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Nigeness
A hedonic resource
Hello Emmylou, Goodbye Dear Departed
Listening to Emmylou Harris last night, my mind wandered back to the subject of secular funeral music. If you must have secular, this seems to me to fit the bill beautifully. Ostensibly it's about a dog (must have been some dog!), but it's a beautiful, universal song of loss and grief. As is her other classic, Boulder to Birmingham. Equally fitting for a funeral would be her lovely version of Beyond the Great Divide (on All I Intended to Be). There - three secular options, none of which would set the teeth on edge.
Posted by Nige at 09:59 11 comments:
Busy Busy
Brit usefully divides the human race - or rather the working portion of it - into Tortoises and Hares. There are, of course, two kinds of people: those who divide the world into two kinds of people, and those who don't - but here's another useful division: People who get round to things and People who don't. There's a saying 'If you want a job done, ask a busy man' and it has a deal of truth in it. A busy person is, self-evidently, a person who gets round to doing things; an underoccupied person is one who doesn't. A busy person is also likely to be one who knows how to manage his time to fit into it as much as he can, and to get jobs out of the way with as much dispatch as possible. As I draw near my seventh decade (Lord, there's a thought) and life gets relentelssly busier rather than quieter, I find myself organising my time more and more - in order not to let it got to waste, and, mostly, in the interests of fitting in as many pleasurable activities (reading, walking, listening to music etc) as possible. I am the more busy that I may spend more time pleasurably and profitably 'idle'. On the other hand, if you want a job done, please don't ask me.
Posted by Nige at 17:28 7 comments:
The Radio Age
More progress (ha!) on the retroprogressive front, with the latest radio listening figures showing that 45.7 million people listen every week - that's very nearly 90 percent of the population. Surely television, the shiny new medium, was supposed to sweep radio listening into the margins, a quaint survival in an age of wraparound visual entertainment. Well happily it hasn't worked out that way. The trouble with any form of visual entertainment is that it necessarily has a static source - whether TV or computer (mobile phones are really not an option) - and therefore requires rather a lot of focused attention. Radio, on the other hand, being nothing more than sounds in the air, can follow you anywhere, and you can get the minimal equipment you need in totally portable form. 'Perfect for today's busy lifestyle.' (In the early days of radio, it was, oddly, more like TV, in that the family would assemble round the only set in the house, essentially a large item of furniture, and focus their attention on it, even staring at it as if there was something to see. Hence the decorative fretboard over the speaker.) Radio listening is a wholly different experience from TV watching - more human, more intimate, more like being with another person. It has a stronger emotional hold than television, is more like 'company'. And, of course, there's an awful lot of good stuff on, especially on Radios 3 and 4 - both showing good increases in listeners in the latest figures. This very morning I was listening to Melvyn and co discussing Schopenhauer on Radio 4 (admittedly this would be followed in due course by Woman's Hour and You and Yours, but it's an imperfect world). This is the Radio Age - forward to the past!
Any Excuse for a Picture of Venice...
Born on this day in 1697, Giovanni Antonio Canal. Surname Canal, nickname Canaletto, special subject canals (Venetian). There is no disputing that his early paintings (and his etchings) tend to be much more rewarding than his often repetitive and formulaic later work. We are lucky to have his wonderful (early) Stonemason's Yard in the National Gallery. When Canaletto was working in England, he was certainly not at his best, and the critic George Vertue even questioned whether the artist representing himself as 'Canaletto' was in fact the real thing. The poor man had to give public painting demonstrations to establish that he was...
Meanwhile, Venice awaited Turner.
Reading and Reviewing and Rereading and Transparent Things
I see that tomorrow - or probably, by the time you're reading this, today - this bizarre project reaches its triumphant end: Nina Sankovich will have read and reviewed 365 books in 365 days. What the? you may well ask, followed by Why the? Is there a book of anything like book length that can be truly read in one day, let alone sufficiently assimilated to be usefully reviewed? Me, I've just spent a week's reading time on Nabokov's Transparent Things - a novella of little more than 100 pages. I suppose, if I'd had nothing else occupying me and my eyes weren't in their permanent state of screen-strain, I could have read it in a day, conceivably even 'reviewed' it on the same day, but to little effect. 'Let us now illustrate our difficulties.' Transparent Things is one of those books I return to again and again, am never disappointed and always find new wonders, new beauties and new mysteries. I first read it in the pages of - Playboy was it? Or Esquire? - and have been rereading it at intervals ever since. It seems a perfect condensate of Nabokov's genius, his late masterpiece, containing a hint at least of everything that makes him great, while striking out in what seems a novel and strange direction. On the face of it (those who know it, forgive the rehearsal), it is an account of four visits to Switzerland, separated by 20 years or so, by a sullen, gawky misfit of a publisher, in the course of which his father dies, he (himself) has a professional encounter with the immensely distinguished and morally derelict writer R, falls in love with the icily promiscuous Armande, marries her, and, on the last visit, returns self-widowed to meet his own end ('This is, I believe, it; not the crude anguish of physical death but the incomparable pangs of the mysterious mental maneuver needed to pass from one state of being into another.'). Along the way... Along the way, what? Transparent Things is an agile, beady-eyed, seriocomic meditation on time and memory and dreamlife and loss, and on the 'transparent things, though which the past shines'. It's a tale told by whom? Even such a basic question is not easily answered... But this is not a review. Even this slim volume was not read, reread, rereread, in a day. 'Easy, you know, does it, son.'
Labels: Nina Sankovich, Slow Reading, Transparent Things, Vladimir Nabokov
And Timothy Dexter
Before the day is over, I guess we should commemorate this fellow, who died on this date in 1806. There's really nothing to add to the extraordinary story outined here, except perhaps a few !s
The Best Time of Year?
Today being one of those perfect autumn days that seem almost too good to be true, I was out of the house like a shot to continue my Picturesque Tour Through Ye Whole Countie of Surrey - or rather those of its more agreeable parts that are within reach of the railway network. A day of duckegg blue skies, warm golden sun, the trees in all their autumn beauty. My first destination was Great Bookham, one of those cosy, low-slung, brick-built and tile-hung, well-fed and prosperous Surrey villages that still retain a villagey character and life, with plenty of shops, plenty of people about, plenty of smiles and good cheer and unsolicited Hellos - at least on a day of such cheering weather. I wanted to see the church, which stands at a crossroads in the middle of the village, a big stocky weatherboarded tower at the West end, a neatly restored 14th-century chancel at the other, the body of the church still recognisably Norman, with short fat scalloped piers, the general effect very charming. Some surprisingly grand monuments of the 17th and 18th centuries dominate the interior - and the best of these is a gem. It commemorates Cornet Geary, killed in the American War of Independence, in 1776, at Flemington, New Jersey. Britannia mourns over a portrait medallion of the young man, beneath which a delicately carved relief depicts his death, in an ambush. Pevsner raves over it- 'a composition as elegant and tender as an early Mozart symphony' - and accords it a photographic plate (sadly I cannot find anything more than the relief online, and that too small to reproduce). Well, Cornet Geary alone was worth the trip, but I carried on, walking by tracks and byways over to Westhumble, ending with a brisk climb up the dip of Box Hill to admire the view. Ah those trees - every shade from the blue-black of yew and box, to tired deciduous greens, through every tint in the yellow-orange palette, copper and bronze, pink and claret and burgundy and fierce splashes of blazing red. Glorious. This time of year, in warm sunny weather, is surely the best of all - apart from the lack of butterflies (though I saw a couple of lingerers - a Painted Lady and a Red Admiral)... I made my way down to Westhumble station - also admired by Pevsner - and so, warmed and cheered and sustained, home.
Scepticism (again)
I'm happy to say I haven't seen the piece of alarmist TV propaganda (paid for, presumably, with my money and yours) skewered here by the redoubtable Gaw. If I had, I would probably have thrown something at the telly; those of a more practical bent have, I gather, complained in large numbers to the ASA, which is good. It just shows the level of hysterical stridency with which the propagation of the warmist gospel and the onslaught on the 'deniers' (see also Gaw's How to Ruin a Word) are now being conducted. As I've argued many a time, the only intellectually respectable position on the subject of anthropogenic climate change is one of scepticism. For that reason, I was especially glad to hear Clive James also making the case for scepticism on Radio 4 - making it eloquently, wittily but forcefully, while at the same time introducing a startled nation to the possibility that we might have been eating sliced golf balls in our potato crisps. The trouble with scepticism, of course, is that it is liable to get drowned out when debate is conducted - or rather evaded - in the manner exemplified by that TV ad. Perhaps, in the end, the warmist onslaught will, as Gaw suggests, become entirely counterproductive, and that might, just might start a general drift towards scepticism. Let's hope so, for everyone's sake.
Cravat Heroes, No 3: Clark Kent
See - even Superman wears a cravat. I rest my case.
Shaving News
Long-term readers of this blog may recall my dalliance with the improbably futuristic Azor... Since then my ardour has cooled, to the point where I gave up on the thing altogether and reverted to the trusty Gilette Fusion. However, the other day I spotted Azors on sale at half price - yes, half price, and with two spare blades thrown in. Who could resist? Not me - but, before ripping the plastic casing off the new Azor (no easy feat), I thought I'd see if there was any shave left in the old one. To my surprise, it's still shaving well - indeed it shows no sign of blunting. That Endurium coating must work, after all... At this rate the new Azor with its two spare blades will see me out - or certainly last until there are no more Azors to be had. Which, I fancy, won't be long. It's a razor ahead of its time.
Those Crazy French
Ah the glorious (root: gloire) absurdity of the French never ceases to amuse. Now they're celebrating the 50th anniversary of a clapped-out cartoon character with a costumed pageant, a seminar at the Sorbonne, a musical, a flypast, que sais-j'encore - oh and, for good measure, a bitter squabble among several villages over which of them inspired Asterix's home. Only in France would the anniversary of a cartoon character who, even in the fans' estimate, long ago ceased to be any good, and was never funny (except perhaps to the French, whose sense of humour is no laughing matter), spark such a frenzy of self-congratulatory brouhaha. He may be rubbish, is the French line, but he's our rubbish. Asterix is held to stand for the plucky, wily, sturdily independent French nation, holding out against the forces of US cultural imperialism, or whatever is the latest threat to precious French identity (not much holding out in the Last Spot of Bother, if memory serves)... Not that I'm knocking it - the reason France is still France is precisely this inflated sense of her own importance. It's just that I can't see any other nation on earth celebrating 50 years of an unfunny cartoon character on quite such an absurdly grandiose scale. Vive la France!
New Zealand's Top Bird
My daughter sent me this from that strange and wonderful country, New Zealand. As it had me in fits of laughter, I pass it on in the interests of spreading a little jollity. I think it's phrases like 'flightless national bore' and 'feathered ground dweller' that do it - and the fact the Rio Tinto sponsor the Kakapo (that's the feathered ground dweller that climbs up trees and falls off, I believe). They do indeed take their birds seriously in New Zealand. When Oddie ran a similiar poll over here, I don't remember Rio Tinto throwing its corporate weight behind the Chaffinch...
Happy Birthday, Manfred and Sir Geoffrey!
Like Tom Waits and me, Geoff Boycott and Manfred Mann were born on the same day - in their case this day - in the same year, in their case 1940. I imagine restrained celebrations are going on wherever it is that Manfred now hangs his hat (still a 'Beat generation' model, I'll warrant). We can be sure that, at Colombey les Deux Sweatbands, our Geoffrey is already draped with adoring female revellers, beguiling them with tales of his days (or was it weeks?) at the crease. How differently things would have turned out if Manfred (born, after all, in sports-mad South Africa)had chosen to wield the willow or tweak the crimson rambler, and Geoff had opted for the chinbeard and black poloneck of the 'hep cat' and started his own beat combo - the Sir Geoffrey Quintet perhaps... Ah well, history is full of might have beens.
Mourning Magpies
Talking of funerals, this news should surprise no one who has observed our corvine friends at all closely (see, for example, Mark Cocker's wonderful book Crow Country). All crows are phenomenally intelligent (for birds), with highly developed social habits, and might very well 'mourn' their dead. The magpies seem to be secularists thus far - no croaking choruses of Dear Lord and Father of Magpiekind - but at least they don't have recourse to Wind Beneath My Wings... The man is surely right when he says: 'It's bad biology to argue against the existence of animal emotions.'
Funeral Hero
Not a companion series to the epoch-making Cravat Heroes, but simply a way to draw attention to this commendably outspoken cleric. Needless to say, I agree with the thrust of his sentiments, and am delighted a C of E vicar (obviously at the High end of the Church) dares to speak so robustly, if only on a blog. The fact is that improvisation of a funeral service invariably leads to banality and bathos - why not rely on the old, time-honoured forms, which at least lend dignity and a deeper, wider significance to the proceedings?
A fine autumn sun belatedly appearing this afternoon, I took myself out for a stroll around a local park, shielding my eyes against the dazzle, admiring the trees in their seasonal colours, bright against a strong blue sky, and keeping an eye open for the kingfisher. I didn't see him (him? Why do we always assume that? And that there is only one?), but I did have the satisfying small thrill of seeing my first redwing of the year. A small busy party of a dozen or so of these pretty little northern thrushes were restlessly mustering in a poplar tree and, of course, giving that distinctive flight call that rarely seems to stop. John Fowles describes it as 'a very thin, high-pitched, glistening whistle, an inbreath... I kept on thinking of the adjective glistening. Like a sudden small gleam of old silver in a dark room. Strange remote beautiful sounds...'
Strange, remote and beautiful indeed - the sound of northern wilderness, heard in a suburban park. Winter is on its way.
Christina Stead - Handle With Care
If I haven't posted much about my reading lately, it's because I have been immersed - I use the word advisedly - in an extraordinary (and very long) novel, Christina Stead's The Man Who Loved Children. This is a book that swallows you whole, and demands in turn that you swallow it whole. The world it throws you into is so entire, and so utterly extraordinary, that there are no half measures, no easy accommodations to be made (in this - and to some extent in subject matter - it resembles the work of Ivy Compton Burnett). Published in 1940 and set in Washington and Indianopolis in the 1930s, it is in fact (in shocking fact) closely based on Stead's own Australian childhood in the 1910s. It is, in a sentence, the portait of an unhappy marriage - unhappy on an epic, a monstrous scale - and of the ways in which the two parties to that disastrous mismatch use, abuse and oppress their children in their own cause. Henny, the wife, has become a raging, ranting harridan, still loved by her young children, capable of tenderness, but capable too of turning on them in her rage, a rage so intense and violent that she frequently passes out from the sheer force of it. Why is she like this? The reason is soon apparent, in the shape of her husband Sam, an overgrown child with no understanding of life but with an absolute, unshakable conviction of his own goodness and the rightness of his ideals (which include more than a dash of eugenics). His goodness is him - and so, tragically, are his children. They are his project, and he sees no boundaries between him and them - a fact which is at its most terrible in his relations with his eldest daughter, Louise, the child of his late first wife. He sees himself as telepathically linked to Louise, who can have no life independent of him, no secrets, and who will be mercilessly, shockingly mocked and humiliated if he discovers signs of independent life - all, of course, for her own good, as Sam can only be good. While relations between husband and wife have broken down, to the point where they communicate only in terse messages passed on by the children or in appalling, epic rows (the word is too weak), Sam - 'the man who loves children' - cultivates his relations with the children with ferocious, unceasing energy, constantly engaging them in merry, loud and messy busyness about the house and in the grounds, even enlisting nieghbourhood children into his loving circle. All are chivvied along in a joshing, wheedling invented language of sickly diminutives and babytalk - used liberally even with the adolescent 'Looloo' (one of half a dozen silly names for her, while Sam is, according to mood, 'Sam-the-great' or 'po' little Sam'). While Sam and his tribe of child helpers crash around, Henny skulks and rages, hurling the vilest insults both at Sam and at the unprepossessing, but smart and perceptive, Louise. So far, so nightmarish. The only glimpses of something like normality come when one or other of the principals is briefly at large in the world outside the family home - most notably when Sam is away in Singapore for eight months. On his return, it seems briefly as if he is not going to slip back into the Sam of old - but alas, he does, and events progress towards the inevitable terrible climax (but one which, mercifully, leaves more than a glimmer of hope for poor Louise).
Outlined like this, The Man Who Loved Children sounds like some exercise in Gothic excess or grand guignol - but it reads like the purest naturalism, however jaw-droppingly appalling the action that is being described (and at times it can even be construed as horribly comic). Stead's touch is so sure, her conviction so absolute, her writing so charged with fierce energy, that this wild, implausible world seems only too plausibly real. Randall Jarrell puts it brilliantly in his prefatory essay, which I am only reading now that I've finished the book. The real life of families, correctly remembered, is implausible: 'There in that warm, dark second womb, the bosom of the family, everything is carried far past plausibility; a family's private life is as immoderate and insensate, compared to its public life, as our thoughts are, compared to our speech.' Quite so - and family life doesn't come much more immoderate and insensate than it is in The Man Who Loved Children. I think this is a very great book - I'm amazed it isn't better known - but it is one of the most emotionally lacerating, at times very nearly unbearable, reading experiences I have had. Like Flannery O'Connor, Stead gives no quarter, she flays the emotions, she appalls. I am still dazed and reeling, and no doubt will be for some time. I recommend it then, wholeheartedly - but not lightly. It is a book to be handled with care.
Labels: The Man Who Loved Children
Cravat Heroes, No 2 - Charles Colllingwood
Charles Collingwood is best known for playing Brian Aldridge in The Archers, a part he has inhabited for more than quarter of a century (he is also married to the actress who plays Shula, perhaps the most loathsome inhabitant of Ambridge, but we'll pass that over in decent silence). In The Archers, Brian is the long-suffering husband of foghorn-voiced Jennifer ('Daaahling!) and father to her (and in some cases his) ungrateful brood. With his robust commonsense views, Aldridge is a rare beacon of sanity in tree-hugging, gay's-the-word, multi-culty Ambridge - indeed without him The Archers would be all but unendurable. If he has a fault, it is the excessivly tender heart that has led him into a few scrapes along the way - not least when he unwisely took pity on a barking mad Irishwoman and fathered a boy with a name consisting entirely of vowels. Naturally, with the mother dead, Brian is doing the decent thing and raising the brat in the bosom of the family...
Collingwood was educated at Sherborne, after which he took a double first in Suavety and Charm at the Academy of Smooth, and sailed into the world of showbiz. In 1981, he co-hosted a quiz show on Southern Television with Bernard Manning (that's true). Nowadays, he is a frequent, and always welcome, presence on many a radio chat show and panel game. Like any sane Englishman, Charles loves cricket. Favourite wine: Soave. Favourite dance: American Smooth. Favourite neckwear: Need you ask? Hail Collingwood/Aldridge - cravat hero!
Labels: Ambridge, The Archers
Another Bringer of Joy
Yesterday Wodehouse, today another bringer of quiet but profound joy into the world - the artist and illustrator Edward Ardizzone, born on this day in 1900. His easy style, with its gentle rounded lines and carefully modulated crosshatching, has an irresistible charm and is instantly, joyously recognisable. Almost any book is worth picking up if it's illustrated by Ardizzone - especially if he did the dust jacket too. His autobiographical writings, The Young Ardizzone and Baggage to the Enemy (about his experiences as a war artist), are worth seeking out, and there's a lovely volume of his Sketches for Friends. He never stopped drawing, and everything he made seems to breathe his generous, good-humoured love of life. For a taste of Ardizzone's world, take a tour of this website...
Labels: Edward Ardizzone
Don't They Know There's a War On?
As Gordon Brown read out the names of the latest war dead before Prime Minister's Questions yesterday, I must admit I felt a twinge of stony cynicism - not least because the recital takes a chunk of time out of PMQs and alters the mood of the occasion, knocking the fight out of all present. It surely isn't the right time and place. And besides, to adapt a phrase from the Last Spot of Bother, Don't they know there's a war on? Though every death is of course a tragedy for those close to the fallen, and some gesture of national mourning is demanded, these men are, after all, professional soldiers - not conscripts - fighting a war, and in any war there are casualties. Why the reluctance to face the fact that we are at war? Perhaps it's the widespread suspicion that this is 'really' America's war and we shouldn't be involved (it isn't and we should). Perhaps we're just too used to peace - that unnatural state of affairs - to be able to stomach the idea of war and its costs any more... Ironically, Brown's reading came on the 70th anniversary of the sinking of the battleship Royal Oak at Scapa Flow by a German U-boat, with the loss of 833 men and boys. We should perhaps think ourselves lucky that this time we're fighting a war where the names of the dead are few enough to be read out in a matter of minutes.
It's Wodehouse Day...
Or rather it should be. In these dark days, it would surely do the nation good to celebrate every year its presiding comic genius, born on this day in 1881. He was, after all, the greatest comic writer in English, one who created not one but two comic worlds that will surely endure - a rare thing in comedy, which tends to date very fast. Of course he wrote too many potboilers - he was nothing if not a professional, and he earned a huge amount of money by his pen - but there must be very few, if any, that don't have, among the stock characters and formulaic plots, the odd scene or turn of phrase in which the Wodehouse genius shines through. And then there are those two classic worlds - the world of Blandings and the world of Jeeves and Wooster, into either of which it is such an unfailing joy to slip at any time. Pick up a Wodehouse, enjoy the day, and give thanks for a writer who gave so much laughter to the world.
Small c
Over on the excellent Gaw's Ragbag blog, there's a ten-point 'Am I a conservative?' test. Unsurprisingly, being a thoroughgoing retroprogressive reactionary, I scored a straight 10, but I wonder how many in the current party that bears the Conservative name would... As the long-awaited (or dreaded) general election draws near, here, to set us all aright, are wise words on politics and its limitations from the conservative philosopher Michael Oakeshott:
'In political activity, then, men sail a boundless and bottomless sea: there is neither harbour for shelter, nor floor for anchorage, neither starting place nor appointed destination. The enterprise is to keep afloat on an even keel: the sea is both friend and enemy: and the seamanship consists in using the resources of a traditional manner of behaviour in order to make a friend of every hostile occasion.'
If the Great Helmsman Brown - and Blair before him - had heeded those words, we wouldn't be in the state we're in now.
A Dahl Rant to Start the Day
The infantilising of our culture proceeds apace. This morning that august broadcasting institution the Today programme devoted an inordinate length of peak listening time to a free commercial for the latest Roald Dahl adaptation, an animation of Fantastic Mr Fox. Dahl was a nasty overgrown child whose nasty stories have sadly proved enduringly popular with children and, worse, adults alike - many of them no doubt reared in their formative years on Dahl's stories. Happily my own children proved resistant to Dahl's charms, despite attending a primary school where there was almost nothing else on the literary menu - but most succumbed and still succumb all too easily, with heaven knows what effects. It's a hard (not to say impossible) case to stand up, but I do suspect that teachers pushing the works of Dahl might have played some small part in the wave of indiscipline, disrespect and moral nihilism that engulfed the country over the past couple of decades. And now adults and children alike are queuing up for more, as they queued up for Harry Potter and The Hobbit and street-urchin clothing and a thousand other 'childish things' - and the Today programme, it seems, is right behind them.
Posted by Nige at 10:17 140 comments:
Brace Yourselves - It's a Carnivorous Butterfly
In a comment below yesterday's Global Cooling post, Gaw raises the spectre of a carnivorous butterfly. Well, read this affecting tale, and weep... Truly, there is no end to Nature's wonders - and horrors.
Change in the Weather...
Did anyone catch the new-style weather forecast on PM yesterday, or indeed on Today this morning? It struck me as a huge, long overdue improvement, replacing the grand narrative of UK weather with the information we actually want - i.e. what the weather's going to be like where we are. A bit tricky for those living in marginal areas, true - and the forecast will be no more reliable than before - but at least we can just keep an ear cocked for the bit of the story that affects us, and not have to try to concentrate through some grand saga beginning in the Outer Hebrides and taking a leisurely tour of the provinces before alighting on anywhere people actually live - by which time concentration, even consciousness, are long gone. This morning's forecast even began with the South East! How un-PC, how un-BBC is that? I could hardly believe my ears. And I was able to think of other things (or, more precisely, nothing) for the rest of the forecast. It seems not all change is for the worse, after all.
BBC Accepts Global Cooling!
Well, not quite - but this is not the kind of thing you expect to emanate from the mighty BBC News operation. Is it perhaps a sign that the climate of opinion is finally beginning - just beginning, painfully slowly - to change? The conclusion of the piece does seem remarkable, in the context: 'One thing is for sure. The debate about what is causing climate change is far from over.' Really? That's for sure? The official line from our political leaders and consensus scientists is that the debate is indeed over, and those who question the consensus are liable to get harsh treatment - see,for example, this. No doubt the BBC's strange misconception will be corrected in due course.
A Different View of Delft
Painted by one Egbert van der Poel, this melancholy image is in the National Gallery. It is A View of Delft After the Explosion of 1654 - the catastophic explosion of a gunpowder store in the town on this day (also, as it happens, a Monday) in that year. Luckily, many people were away, visting a market in Schiedam and a fair in the Hague, but the death toll certainly exceeded a hundred, and the devastation, as the painting shows, was extensive. Vermeer, who was then 21, was not affected, but another painter - Carel Fabritius, the most gifted and original of Rembrandt's pupils - was injured and subsequently died of his wounds, at the age of 32. Fabritius, who left few works behind, is best remembered for his extraordinary painting of a goldfinch, which lives in the Mauritshuis, along with Vermeer's view of Delft, that fathomless masterpiece. But look at this, by Fabritius - now there's a different view of Delft.
Looking Back...
The cover story of the Autumn issue of the indispensable Butterfly magazine is, of course, the Summer of the Painted Lady. The numbers are still being crunched, but it seems likely that around a billion Painted Ladies swept across the UK, at the western end of a front some 850 miles long. They flew with such vigour and carried on so far north that some reached St Kilda - the first butterflies of any kind seen there in two years - and others flew on all the way to Iceland. The article poses an intriguing question: What happens now? As the weather cools, the butterflies can't survive, and the obvious thing for them to do would be to turn round and migrate south for the winter, as Red Admirals do. But Painted Ladies have rarely been observed flying south in autumn. Are they flying at high altitude, making use of faster winds? No one knows...
Naturally, reading this got me thinking back over my own butterfly summer, from
the first Holly Blues and Speckled Woods to the profusion of Orange Tips,that memorable encounter with a Green Hairstreak and those beautiful Dark Green Fritillaries. There were happy times among the
Silver-Washed Fritillaries and White Admirals - and more Silver-Washed Fritillaries; an indoor Peacock; those uncommonly beautiful Common Blues that treated me to so many close-up inspections - and there was one great day on the downs, the high point of the season. I glimpsed my first Gatekeeper of the season from a train, and, much later, a Clouded Yellow from Bryan's car - then more Clouded Yellows in the October sun in France... And that was the end of summer. Still, the sky is blue today, the sun is warm. There will be a few stragglers still flying.
Cravat Heroes, No 1: Nicholas Parsons
As the cravat season is upon us, Nigeness is proud to launch an occasional (probably very occasional) series on great cravat men - and who better to begin with than cravat icon Nicholas Parsons, whose birthday falls today. Amazingly, the ageless Parsons is 86. He was born in Grantham (a town with a very fine church, if little else), where his father was a GP, who may well have been the man who brought Margaret Roberts, later Thatcher, kicking and screaming into the world. Nicholas was born left-handed in times when the educational fashion was for enforcing righthandedness, with predictably damaging results. He spent five years as an engineer working in the shipyards of Clydeside before making his elegant way into the business we call show. The rest is history - not least his tireless chairmanship of Radio 4's Just A Minute: since the first broadcast in December 1967, he hasn't missed a single show. Hail Parsons - truly a cravat hero!
With NASA about to bombard the moon and take great chunks out of it, I publish this image as a warning. You don't want to upset the Man in the Moon.
Posted by Nige at 12:41 No comments:
For Lionel
A charity called Greek Animal Rescue was collecting (again) on Victoria station this morning. As the name suggests, they endeavour to rescue animals from the Greeks, whose attitude to their furry friends (as to so much else) is rather on the Turkish side. We Brits, by contrast, are generally speaking suckers and softies where animals are concerned (leaving aside what goes on out of sight in factory farms and slaughterhouses). Take this affecting story. The detail I particularly like is the 'moment's silence' for Lionel. Only in Blighty... The French would have had him out of his hole and into the pot before you could say 'Mmm homard thermidor' - and the Greeks, of course, would never dream of diving without a speargun. Fair makes you proud to be British. RIP atomised Lionel.
Hail, Zog!
Today is the birthday of the self-proclaimed King Zog of Albania (born 1895), a glamorous, high-living figure who reigned as constitutional monarch from 1928 to 1939, replaced Islamic law with a Swiss-style civil code, survived more than 50 assassination attempts - in one of which he exchanged fire with his would-be assassins - invented the Zogist salute (right hand flat over the heart, palm facing downwards), was deposed by Mussolini, and ended his days as a Riviera recluse. The throne of Albania seems for a while to have exerted a strange fascination. The cricketer - or rather, in John Arlott's phrase, 'the most variously gifted Englishman of any age' - C.B. Fry claimed he was offered it while on League of Nations business in Geneva in 1920. He might well have been - but one Otto Witte, a German circus acrobat and fantasist, claimed to have gone one better and been crowned King of Albania in 1913. Noting his resemblance to a nephew of the Sultan who had been invited by some Albanian Muslims to assume the throne, Witte travelled to Albania with a sword-swallower friend, and was duly acclaimed as King by local troops. In the five days before his ruse was discovered, he enjoyed the delights of the harem and took the opportunity to declare war on Montenegro. Unsurprisingly, no evidence was ever found to support Witte's story - but the Berlin police allowed him to describe himself as 'former King of Albania' on his identity card. I wouldn't be surprised if Albania's national hero, Norman Wisdom, regales his captive audience at the twilight home where he now resides with tales of how he too was offered the throne of Albania.
Labels: C.B. Fry, King Zog of Albania, Norman Wisdom, Otto Witte
The Nation's Favourite Poet?
So there we are, it's National Poetry Day - a day marked by the unveiling of the world's largest knitted poem (true - it's at the British Library) - and the Nation's Favourite Poet turns out to be T.S. Eliot! Well, at least it's a real, and difficult, poet - as is number 2, the only slightly more crowd-pleasing John Donne. It's when you read down to number 3 that the whole enterprise falls apart - Benjamin Zephaniah, for Jah's sake! I fear this poll result is less about poetry than other factors - recent TV exposure in the case of Eliot (an excellent Arena and Robert Webb's documentary) and Donne (Simon Schama's embarrassing documentary), and tireless puffing by the BBC and other PC outfits in the case of Zephaniah. All this against a background of startling ignorance of poetry, even among those who should be teaching it to the nation'c children. Here's a jaw-dropping statistic dropped into the Poetry Society puffery on Radio 4 this morning: 58 percent of primary school teachers cannot name more than 2 poets. And you can bet that one of the 2 is Benjamin Zephaniah.
Hair-Shirt Complacency
One of the pleasures of being in France was - as it always is - being cut off from the 'news' and, in particular, the dreary spectacle of domestic politics. Now I am back and have fallen into my old habit of watching 'the Ten' (as BBC insiders self-importantly call the 10 O'Clock News). So it was that I caught the lugubrious 'highlights' of coffin-faced George Osborne's extraordinary 'We're all in this together' speech, the like of which we haven't heard since the days of Stafford Cripps. Is he mad? 'Cuts' are one of those things that everyone is for in principle, but only so long as it doesn't affect them personally. As soon as they start feeling a real impending lightening of the wallet, they take fright - that is why politicians are careful not to tell them the bad news until after they're in power. The Tories are, in effect, acting as if they're in power already - hair-shirt complacency rather than triumphalist complacency, but still a big mistake. Nobody ever won an election by promising hard times, and surely they never will - or has the world changed so much that we now actually want to suffer, perhaps as some kind of atonement for past excess? I doubt it, and I suspect Pa Broon is rubbing his hands together in glee as he picks the bones out of Austerity Osborne's speech. Grim-faced George managed to leave us feeling worse about everything, even the coming end of Labour rule - a remarkable achievement for a Tory politician.
Sensation - Good English Writer Wins Booker!
This is surely good news. Hilary Mantel is a seriously good writer - one of rather few practising English novelists you can say that about - and Wolf Hall sounds a fascinating book (I'm still limbering up for it - it's a Big One - maybe when it's in paperback...). This might possibly be a case of Right Author, Wrong Book - a bit of a Booker syndrome (e.g. Penelope Fitzgerald Offshore, Kingsley Amis The Old Devils). Mantel's Beyond Black - a deep dark comedy (beyond black indeed) set in the strange world of psychics in the equally strange territory outlying London (as evoked equally brilliantly in Iain Sinclair's London Orbital) - should perhaps have been a winner. But never mind, she's won - and by doing so restored some honour to the often absurd Booker Prize business.
By the way, I'd strongly recommend Hilary Mantel's memoir Giving Up The Ghost - an extraordinarily vivid, strange and honest work. And by the way again, Hilary was brought up in the Derbyshire mining village of Hadfield, which clearly inspired the setting of her early novel Fludd - and was more recently the location of The League of Gentlemen's fictional village of Royston Vasey.
The End of Summer
Around this time yesterday I was sitting beside the Seine, outside a restaurant in Caudebec-en-Caux, tucking in to a dish of excellent Moules de Bouchot. Now I am back in rainy Blighty, with work to do, and the dismal prospect of returning to the NigeCorp grind tomorrow...
The lunch was a fittingly high note on which to end to a convivial weekend of walking, eating and drinking - and the river was not the Seine of Paris, but the mighty lower Seine, wide and deep, meandering across its vast plain on its way to the sea - a formidable river. It was a few miles downriver from Caudebec, at Villequier, that Victor Hugo's young daughter Leopoldine, just 19 years old and newly married, drowned with her husband in the Seine after their rowing boat capsized. On Friday we walked the chalk cliffs that line one side of this part of the valley, and tough going it was - precarious climbs and descents on dry dusty chalk, seeking out tree roots and protruding stones for foothold, and grasping at low-hanging branches to haul the weary body up or brake it on its way down. We were rewarded, as we gulped in great lungfuls of air, mopped the brow and waited for the heart to quieten down, by magnificent wide views from the clifftops across the river and its vast plain. Later, after lunch (in Grand Andelys), came another, shorter and far easier, climb - to Chateau Gaillard, the spectacular ruin of Richard the Lionheart's castle - though even that ruin was topped later in the weekend by breath-taking Jumieges abbey). Ah France - inexhaustible... But the butterflies Nige, I hear you cry - what of the butterflies? Well, I'm happy to report that there were still some late fliers enjoying the sun when it was shining - among them the unobtrusively lovely Wall butterfly, which I hadn't seen this year, and the Clouded Yellow (that's the one at the head of this post), which I had sighted only once in the UK - from Bryan's car, at a motorway service station, of all places. I don't suppose I'll be seeing many more butterflies this year, and I know I shan't be going away again. This feels like the end of summer - but, as it's now October, that is pretty good going. And this last French trip was pretty much the perfect finale.
Reading and Reviewing and Rereading and Transparen...
Nige, who, like Mr Kenneth Horne, prefers to remain anonymous, was also a founder blogger of The Dabbler and a co-blogger on the Bryan Appleyard Thought Experiments blog. He is the sole blogger on this one, and his principal aim is to share various of life's pleasures. These tend to relate to books, art, poems, butterflies, birds, churches, music, walking, weather, drink, etc, with occasional references to the passing scene. His book, The Mother of Beauty: On the Golden Age of English Church Monuments, and Other Matters of Life and Death, is available on Amazon or direct from the author.


text:
William Belden Residence
City Island
The Bronx, N.Y. 10464
William Belden is perhaps best remembered in New York City history as one in a trio of investors—the others being Jay Gould and Jim Fisk—who artificially inflated the price of gold to the point where the stock market crashed on "Black Friday", September 24, 1869, causing thousands to lose their life savings. After years of prosecution and bad business deals, Belden was ultimately forced into bankruptcy by the late 1880s.
J.H. & C.S. Odell & Co.
New York City – Opus 172 (1879)
Mechanical key action
Pneumatic stop action
In 1879, William Belden, a millionaire banker and broker, signed a contract for a three-manual and pedal organ, costing $6,700, for his residence on City Island, which was then part of Westchester County. Two years later, Belden placed an order for a three-manual organ, Op. 190 (1881) for his Fifth Avenue residence in Manhattan.
The Fifth Avenue mansion organ was sold to the Troy (NY) Savings Bank in 1890 where it is extant in the building now known as the Troy Music Hall. In 1907, the City Island organ was moved to St. Anthony's Roman Catholic Church, Troy, N.Y.; it was later moved to Sacred Heart Roman Catholic Church in Taunton, Mass., where it was altered and enlarged by Roche to 37 ranks.
See also William Belden Residence in Manhattan.
Solo Organ (Manual I) – 61 notes
Solo Cornet (TC) (reed)
Chime of 30 Bells
Great Organ (Manual II) – 61 notes
Keraulophon
Clarionet
Dulce d'Amour
Trumpet (harmonic treble)
Prestant
Cornopean (harmonic treble)
Concert Flute
Contra Fagotto
Grand Bourdon
Pinel, Stephen L. "Organs of the OHS Fiftieth Anniversary: Troy Savings Bank Music Hall". The American Organist (Feb. 2006).

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


text:
Q: Client-side Blazor using SendAsync for a GetRequest with CORS for an API request I ran into some issues with CORS when setting up my Blazor client-side API client to make requests. I think I found the solution to that, but the solution is also throwing errors.
The main error is:
"WASM: System.Net.Http.HttpRequestException: TypeError: Failed to execute 'fetch' on 'Window': The provided value '2' is not a valid enum value of type RequestCredentials."
the code is
        string link = API_RequestLoginTokenEndPoint;

        Http.DefaultRequestHeaders.Add("User-Agent", "HttpClientFactory-Sample");
        Http.DefaultRequestHeaders.Authorization = new AuthenticationHeaderValue("Authorization", "basic:testuser:testpassword");

        var requestMessage = new HttpRequestMessage(new HttpMethod("GET"), link);

        requestMessage.Properties[WebAssemblyHttpMessageHandler.FetchArgs] = new
        {
            credentials = FetchCredentialsOption.Include
        };

        var response = await Http.SendAsync(requestMessage);
        var responseStatusCode = response.StatusCode;
        var responseBody = await response.Content.ReadAsStringAsync();

        output = responseBody + " " + responseStatusCode;

I also tried changing the request message to:
var requestMessage = new HttpRequestMessage(HttpMethod.Get, link);
In case this was the ENUM the error referred to. In the Startup ConfigureServices I tried to add:
WebAssemblyHttpMessageHandler.DefaultCredentials = FetchCredentialsOption.Include;
I am using Blazor preview 9. I also tried adding some CORS code to my PHP script on the API route that should accept all origins, but the last question I posted I was told to use this method to fix the CORS problem, which now gives me a new error.
Am I doing something wrong or am I missing something? The error in the browser usually points to the line with the async request:
var response = await Http.SendAsync(requestMessage);

A: This is a bug not yet fixed. Use this instead :
requestMessage.Properties[WebAssemblyHttpMessageHandler.FetchArgs] = new
        {
            credentials = "include"
        };

A: I had a similar issue and could not resolve the pre-flight activity.
I WAS ABLE TO SOLVE THIS BY COMMENTING OUT HTTP REDIRECTION MIDDLEWARE.
context:  Blazor client calls  asp.net.core api in different url.
Not sure if this a good solution but I felt I needed to mention this after
spending 1 week on this frustrating issue! Hope it helps someone.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


Deacons Meeting: Second Sunday of each month at 11:00 a.m.
Session: Second Thursday of each month at 7:00 p.m.
Bible Study: each Monday at 7:00 p.m.
AA meets in Fellowship House on Wednesday and Sunday evenings at 8:00 p.m.
Hiker's Dinners: Every Thursday at 6:00 p.m. June through August. Please bring a side dish or dessert.
Summer Concert Series: Every Sunday at 6:00 p.m. June through August. Click on the "News" tab to see schedule of performers.


text:
'The goal is not necessarily to sit at the table' : Resisting autocratic legalism in Hungarian academia
Politik- und Verwaltungswissenschaft
Author: Labanino, Rafael; Dobbins, Michael
Published in: Higher Education Quarterly ; 2020. - Wiley. - ISSN 0951-5224. - eISSN 1468-2273
DOI (citable link): https://dx.doi.org/10.1111/hequ.12290
The article analyses the strategies of Hungarian higher education interest organisations against the encroachments on academic freedom by Viktor Orbán's governments. We contrast the 2012-2013 and 2017-2019 protest waves and find that innovations in strategy came from new organisations in both periods, whereas established ones were rather passive or opted for the status quo. However, in the second period, new actors consciously declined to pursue wider systemic goals and aimed at building up formal organisations instead of loose, movement-like networks. The focus on keeping a unified front and interest representation on the workplace level did not change the overall outcome. Just like during the first period, the government was able to reach its goals without major concessions. Nevertheless, during the second protest wave the government was unable to divide and pacify its opponents, which stripped it of its legalistic strategy and revealed its authoritarianism.
Subject (DDC): 320 Politics
Keywords: Hungary, democratic decline, academic freedom, interest organisations
LABANINO, Rafael, Michael DOBBINS, 2020. 'The goal is not necessarily to sit at the table' : Resisting autocratic legalism in Hungarian academia. In: Higher Education Quarterly. Wiley. ISSN 0951-5224. eISSN 1468-2273. Available under: doi: 10.1111/hequ.12290
@article{Labanino2020neces-51801, title={'The goal is not necessarily to sit at the table' : Resisting autocratic legalism in Hungarian academia}, year={2020}, doi={10.1111/hequ.12290}, issn={0951-5224}, journal={Higher Education Quarterly}, author={Labanino, Rafael and Dobbins, Michael} }
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Cluster of Excellence "The Politics of Inequality"
Politics and Public Administration


Teacher Effectiveness Training: The Program Proven to Help Teachers Bring Out the Best in Students of All Ages. Aug 26, by Thomas Gordon and Noel. 12 Results Visit grassrootsalute.com's Dr. Thomas Gordon Page and shop for all Dr. Thomas Gordon books. Check out pictures, bibliography, and biography of Dr. Thomas Gordon. Parent Effectiveness Training: The Proven Program for Raising Responsible Children. Leader Effectiveness Training L.E.T.: The Proven People Skills for Today's Leaders Tomorrow. T.E.T., Teacher Effectiveness Training. Teaching Children Self-Discipline at Home and at School.
Books by Thomas Gordon (Author of Parent Effectiveness Training) Books by Thomas Gordon. Thomas Gordon (March 11, – August 26, ) was an American clinical psychologist In , Gordon wrote the Parent Effectiveness Training (P.E.T.) book which gave many more parents access to this new parenting philosophy. Gordon Training Books. Leader Effectiveness Training, L.E.T., Book. By Dr. Parent Effectiveness Training, P.E.T., Book. By Dr. Teacher Effectiveness Training, T.E.T., Book. By Dr. Be Your Best Book. By Linda Adams, M.A. Teaching Children Self Discipline – Kindle Book. Autobiography of Thomas Gordon e-Book.
Training, P.E.T., Book. By Dr. Thomas Gordon, softcover "My wife & I took the P.E.T. course & read the book when our own children were young. Now we are. Dr Thomas Gordon. Dr Thomas Gordon Is the author of books such as Leader Effectiveness Training. Dr Thomas Gordon books. Leader Effectiveness Training . Explore books by Thomas Gordon with our selection at grassrootsalute.com Click and Collect from your local Waterstones or get FREE UK delivery on orders over . 26 Jan Parent Effectiveness Training by Thomas Gordon, , available at Book Depository with free delivery worldwide. Dr. Thomas Gordon, a licensed clinical psychologist, has authored nine books, including Parent Effectiveness Training (P.E.T.) and Leader Effectiveness.
All books from Dr. Thomas Gordon. Buy online from Colibri at discounted price and qualify for free shipping. For nearly thirty years, Teacher Effectiveness Training, or the T.E.T. book, based on Dr. Thomas Gordon's groundbreaking program, has taught hundreds of. Explore our range of cheap books by Thomas Gordon. Discover FANTASTIC SAVINGS on high quality Thomas Gordon books and BUY ONLINE today!. Thomas Gordon () was a radical Whig and Commonwealthman who, along with his collaborator 3 - Gordon's Discourses II, History (Books ).
History of Thomas Gordon; Classroom Philosophy published articles, Dr. Gordon also authored 9 books including Teacher Effectiveness Training. Gordon, Thomas, , trans.: The Reign of Tiberius, Out of the First Six Annals of Tacitus, With His Account of Germany, and Life of Agricola, by Cornelius. You can now purchase Gordon Thomas publications as E-Books on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. They include a number of titles Gordon wrote with his old. 9 Dec Parent Effectiveness Training [THOMAS GORDON] Rahva Raamatust. Shipping from 24h.


This is a list of all known chain grocery addresses in the Miami Beach area between 1925 and 1972, compiled from city directories, telephone books, and other sources. It is generated through a live Google Spreadsheet so it reflects the latest information I have.
The 1931 locations of Handy Andy are missing.
In 1953, Table Supply and Margaret Ann Stores are listed as being owned by Winn & Lovett.
In 1958, Kwik Chek stores (most of them formerly branded Table Supply and Margaret Ann Stores) are listed as being owned by Winn-Dixie Stores.


Since we have decided to take the four-legged members of our family with us on our cross–Atlantic sailing journey from Stralsund, Germany to Gulf Shores, AL, we have taken every precaution to keep them safe and happy. We have an amazing veterinarian back in Gulf Shores, Dr. Nietjse Langston of Magnolia By the Gulf Animal Clinic. Not only is she an excellent doctor of veterinarian medicine, but she's also a SAILOR! This means she knows exactly what being on the open water in a sailboat is like for people and for pups. She put together a thorough first aid kit for Cap'n Jack and Scout and was gracious enough to let us film this video of her explaining every detail for keeping our canine crew safe at sea! In this video, Dr. Langston discusses the different medications that would be great to have for pets on a boat. She also gives specific examples of when to use each one. We truly believe this video would be helpful for all dog owners -- even if you are not traveling on a sailboat.


All the prices are indicative. This pack includes ski pass, workshop, lunch, ski material, insurance, etc. Contact for more information.
- This is a reservation request process.
- Please fill out the application form with the center data and booking data and we deal with your request.
- We will contact you.
(All * fields are mandatory).
(Only in case that you know the hotel).


Any day we choose, we can start over.
From sunrise to sunset, the stage is lit in preparation for us to make an appearance, however we choose to show up.
It seems so normal to be 'in the groove' with the way we've always done things. What is it that gets us in the way of taking a new direction when we're aching to do so?
Is it as simple and easy as granting ourselves permission?
Imagine you're in quick sand, not brave enough to even wriggle around to make the effort get out! Rather, best not move at all, as at least we know what to expect staying still.
There was once the 'get up and go'... Where's the 'get up and go' gone to? You know, that drive to take the action we know is required to have a different outcome. If you are asking yourself that question, then you could be ripe for preparing yourself to deviate. Deviate where to?
The herd mentality is one of being comfortable, thinking like everyone else and behaving like the masses. Why do people choose to be this way? To fit in to be accepted rather than take the bold action required to step out, rarely challenging ourselves to step up and stand apart.
Let's be real, we love being around our friends and mates. What I'm referring to though is the not thinking for ourselves mentality, being swept up in the group thinking, without a voice or a point of view.
A sense of belonging and security comes at a price, with our individuality becoming the cost.
The individuality is to make the decision to surround yourself with like-minded people sharing the vision you have for your future self, the other version of you, currently waiting for the tap on the shoulder, thus to emerge.
Some people follow the herd blindly for decades before they finally decide to take the walk down the route less travelled. Each one of us is unique with talents to offer, talents that no one else can do like we do.
Give some thought to what your unique talents are?
Being open to learning new things.
Study something in a totally new and different field.
Embarking on a new career.
Or a big move like cutting your hair off.
Discovering our uniqueness and taking the bold action – supports our purpose to boost all aspects of our life.
Imagine waking every day to a vision of a bright future for ourselves and those around us, the sounds that support this and the feeling of excitement, when you know you're excited, energised, feeling truly alive.
Taking on new challenges, learning how to do new things ignites the fire in our heart to develop the passion to pursue whatever it is.
With your focus turned on to finding a better way forward, the rewards are rich and many. Discover more about our 'Life Success Code' concept.


text:
En mathématiques, et plus particulièrement en théorie des groupes, on appelle argument de Frattini le théorème suivant : si G est un groupe, H un sous-groupe normal fini de G et P un sous-groupe de Sylow de H, alors G = H N(P) (où N(P) désigne le normalisateur de P dans G).

Démonstration

Dans les hypothèses ci-dessus (G est un groupe, H un sous-groupe normal fini de G et P un sous-groupe de Sylow de H), prouvons que G = H N(P). Soit g un élément de G. Il s'agit de prouver que g appartient à H N(P). Puisque H est supposé normal dans G, l'automorphisme intérieur x ↦ gxg de G induit un automorphisme (non forcément intérieur) de H. L'image gPg de P par cet automorphisme de H est un sous-groupe de Sylow de H du même ordre que P, donc gPg est conjugué de P dans H. Ceci signifie qu'il existe un élément h de H tel que gPg = hPh. Alors hgPgh = P, autrement dit hg ∈ N(P), d'où g ∈ H N(P), ce qui, comme nous l'avons vu, démontre le théorème.

Exemple d'utilisation

L'argument de Frattini permet par exemple de prouver que si G est un groupe fini, P un sous-groupe de Sylow de G et M un sous-groupe de G contenant N(P) (normalisateur de P dans G), alors M est son propre normalisateur dans G. (Appliquer l'argument de Frattini au groupe N(M), à son sous-groupe normal M et au sous-groupe de Sylow P de M. On trouve
.
Il est clair que , donc le second membre de (1) est égal à M, d'où .)

Généralisation

L'argument de Frattini admet la généralisation suivante, que certains auteurs appellent elle aussi argument de Frattini :

Histoire

L'argument de Frattini (sous sa forme particulière) fut énoncé et démontré par Giovanni Frattini en 1885, dans un article où il introduisait la notion de sous-groupe de Frattini.

Notes et références

Théorie des groupes

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


text:
/*****************************************************************************
  maskFastaFromBedMain.cpp

  (c) 2009 - Aaron Quinlan
  Hall Laboratory
  Department of Biochemistry and Molecular Genetics
  University of Virginia
  aaronquinlan@gmail.com

  Licenced under the GNU General Public License 2.0 license.
******************************************************************************/
#include "maskFastaFromBed.h"
#include "version.h"

using namespace std;

// define our program name
#define PROGRAM_NAME "bedtools maskfasta"

// define our parameter checking macro
#define PARAMETER_CHECK(param, paramLen, actualLen) (strncmp(argv[i], param, min(actualLen, paramLen))== 0) && (actualLen == paramLen)

// function declarations
void maskfastafrombed_help(void);

int maskfastafrombed_main(int argc, char* argv[]) {

    // our configuration variables
    bool showHelp = false;

    // input files
    string fastaInFile;
    string bedFile;

    // output files
    string fastaOutFile;

    // defaults for parameters
    bool haveFastaIn  = false;
    bool haveBed      = false;
    bool haveFastaOut = false;
    bool softMask     = false;
    char maskChar     = 'N';

    // check to see if we should print out some help
    if(argc <= 1) showHelp = true;

    for(int i = 1; i < argc; i++) {
        int parameterLength = (int)strlen(argv[i]);

        if((PARAMETER_CHECK("-h", 2, parameterLength)) ||
        (PARAMETER_CHECK("--help", 5, parameterLength))) {
            showHelp = true;
        }
    }

    if(showHelp) maskfastafrombed_help();

    // do some parsing (all of these parameters require 2 strings)
    for(int i = 1; i < argc; i++) {

        int parameterLength = (int)strlen(argv[i]);

        if(PARAMETER_CHECK("-fi", 3, parameterLength)) {
            if ((i+1) < argc) {
                haveFastaIn = true;
                fastaInFile = argv[i + 1];
                i++;
            }
        }
        else if(PARAMETER_CHECK("-fo", 3, parameterLength)) {
            if ((i+1) < argc) {
                haveFastaOut = true;
                fastaOutFile = argv[i + 1];
                i++;
            }
        }
        else if(PARAMETER_CHECK("-bed", 4, parameterLength)) {
            if ((i+1) < argc) {
                haveBed = true;
                bedFile = argv[i + 1];
                i++;
            }
        }
        else if(PARAMETER_CHECK("-soft", 5, parameterLength)) {
            softMask = true;
        }
        else if(PARAMETER_CHECK("-mc", 3, parameterLength)) {
            if ((i+1) < argc) {
                string mask = argv[i + 1];
                if (mask.size() > 1) {
                    cerr << "*****ERROR: The mask character (-mc) should be a single character.*****" << endl << endl;
                    showHelp = true;
                }
                else {
                    maskChar = mask[0];
                }
                i++;
            }
        }
        else {
            cerr << "*****ERROR: Unrecognized parameter: " << argv[i] << " *****" << endl << endl;
            showHelp = true;
        }
    }

    if (!haveFastaIn || !haveFastaOut || !haveBed) {
        showHelp = true;
    }

    if (!showHelp) {

        MaskFastaFromBed *maskFasta = new MaskFastaFromBed(fastaInFile, bedFile, fastaOutFile, softMask, maskChar);
        delete maskFasta;
    }
    else {
        maskfastafrombed_help();
    }
    return 0;
}

void maskfastafrombed_help(void) {

    cerr << "\nTool:    bedtools maskfasta (aka maskFastaFromBed)" << endl;
    cerr << "Version: " << VERSION << "\n";
    cerr << "Summary: Mask a fasta file based on feature coordinates." << endl << endl;

    cerr << "Usage:   " << PROGRAM_NAME << " [OPTIONS] -fi <fasta> -fo <fasta> -bed <bed/gff/vcf>" << endl << endl;

    cerr << "Options:" << endl;
    cerr << "\t-fi\tInput FASTA file" << endl;
    cerr << "\t-bed\tBED/GFF/VCF file of ranges to mask in -fi" << endl;
    cerr << "\t-fo\tOutput FASTA file" << endl;
    cerr << "\t-soft\tEnforce \"soft\" masking.  That is, instead of masking with Ns," << endl;
    cerr << "\t\tmask with lower-case bases." << endl;
    cerr << "\t-mc\tReplace masking character.  That is, instead of masking" << endl;
    cerr << "\t\twith Ns, use another character." << endl << endl;
    // end the program here
    exit(1);

}

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


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April 16, 2018. We worked to clean up the damage, but it soon became apparent that we need to do more. The library is working with an architect to prevent future flooding.
We have also received insurance money and will be replacing the carpeting in the children's room.
from October 3 – Oct 17, 2018.
(All books must be packed and stored temporarily so that the furniture can be moved). We apologize for the inconvenience and encourage you to visit other community libraries during our restoration.


I RELY on thinking about T's fight to motivate me…it was creating enough anger inside that running became the perfect outlet to vent all that out. Except something has changed recently. I finally came to terms with the fact that my son is different and that as much as I feared the label "special needs', the truth of the matter is, he does..(have needs that are different and specific)..and so all that anger that I had, has given way to a slightly calmer, more accepting version of myself..
Well crap…didn't I time that wrong? In all sincerity, the last 3 months have been one of the biggest roller coaster rides we have ever been on…all we could do was focus on survival…getting through it…just getting through it. But we realized something. Survival is simply what its like to be a parent.
Regardless of T being Autistic, he's still a little boy who, like many many other little boys his age, is in that stage that struggles to communicate what they want and when they can't they get frustrated. He just happens to get a bit MORE frustrated and acts out physically to compensate.
And so life has changed for the better. I now realize why Autism Speaks has the 100 day tool kit, we are almost to the day since diagnosis and this is the first "bright spot" I have seen.


The trees turn more yellow for each passing day and when we wake up the rooftops are covered in frost. I cannot believe that October is here already! As I mentioned in my previous journal entry, I've been feeling a little down here in the city.
Last week I tried to remedy that by heading out to the countryside to spend some time with my dear friend Linnea.
We spent some time at their place having coffee and tea, working with images and chatting. I opened their door a number of times and called out to their cat but he never came. Their neighbours cat did though, so I got to cuddle a little bit at least.
After that we packed our bags with some more fika and headed out to the forest. We both needed to load up on some energy from nature and for a change, I actually modelled for Linnéa since she had a few ideas for images. Her photos from the day can be see here.
It felt so great to hear the crunching of leaves under my boots, to smell the fir trees and to walk amongst the tall pines. I miss nature so so much and I need to remember to be kind to myself and give myself more time outside.
We sat on the top of a small mountain, overlooking lakes and trees in beautiful colors while enjoying our fika. Well, we did not bring anything to eat and Linnéa only brought hot water but forgot her tea haha! But we had a lovely time and after this I felt a lot better and my spirits where lifted!
Ja det var det verkligen! Vi måste göra om det med bättre fika dock ;) Haha ja, Stefan är rolig, och mysig. Han ligger ju just nu liiite mer på plus hos mig än Musse haha.
Thank you! I mostly film with my Lumix GX8 from Panasonic but some shots are filmed with my Nikon D610 as well. I just bought a gimbal but in this video it's all handheld. I've learned to film more steadily and I also stabilise a little in post :) Thanks and keep practicing!!
Men åh så fint, tack snälla! Hoppas du haft en fin höst <3 kram kram!


In 1967, the Minnesota Legislature created the Minnesota Peace Officer Training Board (MPOTB). Ten years later, the Legislature abolished the MPOTB and established the Minnesota Board of Peace Officer Standards and Training (POST). As the first law enforcement occupational licensing system in the United States, the POST Board was tasked with overseeing licensing and training requirements as well as setting standards for agencies and officers.
The POST Board was an important first step in regulating law enforcement and standardizing police training across the state. The traditional path to becoming a police officer includes earning a two-year degree in law enforcement, attending a police academy called 'SKILLS,' and passing a state licensing exam before being hired by an agency.
For over 40 years, this approach has been utilized. However, in recent years there has been a recognized need to "think outside the box" of conventional hiring and develop alternative paths to policing. There are many factors driving this change, including allowing for a broader pool of candidates with diverse backgrounds, ethnicities, and skills. A reflective workforce looks like and understands the community.
We must provide opportunities for members of our community to become police officers who could not afford to attend college for law enforcement or who sought other opportunities earlier in their lives. Programs such as "Pathways to Policing" are a good start and must be expanded to allow departments to hire exceptional people who may not have current law enforcement training. Departments can provide law enforcement training to non-traditional candidates.
This is important because the members of the Sheriff's Office are the most valuable resource available to serve the community. In a timely and thorough manner, the Sheriff's Office must hire, train, and retain the best employees. Once hired, employees must receive quality training and be developed to assume formal leadership roles. In part, this requires deliberate recruiting efforts with underrepresented communities, training in procedural justice, and individualized planning.
In 1976—one year before today's standards were put in place—the Saint Paul Civic Center was filled with 1,891 applicants taking the test to become a police office. This year 178 eligible persons applied. In the above picture, there are two future law enforcement and community leaders—Saint Paul Police Chief John Harrington and Ramsey County Sheriff Bob Fletcher. Neither of these two would be able to take the test with today's limitations.
Broaden the pool of applicants. The Sheriff's Office will seek out non-traditional officers of diverse backgrounds and ethnicities, and provide the necessary training to be officers. High professional and ethical standards will ensure the best are selected to serve.
Provide ongoing outreach and training. The Sheriff's Office is dedicated to achieving a workforce that reflects the community and engages in staff development so that tomorrow's leaders have the opportunity to come up through the ranks.


text:
Steinschrift steht für:
 Lapidarschrift, zwei Epochen der Schriftentwicklung im antiken Griechenland und Römischen Reich
 Schweizerisch für die an Schulen gelehrte handschriftliche Druckschrift


Blackfoot River Brewing Company's Belgian Wit is brewed with un-malted wheat, orange zest, coriander, and Belgian Wit ale yeast. The un-malted wheat adds a distinctively cloudy, pale yellow appearance and a uniquely creamy body. The Belgian yeast, along with the orange zest and coriander, produce a sweet, citrusy aroma. The finish is slightly dry, tart, and refreshing.
The Belgian Wit was brewed as part of our Community Partnership program with CWG Architects and Helena Industries.


text:
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Home / Blog / Environment / Environmental Conditions in Supermarkets
Environmental Conditions in Supermarkets
Have you ever wondered how you can reduce waste while grocery shopping? Make your grocery shopping more green by regarding the following facts about conditions for the environment in supermarkets.
Diet against climate change
On the areas that are necessary for the production of animal products, much more calories could be produced by growing plant-based foods: three times more than pork, milk and eggs and seven times more than in the production of beef.
The reason for the loss is caused by humans and the amounts of greenhouse gases such as carbon dioxide (CO2), methane (CH4) and laughing gas (N2O), which belong to the fuel effect.
However, these greenhouse gases are not caused solely by the use of fossil fuels (e.g. coal, natural gas and oil) or by transport. What is often neglected is that livestock farming and the production of animal prints make a significant contribution.
Worldwide, 14.5% of total human-made greenhouse gas emissions result from animal production. Fattening cattle and dairy cows are usually shut down in animal factories and are the most significant climate offenders in the sector - below that due to the high demand for feed and the emission of methane.
Compared to fruits and vegetables, much more energy is grown for the production of meat, milk, cheese and butter. If you hear more CO2 is released. The increased production of nitrous oxide and carbon dioxide is caused by the fertilization of agricultural land or the creation of mineral fertilizers and pesticides.
That is why meat is so harmful to the climate. Belonging to meat and animal products as much as possible is a contribution to more climate protection.
Contrary to the term "organic", there are no legal standards for "fair". Companies can determine what they mean by "fair". Behind the Fairtrade logo and the GEPA logo are standards that also promote organic farming: around 50% of the Fairtrade products are also certified organic and at GEPA even 75%. Conversely, many organic farming associations have social criteria in their standards; some even use their own organic fair logos.
Fairtrade generally stands for goods that are produced and traded under fair conditions and follows the principle of sustainability. It is not just about economic fairness, i.e. fair wages and fair share of producers in the proceeds. Social fairness, e.g. through acceptable working conditions and training opportunities, as well as ecological fairness - such as the renunciation of environmentally harmful production methods - also fall under the keyword Fairtrade. The organization behind Fairtrade is called TransFair.
Just because a company issues its own seal does not mean that the alarm bells ring immediately. We will show later that we can do without an independent organization using examples. But at the latest loosely circumscribing terms such as "close to nature", "unsprayed", "environmentally friendly" or "from integrated agriculture" should arouse scepticism.
Because they are often nothing more than sound and smoke. In these cases, there is usually no strict seal initiative that can control the entire value chain. Who should then ensure that the necessary regulations, which the slogans promise, are followed at every point between cultivation and trade? Exactly, nobody.
Micro Plastic and marine animals
Our wastewater brings microplastics from cosmetic, washing and cleaning products into the rivers, lakes and seas. Microfibers made of plastic, which are not filtered by washing machines and sewage treatment plants, can also be detached from plastic clothing. As part of the water cycle, microplastics penetrate the complex aquatic food webs of animals, plants and humans.
Everyone is talking about plastic - literally putting it in their mouths. Where previously mainly sea animals and seabirds were reported, which ingest plastic particles with food or get caught in plastic waste, there is now new alarming news: Researchers have proven microplastics in human stools.
On average, there were 20 microplastic particles in ten grams of stool. One speaks of microplastics when plastic particles are smaller than five millimetres - to be found, for example, in cosmetics such as peelings. Tire abrasion also creates microplastics. Study director Bettina Liebmann from the Federal Environment Agency Vienna on the stool samples: "In our laboratory, we were able to detect nine different types of plastic in sizes from 50 to 500 micrometres". These mainly include polypropylene (PP) and polyethylene terephthalate (PET).
On the one hand, microplastics get into our bodies through food and drinks packed in plastic. The leading plastic suppliers, however, are probably fish and seafood, which ingested microplastics through food during their lifetime. No wonder, since around 400 million tons of plastic are currently being produced, of which up to 5% end up in the sea.
In previous studies, the highest microplastic concentration in the stomach and intestine was found in marine animals. But the smallest plastic particles were also found in the blood, lymph and liver.
Less plastic bags
In 2014, 63% of fruit and vegetables were sold pre-packaged. For example, 500 grams of grapes in a bowl with a lid use almost eight times more plastic waste than a knot bag. There is a lot of plastic waste with tomatoes and carrots. Even plastic bottles, compared to glass bottles, cover a tremendous amount of our plastic.
It is important to avoid disposable bags as a whole - including those made of paper: the ecological balance of a paper bag is worse than that of a plastic bag. However, the paper bag degrades if it accidentally lands in nature.
Plastic bags are used for an average of 25 minutes. That means they are bought, used once and thrown away. Depending on the type of plastic, it can take between 100 and 500 years for a plastic bag to decompose if it is not recycled.
Since the environmental balance of an object is always measured by how often it is used, this is, of course, ecological madness. Because one million plastic bags are used worldwide every minute.
Why is the plastic bag so popular?
Low manufacturing costs make them cheap.
Production is also less energy-intensive and low in emissions (compared to other containers).
The plastic bag is light, tearproof and also water and chemical resistant.
It is also easy to work with, can be welded and is generally recyclable.
That speaks against the plastic bag
Every person consumes an average of around 76 plastic bags a year. 36 of them are reused, 40 are used only once.
The raw material is petroleum, which is a finite resource.
Depending on the material, a plastic bag takes centuries to rot.
The ground plastic waste enters the food chain in the sea.
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Many people ask me how I can do foster care and if God gives me peace in all these horribly difficult and emotional situations I have walked through with many children in foster care. I can honestly say that God doesn't always give me peace. But, he does give me courage. Sometimes you won't feel the peace you need before you step out in faith. What if God is waiting on you to be obedient and trust him first? I can assure you He will be the most faithful. He will bring the courage. He will strengthen you when you are weak. On our worst day as foster parents, it does not compare to what these kids have experienced and the losses they will feel for life.


Timothy Larkin Jr. comes to Cashin Tickets by way of the financial world. With an MBA in Finance from Stanford University, "The Banker" is a formal Investment Strategist that worked on Wall Street. Tim found out first hand how difficult and stressful it is to be a strategist. With a long life ahead of him and a grim economical outlook, eight years ago Tim looked towards the booming business of sports investing.
I had a good weekend with him for football and looking forward to laying heavy with his MNF pick. Good service with reliable customer support.
I watched Timothy's picks for some time after they came online. I waited until he got hot and then jumped on which really benefited me, now I have money for football!
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