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Until Next Time, My Paris
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
I realize that some readers may not realize that I have been living around the world for the last 5 years, the last year in Paris. I recently returned to New York.
My last Paris post for a while. I have moved back to New York and am writing this in a cafe, drinking un café as we speak, missing France. Peter Pan is hanging up his tights. 5 years and 4 months and 20 days ago on June 1st, 2008, I left the USA for Beijing and started down a long road that saw me living in Beijing, Tokyo, Seoul, Barcelona, London, and Paris. I am not the same person I was 5 years ago. I have evolved, mostly for the better. Thoreau, Whitman, Emerson all have amazingly true things to say about what traveling does to a person and it has definitely shaped me into a better Jason. Today I am officially back in New York, and I live, guess where, Brookyln, off the Lorimer L stop. There are too many things to say about living abroad in 6 countries for 5 years. So many adventures, triumphs, follies, and experiences. I saw the Olympics in Beijing, traveled the remote southern mountains, cruised down the Yangtze river. I went to Japanese language school in Tokyo everyday for 3.5 hrs for a year. I experienced the big earthquake first hand and fled to Korea. I was hit by a taxi and had a broken skull and woke up a day later in the hospital remembering nothing. I fell in love with Korea again. I hung out with North Korean defectors. I soaked in the Barcelona sun for a whole summer. I got the most drunk I have ever been in my life and may or may not have run with the bulls. I saw the London riots, I drank an uncountable number of pints. I learned Britishisms. I learned how to relax in Paris. I rode all the streets of Paris on my French bike. All food has been ruined for me after eating the finest cheese, bread, meat, misc French cuisine for a year. I made lifetime friends. I have a million crazy stories. I learned 5 languages enough to have basic conversations (all forgotten now, sad isn't it). When I left New York in 2008 it was still unsure if I was going to make it as an Illustrator, but here I am 5 years later having lived off the strength of Illustration. I have explored the world, I have no regrets, I went and did it all. I did it my way more or less, and because of this I have no regrets and will forever be changed for the better. Will this Peter Pan look over longingly at his green tights hanging on the wall from time to time? You bet, but it feels good to be back in New York. Thanks to all my friends and family for humoring Peter Pan all these years and letting him fly around for a while (aka thanks for the support). Just kidding New York, I'm back after that 5 year distraction. Now the question is, what's stopping you from doing what I did? If you're just tuning in you can see all of my misadventures on this here travel blog www.misadventuresofjason.blogspot.com the Best of France/conclusion and afterthoughts post will come soon.
I had this plan to photograph a bunch of cafes on these obtuse angled corners at night with my tripod and timer. Time was running out in Paris so I only had a chance to go out for one night. Only 3 out of these 8 cafes I did manage to shoot are actually on these obtuse angled triangle corners and the other 5 are on normal 90 degree corners. The obtuse corner cafes are a unique thing to Paris and look cool. This is the cafe that sparked the idea, right next to Hemmingway's old apartment, but by the time I got to shoot it they had changed their lighting from green to this. Le Descartes off of Rue Mouffetard. I never actually got the chance to go here.
Le Saint Regis on Ile Saint Louis. Touristy but good for people watching since it's at the foot of the bridge connecting the two islands.
Café Louis Phillipe. They shot gossip girl here if you care about that. I tried this place once.
Chez Julien, is not a café actually and across the street from Café Louis Phillipe. Supposed to be good but didn't get a chance to try it.
Le Conti in St Germain, I've been here a few times. This is the first thing I sketched in Paris from Le Buci, across the street.
Le Buci across the street from Le Conti. Been here a few times as well.
Bar du Maché in Saint Germain. Been here a few times, seems like a mix of tourists and Frenchies, nice people watching spot.
La Palette, the coolest of the cafés featured here in my opinion because the tourists are few and the locals and Frenchies are many and it's off a side street in St Germain that doesn't get as much foot traffic, especially tourist foot traffic.
yet another RATP ad via Publicis Conseil by the awesome Japanese Illustrator Tadahiro Usuegi
Did I post this already? I have to get so many new tubes and a new tire on my bike over the summer. Popped two in one day even.
Will always remember the summer of working and watching the Tour de France, wishing I could be out on my bike. What a summer full of friends visiting and picnics and wine and bike rides!
summer canvas and leather shoes by French brand Shmoove
pretty awesome toy car playground thing in Parc Montsouris. I must say the playgrounds in France a pretty sweet.
My one regret. This is still in Paris. The color comp and sketch is all done it was just waiting to get painted on. My bike is still there too.
brought this back and it was awesome. Their normal Chablis is awesome too
Why? The day before I leave my favorite wine store in our neighborhood tells me about their wine tastings they have every Saturday. It would be interesting to see where I would be in another year in Paris after learning more French. I'm already pretty friendly with people and they in turn are friendly with me. This is the guy's explanation of Burgundy grapes and how the grapes get better as you move up in elevation. The decent grapes are on the plains but the Grand Cru grapes are higher up. I thought Burgundy produced mainly red pinot noir grapes but the Chablis region is in Burgundy also and they make loads of white Chardonnay grapes too.
how many times have I done this in the last 5 years? This is the 7th time packing up my whole life and moving to a different country. But this time the loop is getting closed. The good ship Jason Maru is returning to port (Japanese ships always tack on a maru at the end of their ship names because maru means circle so the boat will always safely return back to port, there will be a pic of that coming up in the future from NY).
last sunday market to pick up a special Opinel folding knife. They sell them in the US for 3x the price
Awesome view of the wing, it's almost like what's the point of having this window? I'll take what I can get though. Flew Air Europa to Madrid then New York, had a 3-4 hour layover so I hopped out of their airport to meet my good pal Marco for one last time. When is the next time I'll see him? When is the next time I'll see anyone? I've already seen people from London, Paris, and Beijing. The world is a small place, and when you live in New York you're gonna see your international friends again. Now world traveling is instilled in me and I will be back to these countries again for sure. So for now, all I can say is à la prochaine, mon Paris. I'll be back (and I have to because I had to leave a bunch of my stuff there because it was going to cost 400 euros to ship it via the post office). Ok readers, I'll see you back in New York!
Posted byJason Raish at 1:36 PM
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Female • 48 weeks
Puppy ID #620839
DOB September 7, 2019
Available I'm ready today!
Color Salt & Pepper
Mom's Weight 16 - 18 lbs
Dad's Weight 14 - 16 lbs
Registry AKC
4/4 steps complete
Bonded with Mom
Old Enough
Weighs Enough
German dogs, Schnauzers come in three sizes (Giant, Standard, and Miniature) and were initially bred to catch rats and other pests outdoors. Today, Schnauzers thrive on human companionship and are extremely intelligent and naturally obedient, making them easy to train. Schnauzers are proud and independent dogs, and are loving towards their owners. They make wonderful watch dogs and are highly energetic. Read More
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subset: commoncrawl


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North Pole
North Pole, northern end of the earth's axis, lat. 90°N. It is distinguished from the north magnetic pole . U.S. explorer Robert E. Peary was long generally credited as being the first to reach (1909) the North Pole despite Frederick A. Cook 's prior claim (1908). In 1926, Richard E. Byrd and Floyd Bennett may have been the first persons to fly over the pole, but entries in Byrd's diary suggest that they may have missed the actual pole; if so, that feat would belong to Roald Amundsen . The first overland expedition to have unquestionably reached the pole arrived in 1968; it was led by American Ralph Plaisted and traveled by snowmobile. See also Arctic, the .
See F. Fleming, Ninety Degrees North: The Quest for the North Pole (2002).
The Columbia Electronic Encyclopedia, 6th ed. Copyright © 2012, Columbia University Press. All rights reserved.
See more Encyclopedia articles on: Arctic Physical Geography


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The New York Times reports an amazing discovery in the hysteria over assault weapons and puts it at the top of the article, Journalism 101-style:
One obstacle President Obama may face in proposing a new federal ban on assault weapons could lie in the use of the term "assault weapon" itself.
You see, there is an apparently lack of clarity over what constitutes an assault weapon. I hope the folks writing the Times editorials on the subject get wind of this amazing discovery. It's almost enough to make you think they don't know what they're talking about.


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All about John Edwards.
John Edwards (Democrat) Birth: June 10, 1953; Seneca, S.C. Home city: Raleigh, N.C. Family: Wife Elizabeth Anania (1977-present); children Jack (2000); Emma Claire (1998); Catharine ("Cate") (1982); Wade (1979-1996) Religion: Methodist Education: North Carolina State University, B.S., 1974; University of North Carolina, J.D., 1977 Campaign Web site: johnedwards.com Read all about him: "Four Trials" with John Auchard (2003) and "Ending Poverty in America" (2007) Career: 1981: Joined the Wade Smith Law Firm in Raleigh, N.C. 1993: Started his own law firm with partner David Kirby, concentrating on personal injury law. 1998: Received 51 percent of the vote in the general election to win a Republican incumbent's seat in the U.S. Senate. 2001: Edwards, along with John McCain, acted as chief sponsor of the Bipartisan Patient Protection Act. 2003: Formally announced his candidacy for the 2004 presidency. 2004: After dropping out of the race, Edwards named as John Kerry's vice presidential running mate on the Democratic ticket. 2005: Left the U.S. Senate when his term expired. Later became director of the Center on Poverty, Work and Opportunity at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Sources: CNN.com, VoteSmart.org


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Tigers recognized by MLB for anti-bullying program
Club receives Commissioner's Award; Coke, Prince share stories of being bullied
DETROIT -- For the Tigers, the effort to stop bullying in Michigan's schools was local, an effort to reach out to the community. For reliever Phil Coke, it was personal, having experienced bullying while growing up.
For Major League Baseball, the effort was a shining example of making a difference, earning the Tigers the annual Commissioner's Award for Philanthropic Excellence.
The Detroit Tigers Foundation, an affiliate of Ilitch Charities, will receive a $10,000 grant from MLB in honor of the award.
"I am proud of the Detroit Tigers for making such a significant commitment to addressing the issue of bullying in their home state of Michigan," Commissioner Bud Selig said in a statement. "The Tigers' efforts to educate young people and teachers about preventing and reducing bullying in schools throughout their state are remarkable, and I congratulate their entire organization for receiving this award."
The Tigers' anti-bullying efforts have been going on for a few years. The team partnered with Michigan KIDS and the Newspaper In Education programs to develop Strike Out Bullying, part of the Detroit Tigers Anti-Bullying program that provides students and educators with tools to address and manage bullying in schools. It was distributed throughout Michigan schools, reaching 90 percent of the state's counties. Since it launched in 2011, the program has reached nearly 250,000 students across Michigan.
"This award is an acknowledgement of the Tigers' steadfast commitment as a social institution," team president/general manager Dave Dombrowski said in a statement. "The prevalence of bullying in the lives of today's children is astonishing, and the resulting effect on its victims is frightening. We are especially proud to be part of the movement to prevent bullying and humbled to be recognized for our efforts."
In 2012, Coke testified about his own experiences with bullying before members of the National Task Force on Children Exposed to Violence as part of a two-day discussion in Detroit. Coke's former manager with the Yankees, Joe Torre, was a co-chair on the task force.
"There's just things that can and should be done instead of turning a blind eye to it," Coke said at the time. "Light is being shed on it, and it's for a good reason. And things that I heard, like the school shootings, it comes down to the kid having an issue because he was picked on by a group of kids, so he took matters into his hands. There's no reason for that to happen, none. That's an extreme case, but on a day-to-day basis, we can keep that kind of stuff from happening if we're just willing to pay a little more attention."
Last offseason, the Tigers devoted a stop on their annual Winter Caravan to talk to kids and parents at Royal Oak Middle School about bullying. Both Coke and Prince Fielder discussed their own personal experiences.
Coke talked about being roughed up as a freshman in high school on the wrestling team. Even the 5-foot-11, 275-pound Fielder, never a small kid among his peers in schools, had stories about how smaller kids would take their kicks and punches at him to try to knock him down to size.
"You shouldn't hold that inside. You want to make sure you get that out so it doesn't affect you and your character," Fielder said.
Other MLB clubs have also supported several anti-bullying organizations and campaigns over the years, including the "It Gets Better" project.


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Wednesday, July 22, 1959: As near as he can remember it, Robert LeRoy Miller was just sitting on the porch of his parents' home. He was 13, about to enter the seventh grade, and he'd been idling away his summer in a languid blur of marbles, neighborhood boxing matches and ill-advised crushes; all dusk-light adventure and sepia tones.
He saw a spider crawling near the porch light. Robert found a stick and began poking it. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the police car pull up, didn't see the two policemen get out, didn't hear their footsteps. It wasn't until one of them grabbed the stick from his hand that he turned around. Miller would spend the next 45 years trying to forget what happened next.
One of the officers asked him if he had a brother named Ray. "Roy," he replied. Without further explanation, the pair walked inside and woke his parents and 16-year-old brother.
"Do you want to tell them," one of the policemen asked Robert, "or do you want me to?"
"Tell them what?"
The policeman shook his head and took Robert's parents aside. His mother began sobbing. She asked her sons if they'd done anything wrong. No ma'am, they said. The police arrested the boys and placed them in the car; Ira Lee Sadler, another 13-year-old, was already in the back seat. Like the Millers, Sadler was a black teen who lived in a small, segregated neighborhood then called Green Pond--several square blocks of cheap shotgun houses sandwiched between the Montrose area and River Oaks. He'd led police to the Millers' rented home at 1013 Gross St.
Officers would later testify that the boys were immediately taken to the police station and interrogated. According to the Millers, there was a stop along the way: 1427 West Gray, an overgrown lot with a dusty shack near the back. Police ordered the boys out of the car and into the shack, which contained a desk, an air conditioner and an old icebox. An officer--neither boy remembers which--ordered Roy to get inside the icebox. He did. The Millers say the policeman told them he wanted these niggers to see the ghost of that white boy. He asked if they wanted to die in the electric chair. Dead charcoal niggers. Did they want that?
By now, Robert knew what they'd been arrested for.
Doris B. Field lives in a small, well-appointed condominium near Rice University. She's 77 but looks ageless--a Norman Rockwell portrait with a pulse, alive and well and living in southwest Houston. Silver wire-rimmed glasses, dress buttoned modestly around the neck, short gray hair, hooked nose. When she sees the female postal carrier, they hug. In conversation she's eloquent and self-deprecating, a combination that gives her speech an undercurrent of brutal honesty that you immediately like. A certain quiet dignity.
Forty-four years ago, Doris B. Field was Doris B. Bodenheimer, registered nurse, Unitarian, single mother. At age 17 she had emerged from the pine forests of East Texas reciting Latin and smoking cigarettes, determined to be the last in a long line of what she calls "illiterate rednecks" and to accrue several fewer divorces than her mother, who held some sort of record with five. The results were mixed. She graduated from nursing school in Dallas, but her first marriage, to a Navy veteran named William Bodenheimer, never quite threatened longevity. The end, three years in, involved a Christmas gift to another woman and a butcher knife. Doris left with the only happy remnants of her short marriage: Billy Bodenheimer, born in March 1947, and his sister Elaine, born 14 months later.
By 1959, the family had relocated to Houston and settled into a life of mildly undernourished happiness. They lived in a small white house (rent: $75) off West Gray. Doris worked in the maternity ward at Jefferson Davis Hospital. In January, she began dating a young research chemist named Frank Field; by that summer, they were engaged. Field's profession suited his manner: aloof and analytical. Of their mother's boyfriends, he was neither child's favorite, but no matter; Billy and Elaine had each other, and they were inseparable. They rode their bikes everywhere: the downtown library, school, parks, pools. Billy developed an interest in science. He collected bugs, he could tell you impossible details about the bones of dinosaurs, he could name planetary moons and show them to you through his telescope.
And on Monday, July 20, 1959, he disappeared.
Doris last saw him that afternoon. She hadn't gone to work; slight cold. Earlier that day, he'd been swimming at the Dunlavy Park pool, a mile and a half south; when a thunderstorm approached, Doris went to the park and told him to come home. As she left to take Elaine to a 3 p.m. violin lesson, Billy stood in the driveway waving, wearing only jeans over his swimming trunks.
When his mother and sister returned around 5 p.m., the house was empty. At about 5:45, Frank Field arrived from his job at Humble Oil, 45 minutes away in Baytown. Dinnertime was at 6. When Jack Webb of Houston's Big Brothers program came by at 7 to pick up the boy for their scheduled outing to a Houston Buffs baseball game, Billy hadn't come home, and Doris was angry. By 8, she was worried. She called the police, who told her they couldn't do anything until he'd been missing for 24 hours. She made Frank drive the neighborhood. She sent him to the Dunlavy pool and Buffalo Bayou. Nothing.
The next morning, as Doris waited by the phone, Frank took Elaine and continued searching. At some point, the pair drove past a vacant lot on a busy thoroughfare several blocks away. It had lately been used for a dirt-selling business; the kids would ride their bikes down the mounds of dirt, and Billy would catch specimens for his bug collection. Other teens played pickup football there. Near the back was a small tin shack, used as the office for the dirt business. Frank decided to search the lot. As they approached the shack, Elaine noticed Billy's red-and-white bicycle lying in the grass nearby.
Doris arrived soon afterward with her brother, Hal Baughn, and his wife. They searched the area and called Billy's name. Doris walked to a nearby cleaners to call police and tell them the bike had been found. After she left, Baughn peered through a window in the shack and noticed clothes on the floor. Frank tried the door. Unlocked. He looked inside. Billy's swimming trunks and blue jeans lay next to an old icebox refrigerator. With Baughn behind him, he walked to the refrigerator and slowly opened it.
Doris was still on the phone at the cleaners when Frank ran in. He's here, he said, and I think he's dead. Doris stumbled out of the cleaners and toward the shack. Other people's children drown; other people's children die. At that moment, she would recall years later, "I lost any remnants of a belief in an anthropomorphic God."
Forensic pathologist Joseph A. Jachimczyk, who would go on to serve 35 years as Harris County medical examiner, arrived about an hour later. He found the body of William Merrill Bodenheimer III, age 12, crumpled inside the broken icebox, naked. Based on non-bleeding cuts left by the refrigerator's shelf hooks, Jachimczyk guessed that Bodenheimer was already dead when placed inside. His first idea was that the boy had been murdered elsewhere and brought to the shack in a "clumsy attempt to simulate an accident." He removed the body and began his autopsy at noon. The results: There were bruises on the boy's arms and buttocks. There was a bite mark on his left hand. His neck was swollen and bruised. His stomach and diaphragm were ruptured; his rectum was stretched and torn. He'd been stripped, raped, suffocated and accordioned into the icebox.
Detectives scoured the neighborhood; by that evening, newspapers were reporting "promising early leads." Two weeks earlier, a 45-year-old man had picked up a 12-year-old boy and sodomized him. The man, still at large, had at least one previous attempted rape charge. A week before that, a 10-year-old girl was found in a public park, similarly raped, strangled and bitten. And between 11:15 a.m. and 2:10 p.m. on the same afternoon that Billy disappeared, a brown-haired male in his early 20s--he drove a black sedan with the bumper sticker "Made in Texas by Midgets"--had, within several blocks of the shack, attempted to lure three separate preteen girls into his car.
But the following afternoon, homicide Captain Weldon Waycott made a startling announcement: None of those leads would be pursued. Police had the murderers in custody. Five black teenagers, already under suspicion for robbing several street-corner newsboys the previous Saturday night, had signed detailed written confessions admitting responsibility for Billy's death. They were Joe Edward Smith, 17; his half-brother Ira Lee Sadler, 13; Adrian Johnson, 17; his cousin David Arthur Clemons, 15; and Charles Archer, 15. Waycott declared himself "satisfied" that the killers had been caught.
Almost immediately, police assurances appeared to give way to public confusion. Each confession told a vaguely similar story--sometime on Monday, the gang came across Billy riding his bicycle, threw him off, chased him into the shack, raped him repeatedly while the others held him down, and stuffed him into the refrigerator. But details differed significantly. One confession said it happened at 7 p.m., another at 4. One claimed they raped him three times; another 14; two of the earliest confessions mentioned nothing about rape. One had the crime lasting half an hour; another four hours. One named five assailants, another 11. Each had different boys raping, holding and stuffing. The confessions said that Billy was kicking and screaming when they placed him in the icebox, statements that contradicted Jachimczyk's determination that Billy had been "at least unconscious" when locked inside.
Other developments amplified the apparent confusion. All the boys recanted their confessions to reporters the next day, saying that they were signed after police had threatened and beat them. Each said he'd been boxing at the time of the murder. In news accounts and later legal proceedings, nearly a dozen witnesses corroborated the boxing alibi. Beverly Giesenschlag, a 23-year-old mother, came forward to say she'd heard muffled screams coming from the shack at 3:30 p.m., well before any of the confessed times. The last person to have seen Billy alive, gas station attendant John Wiley Garrett, saw him riding north toward the shack between 3 and 3:15 p.m.
Beyond the conflicting claims, concrete physical evidence seemed virtually nonexistent.
The shack itself showed no signs of struggle and contained no fingerprints, blood or hairs, except those of the victim. (The bite on the victim's hand was not imprinted; bite-mark identification did not become standard law enforcement practice until the 1970s.) On Wednesday, detectives announced the discovery of a belt buckle in Archer's bedroom that matched the description of one that, according to Clemons' confession, had been stolen from Billy. That evidence proved false when Doris Field said her son owned no such belt. When detectives suggested he might have bought it after she left that day, Field added that he'd left his wallet and money at home.
Newspapers reported that, in order to "clarify" the confessions, police took Archer, Sadler and Clemons to the murder scene to "re-enact the crime." New statements were taken. Repudiations were repudiated. Recanted repudiations were affirmed, then repudiated, revised and reaffirmed. Sadler alone gave at least three different confessions.
"I didn't care whether I lived or died," he says now. "Seriously. It didn't matter. I'd sign anything they put in front of me, say anything, fight anyone. I didn't give a damn." The circus-like atmosphere ended on Thursday, when police reported that a single human hair found in Sadler's right back pocket had "identical characteristics" to Billy's, although police equipment could not determine with certainty whether the hair belonged to the victim.
Finally, police announced that two more suspects, belatedly named by Adrian Johnson, had confessed and provided the last bit of physical evidence needed to secure indictments. The suspects: Robert LeRoy Miller and his brother Roy.
Talk to some of those who had lived in Green Pond about that era, and they'll tell you: Certain things people just knew. Like: There are towns you don't stop in. Humble, Conroe, Jasper, Cut and Shoot. ("That's what they do there. Cut and shoot niggers.") Never, ever go to Vidor. If you get a flat, you ride that flat out of town. Better yet, detour around these towns altogether. Doesn't matter if it takes all day.
Or: If you get picked up by the police, stay quiet. No matter what. Don't talk back, don't argue, don't fight. If possible, don't say anything. You could get hurt, forgotten, shot "escaping."
Willie Mae Miller did a good job with her sons. She ran a catering business and didn't abide much trouble. Green Pond was a friendly, insular community; even amid poverty and segregation, it had a scent of the idyllic. People looked out for each other, and no one had a bad thing to say about the Miller boys. They delivered newspapers, went to church, wore nice clothes, never had any scrapes. They'd run around with troublemakers, but Robert and Roy knew enough that when they found themselves in the back seat of a police car late at night, it probably wouldn't do to argue that they hadn't done anything. Not yet, anyway.
Robert had heard about the Bodenheimer case on the news. The Icebox Murder. Even by the standards of Houston, which had lately been dubbed "murder capital of the nation," it was the most shocking crime anyone could remember. Especially in Green Pond. The body had been found five blocks away, just off a busy street that kids from the Pond wandered every day. A friendly man people called Big Lee ran his dirt business out of the very shack where they found the boy.
It became even bigger news when a bunch of Robert and Roy's friends were arrested for the murder. Everyone in the Pond assumed that police had the wrong people. Some of them were bad boys, but back then that meant stealing bikes, skipping school, fighting. Nothing like this. No way. Plus that boxing match--20 or 30 people, including those boys, standing in front of the Canteen, then moving under a streetlight when it got dark. While the murder was happening. Hard to be killing someone when 30 people are watching you box, neighbors insisted. Victims of circumstance is what they were.
The Miller brothers say that, even today, certain things remain vivid. Getting to the station after midnight. Detectives questioning them together at first. We know what happened. We know you were there. Your friends told us everything. Just tell us the truth and you can see your mother. The Millers denied it all. The police separated them. They told Robert that Roy had already confessed, that he'd be sending his brother to the electric chair if he didn't talk. Down the hall, police pressed Roy: This is what happened. This is what happened. This is what happened. Young and scared, he started to panic. He began to think he heard his brother screaming for help. He still can't tell exactly when or why he signed the confession. Robert either. But by the following morning, the case had two more defendants.
Detectives later sent them to the police chemist. He stripped them and examined their penises. They were paraded in front of reporters, to whom they repudiated their confessions and denied any part in the crime. Two pairs of blue jeans, which had been taken the night before from the Millers' laundry room, were brought in and examined.
The police had found several blood stains on a leg of Robert's jeans and a spot of human waste on the front of Roy's. They were put under arrest for the rape and murder of William Merrill Bodenheimer. They would be tried in juvenile court, and their clothes would be used as evidence in capital murder cases against Smith and Johnson, the only two suspects who could be tried as adults under Texas law.
The mail to Doris Field came slowly at first. Condolences and well-wishers, mostly. A few days later, volume increased and sentiment changed: The niggers will get what's coming to them. We'll make sure of it. One friend promised to get a bat and kill "every one" he saw. By mid-August it got to the point that Field wrote a letter to the Houston Post: "Since my son's death I have been largely sustained by the sincere sympathy of the whole community," she wrote, "but the attitude on the part of some has alarmed me. As long as we foster the sickness of the slums and segregation we shall all be infected by it. This is not to say that I am convinced of the guilt of current suspects, but merely that the anger directed against them would be put to better use if turned toward those conditions which breed crime." After the letter was printed, it got really bad. Bundles and bundles of the stuff. Now she would get what was coming to her, too. She said that, finally, she stopped opening the mail altogether.
Frank Briscoe can tell you all about it. Just mention the name "Bodenheimer," and, sitting comfortably in his Fort Bend County home, he'll start talking. Briscoe has been called many things--genius, troglodyte, wizard, even racist--but in 1959, the word was prodigy. He was, at age 33, already a nine-year veteran of the Harris County District Attorney's Office, the first assistant district attorney and first in line for most big criminal cases. He graduated from high school at 16, spent six years shuttling between college and the Marine Corps and finished law school at the ripe age of 24.
Briscoe was a certain stripe of antebellum Southern conservative that had not yet begun its long, slow lumber toward obsolescence, and like those of so many other Southern politicians, his early career was defined to some extent by his position on race. As district attorney, he ordered the prosecution of the freedom riders and, in a 1961 speech to a Houston engineers' association, he blamed "disinterested [sic] white juries" for not handing out more death penalties to blacks who murdered blacks. In 1966, he ran for Congress against George H.W. Bush, whom he derided as a hopeless liberal who was too busy courting the black vote to notice that Texas congressmen were all voting against civil rights legislation. (Bush won easily with 58 percent of the vote.) A final campaign loss, in the 1977 race for mayor, prompted his observation that "either Houston's too liberal or I'm too conservative."
Neither was much of a problem in September 1959. The first trial in the Icebox Murder--front-page news for two months now and the most racially charged case yet to cross his desk--would be his last capital case before stepping down to campaign for his boss' seat.
The evidence against Adrian Johnson was generally considered the weakest of any defendant--the alibi, no direct physical evidence linking him to the scene or to Bodenheimer, no eyewitnesses and no motive. Briscoe hinted during jury selection at some surprise physical evidence, but it was clear that the prosecution's case would hinge on the confession. "Ira Lee told the boy to bend over and the boy did bend over and Joe took his dick out and spit on it and jugged it into the boy's ass. The boy was just standing there and no one was holding him. I mean Ira Lee was in front of him holding him with a head lock and the boy was begging him not to do that. Joe jugged him for about three minutes and then I did the same thing to the boy for about three minutes but I didn't get but about a third of my dick in and I didn't shoot off in him." If Briscoe could sit this defendant in front of a jury and make its members listen to these one and a half pages, the confession would be where the shoe pinched.
The prosecution's story was simple. On his way home from swimming at Dunlavy Park, at around 6:15, Bodenheimer came across the seven black teenagers "fatally bent on mischief." One of them said "let's molesterate him," and they chased Billy into a nearby shack, raped and suffocated him, then put him in the icebox. The defendant confessed, and we have his confession right here.
Briscoe painted a vivid picture of the crime scene. Photos, autopsy results, maps. Frank Field and Hal Baughn testified about finding the body. Local merchants testified about having seen various defendants in the vicinity at various times that day.
When officer J.W. Kindred took the stand to testify about the interrogation of Johnson, Briscoe turned to the judge with state's Exhibit 16: the confession. Defense attorney Bernard Golding objected lamely that it was "evidence of offenses not mentioned in the indictment" and "inflammatory and prejudicial." State District Judge Edmund B. Duggan quickly overruled him. And that was it. Briscoe reduced a "usually buzzing courtroom" to shocked silence as he read the confession sentence by sentence.
As physical evidence, the prosecution offered the hair in Sadler's pocket, the spots of blood on Robert Miller's pants and the "fecal material" on Roy Miller's. Later questioning revealed that the blood on the pants was type O--Miller's own--and that police had simply taken two pairs of jeans from the Millers' home, giving no clear indication of when they'd been worn.
The surprise evidence mentioned before the trial: photographs that showed a "discoloration or bruise" on the penises of Johnson, Smith and Robert Miller. Johnson claimed he'd had that discolored spot since he was a boy. Inexplicably, Golding declined to call an independent medical witness, opting instead to have Johnson drop his pants in front of the jury. The spot was there. Briscoe then had the police chemist, who was not a doctor, re-examine Johnson and testify that this was a different mark, and that remnants of the original bruise remained. The defense never contested this testimony.
Indeed, Golding's struggle for justice could be best described as puzzling. According to available court records, he never mentioned other strong leads abandoned by police. He contested nothing about the physical evidence--its haphazard gathering, its circumstantial link to Bodenheimer, its failure to provide direct proof against Johnson. When Captain Waycott admitted that he found "some prints," but none of Johnson's, in the shack, Golding never asked whose. He never pressed the basic fact that these boys could be seen in the area almost any day--their families lived there; they worked and played there. He never mentioned that the other confessions (including one from Archer, a suspect who was deaf and had a speech impediment) contradicted each other.
His seven alibi witnesses often appeared confused and inarticulate. He had Johnson confess to the newsboy robberies, for which the defendant was not on trial. He badgered a crying woman on the stand--a defense witness, no less. Golding essentially wagered his client's life on a single gambit: convincing the jury that the confession had been coerced through police brutality. Proving the argument entailed two huge risks: placing a defendant on the stand and pitting the word of one 17-year-old against that of more than a dozen law enforcement officials. Both would backfire.
The tense defendant testified that he spent the afternoon of the murder playing dominoes, eating cinnamon rolls and sitting with friends. Between 5:30 and 6 he walked to the canteen, borrowed some gloves and boxed until 10:30. (Various defense witnesses would corroborate these claims, though the exact time frame remained vague.) The following night at 1:30 a.m., six policemen showed up at the house of Johnson's "play-uncle" to arrest him for the newsboy robberies.
His testimony of what happened next:
HPD officers A.C. Hopper and LeRoy Mouser took Johnson briefly to the station, then made him get on the floorboard as they drove to a deserted roadside. Tell us about the shack. You don't know nothing about no shack? Get out of the car, nigger. You're going to tell us what we want to hear. Johnson got out. Mouser grabbed his arm. Hopper beat him in the head and chest. He fell. They kicked him in the testicles. Hopper aimed a shotgun point-blank at his temple. I ought to kill this nigger black son of a bitch right here. No. Don't. The boy's gonna come through. He's gonna tell us the truth. Right? Now get up and stand in front of the car.
They drove at him, he said. He jumped on the hood to avoid getting hit. Get your ass off my car. I don't want your blood on it. Hopper got out and hit him with the butt end of the shotgun. Now then. If you sign a statement, we can end this. You can see your mother and a lawyer. He told them he would sign.
Hopper and Mouser took him back to the police station. They placed him in a room with officers Kindred and H.C. Mackey. Kindred started typing and asking questions. Where do you work? What's your phone number? You don't sign, we're going on another ride. Killing will be too good for you, boy. We'll hook you up to a coil and electrocute your dick. When did you quit school? What are some of your friends' names? Kindred typed and typed. At 6:30 a.m., the statement was placed before Johnson. He signed without reading it.
Johnson ended this testimony with a forceful protest. He had never seen Bodenheimer, never been in the shack, never raped or killed anyone.
The jury and gallery listened to the story as they would have any other fairy tale, then watched Briscoe launch his response. Every officer involved testified that no such beating and no such threats had occurred. We don't do things like that in Houston, Texas. Hopper and Mouser vigorously denied Johnson's account. Briscoe mocked the defendant: "Did they beat you first and then bring you coffee, or did they bring you coffee and then beat you?" Photos of a naked Johnson, purportedly taken the day after his arrest, showed no bruises or swelling. Briscoe established the time of arrest at 2:30 a.m. and that newspaper reporters had seen him at the station by 3. (Johnson set the time at 1:30; later, two policemen would testify that the arrest had in fact occurred then.)
Duggan, who had replaced Briscoe's uncle on the bench, was known for the latitude he'd give the state. He refused to allow into evidence certain facts that might have bolstered defense claims of coercion--for example, police had removed Johnson from his county jail cell seven times in August, including one 14-hour period on August 15, during which police reportedly tried to extract yet another confession from him.
Finally, Briscoe asked the defendant if he'd ever "molested anyone else." Johnson said no. During rebuttal, the prosecutor introduced a surprise witness: Johnnie Routte, Johnson's "play-uncle." Routte was a 39-year-old bachelor whose house was a common destination for young black males. He gave them gifts like gold teeth, let them skip school and drink and smoke and watch TV.
Briscoe asked Routte point-blank if he'd ever had anal sex with Johnson. "I couldn't answer that," the witness replied before defense attorneys thundered the obvious objection--Johnson was being accused of a crime for which he wasn't on trial. Duggan instructed the jury to disregard the question, but he allowed in Routte's signed statement that he was a homosexual and he and Johnson had engaged in anal sex on several occasions. It cemented Briscoe's case: Here was a man seen in the area, who confessed to the crime, who has a bruise on his penis, who has a bunch of friends with blood and hairs on them, who has committed sodomy before and just lied about it on the stand. "If children are going to be secure as they ride down the streets on their bicycles, you are going to have to return the death penalty," he told the jury. "Do this thing."
Despite Briscoe's bluster, jurors were left to consider a case with significant holes--holes often ignored by Golding. For example: Johnson's confession contained supposed facts--"he was screaming when we put him in"--disproved by the prosecution's own evidence. Or: In addition to the seven defendants, the confession vividly described the actions of four other boys (Billy Joe Bufferin and brothers Johnnie, Clarence and Clyde Robbins) who were never arrested, tried or charged, and thus the confession further constituted some sort of fiction. "Billy Joe couldn't get anything but the head of his dick in so he just quit. Johnnie was next and he got his dick in the boy and jugged him about three minutes and then said he didn't shoot off either."
Or further, in order to find Adrian Johnson guilty, jurors would need to believe that at some time around rush hour on a Monday afternoon, on a busy street, in a segregated city, at least two hours before dark, that no one would notice seven black teenagers knock a white boy off his bicycle, chase him across the street, through a vacant lot and into a shack. That seven teenagers could gang-rape a 12-year-old boy between three and 14 times in a small (8-by-10 feet) shack without leaving any blood, hairs, fingerprints or signs of struggle. That all of the witnesses who saw Johnson boxing at the purported time of the murder were lying. That Beverly Giesenschlag, who heard screams coming from the shack at around 3:30 p.m., was also lying or mistaken. That--disregarding claims of physical abuse--the continually revised confessions, the repeated parading of suspects around the murder scene and unexplained absences from jail did not constitute a pattern of coercion. That any physical evidence on Sadler, Clemons and Archer could be considered admissible, since by the officers' own admission, they had been taken to the scene before the refrigerator and other tainted items had been removed. In sum, that one of the most ultimately improbable explanations of Bodenheimer's death was in fact the correct one.
A jury of 12 white men, considering that same evidence, took four and a half hours to determine that Johnson was guilty of murder with malice and sentence him to death.
He was executed on April 19, 1962.
An hour before his death, he told a reporter, "I had no participation in this crime whatsoever."
In his final moments he knelt beside the electric chair. "I want to pray," he said, giving blessings to his mother. Then he offered his last words: "I pray that this will be the last time something like this will happen."
Late summer 1980: East 33rd Street in Independence Heights. Robert Miller, 36, stepped out of his car, covered in dust from a day of laying Sheetrock. He'd been doing it pretty much since he got out. He tried other things; the day he got home, he took the bus downtown, got his registration card and went to an employment office to get a job. The woman looked at his card. "Robert Miller, Robert Miller," she said. "Oh, yeah." He knew what that meant.
In an interview, he recalled that when he finally landed the gig as a Sheetrock man--some family friends owned the company--he'd long since resolved never to talk about the incident. People knew, but he wouldn't talk about it. Except when he'd get attached to a particular lady. Then he'd get to that moment. I've got something to tell you. He felt she deserved that much--to hear it, and to hear it from him. After the mess, the whole long, ugly, sad, stammering mess, came pouring out of him, he'd look up, expectantly. No one ever walked out.
Tonight he'd be talking about it again, but for different reasons. Joe Edward Smith was out of prison. Everybody was stopping by his mother's place to welcome him home.
Smith was the last of them. He'd gone to trial in April 1960, by which time everybody else was locked up. Sadler, already on parole (for theft) from the Gatesville School for Boys outside Waco, was returned there without a trial. He remained at Mountain View, Gatesville's maximum-security subsidiary and an institution of predictably medieval grimness, until his 21st birthday. A juvenile court convicted David Arthur Clemons and Charles Archer of sodomy in November 1959. Clemons was sent to Gatesville; Archer ended up at the Rusk State Hospital for the mentally ill. The same court convicted Robert and Roy on sodomy charges in December 1959. Robert was sentenced to an indefinite term at Mountain View; he, too, got out when he became 21. Roy was at Gatesville until he turned 17 on January 12, 1960, when the district attorney's office arrested him to be tried as an adult for the murder. He was convicted, sentenced to 15 years and released in 1971.
With five co-defendants found guilty and the shocking particulars beginning to fade, Smith's week-long trial in April received only cursory news coverage. His attorney, Ed Winfree, mounted a more spirited defense than Golding. He extensively cross-examined Frank Field. He wondered why pathologist Jachimczyk--who had originally guessed that the body had been brought to the scene after the murder--had changed his story. He objected to any testimony pertaining to the other boys. He had defense witnesses testify that they had been intimidated by the district attorney's office. But in the end, none of it mattered. After five days in court, Smith was sentenced to die.
Johnson's appeals, all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, had failed; but Smith got stay after stay. He recalls going to bed countless times thinking he'd be dead the next day, but he was never executed. (A torture, he would later say, almost worse than death.) He languished on death row until the 1972 Supreme Court decision that temporarily abolished the death penalty. His sentence commuted to life, he remained in prison until 1980, when he somehow managed to get paroled.
Now, tonight, Robert would be seeing him for the first time. He drove to Smith's house in the Acres Homes section of north Houston. The whole family was there. David Arthur had died of bone cancer several years earlier, and Adrian had been executed. No one knew where Charles was. But Roy and Ira Lee both came.
"It was strange," Robert says. "We'd last been together when we were kids. The last time Joe saw me I was 13 years old, an average young kid. But it was different now. We were hard."
Footsteps. She was conscious, vaguely, of approaching footsteps. Just outside her window, maybe. She opened her eyes and looked around. Right: Houston. She was back in Houston. London to New Jersey to Manhattan, and now back in Houston. Morning. She was alone.
The footsteps paused. Just outside her window. A gate creaked. The footsteps and the gate and the creak ended in a crash. Somehow the sound of that gate closing was, without a doubt, the loudest crash she'd heard. Somehow, if she were the kind of person to describe anything as the loudest crash ever, she would have found this an appropriate time to do so, but she wouldn't say something like that.
And then she got out of bed and realized that 29 years had passed since her son's death.
Doris had, simply, never quite recovered. "There was a numbness," she says now. She had refused to attend the trials, except when required to testify. Her testimony was willfully emotionless; tears would mean defeat. Later, she had brief communions with the murder. In 1964, she sent a letter to the board of pardons, asking that Joe Edward Smith's life be spared; capital punishment, she wrote, is an immoral form of collective revenge. She saved the certified mail stubs. Proof that something, however small, could be done so that her son's murder might not be, as she wrote, "so very meaningless." She never received a reply.
Mostly, though, she retreated. Frank came and went. They had married in October 1959. She pinpoints the beginning of the end, with some precision, as the day she says she stabbed him through the heart with a knitting needle. New Jersey, August, 1970: A hot Sunday. They were sitting on the back porch drinking sherry and arguing about Vietnam. Her political discussions with Frank tended to end poorly. He had an extensive vocabulary and a Ph.D. She'd never been to college, was insecure about her own intelligence. During this particular argument, he wouldn't look up from his paper, told her dismissively that she didn't know what she was talking about. She rose angrily, went inside, slammed and locked the door. Frank began knocking. She gave him the finger. She said he punched through the glass and unlocked the door. She ran into another room and saw a pair of No. 1 knitting needles. Lately she'd been knitting clothes for her grandchild. (Who, at this point, had not yet been conceived. Elaine was not even married. But regardless--she'd been knitting.) She grabbed the needles, about the length of an ice pick, and ran to the stairs.
Frank approached. She swung. The needle in her left hand went through his chest and punctured his right aorta. He fell, pulled off his shirt and passed out. She called an ambulance and returned to beg that he please not die. The ambulance arrived and wheeled him out. Massive internal bleeding. Neighbors came to see what had happened. "Well," Doris told them.
Long story short: He lived, forgave her unconditionally, no charges were brought, and she "felt so damn guilty" that she stayed with him another five years. When she finally left, the anger and sadness became more just flat-out fear. She was scared. Fifty years old and never had lived completely on her own. She'd spend the morning looking forward to lunch, which was after all basically the early afternoon, which was itself very close to the early evening, which would be time for the first glass of wine. Then she'd drink until she passed out. Ten years it went on.
Finally that very real crash. In the end, it was only a gate closing. But somehow that crash became the thing that told her it's time. Why that particular gate or that particular morning or that particular moment, no one could really say. She went to a noon AA meeting, and here she is now, 16 years later. The grief still comes, still seems as raw as when it first happened, but she copes differently. Her social life revolves around the church. Unitarian, still. She tried some other things. Zen meditation. Detective stories. Sitting in her apartment among her books and Shakespearean plays and classical LPs, sipping tea, there's a quiet calmness about her. Yet one cannot entirely shake the feeling that true serenity will visit her again only once.
A recent February morning. Robert LeRoy Miller sits in the living room of his mother's house. It's before noon. Robert, soft-spoken and friendly, looks tired. Tall and gaunt and a little bit gray. He still lives here. Roy, too. They have kids, families, ex-wives, but they always end up back at home. Willie Mae cooks fried chicken in the kitchen.
Everybody from Green Pond is dead, dying, or on crack. The neighborhood itself is gone. A few houses off Dallas and Clay still stand, awaiting encroachment from nearby urban-renewal condo projects. But no one from the old neighborhood lives there anymore. Smith died 11 months after his welcome-home party in 1980. Twenty years on death row, then he gets out, falls out of a tree doing some yard work and breaks his neck. Sadler has been in and out of jail for selling crack. Archer lives in a subsidized apartment in far east Houston. He can't communicate clearly and invariably tells visitors to call his mother, who died last year. Roy does Sheetrock, hasn't seen a hint of trouble since he got out. Robert works every now and then. Drywall, still. Most days he's around the neighborhood, looking for a game of dominoes, talking to the guys, having a drink. A few years ago he was shooting dice and drinking and got picked up for crack.
The Icebox Murder, for a time considered Houston's most infamous race crime, has been forgotten, erased from public consciousness. Briscoe, semi-retired after recent stints as a Fort Bend County prosecutor and assistant state attorney general, still considers it an open-and-shut case--they confessed; they had bruises on their penises. "No wiggle room." So do the police officers, those still alive. Arresting officer A.C. Hopper, now retired from the FBI, denies the abuse allegations with the same vehemence he did 45 years ago.
"I wouldn't even honor the thing," he says. "That's ridiculous. All the officers from that far back are dead; I'm one of the only ones left, and my memory is about as long as yesterday." Hopper says some officers in some departments "might pull that, but I was not one of them. Officers get blamed for [brutality] all the time, but it's just a bunch of crap."
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As for Robert and Roy and Ira Lee, they haven't stopped protesting their innocence since the ink dried on those confessions.
"The Houston Police Department cleaned its books on some little black kids," Robert says. "That's all it was. Tuesday I'll be 57. That was 44 years ago. I could admit it now, if I did it. But I'll go to my grave telling the truth: I didn't."
You like to think the truth will be someone's version of simple. Racist cops pin murders on troubled black kids. Angry black communities blame police for their own crimes. Every prisoner professes innocence; every prosecutor is sure he has the right man.
And maybe it was. Simple. But somewhere between the dueling fictions of history sit Doris B. Field and Robert LeRoy Miller, alone, never quite able to imagine a past before the sweeping sense of loss, and never quite able to fashion a present that provides comfort from memory.


text:
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For our June event we will have dealers specialising in fine jewellery, silver, ceramics and paintings amongst other items. With over 140 stands, the mix is truly eclectic. There's always a diverse array of decorative and ancient pieces, making it a totally unique event in the centre of London, minutes from Tate Britain and Westminster Cathedral. Popular with the antiques trade, it's a real insiders' secret.


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Here at Rockefeller Plaza, there's a whole lot of options when it comes to food. But those of you with an eager sweet tooth have the best opportunity to satiate your palette--chocolate is everywhere! And even in the midst of a very mild winter, there's nothing like a good cup of hot chocolate, especially with these in-house experts.
La Maison Du Chocolat's "Caracas Hot Chocolate": This cup was slightly dry and pleasantly bitter, like a great bite of dark chocolate. The warmer temperature and roasted aroma makes this the perfect addition to the usual 2 o'clock coffee break.
U.S. & World
Godiva's "Hot Milk Chocolate": These chocolatiers have managed to sum up a whole box of their luscious chocolatey morsels and put it in a to-go cup. Rich and smooth; if you swear by Godiva, this is the cup for you.
Jacques Torres's "Wicked Frozen Hot Chocolate": This is a perfect hot chocolate for a not-so-cold winter day. And don't worry, with this slushy you won't miss the heat. Their Wicked flavor is packed with a punch, seasoned with allspice, cinnamon, ground ancho chili peppers, and smoked chipotle chili peppers! It's not overpowering, just straight up delicious fun!
Bouchon Bakery's "Hot Chocolate": There is nothing more to say about this sip than, "Oh my word, that's chocolate cake!" Leave it to a bakery to make juice from cake.
Copyright LXTVN - LXTV


text: Tech 425 3,923 Report post Posted January 25, 2018 How to install Windows 10 on a Mac Even Apple fans occasionally long for live tiles and the ability to play Minesweeper. To help, we've put together this simple walkthrough on how to install Windows 10 on a Mac. Sometimes, you just need Windows. It's not something that Apple would like to admit, and for the most part MacOS has done an admirable job of keeping up with its less stylish and more utilitarian cousin, but sometimes you just need access to a computer that runs Windows 10. Thankfully, as Apple used to say, "there's an app for that." Apple's custom-tailored solution is called Boot Camp, and it's the easiest way to get Windows on your Mac without resorting to dark rituals and eldritch sorcery. So here's how to install Windows 10 on a Mac with minimal fuss and danger! Apple Boot Camp Support: https://support.apple.com/en-us/HT204990 Step 1: Confirm your Mac's requirements Before getting started, make sure your Mac has the available disk space and hardware necessary to handle the Windows install via Boot Camp. Make sure all the latest updates are completed before you begin! First, the install requires an Intel-based Mac computer and an empty external USB drive capable of holding up to 16GB of data. You can connect the hard drive when preparing if it is not already connected. Second, the Mac you intend to use for the install needs to have at least 55GB of free disk space on the startup drive. Most Mac devices from 2012 and later will work, but you will need much more recent versions of devices like the MacBook (2015). Apple provides a handy system requirements list for various Mac models which details the version of Boot Camp your system requires to complete a Windows install. Apple's System Requirements List: http://support.apple.com/en-us/HT204048 Step 2: Acquire a copy of Windows Luckily, acquiring Windows 10 has never been easier. Just head over to the Windows Store. You'll have options here, first you can choose to purchase a digital copy, which you'll need to download (and then download this tool to create a Windows 10 disk image), or you can purchase a Windows 10 flash drive which Microsoft will ship to you. If given an option, always choose the ISO file, which should be available for download even if you bought a physical version of Windows 10: The flash drive option tends to be time-consuming and unnecessary, and should only be used if you have compatibility issues with a download. [CP Upload] Windows 10 & Windows 7 OEM (ISO) http://www.cyberphoenix.org/forum/topic/575655-cp-upload-windows-10-windows-7-oem-iso/ MS ISO Download Tool Step 3: Open Boot Camp https://s18.postimg.org/sl88yxfzd/image.jpg Now that you've got an install drive of your desired Windows operating system, it's time to open the MacOS Boot Camp Assistant. To do this, simply select the Utilities folder from your Mac's application list and open Boot Camp Assistant. Once the program opens, an introductory screen offers information on the application and also suggests creating a backup of your data before continuing with the Windows install — we highly recommend doing this. Click Continue to advance to the next screen. Make sure both installation options are checked as seen above. At this point, Boot Camp Assistant copies your desired Windows operating system installation files from either an .ISO file, or a physical disc, onto the plugged in USB drive. Here, depending on your setup you will probably need that connected external hard drive we mentioned. Simply choose the location of the .ISO file and its intended destination (the USB drive) and click Continue. The next screen should say Copying Windows files… and may take a while to complete; be patient even if it looks like the progress bar freezes. Once the next window opens, Boot Camp Assistant gives you the option to choose where to save the Windows drivers and installs support software files. Follow the on-screen instructions and make sure you have an Internet connection, selecting Continue when prompted. You may need to connect empty external USB storage, depending on how the downloads progress and where you choose to download the Windows files. The process of downloading the drivers could take quite a while to complete, so stay patient! Step 4: Create a partition for Windows After the drivers complete installing, the next step is to create a partition for the new Windows installation. By default, Boot Camp Assistant assigns just 55GB of space for the Windows partition, which is enough to complete the installation but hardly anything else. To increase the GB limit for the Windows partition, simply slide the bar between the MacOS partition and the Windows partition until it assigns the desired amount of space. Once you finish this, click Install to complete the partition process. Step 5: Install Windows With the partition completed, Boot Camp Assistant now asks you to begin installing the Windows operating system. After following a few on-screen prompts the installer asks which partition you wish to install the Windows operating system on. Simply select the partition labeled BOOTCAMP and choose Format. Continue to follow the install wizard's commands and Windows should complete installing in around 30 minutes. When ready, head over to Startup Disk preferences (you can search for it using Spotlight or find it in System Preferences). Choose the startup disk housing Windows 10 so that from now on your Mac will start in Windows. Restart your computer entirely, and it should open onto the Windows screen. Touch Bar Support on Windows If you're installing Windows on a brand-new MacBook Pro with Touch Bar, worry not, you'll still be able to get some functionality out of your OLED touch pad when running Windows. Once you boot into Windows your Touch Bar will retain some functionality, but not exactly the full range available in MacOS. The Touch Bar will still have support for all of your MacBook's basic controls – brightness, volume, play and pause – and at the touch of a button it can switch over to a standard row of F keys. It's also worth noting many features may not work correctly while using the Windows partition. Apple supports Windows 10 but you'll still notice a difference in performance. MacBook hardware is made for MacOS, so it doesn't always get along with Windows 10, in particular your trackpad might be a little less responsive, and some Apple-specific hardware will cease to function entirely – like the TouchID sensor on the power button. 3 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites


text:
I just got off of lunch here at the office and happen to see this in my blue tracker.
For those of you who can't read it at work or school here it is copied for you
From Eyonix:
We are making a change to these spells so that their benefits are exclusive in patch 3.1.0. The buffs will be equivalent, but will no longer stack. Mana Spring will affect the entire raid instead of just the shaman's party. We felt that both paladins and shamans brought too many unique buffs to a group. Additionally, we have been trying to tone down mana regeneration in large groups, and were concerned raids would feel the need to stack paladins or especially shaman to have enough Mana Spring totems. We have also been trying to get more benefits out of the party and into the raid, and Mana Spring previously was still a party only buff. With this change, if there is only one paladin, he or she can bring Blessing of Kings while the shaman offers Mana Spring. If there are two paladins and the second offers Blessing of Wisdom, then the shaman can offer healing or cleansing with their water totem instead.
What does this mean? It means you can't have both. They are essentially removing another source of mana regeneration from raids. As you can imagine there is a large outcry among both Shamans and Paladins. From the shaman stand point I'm a little upset to be honest, I'm also waiting for the other shoe to drop. The comment about Shamans bringing too many unique buffs to the raid made me scoff a bit. Strength of Earth totem which combines STR and AGI buffs gets overridden by a Death Knights horn of winter, often times leading to that being used for Stone Skin which is negligible benefit to the raid at best. Flame Tongue totem gets over ridden by Demonic Pact if you have a demo warlock in the group, and the other flame choices are Frost Resist or doing dps. Which if you're healing, you arent in range for that most of the time anyways, and taking the time to stop healing run in and drop a magma totem is normally not a good idea. You guys see where I'm going with this.
Here were some suggestions of what we can do with the slot instead, and ultimately what our totems can add to a raid.
Healing Stream Totem. It's group only, and still has to be in range. If you're healing, more then likely you're going to be with the casters in the back, not taking damage. While it does have places where it can be nice, it's largely wasted in my opinion.
Cleansing Totem. Great for fights where you need to purge Diseases and Poison, but wasted and useless any other time. With curses being more prevalent then Disease and Poison that's another totem we'll see situational use out of.
Wrath of Air. Yes we still offer 5% spell haste. Yes that is good, but it is also redundant. Currently two other classes also offer haste. Retribution Paladins and Balance Druids.
Blizzard is trying to simplify raids, and I can appreciate what they are trying to do… to a point. A Lot of people think they are trying to make fights harder by nerfing mana regeneration, posts like this just add weight to that argument. Homogenize every class, and then what do you have left? I posted in my last post that one of the best things about playing a Shaman was the uniqueness of our class, and totems were right up there in that list. Slowly it seems like it's being whittled away. Streamline don't make obsolete!
Redundancy is good in a raid, but at what cost?
I'll update this as time permits today and as updates are brought to my attention.
What are your thoughts?
Ok, so now that my initial shock has worn off and I've had my cup of coffee and a chance to sit and think about it in more depth, I'm not overly concerned any longer, in fact I'm quite ok with it now. This is just another in the series of small tweaks to get everything on a level playing field. The impact to the raid shouldn't be that big, if anything more raids will see a boost from this then any sort of detrimental outcome.
I think my biggest reaction was just it seemed like a change out of left field, I don't think anyone saw that coming. I am curious however as to what else will change in the coming weeks. Shamans have their Heroism / Bloodlust shifted slightly to keep it as a "Shotgun" buff and now the Mana Spring totem has been adjusted just a little bit. Lets see what else they tweak.


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*February 28 - March 5
|SABBATH AFTERNOON February 28
Read for This Week's Study:
|John 13:1-30, chapter 17.
Memory Text:
|" 'I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you' " (John 13:15, NIV).
Key Thought:
|Instead of becoming self-absorbed as He approaches His great humiliation,
Jesus, in
13-17, expresses His loving concern for His disciples.
True greatness is to follow Jesus in the path of service and humility. For many, greatness consists in the accumulation of wealth, fame, and power. To such, the opportunity to "wash feet" represents the ultimate humiliation. Jesus here does the opposite of what seems natural to human experience.
With chapter 13 the entire tone of the Gospel of John is transformed. Instead of public ministry, Jesus retires to an unspecified place to quietly instruct His disciples at great length.
This lesson and the next cover John 13-17, the portion of the Gospel that deals with the "upper-room experience." Because of space limitations, we will deviate from the order of the Gospel here. In this lesson we highlight the common elements of chapters 13 and 17, where Jesus' concern for His disciples is expressed in the foot washing (John 13) and in a marvelous prayer (John 17). In the next lesson, we cover chapters 14-16, where Jesus' concern for His disciples is expressed in the gracious provision of the Comforter.
*Study this week's lesson to prepare for Sabbath, March 6.
February 29
The Foot Washing (John 13:1-11).
Read John 13:1-11 and then in your own words write down what you think this account means and why the Holy Spirit directs John to include it in his Gospel. Focus on what you believe is the key message to us here.
It was the custom in New Testament times for people to bathe themselves before attending a feast. Upon arrival, they would not need to bathe again; they needed to have only their feet washed. The washing of the feet, then, was like a ceremony that preceded entry into the house where they were to be guests. In this case, however, something so much greater was going on.
Read John 13:10-12. What does the text reveal? Why does Jesus, nevertheless, wash the feet of Judas? How does that act, in its own way, symbolize what foot washing is all about?
The full-body bath represents the complete cleansing that a person receives at the beginning of the Christian life (baptism). Foot washing, on the other hand, represents the Christian's ongoing need to deal with the soiling that comes from daily contact with the sinful world and its contamination. The foot is the part of the body that in ancient times came in regular contact with the earth and, therefore, needed continual cleansing.
The beautiful lesson that comes through in Jesus' action is that our daily shortcomings as Christians do not call our original cleansing into question. It is not necessary to be rebaptized or to start all over every time we make a mistake. One who has bathed needs only to wash the feet again! We are secure as long as we do not choose to turn away (see also John 10:27-29).
The image of Jesus washing the feet of His disciples represents His forgiveness of sins committed after baptism. The image of the disciples washing one another's feet signifies our willingness to forgive those daily irritations and transgressions that threaten the unity in love that Jesus purposed for His disciples (see also John 13:34, 35).
|What does it mean to "wash feet" in the context of everyday life? How can we be willing to "wash" one another's feet? What does it take to be able to do that?
March 1
True Greatness (John 13:12-17).
What is Jesus' further purpose in washing the feet of the disciples? John 13:12-17.
True greatness is the King of the universe walking over to the corner of a room, picking up a towel and a basin of water, and stooping down to wash the feet of an unstable disciple such as Peter and a traitor such as Judas. True greatness does not need to brag or assert itself. It takes true greatness to exercise self-control or to act the role of a slave. It takes true greatness to do the right thing when everyone laughs at you or despises you in his or her heart.
True greatness is to have the same attitude as Jesus (Phil. 2:5), who was "in very nature God" (vs. 6, NIV) yet took "the very nature of a servant" (vs. 7) and "humbled himself" (vs. 8). True greatness is to "consider others better than yourselves" (vs. 3). True greatness is to follow Jesus in the path of service and humility.
In contrast, if our first thought in any situation is of our own advantage and self-interest, we are pursuing a false greatness. If our first reaction to any situation is to nag, belittle, criticize, and complain, we are exhibiting the opposite of humility and true greatness. Putting other people down says "I am better than you." Considering others as better than yourself causes you to uplift, encourage, and praise.
How can we develop true greatness? How can we learn to love a life of service? John 13:12-17, 15:4-8, 2 Cor 3:18.
|Does the way your local church practices foot washing capture the spirit of Jesus' command? If not, how can you change that situation? Does your local church carry out Jesus' example in its relationships with people inside and outside the church body? How can the foot-washing service become a more meaningful part of our Christian experience?
March 2
Judas: The Other Path to "Greatness" (John 13:18-30).
purpose does Jesus have in predicting His betrayal? In what way does the
principle shown here work all through prophecy?
13:18, 19.
does the knowledge of His coming betrayal affect Jesus?
13:21-26. Why should it have hurt Him so much? What do these texts tell
us about God's feeling toward even the worst sinners?
"The disciples knew nothing of the purpose of Judas. Jesus alone could read his secret. Yet He did not expose him. Jesus hungered for his soul. He felt for him such a burden as for Jerusalem when he wept over the doomed city. His heart was crying, How can I give thee up?"Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages, p. 645.
But Judas chose to follow a different path to "greatness" than that exhibited by Christ in the foot-washing service. On this particular point he considered himself wiser than Christ. Surely it was obvious to anyone that greatness came from power, wealth, and the esteem of others! But his logical course of action led only to personal destruction.
"The prospect of having a high place in the new kingdom had led Judas to espouse the cause of Christ. .
"It was he who set on foot the project to take Christ by force and make Him king....
"[He hoped to secure] the first position, next to Christ, in the new kingdom."Pages 718-721.
Judas failed to realize that anybody can act great or demand to be treated as great. Anybody can spend money or command others, given the opportunity. It takes true greatness to act the part of a servant and do tasks that others should have done. It takes true greatness to put others first, to treat others as better than yourself.
|Is the typical view of greatness in today's world more like that of Jesus or Judas? How can one best present the message of Jesus to people who are used to a different kind of greatness?
March 3
Jesus Prays for His Disciples (John 17:1-19).
Read carefully John 17:1-19, focusing on the question: For whom does Jesus pray here, and why?
The farewell gathering of Jesus and His disciples (John 13-17) draws to a close with an intercessory prayer in three parts. In John 17:1-5 Jesus prays for Himself. In verses 6 to 19 His attention turns to His disciples and to their need for support in the absence of His physical presence (the third part we'll look at tomorrow).
The initial goal of Jesus' prayer is for help in completing the task of glorifying the Father on earth (vss. 1-5). This task will be accomplished on the cross. There never has been a clearer picture of the character of God than that exhibited by Jesus in His humiliation and death. But Jesus prays for strength to complete this task, not to benefit Himself or His Father only but for the sake of all who will believe in Him. When Jesus and His Father are glorified on the cross, eternal life becomes available to those in relationship with Jesus (vss. 2, 3). So, even in His prayers for Himself, Jesus' ultimate goal is the glory of His Father and the benefit of others.
Jesus then focuses His prayer directly in behalf of His disciples, who soon will have to learn how to live without His physical presence among them. He does not pray for the world but only for those who have renounced the world (vs. 9). He prays for His disciples, because they will have to remain in the world when He goes away, and they will become the object of the world's evil attention. As in chapter 13, Jesus' coming humiliation does not draw out concern for Himself; rather, it directs His attention to the consequences of His "going away" for His disciples.
Read verse 14. What does it mean to be" 'not of this world' "? In what ways should we, as Christians who are in this world, be "'not of this world'"? How could we know whether we are or are not?
March 4
"But for Them Also Which Shall Believe" (John 17:20-26).
Whom else does Jesus pray for in John 17? John 17:20.
What does He pray will be the common experience of both the disciples and the second generation of Christians? John 17:21-24.
In the last part of Jesus' prayer, He turns to the second generation of Christians. In the fullest sense, this second generation includes all Christians who have never had an encounter with Jesus in the flesh.
When the love that Jesus prays for produces unity in the church, the world will come to know that Jesus is truly the One who represents the character of the Father on earth (see also John 13:34, 35). On the other hand, the world never will be seriously attracted to Christ through the instrumentality of a church that is bitterly divided.
In Jesus' prayer we catch a glimpse of one reason prayers do not get answered. Every provision has been made for the church's unity. But the evident disunity of the church in general shows that even Jesus' prayers can be frustrated by the stubborn and self-serving human spirit. There are many things God would long to do for the church if only His people were willing to allow Him to do them.
Another remarkable thing about this chapter is the idea of Jesus praying for His disciples and for us. With all the power Jesus displayed in the course of His ministry on earth, He still saw great value in praying for others. Prayer for others accomplishes things in this world that never would happen otherwise.
For most Christians, however, prayer for others can be an up-and-down experience. So, it helps to have a regular time set aside for prayer. It also can be helpful to make a prayer list, as long as the list is not so long that it becomes unmanageable. But most important of all, it helps to have some kind of accountability in the prayer life, a prayer partner or a prayer group that encourages one to keep on when the going gets tough.
Look carefully at John 17:26. Jesus prayed that the love the Father had for Him would be in us, we who claim to follow Jesus. What is that love? Would it not be the most perfect love possible? How, then, can we manifest that love in our lives? Is perhaps the lack of unity among Christians one manifestation of this lack of love?
March 5
Further Study:
|Read some of the great "farewell speeches" of the Bible outside the Gospel
of John
47:29-49:33; the whole book of
23, 24;
Chronicles 28, 29;
Tim. 3:1-4:8). What are the common elements in all these discourses?
To what degree does Jesus in John 13-17 conform to a common literary pattern?
In what ways does He deviate from earlier examples? If you were to give a
farewell discourse to your family and friends that was based on the biblical
model, what would you say?
In John 17 Jesus talks about "glorifying" His Father and being glorified Himself (vss. 1, 4, 5). This concept of glory is a central theme in the Gospel of John (John 1:14; 2:11; 7:18; 8:50; 12:23, 24; 14:13; 15:8; 17:10; 21:19; in some texts translators may substitute words such as honor). It is also a significant component of the first angel's message in Revelation (Rev. 14:6, 7). What do these texts imply about the word glory? How does the reading of these texts impact your life? How can we "glorify God" in our lives today?
Discussion Questions:
| What kind of unity was Jesus praying for? Is it possible
to have unity of faith without unity of doctrine or belief? How wide a difference
in belief can there be before disunity appears?
Why is knowing Jesus the key to eternal life? When Jesus talks about eternal life in John 17:3, is He thinking in terms of quality of life now, or is He thinking only of heaven?
Read carefully John 17:17. What is Jesus saying there that shows how crucial the Bible is to our spiritual life?
|The key point of this lesson is that true greatness is not found in power, wealth, or fame; it is found in following Jesus along the path of service and humility. Jesus demonstrated this path when, in full awareness of the Cross He was about to experience, He nevertheless was more concerned for the impact of the coming events on His disciples than He was for Himself. In washing the feet of His disciples and in praying for them, as well as for us, Jesus did the opposite of what comes naturally to the human spirit. In so doing, He set for us an example of true greatness.
|I N S I D E Story
|Life-Saving Change
by NARANTESETSEG and RAVDANDORG
Ravdan: Like most of the people in Mongolia, we had no meaningful religion. We felt hopeless and did not know where to turn for help in our lives. We thought that education, money, possessions, and a good name were all there were in life. Nothing seemed to bring us happiness.
Nara: One day while on a train to another city, I met two young women, Jolly and Orna. We talked, and the women invited me to visit their little church in Darhan. I had not been to a Christian church before and was not even sure there was a God. But I decided to go, just to see. After all, it couldn't hurt to try God. Besides, I hoped that they would help us with food and other things, as some churches do.
I visited the church a few times and felt God's presence there. Ravdan did not mind that I went and took the children, but he warned me to be careful of strange new religions.
Ravdan: Then the church leader came to visit us and talk to me about God. He did not tell me what they thought, just what the Bible says. His visit helped me understand what my wife and children were learning in church. But I did not attend the church until months later.
Then Nara invited me to evangelistic meetings the church was holding. I wanted a better life; I was not happy with the way we were living. So when I saw that the church was helping my wife and children, I decided to try it, too. God opened our eyes, and I learned the truth. We all went together, and by the end of the meetings, we decided to let God be the head of our home. We were baptized.
God has taken our sad, hopeless life and given us a peaceful life, full of love for others. We never dreamed that God would change our lives so dramatically, that we would become Christians and would share our new faith with others. It is not easy to get people to listen to what God has to tell us, but we can let them see the change God has made in our lives, and we pray that they will want a better life too. Now we have our own small group that meets in a room we rent.
NARANTSETSEG and RAVDANDORG live in Darhan, Mongolia.
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