text:
No Tea Today
February 8, 2018 gucreativewritingsocietyLeave a comment
The moon was full, but it was far too cold up this hill for dancing naked (although clothed dancing might be a good idea, to warm up). I huddled over the weak fire, glancing around. The others were late.
There was a thud, and a muttered curse, and I glanced around, hiding a smirk as I saw another witch extract herself from a tangled thorny bush, yanking her broomstick out after her.
She climbed to the top of the hill, slumping down cross-legged on the ground beside me, warming her hands over the fire.
"This is a shit fire, isn't it," she said, after a moment of silence, and I glowered at her.
"Well, I had to do it by hand, you know I'm no good at fire spells," I said defensively, and she nodded in acknowledgement, pulling her wand out from her sleeve and poking it at the fire. There was a pop and a spark and the fire sputtered, suddenly bigger and much warmer.
"Give it more wood," she said, and I grabbed some of the kindling I'd collected, feeding the fire gently. "That should do it," she said smugly, and then turned to me. "Alright, get the tea on," she said, and I sighed.
"You were supposed to bring the tea this week," I snapped, exasperated.
"No, Annie was!" she said defensively.
"No, Annie can't come this week, remember? She's got that convention up north."
There was a beat of silence, and then she spoke again.
"So there isn't anything?"
I rummaged in my bag. "There's some biscuits that Mrs Potts made me, for helping with her sore legs. They're strange, though, she puts all sorts of fruit in them."
I handed one over, and we chewed them thoughtfully.
"Yep. Fruity," she said, and I laughed despite myself.
Then there was another thud, and another curse, and we hurried over to help Faith out of the thorn bush, abandoning our biscuits gratefully.
-Maura Kenny
(01/02/18: fruity, moon, Good Omens quote)
flash fiction, flash fiction februaryday 1, fff2018, fruity, moon, naked witches quote
The Mathematics of Moonlight
Sometimes the stars are static particles on a map of vectors. Closing your eyes, the dark sweet smell of chemical pastilles fills the air you breathe, more fully inhabits your senses. There's the crinkle of plastic, the slow emanation of sugar dust, of squishy gelatine fruits. A promise of comets, the bleed of ink through pixelated screens. The miasma of colours combines to several lines of tangled sound. A plasmid comes in circles, endlessly replicating. Once there was a boy who knew Jupiter, could point it out on a clear night's sky, even with a headful of whisky.
The evening is beckoning. Sitting out by the river with the smokers; the water turns its swirling cola, the rain fizzes sadness saccharine into each deep cleft. A few drinks later, the sky will have cleared, the rain will have left. Its mist still clings to her hair. The moon is a sliver, thin as a curl of sebum scratched from her scalp. Across the sky, it drifts like an errant fingernail, floating atop someone's bathwater. The sky is more beautiful when she is drunk; this is why he ploughs her with alcohol. She's not there yet.
There's a sombreness to the bedroom. Moonlight through the skylight makes her dizzy. The three of you sit with the radio on, its dull vibrations flickering beneath each surface: skin, wood, sheet, word, window. The limbs are creeping, seeking to melt the numbness that comes without heating. He offers little in the way of hospitality. The radio spits static about sport, a match he's missing; that his dad is at, 500 miles away. She thinks of the distance to the moon and back. How far he is, shadowed in silence. The sound of the commentator grates her bones.
Soon the shivering will begin properly. She misses the packets of sweets, the cola-dark river, the clearness of gin. He spreads the map out on the bed, struggling to flatten the creases. If only we could preserve this in amber, someone says. A movement. The colours of Jupiter flash on the brain. Fingers trace the fault-lines of the city, demarcations of space and place, angles and ridges and emptiness. The central road that leads northwards, the old highway going westwards. Little symbols for houses and trees. Green shapes, edges that smooth the land serene. She sees his forehead still, its clustering rubies of acne. What of that suspension? The radio growls deep in her stomach, its own pale desire. Sailing By…she finds herself snagged on the shipping forecast, its mutterings reflecting distances and darknesses far away. There can only be now a crumpling of the map, the gesture, its replication meshing in lunar equations…
(fff prompts: reverberations, photo of moon)
flash fiction, flash fiction february, Micro-Narratives, monthly challenge, Uncategorizedalcohol, amber, celestial, crystal, flash fiction, flash fiction february, lunar, mathematics, moon, moonlight, radio, Sailing By, shipping forecast, sky, sport, stars, whisky
November 22, 2015 November 22, 2015 mariaxroseLeave a comment
The trees are knotted
in the spot where the bluebells grow
in June.
Gnarling, their roots twist
into strange, exotic shapes—
Spirals and triangles, spikes
like barbed wire.
We used to sit here
as children. We knew the notch,
the dark hard eye,
the tender part which you cut
to get the sap out.
Everything here is a cycle;
there is no flow of time,
no regress or
degeneration.
In summer the frost fades
to forget-me-nots;
through the canopy, long
into the evening, light lingers
in splinters and sparkles.
So I return;
the trees seem to whistle.
You hear their singing, its softness
like pining. Walk with me.
The greenness changes with the seasons.
Now I look upon it,
these tufts of grass, these oak leaves
glow with yellow fire—
chocolate, chestnut, cinnabar.
I look upon the colour, my fingers
scratching the eye. Its hardness
comes apart like ice.
I stare into that black spot,
the cavernous passage laden with frost,
the eye like a moon.
In the copper of twilight I see you again:
grass in your hair,
bluebells in June.
by Maria S.
(Prompts: green-man.jpg, passage, degeneration)
ice, poems, poetry, POVEMBER, Uncategorizedautumn, bluebells, children, colour, colour writing, cycles, flowers, forest, leaves, memory, moon, nature, nostalgia, poem, poems, poetry, sadness, seasons, spring, summer, time, trees, winter, writing
Ailsa Williamson
With the final piece of sunlight the day disappears
The full moon stretches his lunar fingers extensively
Clouds fade in the wake of the million stars to shine
The night becomes king over all and he watches
Witness to the dark and to the doom that settles
The quiet moans of the wolves of this metropolis
Ever watchful this guardian keeps a careful eye
But he is silent
Forever silent
Uttering nothing of the atrocities he sees
(Prompts: img_3265.jpg, adamant, witness)
poems, poetry, POVEMBER, Uncategorizedmoon, poetry, POVEMBER
The Many Moons of Jupiter
August 9, 2015 February 29, 2016 mariaxrose1 Comment
I was just five years old when my Dad first took me to see the stars. In the museum downtown they have this observatory room with a great glass ceiling displaying the night sky. A kind of visibility you can't get in real life; you can't help staring and staring for hours and hours, just staring at that bright jewellery case of stars. The blackness in the bashckground, that velvet sheet they use, seems deeper alongside the purplish blueish hues which streak behind the twinkling chips of silver. I would sit on the floor of the observatory and stare up at those stars until my neck hurt. There was a makeshift telescope too, which showed up tiny coloured planets. You could check everything you saw against The Book of Celestial Details which was lying open on the glass table. It gave me an immense satisfaction: checking up on those stars, learning the constellations.
It was always Dad that took me to the observatory. Saturday afternoons I was his responsibility, and the easiest thing – the thing I begged for – was to visit the museum. We would go out to lunch afterwards, me leading the way down the familiar streets with the bustling weekend crowd, people weaving in and out of each other like threads from a harlequin fabric, trailing smiles and shopping bags. We always went to the same cafe, where they sold chocolate milkshakes and beans on toast for a fiver.
Dad is a landscape gardener. He digs up piles of mud and lays down square rolls of soft grass and puts in fancy plants that people order from catalogues. He does things with precision: cutting up his food carefully, watching everything I do with his observant eye, following this kind of persistent rhythm. He hated if I got food around my mouth, if I made a mess of the salt shakers or the scraps of food I left on my plate. In the cafe he talked to me about school and how I was getting on and what I liked and if my friends ever got into trouble. One thing we never talked about was Mum. Dad didn't know how to talk about Mum.
My favourite planet is Jupiter. The biggest planet in our solar system, made of flaming greys and yellows and oranges, patterned with swirling lines which sweep around its diameter. After the moon and Venus, Jupiter's the brightest planet in the night sky. Of course, I've never seen it in real life, only the simulated museum version – the version that flashes up onscreen and floats around in orbit. I always dream of that beautiful hologram, but all those pixels get mixed in with the Saturday city buzz and the taste of milkshakes. I don't know what I'd do if I stumbled upon it one day, walking in some clear crisp countryside and seeing it up in the real night sky. I think it'd be pretty scary, not very real at all. I always wonder about that giant spot, the storm that's raged for centuries on its surface. I've zoomed in right close to that Giant Red Spot like I was looking into the eye of a god. It's like my way of praying, staring into that spot, feeling very small as I read about its greatness.
In the cafe, Dad asks me about the future.
"What do you want to do when you grow up?" he says. He asks me this just about every week, like he's forgotten how I answered before. I have a list of things which I reel off for him: astronaut, astronomer, artist, builder.
"Artist? Builder?" he sounds confused. He doesn't understand what I mean by that. I mean, I want to draw planets, to make planets come to life out of pencil and paper. I tell him I want to build things which will last like the planets, that will exist on the earth as the earth exists in the solar system. I can't put it quite into words; it's a feeling I have. Eternity. The rings, faint and reddish pale, that surround some of the planets – it's sort of like that – the feeling drifts out to you, faint and pale. I wonder what it's like to glide along one of those rings, feeling the chaos of gravity, shafts of light shooting right through you. Like playing Mario Kart, whizzing down a rainbow highway and picking up gold stars.
The problem is, I don't think I'll ever be an astronaut or an astronomer; I'm no good at maths.
Sometimes, I don't think I'll ever grow up at all, because Mum and Dad won't let me.
"He doesn't like toys anymore!" Mum shrieks at Dad when he buys me a train set for my birthday, or a Gamecube for Christmas. "He's too old, for God's sake!" She stares at me with her eyes on fire, wanting me to say something, to agree with her. Sometimes she throws plates or tips the dinner all over the floor, or literally shoves my father out the door. They fight over everything.
What's confusing is that I can't tell sometimes whether they're making up or being mean; whether they hate each other or love each other. There is a small red wine stain on the carpet by the sofa, and I stare at it when they are arguing in the living room in front of me; I stare at it like it's the Giant Red Spot of Jupiter. I want to dig my nails into the carpet and peel it off like a scab. They hurl swear words at each other, and Dad always shrinks into silence. It's Mum who creates disorder, swirling her self around the room, her voice getting louder and louder. I sometimes have nightmares about this: the way she goes from shouting to crying, her red face blurring into something indistinct and terrible. I close my eyes and think of comets, shooting endlessly over the night sky.
She says I'm getting too old for museums.
"Help him with his homework instead," she nags to Dad as we leave on Saturday mornings to get the bus into town. Her plea is lost to our backs as we step out of the house. Sometimes, late at night, I hear her come into my room and tuck me in. She stays there for a while, hanging over me and breathing softly – breathing warm tufts of fire. She touches my face and I pretend to be asleep as she slowly starts to cry, still stroking my cheek. All I want to do is shout: Mum, stop! but I can't. I lie there, still as a shop floor dummy.
She listens to me sleeping, but she doesn't listen to me talk about the things I like. She doesn't listen to me when I talk about the sun and the solar system, the many moons of Jupiter. She just switches off, shutting you out with this kind of supernatural force.
How amazing it would be, to escape among the stars! I watch the science channels and see the space ships and the shuttles hurtle away from earth. They always interview the astronauts after they've landed: How do you cope with not seeing your family for so long? Don't you get lonely? What can you eat out there? but they never ask about the things I want to know:
Were you good at maths at school?
Do you need to do algebra to be an astronaut?
What is the square root of 395,691,324?
What do Saturn's rings and Jupiter's Red Eye look like from Space?
I always turn off the tv when I see their smug faces, when they take off the space helmets like they think they're in a movie. Plain old human faces are as boring as my parents' arguing.
Nowadays, they fight about anything at all. I don't understand it; they're like kids – and even Dad shouts now. From the top of the stairs I watch them through the gaps in the banister, wishing I could go down there and make them stop, make them shut up as fast as a hurricane tears up a city.
"Don't forget we love you son," Dad always says afterwards, "no matter how Daddy and Mummy feel about each other."
But he never answers when I ask if they are getting a Divorce. It's like I've whispered a secret I'm supposed to keep quiet, the one special code word that holds us back from chaos.
Now that I'm older, we don't go to museums anymore; we get lunch in the pub. Dad loves fish and chips and Fosters lager. He also loves the slots.
Saturday afternoons he stands in front of the puggies while I watch the bartenders pouring pints and count how many times they spill things. Sometimes I go over and watch him play: I like to see the flashing lights, the colourful fruit symbols glow as the slots fall into place. Simple, persistent, like the bubbles in a glass of lemonade. Dad buys the drinks and tells me to go sit down. It's a weird thing, watching him at the slot machine; like he's in control of everything, like he knows when the slots will align the way he wants them to. Often, he pounds on the plastic shell of the machine, curses. We walk home in the purple dusk, past the city shutting up, and he tells me about anything – a song on the radio, the size of his shoes, the hat his mother used to wear when he was a kid – anything but how much money he's lost.
The other day, I found Jupiter in a textbook at school. I guess I haven't really been thinking about planets and stars and space for awhile, and now it stood out from the glossy pages like a face smiling from the darkness. A familiar face.
This girl sitting next to me, Layla, leant over my shoulder.
"What's that you're looking at?" she asked in that bright, tinkly voice of hers.
"Jupiter," I said. I ran my hand over the smooth page where the clouds patterned themselves across the surface, like the wisps and eddies of smoke leftover from a fire. In my head, I rehearsed the names of all the elements that drift on through those clouds: carbon, vapour, neon, sulphur.
"Is that your favourite planet?" Layla whispered, a lock of her hair spilling over my cheeks. I nodded.
"It's the biggest planet there is. It's so big it could swallow up all the other planets."
"And one day you'll live there like a king?" she smiled. She was teasing me.
"Nobody could ever live there, it's too cold." I closed the textbook.
After a while, I turned to look at Layla, thinking she would be facing the front again, watching the teacher scribbling sums on the board. But she was still looking at me. In her eyes I saw the glass darkness of another kind of space, where stars come forward like shoals of beautiful silver fish rising to the surface of the ocean. I glanced back at my paper and wrote down a perfect equation.
It was winter and after class she cornered me in the snowy playground and for fun I kissed her, just like that. Her lips were cold and wet with snowflakes and everything felt very still around us, like we were caught in a hullabaloo. It was all just luck really – that was the exciting part. I told her it's a beautiful world and she laughed, like I had just said something funny and random from a movie. Like we'd made up the world ourselves and now we were powerful.
When I got home, all Dad said was: she's left us. He looked around the room with this blank expression on his face, like the air itself was different, like something in the particles around him had changed. I poured a glass of milk and thought about it for awhile, but then I remembered the stars and the cool night sky that was only a few hours away, waiting with equations and gorgeous auroras. And yeah, I guess I felt okay.
summer short story competitioncafe, celestial, competitions, divorce, elements, family, fiction, future, Jupiter, Mario Kart, moon, planets, science, short stories, solar system, space, summer short story competition, time
The Legend of Maurelle
February 28, 2015 February 28, 2015 mariaxrose2 Comments
They say that all that was left to recognise her was a strawberry birthmark on her wrist.
Maurelle was running through the woods. All was disintegration; all was the feeling that she had no choice. The spirits were upon her and she had no sense of what right she had to be. To be, to be; to be was nothing but the hum of the bees and the dull pain of a distant infinity. There was only the voice of her father, thundering in her ear; the voice of her mother, small and far away. As she flew through the greenish gloom, she felt the years shed away. All was renewed; all was soon renewing.
All the creatures kissing in the rain and yes she's heard that somewhere before. She's kicked her shoes off, running bare feet and leaping over thick roots and clumps of nettles. There's an energy she's found from nowhere. A bramble lashes out and catches her, but the blood is only wine on her fire. She trails her finger over the jagged wound and brings it to her lips. It tastes metallic and rich. She looks around and there they are, all those creatures kissing in the rain. They are ghosts.
Lost now in darkness; not quite darkness but the kind of twilight stasis that falls upon a forest. Birds returning to nest with fragile song and somewhere above an eagle swooping but only its shadow touching the ground. Maurelle comes to a clearing, where the sense of space is startling. Look around again: crisps, fag packets, an empty bottle of whiskey. The earth sighs beneath her feet. She runs on, following the river and its silver trickle, ignoring the hot pounding of her heart. There is a place she longs for, she can smell it almost; and yet still she is lost, still just following the river.
Somebody or something calls her name, though it is more a distortion – a susurration – caught up in the gush of the river flowing. A foxglove ugly in crimson sings to her as she passes. It opens one eye and releases a bee.
Once upon a time she was starving; now she craves only cigarettes. The world churns out its rot and rubbish. She moves on, the smoke filling up in her head.
She comes upon rows of bluebells, purple blue and beautiful; so startling a sight that momentarily she stops. The sun pours molten gold through the silhouetted trees, bringing light to the swaying bluebells. So many of them, so serene they seemed. There was something hazy about them, a mystical quality. Maurelle wanted nothing more but to crawl up among them, fade back into the soil and become a child again, endlessly sleeping and wandering. As she trod carefully among them, they seemed to speak to her; only their voice was a sparkle of a whisper, and who could hear? Who could possibly hear them? The breeze was upon them, and that was all.
Something was shifting as the sun set in the west and a cloud of violet light came down from the canopy; a kind of filtered moonlight made strange by the sinuous shapes of plants and flowers. What are these trees here? Maurelle cannot recognise the trees here. They are not native trees, but perhaps imports from foreign lands. She rubs her fingers over their coarse trunks, feeling the etching patterns of bark and enjoying the solidity. A secret unfolds inside every leaf. She would come here again in another life. These are not the trees she thought would grow here.
She cannot read the carvings in their trunks nor the words they seem to be saying, saying in the quiet moan of the night-born wind. Saying incantations.
A distant roar strikes up in the distance. Maurelle grows closer.
Running again, her skin flakes off as she sees the trees swell up around her. She notices that one has the same shape as the birthmark on her wrist, a dull pink strawberry. It is a wounded tree, its branches shattered and black as if recently struck by lightning.
The roar is louder now, becoming a kind of glistering cry, prolonged by the spray of sharp sound echoing out along the darkening space. Maurelle runs as if something were chasing her, as if she were running towards the thing that was calling her –
Waterfall. It smashes its liquid silver in spattering torrents down to the clear bright pool which shimmers with moonlight. The spray is cool and splashes upon her face as she stands there, absorbing herself in the ambient shout of water hitting upon rock and water hitting upon water. But not for long could she stop. Maurelle plunged deep into that enticing pool, the icy water enveloping her entirely, sucking in her body. All above was white, melting opal. Pulses of it like sound waves and she felt it dark and deep in her brain. The water is hungry and clear and pulling, and she feels her body pressing down, down; feels the gorgeous descent of the rushing currents and the roar in her freezing ears. The world is wiped out and she is a silky fish. Her cries are little giggles upon the water's surface, and who would know her but the trees that watch the verdant scene like thirsty voyeurs. Who would know her? She is but a spirit of the forest, a distant ripple of some other mystery.
Prompts: strawberry, waterfall
flash fictionescape, flash fiction, forest, fruit, journey, legend, lightning, medieval, moon, mystery, nature, secret, shadow, sound, strawberry, underwater, water, waterfall, wound
The Preciousness of Water
A bright morning, something calling… though who knows what because for so long I've been alone, so long I've forgotten what it is to hear something – anything at all – that wasn't my own two feet trudging upon soil. I was standing by the ocean's edge, the sand etched in my toes, thinking how weak the sea looked; so still as if the moon had given up trying to pull it. It didn't make the usual hush and shush that the sea is supposed to make. If it wasn't for that distant pattering sound, I would think the accident had deafened me after all.
You get a kind of deja vu, standing here looking outwards with everything unfolding in the distance. Once these ashen lumps beneath my feet were tufts of grass and mounds of soft pink heather. There were sea-flowers and elegant sand dunes. Now the beach is blotched with the remains of fallout: blackish dust and fragments of rock that haven't yet been swept away, like the tide's lost its power to barter with the earth. The news told us that there could be more fallout to come, a shower of dark rain to fall in a few days or weeks or even months. That was before the screens flashed off and haven't lit up again since. What I miss most are cigarettes and the smell of lemon shower-gel, the cry my baby made in its crib.
I was thinking about all these things when the noises grew louder. At first it sounded like the distant beginnings of rain, but then there was a clattery thumpiness to it and a rhythm you don't get with rain drops. I waited and waited, hoping this wasn't to be another explosion, though half wondering what it would be like to see that shattering of mushroom-cloud that first bloomed in America. A secret part of me longed for the shock, the cataclysm. I watched a storm breaking against the bay; handfuls of seconds being snatched from the world. The pounding got louder and louder and the ground was vibrating and I was about to turn round when the wind whipped past me with the force of so many bodies and there they all were: a band of wild horses torn from nowhere, galloping fast towards the water. It was all I could do to catch my breath, staggering backwards. They were magnificent creatures, all chestnutty-coloured and shining in the whiteish light. I hadn't seen such beauty in so long. The horizon seemed almost to open to them, its silky jaws of melty yellow parting as they splashed into the ocean with their powerful legs. I couldn't help but run closer to them; I ran and ran till I was touching the sea with my bare feet, knowing the water was full of radiation but still not stopping, not stopping till I was closer to those horses. One of them neighed like a wolf howling to the moon, and it shook its head dramatically like a proud actress. I was thinking how strange it was and wishing someone else was there to see it with me. I stood still watching the last of the horses bound deep into the ocean; they kept running through the delicate waves as easy as scissors ripping silk; they kept running till even their heads had dipped underwater. I wondered if horses could swim, but then I remembered that these days there's no point doubting anything. It all could happen. All of it; anything. Maybe they had gills, and maybe there were other horses with wings. The water gathered in pools around my feet and already I was feeling the tingling.
You can see all the dead fish and crabs and other slimy things being tossed about underwater like any old rubbish. I leant down to pick up a starfish which was fossilised in a coating of ash. If you pull their limbs off, they grow back. I held it in my hand, the ash flaking off of it, a thing so precarious. Looking down, you could see the dull yellow glow coming from odd areas of the sea bed. I sighed and threw the starfish into the distance, watching it spin away like a frisbee. It made me feel a little freer.
I stood there with the radiated water churning its forgotten neutrons and fishy detritus and plastic litter; stood there until I felt the very sand below my feet begin to sink. As usual, the day would not come as it should. The storm's aftermath of dark grey clouds bloomed in the distance and already I could smell the pungency of all their nothingness. The whole horizon was a plume of flowery mist.
I closed my eyes and remembered the time the baby and I were on this beach, making sandcastles out of soft bright sand and in the warm sun eating strawberries. I opened my eyes to blink. A veil of ash still covered the sky, cloaking the world with unnatural mortality. I closed them again, to stop the sting.
And now when I close my eyes, I think of the horses. I cry and cry, thinking of those horses; though water is too precious to waste, a memory of some ocean that's light years away.
(Prompts: photograph of horses, mortality, fall-out)
flash fictionaccident, america, animals, apocalypse, baby, character, cigarettes, colour, deja vu, disaster, ecology, environment, horses, loneliness, memory, moon, mushroom-cloud, nature, nuclear, nuclear winter, ocean, sea, storm, water
Dear Sweetheart
You think: maybe this is it. The moon shines through the skylight and you sigh and rip up the page; the page made painfully white by the unwanted brightness. All the words that had only moments ago bubbled up in your chest now sink down again, forming a rock in your stomach. Another day now wasted.
What is it about these cool autumn nights that drive you to the silence of the attic? It is the children, who exhaust you with their endless longing. You love them really, but your love is a kind of virus, something that spreads and eats away inside of you; that mutates and morphs into a hard and enduring endlessness. You can rely on it, its certain dwelling. Sometimes you forget about it, but it will come back to you when you are not expecting it. That drawing on the wall: the crayon is fading but the shape is the same. Seeing yourself in your son's image; you never thought it would turn everything inside out the way it has.
No, it is something more than the virus that drives you here. As you climb the ladder with your wearied limbs, you feel the thread again; you feel the thread pick up and you can visualise it, clear as the dark clot of leaves in the bottom of a teapot, clear as your first day at school and the image of his face. You are at work stacking shelves and suddenly you feel it all unravelling, as if you were having a panic attack or going into labour. You see the threads spiral out from the coiled knot, loosening and flailing like snakes. It leaves an empty feeling for days.
A summer evening of long ago; it happens on you by chance, as it always does. You click the keys of your typewriter, eking out words like it might kill you. You rely on the words to make things solid again: you need the feel of their tangibility. Crisp scent of grass and starlight in the air; he leans his head on my lap, he tells me about the time his cat died when he was five. You bite your lip. Everything seems fickle and silly against the cleanness of the page. It is a shame to spoil the whiteness. We bought strawberries; we whispered our thoughts about the future. He would buy a camper-van and travel America, and I would go with him after my degree. We would end up clever intellectuals on a lovely salary, then we would be free. Was it even true? Even once? The letters flash back at you and seem hollow and false. You light a cigarette and painstakingly stab a smouldering hole through every word. The smoke fills your lungs and you are calm. But still the thread unravels, and still you cannot weave it tight again.
The sound of crying downstairs. It will be your little girl. You do not go to her, though she is still a baby. You feed a new page into the machine.
In August you got ill. The typewriter echoes round the room, sounding loud and somehow alien, as if another person were typing it. You feel as if the moon could hear you, and the effect is uncomfortable, a conscious voyeurism. They took you to hospital and for months we could not speak; nobody would let me see you. I clung to alcoholic nights by the river with friends, the daydreams charred from the dull glow of so many winter fires. I let anyone kiss me, anything to take me away from you and your memory. You feel something rise up inside of you: the image clarifies. You hear it stronger despite the loudening sound of your daughter's wailing cry. We only met once again; you probably don't remember. A cold day in December, the streets powdered with snow, Christmas shoppers clogging the space between us. But I stopped and called for you. You talked of the weather and your mother and you did not look in my eye. You are addressing him directly now, imagining the glitter of his green irises gazing back at the text as you fire it out upon the paper. Electricity simmers through you, shuddering to the pulse of the typebars clicking upon the ribbon. I have thought about it for so long – that awful vacant day. I think about you now, where you are and what you are doing. All the letdowns, the disappointments. I gather up all the gossip I can, try to lace the threads together; you see, no matter what happens I still feel connected to you. I have two beautiful children and I wish they could meet you. I cannot explain it, but I know that if you wrote to me I would travel anywhere in the world to get to you. It streams out of you now and you are not thinking about what you are writing. When you are finished you release the paper from the machine and you do not read over it because it is no longer anything to do with this moment, this cataclysmic silence. The moon disappears behind thick sooty cloud. Now you are truly alone.
You lay the letter on the desk and take up your pen to sign the bottom. It has been so long that your signature seems odd and impersonal. You hover over it, hesitant.
The fountain pen bursts and its ink sprays out across the page. There is a fold in time when all sense slips away. But still you see the words underneath, enduring like the love you feel for your children. Enduring like the memories of that enchanted journey, the future promise of each sparkling place. You close your eyes and look again at the paper, and every speckle of ink reminds you of the freckles on his face.
(Prompts: journey, soulmate, ink)
character, flash fictionchildren, dreams, drink, electricity, flash fiction, flashback, ink, letter, loneliness, love, machine, memory, moon, smoke, soulmate, writing
February 2, 2015 February 2, 2015 gucreativewritingsocietyLeave a comment
"Miss. Miss! MISS!"
The teacher turned round to the boy who had called her, the tenth time in this period, suppressing a sigh. Thirty minutes to go for lunch time.
"What is it this time, Cameron?"
"See, why does the moon have to carry a lantern, sticks and a dog? Nobody is going to recognise it. That's so stupid!"
She had to give him credit that at least this question slightly touched what they were doing at the moment which was discovering Bottom's character traits. After having asked for a pencil, a rubber, the permission to go to the toilet (several times) and inquiring in a whiny voice why he was not allowed to go there, after having complained about being hit by the boy sitting next to him and after having thrown an empty bottle through the classroom, he had finally opened his copy of the Midsummer Night's Dream.
"People at Shakespeare's time thought that there was a man like this in the moon."
"That's a really stupid thing to believe."
"The moon was a mystery these days. People didn't know what we know today." For a moment she thought that she had caught his interest. He looked at her as if he wanted to ask another question. She was sure he would ask for further information about scientific knowledge in the 16th century. Maybe she could send him to the library to research a bit on his own. It would lead him away from the characterisations but that seemed to be a small sacrifice if it meant she managed to get Cameron Miller interested in a topic in English class.
"Miss, I don't want to read this crap!" He stood up, threw his book against the wall, missing Orla Smith's head only by half an inch, and sat down again. Grinning.
She shouted louder than she had ever shouted at a pupil before. She sent him off the classroom and gave him detention. What should she do with this boy? He refused to participate in class, fooled around and disturbed his classmates. When he was in, it was nearly impossible to have normal lesson because he demanded her whole attention. He was a pain in the neck for all of his teachers who agreed that nothing good would ever become of Cameron Miller.
She could not know that the boy, who had high fived his best friend while walking out of the room celebrating that he had driven her crazy again, spent every night on the telescope observing the moon. She could not know that twenty years from now he would be a leading engineer for NASA and that he would look down to the moon from space and mutter: "An old man and a dog… pathetic. But the play was not that bad at all."
(Prompts: Shakespeare, Technology)
By Rut Neuschäfer
flash fictionmoon, school, shakespeare, technology
On television we watched the forest fires blaze across Australia. We wondered how something so intangible could catch so quick. Desperate for understanding, we put our hands through the yellow tongues that licked the top of bunsen burners in science class, but nothing happened. That evening I sat alone, watching the smouldering coals die quietly in the fire. When you came up later to see me, we kneeled again in front of the flickering images, oblivious to the shadows that billowed on the wall.
You said you wanted to touch earth, to breathe the metallic scratch of smoke.
We were thousands of miles from the fires, but driving in your father's car we felt the energy surge beneath the tyres. It was so cold, so frostily cold that night when we camped in the forest. We sat up in that clearing we found, resisting the urge to sleep in the car, sharing our only blanket. We'd built a crap fire, with childlike flames and incessant spits of woodspark. We'd jump as every moment or so another crackle would pierce the dark. Your bare hand was violet and cool on my arm. I wouldn't look in your face, for fear of realisation. We talked little, watched a lot. The fire burnt out before us, giving itself up to the misted damp of rain. Among charcoal spots, in the darkness, I saw glows of amber fade.
In the middle of the night, I got up to smoke cigarettes in the forest depths, tripping over branches and roots in the darkness. I scorched a small blackish circle on my thumb with my lighter. I was going to show you it, later. This place was perfectly void, except for the pine scent and owl calls. I inhaled each drag as if I were in the fires, sucking in a vaporous death. When I finally got back to you, you were frozen and shaking. Your eyes rolled to the moon and flashed like irises, whiter than white. Everything was going to be alright, I kept saying, relishing those silver tears. In silence we held pure fear. Under the stars, in the undergrowth, we curled together like fledglings without their mother.
In the morning we rose numbly, our bodies taut with confusion. You took me to the forest edge to watch the sunrise, the blazing pools spilt over the horizon. We tried to speak, to make sense, but we could only let out sighs.
I think we were missing television.
prompts: forest, sunrise
flash fiction, submissionAustralia, camping, fire, flash fiction, forest, moon, sun, writing


Africa's economic performance since 1999 has been quite impressive, especially when compared with the negative gross domestic product (GDP) growth trends of the late 1980s and early 1990s. The region's average annual GDP growth rate rose from just under 3.0 per cent in 1999 to approximately 5.8 per cent in 2007. However, these improvements in economic performance have not yet had a demonstrably meaningful impact on poverty reduction and the achievement of the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs). The proportion of the population living below the poverty line, which in 2004 was estimated at 41.1 per cent remains high. Studies have shown that women are the most affected, leading to the feminization of poverty.


Since showing up on the Drew League circuit both on the feet of DeMar DeRozan and Kobe Bryant himself…the latest iteration of the Nike Kobe A.D. is upon us. Now in its fifth iteration in just under two years…this A.D. will release Friday; 8.24 also known as Mamba Day, the day after Kobe's 40th birthday. Despite there being numerous Mamba Days throughout the calendar year, this one will prove to be celebratory, from the new look to the fun-loving and colorful almost 'What the'-like colorway.
With Kobe's birthday cascading down the tongue loops on the right shoe and his three jersey numbers on the left shoe; 33, 08, 24 (Lower Merion to Lakers), the brand new Kobe A.D. drops at 10 am on SNKRS on Friday.


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Fortnite Star Wars live special event happening in-game this Saturday
Apart from that, Epic has had major crossover events with major pop-culture movies like the Thanos skin it added when Infinity War released . Risky Reels was formerly a named POI on the Battle Royale map, but this has changed with Fortnite chapter 2. [Full Article...]
La Française Ophély Mezino première dauphine — Miss Monde
Mais c'était avant de réaliser qu'Ophély Mézino a tout de même fait un sacré parcours dans la compétition. Admise en classe préparatoire aux grandes écoles en Biologie, chimie, physique et sciences de la terre à Pointe-à-Pitre au Lycée de Baimbridge, elle décide de s'orienter vers l'université de Montpellier pour préparer une licence en ingénierie chimie. [Full Article...]
John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John Recreate Their Grease Looks for Sing-along
Newton-John posted a photo on her official Instagram account Friday of the iconic couple back in costume for the first time since they filmed the classic musical. Guests are encouraged to dress as their favorite character from 'Grease '. Olivia , 71, recently sold her iconic "bad Sandy" outfit of a leather jacket and tight spandex pants at auction, to raise money for her cancer centre after sh... [Full Article...]
Kim Kardashian had 5 operations after son Saint's complicated birth
Another of Kim's followers wrote, "Beautiful family". Kim Kardashian has opened up about trying to get pregnant again, revealing doctors refused to let her do IVF. Several stairs below feature North West and her mother Kim Kardashian seated side-by-side. The Wests used two different surrogates to deliver Chicago and Psalm . [Full Article...]
'Do The Right Thing' Actor Danny Aiello Dead At 86
Reuters could not immediately confirm the reports. "The details of the service will be announced later", the family said in a statement. "I have no idea why I said what I said", said Aiello. "And for that I'm adored by the police in New York City". In 1986 he famously played Madonna's father in her " Papa Don't Preach " music video, and then recorded a tongue-in-cheek answer song "Papa Wants the... [Full Article...]
Sana Mirza's sister Anam marries the son of Assad Mohamed Azharuddin
Anam Mirza and Asad had reportedly been dating for some time before they got married. It may be mentioned that Asaduddin and Imran Mirza, Sania Mirza's father had called on the Governor of TS, T. Final year, it become as soon as reported that she had filed for a divorce with Akbar, on the opposite hand, the catch 22 situation off of their split is but to be known. [Full Article...]
Fast & Furious Crossroads Announced with Plenty of Vin Diesel
Bandai Namco also paid Vin Diesel and F&F co-star Michelle Rodriguez to stand on stage and present the reveal trailer, so you must understand that all of this is serious business. The trailer looks like it could easily be a trailer for the next movie in the line, and also features series regular actors as their respective characters. [Full Article...]
Cent Deems Harvey Weinstein Settlement "A Big Money Grab"
The deal will have to be signed by all parties and get court approval to resolve nearly every misconduct lawsuit brought against him since 2017 and insulate company directors from future liability. "The most troubling aspect of this settlement is a punitive provision created to force victims to settle", Giuffra said in a statement cited by The Associated Press. [Full Article...]
"Game Of Thrones" showrunners find Lovecraft after "Star Wars" rescue
The project of Benioff and Weiss seems to be able to attack the man himself, wondering if all the dreams of odd and flaky fever that he has exploded in the American canon could have been real, and situating it in an appropriate 1920s setting at the time. [Full Article...]
Philip McKeon Dead - 'Alice' Child Star Dies at 55
The two had performed together in an episode of Amazing Stories in 1986 and Sheen shared a picture of the two on set in military fatigues. - Charlie Sheen (@charliesheen) December 10, 2019My heart is broken &aches for my sister Nancy @NMcKeonOfficial who just lost her brother Phil . [Full Article...]
FanSided 250: Marvel, Star Wars ranked among top movie fandoms of 2019
John Boyega has apologised for "badly worded" comments he made about abuse on social media which people construed as being about his Star Wars co-star Kelly Marie Tran . First, jump into hyperspace and travel to a whole new world with the Lightspeed Effect. Another, the Cockpit Effect, lets you see yourself as a member of the Resistance, traveling across the galaxy in Poe Dameron's X-Wing. [Full Article...]
British PM Accused of Hiding in Refrigerator to Avoid Media
He joked that he was "not avoiding" Good Morning Britain presenters Piers Morgan and Susanna Reid by standing inside the device. "If you're going to mock others for hiding from our scrutiny, I suggest you practice what you preach". On a campaign stop in Middlesbrough on Wednesday afternoon, Mr Corbyn couldn't resist a dig at Mr Johnson. "I've come here with a message of hope!" It's not bee... [Full Article...]
Matrix 4 release date unveiled
Do you go see John Wick 4 first or do you go see the new Matrix movie? Warner Bros . just announced the Matrix 4 release date , ComicBook reports , apparently without taking into account the fact that John Wick 4 also hits theaters on the same day. [Full Article...]
Duchess Kate looks stunning wearing Princess Diana's beloved Lover's Knot tiara
Its design was taken from a tiara owned by Mary's grandmother Princess Augusta of Hesse, known as the Cambridge Lover's Knot Tiara . Several core members of the royal family stepped out for a glamorous evening at the Diplomatic Reception in honor of members of the Diplomatic Corps in London, England. [Full Article...]
Chris Evans' Knives Out Sweater Has Found Baby Yoda
Before people were offering their lives to save baby Yoda , protecting baby Groot was the ultimate act of heroism, and the two have since developed a fierce rivalry among fans disputing who is cutest. She added that while she and her boyfriend haven't yet watched The Mandalorian , they're familiar with the Baby Yoda craze thanks to memes . Today, Time Magazine named The Walt Disney Co... [Full Article...]
Harvey Weinstein Reaches $25 Million Tentative Settlement With His Accusers
They, along with creditors of the bankrupt Weinstein Company, are seeking a combined $47 million settlement. The settlement would still require the approval of the court and the parties involved. "The court will issue a warrant for your arrest". He is free on $1 million bail and maintains that any sexual activity was consensual. More than 30 people have accused Weinstein of sexual misconduct, se... [Full Article...]
Here's What Will Happen to Current Series
In October 2019, Feige was promoted to Marvel's Chief Creative Officer, which places parts of Marvel Entertainment like the comics publishing arm and Marvel Television under his management. On the animation side, Marvel Television has five shows in development for Hulu ( Howard the Duck , Hit Monkey , Tigra & Dazzler, M.O.D.O.K., and The Offenders ) and one for Disney Junior ( Marvel's Spi... [Full Article...]
Meghan Markle and her friends give the Royal Palace headaches this season?
Jennifer Meyer's official Instagram account then shared photos of Meghan wearing the designs along with links to shop the pieces online. Pieces worn all year in various royal orders. Numerous pieces carry hidden or symbolic meanings, with a necklace and bracelet set she wore said to be created to ward away evil. Is this an act of royalty or celebrity? The editor-in-chief of Majesty Magazine ... [Full Article...]
Greta Thunberg désignée personnalité de l'année 2019 par le magazine "Time"
C'est le titre de "une " du magazine américain Time , qui a désigné mercredi 11 décembre la jeune militante du climat Greta Thunberg comme personnalité de l'année 2019. Son discours à l'Assemblée générale des Nations unies, où elle a accusé les dirigeants mondiaux d'avoir "volé" son enfance avec des "paroles creuses", a suscité de nombreuses réactions, entre fierté et agacement. [Full Article...]
Adam Driver Nominated for 'Screen Actors Guild Award'
The SAG Awards, which honour only acting in film and television and are voted by members of the professional actors' union, are generally considered a good barometer for the Oscars, adding further fuel to Jojo's awards fire following its Academy-tipping People's Choice win at the Toronto International Film Festival . [Full Article...]
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


WCA mourns the premature passing of gifted novelist, poet, essayist and playwright Priscila Uppal. Always curious, always questioning; she mined every challenge for its creative opportunities. She had so much more still to say and contribute…this is a sad day for all of us here at WCA, and for the wide circle of people whose lives Priscila touched.


This 'bell' shaped tankard has a generous 2 pint capacity up to the line of the handle-ledge. It has a pulled handle with thumb-rest and a rounded bottom that sits comfortably in the palm of your hand.
The tankard is glazed on the inside and down to the handle-ledge with a soft 'eggshell' finish glaze made using beech ash (plus felspar and ball clay). The outer glaze uses oak ash (plus granites, china clay, ball clay and a small amount of iron to give the rich olive colour).


There are many useful tools that exist to help traders in the Forex market and the use of charts is one way for traders to stay on top of current information. To display various quotes of the market, various charts are used. These charts are typically designed using two different coordinated: Price, which is shown on a vertical axis, and the time period of the trade, shown on the horizontal. Some of the data that will be found in charts include opening price, close price, high price and low price. Charts are a great way to view the present and past actions of any currency or pair.
The time period refers to the amount of time that a trade will be open. Charts will display various times, which will range from 1 minute all the way to 1 month when using the popular Metatrader 4 platform. No matter how information is displayed, charts can provide to be a very useful tool for any trader.
The Tick Chart is a small graph that will show the changes in unit prices. This chart does not offer information on time intervals. The upper portion of the chart displays the Ask price, or the lowest bid. This chart is usually not uses for analysis and is only used to determine the right time to enter the market.
Line Charts are curved graphs that display the close prices of trading periods in the past. This chart is great for short term traders. The Bar Chart offers information on high and low prices. The short lines on the left will show traders the open price and the bar on the right will show the close price. There is also another bar that is used to show the different price changes over a certain period. The Bar Chart is beneficial for those that are watching price changes in a trading interval.
With these various charts, traders can gather much information on how certain currencies have performed on the past and what the changes may be in the future. While the information is not a guarantee, it can help an experienced trader review past changes and help to determine when to enter a trade and with what currencies. Charts are often used to monitor the performance of a specific currency to better inform the trader.


In January, Tech List Members Jonathan W. Fitch and Philip D. O'Neill, Jr. moderated a program at the Boston Bar Association: "Insider Views on International Dispute Resolution." SVAMC was a co-sponsor of the event, whose panel members included Secretary General Alexander Fessas of the ICC International Court of Arbitration; Mark T. Beaudouin, General Counsel and Secretary of Waters Corporation; Andrea DiFabio, Chief Legal Officer of Bioverativ Inc.; and Roland Schroeder, Global Executive Counsel – Corporate Litigation and Legal Policy for General Electric Company.
In the first part of the program, Philip O'Neill interviewed Alexander Fessas on a range of topics including changes in the ICC Rules of Arbitration, measures to promote efficiencies in the issuance of awards, scrutiny of awards by the court, the emergence of new international arbitration centers and efforts to promote diversity among arbitrators. Fessas spoke about the Expedited Procedure Rules, which became effective March 1, 2017. While it is too early to judge the market acceptance of this innovation, it directly addresses the complaint that international arbitration takes too long and is too expensive. Fessas also discussed areas where the ICC is continuing its international focus, including its extensive operations within the U.S. and ability to handle even purely domestic arbitrations. In particular, Fessas emphasized that the ICC is making a push towards transparency with the publication of the arbitrators sitting on ICC panels, and with the redacted publication of certain ICC awards.
Following the interview with Fessas, Jonathan Fitch led a roundtable discussion to get the views of corporate counsel. The counsel uniformly thought that the ability to choose the arbitrator was perhaps the single greatest advantage over litigation. They also noted, though, that while arbitrations can sometimes take several years to resolve, they have some litigations that have been proceeding for decades, again giving the advantage to arbitrating disputes.
Counsel all indicated that they spend significant time identifying the most appropriate arbitrator candidates, with subject matter expertise as a leading criterion. In cases involving intellectual property, for instance, they look for an arbitrator experienced in that area. For three-person Tribunals, there was a consensus view that the party-appointed arbitrator should be open to their active participation in the choice of a chair. None of the corporate counsel supported Jan Paulsson's proposal that arbitral institutions select arbitrators to avoid any appearance of conflict. They expressed a reluctance to place their trust in arbitrator selection with institutions where there was no real guarantee of quality, and where the institutional personal and philosophy may change over time.
Counsel all indicated that there is now more attention to the drafting of dispute resolution clauses. Stepped processes—executive negotiation, followed by mediation and then arbitration—were disfavored. One speaker remarked that the coordination of the first step with an executive team made it problematic for counsel to maintain the confidentiality of information and consistency of legal positions in advance of an arbitration or court proceeding.
The event attracted an audience of about fifty arbitration lawyers, arbitrators, in house counsel and law students, who engaged the panel in a lively give-and-take. Questions touched upon the choice of the right forum, the advantages of Boston as an arbitral seat, the qualities that counsel look for in selecting lawyers as advocates in arbitrations, and experiences with the enforceability of awards and court judgments in foreign jurisdictions, among other fascinating issues.
The nearly two-hour program was exceptionally well received and demonstrated the value of bringing the sophisticated voices of arbitral institutions and the corporate consumer together. The event was co-organized by the International Law Section of the Boston Bar Association and the ICC International Court of Arbitration, supported by USCIB (ICC USA) as well as promoted by SVAMC.


text:
Dhonielle Clayton is an American author and chief operating officer of We Need Diverse Books.

Life and career
Clayton was born in Washington, D.C. She went to Our Lady Of Good Counsel in Wheaton Maryland. She graduated with a B.A. from Wake Forest University in 2005, a M.A. from Hollins University in 2008, and a M.F.A. in creative writing from The New School in 2012.

She is president and owner of Cake Creative, a boutique book packager. She co-authored the instant New York Times bestselling book Blackout with Tiffany D. Jackson, Angie Thomas, Nic Stone, Ashley Woodfolk, and Nicola Yoon, and it's currently slated to become a movie and TV show produced by the Obamas for Netflix. She also co-authored the Tiny Pretty Things series with Sona Charaipotra. The series debuted in 2015 and follows three teenage dance students at New York's American Ballet Company. Kirkus referred to volume one as "a page-turner with heart." In 2020, Tiny Pretty Things made its debut on Netflix as a series.

Clayton's interest as a teenager in magazines, beauty and how they affected the way she viewed herself later served as inspirations for her debut novel, The Belles, released in February 2018. The fantasy young adult novel centers a 16-year-old girl and her sisters, tasked with restoring beauty to a colorless grey world. The book was a New York Times bestseller and was named a Best Book of 2018 by Kirkus.

Clayton is Chief Operating Officer of We Need Diverse Books, which seeks to increase representations of marginalized groups in children and young adult literature. She also works as a sensitivity reader for children's literature and works to identify stereotypes or inauthentic portrayals of Black characters. She has also advocated for books to better represent people of color.

In 2019, Clayton attracted criticism for negative Tweets about a student of Northern State University, who had advocated for the inclusion of three books by persons of colour, including Bryan Stevenson's memoir Just Mercy about racial injustice, instead of a YA novel by Sarah Dessen, in the university's "Common Reads" program. Clayton later deleted the tweets.

In 2019, Clayton and Zoraida Córdova started a podcast together called Deadline City. Together they co-host episodes and talk about publishing topics and their own experiences in publishing.

Awards

Published works

Novels

 Blackout (2021)
The Rumor Game with Sona Charaipotra (2022)
The Marvellers (2022)

Tiny Pretty Things series

 Tiny Pretty Things with Sona Charaipotra (2015)
 Shiny Broken Pieces with Sona Charaipotra (2016)

The Mirror series

 Shattered Midnight (2022)

The Belles series

 The Belles (2018)
 The Everlasting Rose (2019)

Short stories

 "When the Moonlight Isn't Enough" in The Radical Element, edited by Jessica Spotswood (2018)
 "The Need for Kisses" in Well-Read Black Girl: Finding Our Stories, Discovering Ourselves, edited by Glory Edim (2018)
 "The Way We Love Here" in  Meet Cute: Some People Are Destined to Meet (2018)
 "You Know Nothing About Love" in Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, edited by Marieke Nijkamp (2018)
 "Hearts Turned to Ash" in A Phoenix First Must Burn, edited by Patrice Caldwell (2020)
 "The House of Black Sapphires" in Vampires Never Get Old: Tales with Fresh Bite, edited by Zoraida Córdova and Natalie C. Parker (2020)

Anthologies edited
 A Universe of Wishes: We Need Diverse Books Anthology (2020)
Blackout (2021)

References

External links
 Official website

Living people
21st-century African-American women writers
21st-century African-American writers
21st-century American novelists
African-American novelists
American chief operating officers
American women novelists
Hollins University alumni
The New School alumni
Wake Forest University alumni
Year of birth missing (living people)
Writers from Washington, D.C.
African-American business executives
21st-century American women writers

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


The 5-star Constance Lémuria in the Seychelles is the ultimate lifestyle hotel. Enjoy the elegant luxury of the spacious suites and villas with views over the Indian Ocean. Unwind in swimming pools seemingly crafted by nature and let us indulge your passion for fine food, ultimate comfort and joyful excitement.
Treat your senses at Spa de Constance or reconnect with your playful side on our 18-hole golf course, diving our stunning granite reef or enjoying the watersports and other activities on offer.


text:
Delaware's Whale of a Sale returns as thrifty shoppers rejoice
Ira Porter
The News Journal
Cindy Hall is the self-proclaimed "Yard Sale Queen," but she might have earned the title if it was ever up for votes.
Name something, she has it, and most likely the North Wilmington resident got it from a yard sale. She took a treadmill home for free one Saturday afternoon after she, her mother and sister traveled to several yard sales and kept seeing them among available items.
"At first my mom and sister were like, 'No. No. Don't get any treadmills,'" said Hall, 52.
Then they spotted a working machine in the driveway of a sale.
"I asked how much it was and the lady said it was five bucks," Hall joked. "Then next she said she would give it to me for free because she wanted her garage back."
EDUCATION: African American history now a bigger part of curriculum at Mt. Pleasant high school
Hall plans to be one of the thousands of people expected to attend Whale of a Sale, dubbed the state's largest garage sale, which will return to Wilmington on Saturday, Nov. 9. The event has been a tradition for the Junior League of Wilmington since 1980.
It's so successful that starting this year, the Junior League will have the sale annually, instead of skipping a year as it has for decades.
The 2019 event will offer gently used items from JLW members, designer items, new clothing, formal wear and bridal gowns, furniture, children's clothing, housewares, books and sporting goods. It is a partnership between JLW and local businesses, which contribute items to the sale. Some are gently used. Some are not.
Proceeds from the sale will fund community planning for the organization, annual leadership summits and an initiative dubbed "Stand Up. Period." which focuses on making sure all girls and women have access to products for their periods. Organizers said their goal for the fundraiser to bring in $35,000, which it has in years past.
DEEP DIVE: What's in your drinking water? Nonprofit argues 'legal doesn't mean safe' when it comes to pollution
All about the shopping
The earliest Hall ever got to Whale of a Sale was 6:30 a.m. Other people had beaten her there, so she had to wait in line.
"They get out there pretty early," she said. "When I got there the line was wrapped around the corner."
She has gone many other times, and usually arrives between 7:30 and 8 a.m., knowing that she will have to wait to get inside to shop.
One year she couldn't get to the sale until it was almost time to close. That ended up being a blessing.
MODERN DUELING: Delaware group members fight to the faux death
"They had all this stuff sitting there and they made an announcement," she said. "They told everyone to take a bag and fill it up for $5 bucks. I left there with six 10-speed bikes tied to a red SUV," she laughed.
Lori Giughlo plans to go to Whale of a Sale. It will be another stop in her weekly thrift store adventures that take her all over New Castle County, Wilmington, Middletown and Bear. She goes wherever thrift shopping is best.
"Sometimes it's hit or miss," Giughlo said.
Her eye is practiced and her tastes are particular. She can spot a perfect pair of slim fit jeans for her 7-year-old son. She's snagged vintage furniture, vases, X-box games and other knickknacks. Although she's only about 5 feet, if something's high up on a shelf, she'll reach for it.
"I used to be able to shop for my daughter, but she's at the point where she doesn't like what I pick for her. She has to be with me when I shop for her," Giughlo, who lives in St. Georges.
Once or twice a week she shops for at least an hour or two after she drops her son off at school. Recently she stopped at the Fox Run Shopping Center in Bear, where the store was having its weekly $2 dollar Tuesday special. Kids clothes were only $1 per item.
She grabbed a few books and shirts for her son and then searched through housewares and women's clothes.
"It's just like a treasure hunt," said Giughlo, who dresses comfortably to shop.
"It's to the point where even we go on a family road trip and I see a Goodwill I will say, 'Goodwill! Goodwill! We have to stop,'" she said, laughing.
GAMESHOW: Newark man's high-energy 'Family Feud' audition leaves him hospitalized
Her husband doesn't mind.
"It saves him money," Giughlo said.
She shops for him, too. She once found a slightly used pair of tennis rackets with bags for $3. Her best buy most recently was a vintage elementary school style wooden and metal desk with a lift top for $10 for her children.
"They didn't even have it on the floor yet, but I saw it. I saw it and asked if they were bringing it out. They were going to charge 20 for it, but they were having a sale," she said.
She recently grabbed a Nerf gun for her son, and looked up the value online. It would have been $30 if she bought it new. She got it for $3.
Robin Veller, the manager of the Fox Run Goodwill store, says all it takes is one good shopping experience and many shoppers are hooked by the bargains they can find at thrift shops.
"We have people who come for the first time, and then after that they come back every day," Veller said.
What: Whale of a Sale
When: Nov. 9, 2019 from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m.
Where: 3030 Bowers Street, Wilmington, DE 19802
Contact: www.jlwilmington.com to learn more or call 302-652-544.
Contact Ira Porter at 302-324-2581 or iporter@delawareonline.com.


text:
package components;

import java.io.File;
import javax.swing.*;
import javax.swing.filechooser.*;

/* ImageFileView.java is used by FileChooserDemo2.java. */
public class ImageFileView extends FileView {
    ImageIcon jpgIcon = Utils.createImageIcon("images/jpgIcon.gif");
    ImageIcon gifIcon = Utils.createImageIcon("images/gifIcon.gif");
    ImageIcon tiffIcon = Utils.createImageIcon("images/tiffIcon.gif");
    ImageIcon pngIcon = Utils.createImageIcon("images/pngIcon.png");

    public String getName(File f) {
        return null; // let the L&F FileView figure this out
    }

    public String getDescription(File f) {
        return null; // let the L&F FileView figure this out
    }

    public Boolean isTraversable(File f) {
        return null; // let the L&F FileView figure this out
    }

    public String getTypeDescription(File f) {
        String extension = Utils.getExtension(f);
        String type = null;

        if (extension != null) {
            if (extension.equals(Utils.jpeg) || extension.equals(Utils.jpg)) {
                type = "JPEG Image";
            } else if (extension.equals(Utils.gif)) {
                type = "GIF Image";
            } else if (extension.equals(Utils.tiff) || extension.equals(Utils.tif)) {
                type = "TIFF Image";
            } else if (extension.equals(Utils.png)) {
                type = "PNG Image";
            }
        }
        return type;
    }

    public Icon getIcon(File f) {
        String extension = Utils.getExtension(f);
        Icon icon = null;

        if (extension != null) {
            if (extension.equals(Utils.jpeg) || extension.equals(Utils.jpg)) {
                icon = jpgIcon;
            } else if (extension.equals(Utils.gif)) {
                icon = gifIcon;
            } else if (extension.equals(Utils.tiff) || extension.equals(Utils.tif)) {
                icon = tiffIcon;
            } else if (extension.equals(Utils.png)) {
                icon = pngIcon;
            }
        }
        return icon;
    }
}

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


Event Sponsorship Opening: Cattle Industry Summer Conference - We've got an opening for a sponsor of our coverage of this summer's conference which would be the first one published onto the new ZimmComm Animal Agriculture website - www.animal.agwired.com! If your company or organization are interested in some great online conference exposure please contact Chuck or Dave Larson asap.
On the agriblogging highway this week Cindy was in Washington, DC for the USB Biobased Products Stakeholders Dialogue. Chuck tried to make it the quarterly NAMA Executive Committee mtg. in Chicago but only made it as far as Atlanta before plane problems and weather forced to return to ZimmComm World Headquarters.
The National Agri-Marketing Association has a couple of events coming up that you should get on your calendar. The annual NAMA Fall Conference will be in Chicago, IL in September and NAMA Boot Camp will be in Kansas City in August.
Speaking of bio-based products, our new ZimmPoll asks, "How important are bio-based products to agriculture?"


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text:
Startup launches Somalia's first motorcycle hailing app
Somali startup Gulivery has launched a new app called Go! which will connect motorcycle riders in Mogadishu with customers across the country's capital. Launched on May Day, the app is expected to bring affordable and convenient transport options to residents of the recovering seaside Somali city. According to Gulivery, the service is
Africa's largest mosque has been completed …thanks to China
Algeria is set to open Africa's largest mosque, the Djama El Djazair, or the Great Mosque of Algiers. Constructed by China State Construction Engineering Corporation (CSCEC), the mosque, built in the Algerian capital, is estimated to have cost two billion U.S. dollars to build. The mega mosque complex covers an area
What operating a free ambulance service is like in Somalia
"My dream is to reach every district, every village in the regions, everywhere in Somalia, so that my ambulances can reach there and serve them." – Dr. Abdulkadir Abdirahman Adan, Founder of Aamin Ambulance Somalia's only free ambulance service, Aamin Ambulance, is in need of funding for sustenance having operated for
Kenyan minister says famous flamingo park is 'dead'
Kenya's tourism minister Najib Balala has warned that a park known worldwide for its flamingos and other wildlife is fast losing its glory, as its lake becomes polluted with raw sewerage, privately-owned newspaper Daily Nation reports. He said the numbers of the tall and pink wading birds, and wild animals like lions,
Capitalism is failing us all. Could Islamic economics be the answer?
Billionaire Ray Dalio, manager of the world's largest hedge fund Bridgewater, recently shocked the world when he announced that "capitalism is failing" and that a "revolution" is coming. There is no denying that global inequality is at unsustainable levels, and that interest-based economies are no longer fit for purpose (in many
First ever supermarket in Kenya's Mandera county excites residents
A new supermarket is exciting residents of Mandera town on the Kenya-Somalia-Ethiopia border after it opened its doors this week. El-Matt supermarket is the first ever one-stop store to set up shop in Mandera county. "I am happy that at last, we have a supermarket in Mandera. Previously, the nearest one was
World Bank to fund rehabilitation of slaughterhouses in northeast Kenya
The World Bank is planning to spend hundreds of millions of shillings on equipping slaughterhouses in four counties in northern Kenya, an official has said. The project is part of the efforts aimed at promoting local and export market for livestock products in Garissa, Wajir, Isiolo and Mandera counties. Kenya's Livestock Principal
Somalia needs debt cancellation now to give its children a chance
Meeting the children at a primary school in Baidoa town, in the southwestern Bay region of Somalia, my heart swelled with joy. As they showed me how they could say the days of the week in English, the teacher beamed, I felt so proud that the world's humanitarian response was
Djibouti loses court case to Dubai's DP World venture
The London Court of International Arbitration has ordered the government of Djibouti to pay $385 million to a venture part-owned by Dubai-based global ports operator DP World over breach of contract. Djibouti was ordered o pay Doraleh Container Terminal (DCT) the amount plus interest for breach of its exclusivity over port operations
MP Yusuf Hassan brokers deal between Eastleigh traders and tax agency
A deal has been brokered between the Kenyan Revenue Authority and traders in Nairobi's Eastleigh district following protests that saw shops in the area closed for two days. Yusuf Hassan, Member of Parliament for Kamukunji, of which Eastleigh is part, said he successfully brokered an end to the dispute between the national tax


text:
require File.join(File.dirname(__FILE__), 'spec_helper.rb')
require File.join(File.dirname(__FILE__), 'configuration_standard')

describe ActionSms::Base do
  context 'configuration' do
    before :all do
      File.open( File.join(File.dirname(__FILE__), '..', 'lib', 'action_sms', 'sms_fu.yml')) do |conf|
        @config = YAML.load(conf)
      end
    end

    it_should_behave_like 'standard configuration'
  end

  context 'within Rails' do
    before :all do
      Rails = mock('rails', :root => File.join(File.dirname(__FILE__), 'rails') )
      load File.join(File.dirname(__FILE__), 'spec_helper.rb')

      File.open( File.join(Rails.root, 'config', 'sms_fu.yml') ) do |conf|
        @config = YAML.load(conf)
      end
    end

    it_should_behave_like 'standard configuration'
  end
end


Many of the ideas for my designs come from our stunning, natural surroundings; the delicate textures, patterns and forms we find in nature. Beautiful, natural objects, collected on walks around the country, become templates, models or the starting point for an idea. I have made jewellery for people using, for example, a leaf, flower or seed from their favourite tree or flower in their garden, or local environment, and enjoy working with people to design and create bespoke pieces of jewellery that have special, personal meaning for them.
My jewellery is individually designed and made in my home studio using traditional silversmithing methods enhanced by fresh, modern influences and techniques. I work mainly with sterling silver, sometimes with accents of copper or gold, and sometimes incorporating semi-precious stones and other materials such as glass and resin.
You are welcome to arrange to come and view pieces in my studio and commissions are welcome.


Amethyst's purple color has resulted in much demand for it for jewelry making throughout history. It was worn by royalty throughout Europe and Egypt.
Amethyst is clear quartz with iron inside that makes it appear purple. It is the most common quartz you will see in fine jewelry. The color ranges from pale lavender to deep purple. Amethyst is mined in Canada, the US, Brazil, Uruguay, Bolivia, Argentina, Zambia, Namibia and Australia. Australian amethyst tends to be darkest and rarest, while South American amethyst is available in much larger numbers.


text:
Breakthrough Artist of the Year 2020
Tenille Townes
Canadian-born and Nashville-based, Tenille Townes is "poised for a breakthrough" (Refinery29). On top of an ever-growing list of accolades that includes Amazon Music's "2019 Artists To Watch," The Bobby Bones Show's "Class of 2019," CMT's "Next Women of Country," CMT's "Listen Up," iHeartRadio's "Artists To Watch in 2019," iHeartCountry's "On The Verge" artist and the inaugural class of "Opry NextStage," Townes is currently on tour with Miranda Lambert as part of her "Roadside Bars & Pink Guitars Tour" and will perform select dates with Maren Morris later this fall.
The reigning CCMA Female Vocalist and Anthem Entertainment Songwriter of the Year has garnered widespread attention including praise from Billboard, The Tennessean, Sounds Like Nashville, The Boot and NPR Music, who declares, "…one of the most promising arrivals in mainstream Nashville's burgeoning singer-songwriter movement." Townes has released four tracks from her forthcoming full-length debut album, "Somebody's Daughter"—which reached No. 1 on both Canadian Mediabase and Nielsen BDS Country Airplay, and was named CCMA Single and Video of the Year —"White Horse," "I Kept The Roses" and her current single, "Jersey On The Wall." Produced by Jay Joyce, the album is set for release via Columbia Nashville.
Breakthrough Artist of the Year
Sponsored by FACTOR, the Government of Canada, and Canada's Private Radio Broadcasters


What would it take to "drain the swamp"?
Am I supposed to know your history? I've been a member here 2 days.
I would completely fail to see what "Christian" agenda Sanders or Clinton would have when there seems to be no factors that would indicate either one of them being Christians. Donald, I have no clue and when you just toss in handles like "Liz," or "Susan" how are we supposed to even know who you are talking about?
I am not advocating the support of any political party. The Bible upholds the truth of the Gospel as the most important directive. And since no issue one can name can be removed from the Gospel, that includes lies fomented by political movements.
I'll make a note to give you a wide berth because there is no "love" in the above quote.
I apologize. I just got tired of political addenda's being quarreled over for about 9 months. I'm a sinner too. I'm sorry.
As far as Christian agendas go I doubt if anyone I mentioned have one, except as a means for getting votes and filling their pockets. Liz is Elizabeth Warren a Senator(D) from Massachusetts and Susan is Susan Collins a Senator (R) from Maine. Liz wants not only to increase taxes on the rich but to tax their already accumulated wealth too. Susan want to replace Social Security numbers with PIN numbers.
I was looking for alternative candidates for 2020. I'm disgusted.
You have written it all very clearly and I agree and thank you for taking to time to spell this out for others......I think a lot of people need to read this.
I am not an American, but politics is part of my background along with economics and I keep a close eye on what is happening in the USA, many Canadians are watching and hoping the ship can be turned around.
I agree Trump has been dealt a tremendous amount of grief for his efforts and he seems to have the type of character to move on and focus on what he has to do.
I am absolutely sure that we do not know the half of what he has had to deal with, I am sure the threats on his life are daily.
If he were an insider, he would not receive near the amount of grief from his own stated party as he does. He wasn't the candidate the upper echelon in the GOP wanted and they have treated him as such. You vote for who the GOP elite tell you to, whether they are the choice of the people or not. They did it with McCain. They did it with Romney. They very much wanted to do it this time around with Jeb Bush. Which would have resulted in a gigantic thud of Failure. Trump said exactly what a huge chunk of disenfranchised Americans, (much, much larger than the Left wants you to know) wanted to hear. He plugged into their anger, and he plugged into their feeling that they had no voice in a climate that, at that time, was growing more shrill by the day that you either went the Liberal way or you got kicked off the playground. Accept abortion. Accept homosexuality. Love Islam. Racism is everywhere. All cops are evil. Open borders. All men are evil. All white people are evil. Stop being a Christian. Money is evil unless I'm the one who's got it. This is the endless tirade we heard from the Left for 8 years, in increasing frequency every week. People were sick of it and Trump realized that. He used it to his advantage. And since the Left never learn from their mistakes, they are doubling down on the rhetoric and calling America stupid for still failing to buy it. You don't get people to vote for you by telling them they are stupid. That didn't work for either party in 2017.
I am not a Trump supporter, and I did not vote for him, based on some moral issues in his past. I also did not vote for Hillary because no one who supports abortion, homosexuality, or today's Liberalism, in general, will ever get my vote. I have no doubt that Trump loves America. I don't know that the term "patriot" applies, because he often says what he thinks people want to hear. That makes it difficult to glean when he is sincere and when he is not. I think he has done some good things since taking office. The one thing he has not done, which he promised to do immediately, is repeal AFCA. I also virulently disagree with his decision to take absolutely no action when it comes to the death of Jamal Khashoggi at the hands of the Saudis. What he isn't doing is putting people on plantations, locking women in closets, or doing anything remotely racist, even though the Left, and Hollywood says he is.
Trump frightens the Left for one singular reason. It isn't because he is a good speaker, he isn't. It isn't because of any deeply-held convictions, although I am sure some of them are. It isn't because he claims to be a Conservative. Trump scares the Left because he actually fights back. They aren't used to that because the GOP, the party without a functioning spine, hasn't bothered to do that for a couple of decades now. The GOP talks a lot about moral issues like abortion, and how horrible it is, but if you notice, they never actually do anything about it. The one thing Trump likes more than anything is winning. At anything. So when the Left opposes him, he will fight them tooth and nail, simply because they oppose him. The left isn't used to that and that angers them more than anything else. You don't fight the Left. That isn't allowed. You do things their way or you get escorted out of the building and banned from ever re-entering. That is what the entire "Russian collusion" non-issue is about. Trump wasn't supposed to win, Hillary was. All of it is punishment, and a large portion of sour grapes because they didn't get their way. One thing to always remember when examining anything the Left does: It is a movement based completely on Self. Everything they advocate, at it's core, is amoral.
Why do Christians always look to see how moral a leader is, politics is about public policy, when Christians make the debate about morality it fails every time.
No problem. It's easy to get frustrated sometimes.
For a Christian, there are not may issues that can be viewed outside of a moral standpoint. The fact that some people believe they can support politics and politicians that are amoral and support things God forbids while believing they can divorce those politics from their Christianity shows that there is a huge problem there. There is never an excuse, or an out for supporting things God forbids.
The reason morals is such an imperative in politics is because, by and large, amoral people do not make good leaders.
Well I disagree strongly on this point but I respect what you are saying since I thought this way as well for a time, but sadly this viewpoint has lead to the slow demise of the Republic.
We live in a fallen world, the writers of the constitution knew this, therefore the focus and the lens is not the man and personal morality but on the rule of law, the constitution and "we the people"
The left has very cleverly shifted the "evangelicals" away form this focus and making it about individual morality so now believers have been displaced where they once held influence and sway.
Who can a Christian vote for they are all sinners?
When morality is the metric then one lie is a problem and you are right?
It is such a sad thing when the founding fathers known this could happen and tried to ensure that the focus would stay on the constitution, not about creating a theocracy, for years I have watched evengelicals fall into every trap set for them and now they have made themselves irrelevant to the political process.
It wasn't the Left. Evangelical's themselves did a slow creep away from morality and orthodoxy, that is still on-going, by slowly dismissing the importance of morality and personal responsibility when it comes to the individual. When you see a person voting for someone who thinks legalized murder of unborn children is a God-given right, that's a problem, and it comes from a huge spiritual disconnect. When you see that same person justifying that same choice by saying "who I vote for isn't connected to my relationship with God", you have an even bigger problem. Because once you start skipping down that moral relativism trail, you can justify any amoral behavior. Homosexuality? Sure. Adultery? Why not. I'm sure God didn't really mean we couldn't sleep around. Murder? I'm cool with that, as long as it doesn't affect me. Since Roe vs. Wade, America has murdered more unborn children than were killed in the Holocaust. It happens every single day. Meanwhile, most Americans yawn when the subject is brought up and move on with their lives because it doesn't affect them, and they can't be bothered with it. Even Christians, which should be working hard to stop the problem. Not because it violates scripture, because it does, but because morally, it's wrong, resuland innocent people are suffering as a result. This entire problem occurred because Christians began thinking their morality and values were not connected to their Christianity and they stopped expecting the people they vote for to have moral character. That's how we've ended up with the morally-compromised people we've had for the last 20 years.
"Who can a Christian vote for they are all sinners?"
By that logic there could be absolutely no people in a person's life that could fill any leadership position. Including pastoring a church, because even Pastors sin. It has nothing to do with a theocracy. I don't support a theocracy. I don't expect a political leader to fulfill any spiritual needs for me, or anyone else. But I do expect them to possess certain moral values that guarantee they won't pursue policies and actions that are obviously morally wrong. And if those actions violate scripture, a Christian cannot vote for that person, otherwise, you are supporting what that person advocates by default, just as surely as if you were handing out flyers for it on a street corner. There is no wiggle room there at all, for a Christian, no matter what any rationalizer might say. I am not talking about the secular world. I don't expect them to make moral-based decisions and I expect them to vote for someone that is hugely compromised, like Hillary Clinton, because they don't know any better. But I don't expect to see a self-proclaimed Christian stumping for that kind of candidate, because there is no way they can, and still support the concept biblically.
Well, I think you missed my point, perhaps I was not clear.
Engagement shouldn't be optional for Christians in a nation such as the United States founded upon Christian principles and morality.
Christians have withdrawn from the sphere of public influence and then they are shocked at the result.
Never did I advocate for moral relativism.
My point is this, some people here on CC, point to all of the president"s moral failings in his private life, that is the wrong approach to our civic duty.
The correct lens is the candidate looking to implement an agenda that is contrary to, or seeks to significantly reshape the Constitution, and the very nature of the government away from a Republic?
Privately no one can pass the test.
In my view, a citizen if he/she cares about their freedoms they has an obligation to preserve, protect and defend them.
To throw up our hands and say "we are powerless in the face of this evil" are exactly the words that Satan's wants to hear.
Yes much damage has been done, yet change for good can still happen, anyone who has studied history knows this to be the case.
I want to make it clear that I am in no way saying that you, personally, advocate moral relativism.
Trump has some gigantic moral failings. Traditionally, he has supported abortion, to the point of hosting banquets for PP. He didn't start saying he was against abortion until he slipped on a conservative vest for the election. So I am dubious that he wishes to do something about abortion, and I will remain dubious until he actual does something. When it comes to women, he is abusive in the same vein Bill Clinton was. Being pro-abortion and abusing women, in one's personal life, preclude a Christian from being able to vote for that candidate. That isn't an opinion. Those are moral failings that render such a candidate non-votable for a Christian. If you are saying that these are gray areas because everyone is a sinner, then that would also mean that since a voter cannot pass a morality test, that would mean they cannot even vote at all. I can draw the line at not voting for a candidate that supports abortion and gay rights because I openly condemn those two things, as every Christian should, and I do not practice them. Nor do I support people that practice them. The Bible does not support these things either, no hypocrisy there.
A Christians first responsibility is to care about the Gospel. In a Christian's world the Gospel is supposed to be the Sun that everything else orbits around. I'm not charged to protect "freedom." I am charged to preach the Gospel. I have never said we are "powerless." I do not advocate a theocracy, but if Christians truly value moral values, and want them preserved in their country, you don't vote for people that will obviously do everything they can to erode and erase those same values. To do so you shoot yourself in the foot.
Well, it would seem you cannot separate out a fallen world, a world that is actually not under the old testament law, but the rule of secular law, and our role as those under grace.
My parents lived through tyranny and oppression so I understand it very well.
Each day, I am so thankful that God has shown me how blessed we have been and I do not take it for granted.
Be thankful you can go in the streets and protest abortion this day, some day you may not.
Some how there was a malfunction. Some times it happens and a post winds up out of order. Sometimes I think atmospheric electrical activity interferes from the cable company to the satellite to christian chat link and back. What I posted had NOTHING to do with abortion. I am adopted. My biological mother was a homeless, teenage, runaway addict. I and the rest of my living family now, myself, 4 children and 9 grandchildren and counting, would not exist if abortion was free, easy and or legal.
Abortion for birth control is murder and I oppose any one who thinks different!
General William Booth whom I quoted was the founder of the Salvation Army. He believed that preachers that only stayed in churches preaching to the saved weren't doing their jobs. He took to the streets and helped the homeless, the alcoholics and addicts (opium then). Women including prostitutes, and orphans.
His remarks and his legacy was ground breaking in the 19th & 20th Century the one I quoted is in regards to quit acting like life is permanent and act like we have a job to do while we can. There are very few preachers that I quote that aren't in the Bible. I admire him because he not only talked the talk he WALKED THE WALK of a true Evangelist.
That's why I choose to vote on issues. Not for parties or people. I ask myself with the limited info I have, "How would Jesus vote?"
The segment of the world that claims to be Christian but embraces secular "values."
I do not expect the fallen world to act with morality. But I am not required, nor am I supposed to, support their lack of values. As a Christian, I am supposed to illustrate their lack of morality. It is not a values vs. lack of values issue. For Christians, it is a matter of internal spiritual integrity. If a person who claims to be a Christian is voting for any candidate that supports something God condemns or forbids, fallen world vs. Christian world has nothing to do with it. There is a problem with the person's spiritual integrity.
People can and do change, moral personal failings (meaning apart from criminal/civil laws) does not preclude someone from being an effective leader for good in a country.
If someone as a leader, has the best interest of the people he serves at heart, based on the facts and the performance of the leader knowing that there are always competing interests in any society, then I think believers can support that person.
I think there have been three presidents that were not part of the plan to subjugate humans, Lincoln, Kennedy and Trump.
The words "drain the swamp" are a part of the current political discussion. We may not all agree on what this proverbial "swamp" is. According to my understanding, it means getting rid of politicians and bureaucrats who are doing more harm than good.
A Democrat may think that Republicans are the "swamp". Republicans may think that Democrats are the "swamp".
Are "swamps" exclusive to the American political situation?
It seems that there is something wrong with the political situation that exists south of the American borders where drug cartels, human traffickers,gang members, and corruption seems to have its way without any real system of checks and balances. So, many of us do not want the Mexican "swamp" to become integrated with the American swamp.
China has its form of oppression and human exploitation that is used to promote unfair international trade practices. China has a big time "swamp" that has been confronted by our current president.
Russia is ruled by an oligarchy with a bunch of cronies in their "swamp".
Are there cultural factors that accompany the creation of a swamp? Are there moral factors that accompany the creation of a swamp? Are there spiritual factors that accompany the creation of a swamp? Can the definition of "swamp" be expanded to include a variety of scenarios?
In the Bible, we find various cultures that were eliminated because of an entire society that had forgotten about God.
The world was flooded during the time of Noah because of rampant immorality. A "swamp" was wiped out by a flood.
The Tower of Babel was destroyed because the entire population of the earth was consumed with the desire to build a man made utopia that excluded God. Perhaps the "swamp" of secular humanism that existed at Babel did not get drained, but it did get scattered.
Sodom was destroyed due to sexual immorality and rampant homosexuality. The "swamp" of Sodom and Gamorrah had become intolerable to the Lord.
God told Joshua to exterminate the Canaanites; who were sacrificing their children to idols. The Lord did not want His chosen people to inhabit a swamp that was polluted with idols and the shedding of innocent blood that accompanied the worship of these idols.
Are there cultural, societal, and political equivalents to Babel, Sodom, and Canaan in the world (and in our country) today? Absolutely.
It seems evident to me that a number of "swamps" got drained in Old Testament times.
It is also apparent that every swamp (political, societal, and cultural) in this world will be drained when Jesus returns to rule and reign. This series of events will be cataclysmic. Many will not survive and even the topography of the earth will be altered.
In the meantime, what can we do now, in this day and age, to drain a bunch of political, cultural, and societal "swamps" that are an unfortunate part of our existence?
I don't know the answers to this question. I suppose that we can all endeavor to be informed and to be a part of the solution as opposed to being a part of the problem.
Don't be a creature of the "swamp".
Prayer and enforcing the law for all- even politicians, bankers, etc???
The question is, should we even try?
Traditions of man, have made the word of God so void, that "love's blind eye" too readily accepts that which should be condemned! This CANNOT be accomplished, if no one JUDGES these (I use the term loosely) Angels!
Moreover Azazyel taught men to make swords, knives, shields, breastplates, the fabrication of mirrors, and the workmanship of bracelets and ornaments, the use of paint, the beautifying of the eyebrows, the use of stones of every valuable and select kind, and all sorts of dyes, so that the world became altered.
2 Impiety increased; fornication multiplied; and they transgressed and corrupted all their ways.
(9) Observers of the stars. Astrologers (Charles, p. 67).
28 In those days I will open the treasures of blessing which are in heaven, that I may cause them to descend upon earth, and upon all the works and labour of man.
This should be enough to get started!
So, we may "hasten" the day of our Lord's return!


Annebelle heads up international marketing strategy and execution for Spier Wines and Spier Resort Management. Her approach has initiated successful multi-tiered campaigns and fostered solid international channel relationships in South Africa, Denmark, the UK and other key markets. She has guided the Spier marketing and business team through its trajectory as an international award-winning wine brand and an ethical business enterprise; defining Spier as an organisation that makes a vibrant contribution to the arts and social programmes, as well as to thought-leadership on ethical production.
Annebelle's early background in film production and her role as Festival Director for the not-for-profit Spier Arts Trust (2001-2007) has strongly influenced her creative approach and that of the team she leads.