text:
March 14th. Ridiculous Fishing. Be There.
submitted by Rami on maart 5, 2013 |
#radicalfishing #ridic
In the meanwhile, maybe play some Radical Fishing?
In the meanwhile, maybe play some Radical Fishing?
If you've been paying attention, you probably followed the development of Wasteland Kings during our participation in the annual Mojam. We're extremely proud of the $450.000 raised for charity during the whole event and just as grateful for all your support, the nice comments in the chat and your enthusiasm for the game.
However, Wasteland Kings was not all we were working on: while Jan Willem and Paul were jamming away on Wasteland Kings, Rami, Zach and Greg wrapped up something else over in New York: we submitted Ridiculous Fishing to Apple.
This was a long time coming.
On December 7th, 2010, we started on the iOS version of our debut game Radical Fishing. Things started when Brandon Boyer introduced New York City-based conceptual artist and developer Zach Gage to our little Flash game. Brandon put us in touch and with us being big fans of Zach's lose/lose and Zach being a big fan of Radical Fishing, we decided to work together on iRadical Fishing.
Within the next two months, the three of us got in touch with Greg Wohlwend, back then best known as the artist for Solipskier. He was instantly sold on the project and quickly added to the roster. We finally reached out to Super Crate Box musician Eirik Suhrke to work with us on the project as well. We had an amazing team and our output was far above expectations. This was a project we couldn't stop being excited about.
Greg immediately sent us the above image: he had come up with an amazing art style based on 45 degree angles. Eirik sent us some amazingly fitting audio mockups. Zach was coding, Jan Willem was spending time on the Serious Sam: The Random Encounter project while designing Ridiculous Fishing and I was working on Serious Sam: The Random Encounter and the usual Vlambeer stuff. Within weeks, the game was fully playable and we were halfway before we knew it.
Obviously, things were perfect like that until six months into the project. The same Brandon Boyer that put us in touch with Zach Gage notified us of a clone of Radical Fishing, and it was going to launch on iOS before we would be ready to launch. We argued, we discussed and we negotiated – but ultimately it turned out the cloners never intended to yield: they admitted to 'being inspired' by our game and launched their game to great success. With that, our motivation and progress suffered a blow we didn't recover from for far longer that we are comfortable admitting.
Progress on the game was slow for months, all of us being demotivated from working on it. We would've killed the project right then and there if it wasn't for the enormous outpouring of support from fans and press alike. Still, opening the project files would just remind us of the critical and financial reception of the clone – and reminded us that when we'd launch, people would just see Ridiculous Fishing as a clone of the clone. We worked on different projects; Zach launched the absurdly succesful Spelltower, Greg worked on Gasketball and Hundreds, Eirik launched Spelunky and we worked on whatever wasn't Ridiculous Fishing.
There was a small boost in morale when the game was unexpectedly nominated for the Independent Games Festival in early 2012, but even that couldn't persuade us to work on the game. We had all gained a lot of new responsibilities with our new releases and painfully struggling through the accursed development of a game that'd be received as a clone wasn't something we had time for.
We almost killed the project, but we couldn't give up on it either. So it lingered and lingered in the back of our head. We spoke about the dangers of cloning at conferences, we gave interviews to newspapers and television. Ridiculous Fishing wasn't moving forward, but it was always there. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Ridiculous Fishing nearly ended Vlambeer.
The ball started rolling again after PAX Prime 2012. Zach, Greg, Greg's MikenGreg partner Mike and I spent a week in a car driving from Seattle to New York to try and revive the game at Zach's apartment in New York. Over the course of the week we stayed in Manhattan, the three of us managed to push the game forward just a tiny bit.
That turned out to be enough to slowly snowball into serious progress. A few weeks after our stay in Manhattan – or almost five weeks ago – Greg traveled from his place in Chicago to move in with Zach for as long as we needed to finish the game. Jan Willem and I set aside our work on LUFTRAUSERS to make sure no momentum was lost on the project again. Eirik set aside all of his work to make sure the game sounds perfect. Suddenly everything fell into place.
Two weeks ago, Zach and Greg declared the work on their end was done. Jan Willem slaved away for two full time weeks checking up on final progress tweaks, Eirik worked on additional sound effects. Then, during my recent stay in New York City, Zach and I found ourselves staring at the App Store submission screen: a screen we thought we might never see.
So, this is it. No more talking about clones: Ridiculous Fishing is something we're too proud of to be discussing its value in terms of another game. It's time to focus on what we made: Ridiculous Fishing has been submitted. We'll be back with more news as soon as Apple approves the game.
We're well into the new year and we've been working like crazy on getting two games done. Obviously, we had originally planned to release LUFTRAUSERS at the tail of last year and then start this year with Ridiculous Fishing somewhere in the first few months of the year. We're going to vaguely announce that the plans have shifted a bit after a certain large company (that we have worked with before) has been talking to us to maybe try and bring LUFTRAUSERS to at least one handheld and one console device if that means anything to you all.
Vaguely because first of all, we're still negotiating with them so we don't know whether it's going to happen. Second of all, because if it will happen, we still need to develop it for those platforms. Either way, we think it's great that we're talking as we love those people, plus it gives us even more time to polish the game.
Obviously, though, we're sorry to say that that means that it is likely that LUFTRAUSERS is shifting back a month or two. Not only do we need to support these new platforms in the code, we also need to make sure they pass the certification processes. LUFTRAUSERS would be best launched on all platforms at once, as far as we're concerned, so that means we have to push back the release just a bit. We're now thinking it shouldn't take too long – so hopefully something like early spring, but as always – it's done when we're happy with it. Next time we'll announce something regarding dates, it'll hopefully be set in stone and ready to go.
As for Ridiculous Fishing, progress on that has been amazing the last two weeks. It's been a painful ride, but after a year of being depressed about it, we finally found motivation to finish the project – things have just been coming together at the a breakneck pace. Greg Wohlwend – the artist on the project – has basically moved in with Zach Gage, the programmer, while they finish up development. The two of us here have been fixing up the final design and release issues. It's amazing how much momentum the project has regained – and how much fun we're having making the game again. We'll be honest, there were times at which we felt dropping the game might be a better solution than pushing ourselves to work on it any further, but we're glad we didn't do that. We're extremely happy with how the game has turned out and can't wait to show you a bit more. Not just yet, but soon.
Basically, what we're trying to say is that we think Ridiculous Fishing is going to move in front of LUFTRAUSERS in terms of release, but both of them should be out before three more months.
Also important, the games will be playable at several events around the world. We're going definitely going to be at PAX East, although you'll be able to catch one or both of us at a bunch of events including Subotron Vienna, PAX East and IndieCade East. We should consider having some sort of calendar for events we're visiting, so you know where you can tap our shoulder to play some in-progress games.
In the meanwhile, check out our brand-new store and maybe grab the digital or physical Vlambeer OST to get some exclusive sneak peeks at the LUFTRAUSERS and Ridiculous Fishing soundtracks, or catch one of the few remaining Super Crate Box Limited Edition crates.
It is now 2013, and we hope you've all saved NEO TOKYO from the forces of destruction by hostile forces. As #2013yearofspace has now officially started, we need to get some things done before we can focus on the wonders of space ourselves.
You might have noticed we've started with offering merchandise a while ago – and we did that for two reasons. One of the reasons for that is that we just really like having physical things that we can touch. The other reason is that we often get the question whether people can donate to us, but we really prefer giving something in return for money. So, today we're launching the Vlambeer Store – which isn't really a store but more like a collection of direct links to things that allow you to throw money our way if you like our games. Of course, if you don't like our games but just really want that die-cut CD with KOZILEK and Phlogiston-tunes, that's completely OK too. Just hit the giant button in the header of the site to head over to the store.
Late last year we started the LUFTRAUSERS closed beta, asking fellow developers, designers and some friends in the press to let us know what they think of the game. We're happy to say that we're extremely excited about the response we've been getting and we're reaching the point where we feel the game is almost done and ready for aspiring LUFTRAUSER pilots around the world.
So, that's where we're at after a full week in 2013. We fully intend to start the year strong with two games you might've been waiting for, and we hope you'll be along for the ride this year, too.
Grab Techno King here for Windows PC (the Mac version is somewhat rushedly ported, but we made sure there's a Mac build too!)
Happy new year from the two of us at Vlambeer!
Rami & JW


text:
Oh we all fondly remember the 25,000 point Skymall deal from last December. We all, refreshingly I might add, found out just how great Skymall customer service was and is. From price match to help on getting points posted, their folks were there for us and made sure we were happy when all was said and done.
But that begs the question, do we reward this by continuing to check them out now and then and not missing out on deals? What am I going on about? We should keep in mind they can still give you 5x Delta points for starting at their Delta shopping link: www.skymall.com/delta
Now I know that the prices at Skymall are just about always higher than any other place on the planet. But, do we remember their outstanding price match guarantee?
They will match just about any of the "majors" out there. Let's just take one item for example. Say you want to buy this Garmin Nuvi 50LM from Skymall HERE. Now if we go to Best Buy we see it much much cheaper HERE.
So just buy it at Skymall and submit a claim ASAP to email@example.com and then include " Price Match" and your Order Number in the Subject Line and you are all set.
If you pay with your DELTA AMEX card you get 5x for starting at the Delta link and another 1x for the purchase from AMEX. You get the item at the same price you would at Best Buy and earn a bunch of Skymiles.
I also know their inventory is not massive. There will be few chances where you can take advantage of this deal. But why not take just 2 or 3 seconds and check if the item you are about to buy is ALSO for sale at Skymall for some bonus Skymiles to get you to that reward ticket you are saving for! – René
Join the 1000+ Delta Points daily e-mail subscribers
© Delta Points, a BoardingArea Blog
Posted Sep 4 2012 8:44AM
Guidelines: You share in the USA TODAY community, so please keep your comments smart and civil. Don't attack other readers personally, and keep your language decent. Use the "X" button in the top right corner of each comment to report abuse. Read more

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Every Single Day
Item #: 73D-10156
Lucy Kaplansky
Written On The Back Of His Hand, Crazy Dreams, Every Single Day, Don't Mind Me, Broken Things, Guilty As Sin, Nowhere, No More Excuses, Song For Molly, You're Still Standing There, The Angels Rejoiced Last NightBackordered
Wait! What does Backordered mean?
Click here for info!
Click here for info!


text:
1a. One-sided: Different or opposing views are either ignored, misrepresented, under-represented, or denigrated. 1b. Many sided: Issues examined from many points of view; opposition fairly represented.
1. We only represent evidence. In the same way a science class is not going to teach you about how the aztec gods sacrificed themselves to create humanity or the stork theory, science isn't going to accept anything that is not grounded in demonstrable proof. Not all points of view are equal.
2a. Uses generalizations, "allness" statements, and lack of specific references and data. 2b. Uses qualifiers: Statements supported with specific references and data.
2. Generalisations are for the lay public. You clearly cannot understand what we say so we are forced to use generalisations to help you understand. Because you don't have the necessary education to understand in much the same way that a theoretical physicist would have to generalise things for me to understand.
3a. Card Stacking: Data carefully selected – even distorted – to present only the best or worse possible case. Language used to conceal. 3b. Balanced: Presents samples from a wide range of available data on the subject. Language used to reveal.
3. We actually have to compare worst case outcomes and state those. We also have to use our rationale in using a middle figure between best and worst figures and we do post all our stats and have to ensure they are available.
4a. Misleading use of statistics. 4b. Statistical references qualified with respect to size, duration, criteria, controls, source and subsidizer.
4. Actually it's because anti-vax simply do not understand stats. There is a 100% decrease in the amount of smallpox cases from 1985 to now because we made it extinct by vaccination. Prior to the 1970s roughly 2 to 3 million people would die from it across the globe and prior to european vaccination schemes roughly a million people would die from it in Europe alone. The earliest mass vaccination scheme for smallpox was actually seen during the American War for Independance where the americans adopted smallpox vaccination while the british did not. The deaths were spectacularly different from smallpox. (It was balanced out. The british rum and lime rashion ensured they never got scurvy.)
And medical statistics are famous for their use of controls, duration, sizes of research and sources use have to be heavily documentated as plagiarism is treated as a serious crime in medicine. It's career suicide to plagiarise someone's work particularly in the world of the internet. And I assume subsidiser means sponsors? Plenty of research is government sponsored.
5a. Herding: Ignores distinctions and subtle differences. Attempts to bring together superficially similar elements together. Reasons by analogy. 5b. Discrimination: Points out differences and subtle distinctions. Use analogies carefully, pointing out differences and non-applicability.
5. We actually realise that most people are basically the same internally. No matter how special a flower you think you are, your bowels still function like everyone else and your faecal samples still smell and are filled with bacteria just like everyone else.. There are few exceptions and we recognise those better than the alt med quacks. The Alt. Med however recognise non existent differences which is completely bonkers. We may as well determine which people are sanguine and which people are choleric.
6a. False Dilemma (either/or): Only two solutions to the problem or two ways of viewing the issue – the "right way" (writer or speaker's way) and the "wrong way" (any other way). 6b. Alternatives: There are many ways of solving a problem or viewing an issue.
6. There are multiple ways to solve a problem. There is however the most effective way and lesser effective ones. The problem is that the alt. medicine way is practically as useless as a chocolate teapot made with poisoned chocolate.
7a. Appeals to Authority: Statements by selected authority figures used to clinch an argument. "Only the expert knows" approach. 7b. Appeals to reason: Statements by authority figures and concerned parties used to stimulate thought and discussion. "Experts seldom agree".
7. Doctors treating people is not an appeal to authority in the same way that licensing a car driver is not an appeal to authority. A doctor is someone trained and tested in treating patients while a car driver is someone who is trained and tested in driving cars. They are both licensed for a reason. In addition you wouldn't hire a non qualified person to wire your electricity, you wouldn't hire some guy on the street to represent you in a court of law and last I heard NASA and the LHC aren't given to asking lay people to make decisions for them. I mean, I wouldn't give you my car to repair. I would give it to a qualified mechanic. I know I am not qualified to repair the damn thing. I know the mechanic is. It's not an appeal to the mystical authority of the mechanic. It's an acceptance that mechanics have knowledge that I do not, and know how to apply that knowledge. I could learn if taught but I have better things to do with my life.
And not every "expert" is a good one. There are plenty of "experts" who think laetrile is good for treating cancer. Doesn't make them right! It makes them dangerously stupid.
8a. Appeals to consensus or bandwagon approach: "Everybody's doing it so it must be right". 8b. Appeals to fact: Facts selected from broad data base. Logical, ethical, aesthetic and psycho-spiritual aspects considered.
8. Medicine has made incredible stances on really bad practices ranging from installation of sewages to construction of clean drinking water. The original cholera epidemics were combatted by doctors. The father of epidemiology was a doctor with a wrench who would steal pump handles in cholera striken areas to stop the sprea
d. Added to which our stance on exercise and healthy eating is well known even if you don't chose to recognise it. No proper sane doctor has recommended eating burgers or pies. We accept that those things are delicious so we say "Make it a treat" because life is to short to go without burger and pie. Similarily our drives to get healtheir eating habits for children at schools and to stamp out smoking and to decrease the amount of salt people consume are all well known.
And the application of the words Logical and Ethical to alternative medicine is frankly oxymoronic while aesthetic and psycho spiritual healthcare is just plain moronic.
9a. Appeals to emotions and emotional responses: Uses words and pictures with strong emotional connotations. 9b. Appeals to people's capacity for thoughtful, reasoned responses: Uses emotionally neutral words and illustrations.
9. The Autism MMR campaign is the textbook defintion of this. And medical textbooks look at suffering objectively. It is testament to the fact that anti-vax have never read a medical document in their lives. If you think we use charged and emotional language in medical literature then you must be a vulcan. An illogical vulcan.
But that's the catch 22, if we use charged language your response is "See they are appealing to your fear and compassion. How dare they!" and if we treat it objectively your response is "How can you soulless automatons treat human beings like that? Don't you feel anything inside! You logical bastards!".
10a. Labeling: Uses labels and derogatory language to describe proponents of opposing viewpoint. 10b. Avoids labels and derogatory language: Addresses the argument, not the people supporting a particular viewpoint.
10. The individual who prompted me to write this is clearly extremely smart and a wonderful person which is why she is incapable of understanding the most basic of science and math, fails at reading and comprehension, and is actively delusional to the point of being a textbook case of it. To top it off she actively deny the deaths of millions of people across the world to diseases and are actively part of the group of people whose ideology helped spread the disease going so far as to support the work of the South African president Mbeki who was responsible for the infamous Salad Bar at a HIV and AIDS conference and is responsible for nearly 3 million extra HIV cases due to his policies which caused an increase in rate as he pulled money from functional HIV programs and retroviral therapy to put money into vitamins and "healthy eating". Clearly she is a role model for all time. Quick! Let's take down statues of Albert Schweizer and put up statues of her! Oh wait, she is clearly a moron of the highest order and an all around opposing force to human development and progress. It's a statement of fact. I don't have to respect idiots. If you came out and stated that NASA shouldn't be allowed to fly rockets lest it punch a hole in the tapestry on which the stars are held up we would call you a fucking moron. Same rules apply here.
11a. Promotes attitudes of attack and/or defense with the aim of selling a position or product. 11b. Promotes attitudes of openness and inquiry. Aim is to discover.
11. This point doesn't even make any sense. We attack and defend our position because it's not a game to faff around with. It's actually people's lives. Alt. Med are parasites feeding off the fears of real medicine portraying their bullshit as harmless. Either treating healthy people as if they were sick or convincing healthy people that they must use supplements that are often extremely expensive while charging them for water and things that simply do not work while encouraging them to ignore things that do work with horrific consequences. And lest we forget that Alt. Med do not work for free and charge (often quite steeply) for their consultations.
12a. Ignores assumptions and built-in biases. 12b. Explores assumptions and built-in biases.
12. We don't make assumptions. They are confusing educated guess with assumption. If you have a painless lesion and peripheral neuropathy with systemic infection signs, but with no viable culture, I can use my knowledge of disease to infer that it is leprosy because it fits the hallmark of symptoms and M. Leprae cannot be cultured in vitro. We can culture it on mice feet but you know what? It's simpler to start the treatment and poke around 10,000 fields (yeah that's right… 10,000 microscope fields) for Acid Fast bacteria from the exudate of the lesion. And we actually are phenomenally good at identifying bias. It's why we keep hamstringing the frankly criminally stupid posts of the anti-medicine luddites. We can clearly identify bias, we clearly understand your motivations for lying and we clearly point it out. We are completely unforgiving to other people's research. We don't accept research without hardcore evidence and often repeat research.
13a. Language promotes lack of awareness and unconsciousness. 13b. Language usage promotes greater awareness and consciousness.
13. What does that even mean? I shall assume it means the language is difficult and confusing to them.
It's very very simple. Offside! Now this word means a lot to the average european or the average african or the average south and central american. To the average USAmerican? Fuck All. Do you know what travelling is? No? The average american does. A googly or a doosra? Or Reverse Swing? Most brits will not, american simply would think I am having a stroke, but ask an Indian or a Pakistani and they will go into immense detail about such cricket terms. Now why do these terms exist? Because they describe things that occur in a specific context and allows people withing that context to communicate. The same rules apply to car mechanics who know names of parts of machines that I do not and to people who understand things like quarks and indeed to medics. It's because you are uneducated in medicine that you do not understand the language and terminology. It's there for us to communicate specifically with other doctors across the globe using the same notions and terminology about things. It's not there for obfuscation purposes since we actually explain terminology online and are willing to explain it.
A lot of the terminology you see is infact pharmaceutical short hand which stops errors from occurring. It's just short hand to ensure we can write a lot of information in a single line of note paper so that pharmacists can read it easily. 300 mg. Paracetemol. Stat means patient can take 300 mg of paracetemol when the fever requires it. If we wanted to obfuscate we would actually use the old medical terminology in Latin or not tell people our secret language on the bloody internet. A lot of the names we use are descriptive. I mean Bone tumour is just cancer to you but there are different types of bone tumours ranging from benign to malignant. Osteoma, Osteosarcoma, Giant Cell tumour, Haemangioma, Neurofibroma, Multiple Myeloma, Osteochondroma… And many more. Each are different and each have different prognosis and outcomes. An osteoma is awkward and painfu
l. An osteosarcoma is practically a death sentence if it's not caught early since it metastasises easily.
14a. Can lead to tunnel vision and bigotry. 14b. Can lead to breadth of vision and understanding.
14. Most medical practitioners are extremely broadly based. And many are insanely talented at many other things. And the medical profession are some of the least bigotted people on earth. I think you mean bigotted against bullshit. As I said, empirically prove your nonsense. We will give you a million dollars. Because not one person has been able to prove in a moderated and unbiased test that their nonsensical quackery actually works. In the words of Tim Minchin.
Science adjusts it's beliefs based on what's observed
Faith is the denial of observation so that Belief can be preserved.
If you show me
That, say, homeopathy works,
Then I will change my mind
I'll spin on a fucking dime
I'll be embarrassed as hell,
But I will run through the streets yelling
It's a miracle! Take physics and bin it!
Water has memory!
And while it's memory of a long lost drop of onion juice is Infinite
It somehow forgets all the poo it's had in it!
You show me that it works and how it works
And when I've recovered from the shock
I will take a compass and carve Fancy That on the side of my cock
15a. Referenced studies conceal conflict-of-interest funding sources.. 15b. Referenced studies reveal conflict-of-interest funding sources.
15. While anti-vax refer to people such as Mercola, Andrew Wakefield and Mike Adams who directly profit from their research. Most papers are published as part of hospital research with little to no funding or with hospital grant funding such as my friend's reasearch into GPU heart modelling or another friend and his medical research into detection of patent foramen ovale through ultrasound and microbubbles. They actually don't get any money from "conflicting interests" and even when sponsored, doctors tend to be incredibly untrustworthy of non transparent research. We often compare multiple independant studies before we adopt a medicine. It takes roughly 10 to 15 years to adopt a new drug.
16a. Statistics always presented to show maximum damage from problem and minimum damage from solution. 16b. Statistics presented to show many aspects of problem, not always from a non-max/min approach.
16. Statistics show minimum effective dose and maximum tolerable dose to provide a therapeutic dose value. And it's the maximum damage from the problem we are trying to prevent. I mean if 80% of the cases of untreated meningitis is death, why are we so worried about the 20% of cases. I mean good grief we also take in median values of cases and a whole bunch of other statistics.
17a. Emphasis on removing symptoms. Aims for quick results. 17b. Emphasis on removing causes through knowledge and its integration into living habits. Aims for long-term results.
17. Shows that the individual clearly has no fucking grasp of medicine beyond chronic diseases. We have plenty of treatments for acute diseases. The treatment for amoebic dysentary are both symptomatic and causative. Metronidazole for causative organism (Entamoeba Histolytica), ORS for rehydration, anti-pyretic for fever and stomach ache and anti motility drug to reduce diarrhoea. Three symptomatic reductions and one curative. We rarely even use a single drug for most things because we understand what synergistic drug use means. We understand that we can combine drugs to improve their effect far more than the individual drug and we understand that many diseases require combinations that work together to both alleviate symptoms and cure causative agent. The diseases that are treated purely symptomatically either have no cure (Eg. Diabetes Mellitus because we cannot yet regrow bits of pancreas or Atherosclerosis because we don't know how to reverse fatty infiltration once it gets past the initial stage or HIV because we don't have a cure yet.) or aren't worth the cure (the side effects of interferons aren't as bad as the actual effect of the common cold.) One day we will have a fucking cure, just 15 years ago we didn't have a cure for endemic stomach ulcers, now we do. (Omeprazole 6 weeks, 2 weeks clarithromycin and amoxicillin) We keep curing things all the time. It's just that the average anti-vax conveniently ignore the hundreds of cures out there.
18a. Emphasis on management and control. Professional "manages" while patient "follows orders". 18b. Emphasis on patient participation and recovery. Professionals "give guidelines" and patient directs his own therapy.
18. Patient management is the ability to see multiple patients over a day. Patient management is also the ability to increase compliance with a treatment regimen because people who don't follow treatment regimens do poorly. Patient management is giving a child a lollipop so they associate visits with lollipops and come more often. And we expect patients to follow our instructions because not following instructions has dire consequences. We don't write "Take before food" on medicine for shits and giggles. We don't say "finish course of antibiotics" for no reason. There are reasons for that. Not following instructions is pretty much how most people hurt themselves with medication. Do not exceed this amount means do not exceed this amount. Take before food regularly means take before food. Do not miss dose means do not miss dose. Keep sugar pills on you means keep sugar pills on you. These aren't suggestions but orders for a reasons. If you fuck up then it is our job and our livelihood on the line. Every Single Death That Occurs In A Hospital is subject do a mortality and morbidity meeting. Where department heads get together and discuss how and why each death occurred and indeed discuss deaths that could have been prevented. And believe me, if it is a doctor's fault they will attempt to get you struck off unless the fault was patient centred.Since every death is a bad statistic. Even if a patient comes to the hospital with multiple gun shot wounds, the M&M meeting takes place for someone who clearly died from being shot.
19a. Assembly line methods geared for profit. 19b. Client-centered methods geared for autonomy.
19. Mercola and Mike Adams run stores… For Profit. As does every single homeopath out there. Last I heard most people in the western world live on money that they earn by working. So I don't know where this "profit is bad malarky is leading" but alt. med actually have higher profit margins since homeopathy is basically water that's been smacked around and is effectively marked up by a ludicrous amount. Some of the biggest charities in the world are the Red Cross and Doctors without Borders who are medical charities where doctors work for free often in warzones and places where no one else dares to go.
And there is autonomy in medicine, we offer a range of treatments to suit the needs of people. However in some cases you have no choice because there are f
ew actual options.
20a. Reliance on technological intervention and substitution, e.g., organ transplants, insulin injections, surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, synthetic and frequently toxic drugs and vaccines. Focuses on replacing organs or systems and their functions. 20b. Reliance on harmless, noninvasive therapies and substances. Focuses on regenerating organs and systems and restoring their function.
20. Organs don't always regenerate and many organs such as the brain and heart do not heal ever. I would like to see them regenerate a heart or a simple brain lesion… And seriously? They are bitching that we like to use technology? How the fuck do you diagnose a pregnancy without a HCG test? How the fuck do you diagnose a heart arrhythmia without a steth and an ECG. How the fuck do you diagnose a broken bone without an XRay and by very definition superficial examination cannot tell you any fucking thing about internal anatomy because unless your surname is Kent you cannot see through a human chest. It's such a laughable little thing to claim "Well they use technology and technology is bad!". Of course! Without technology a lot of diseases are wishy washy rather than concrete things and you can bullshit a lot of money out of people by making grandiose claims from superficial examinations rather than someone pulling out hard evidence from something like an MRI.
Without technology a lot of those diseases are eminently fatal such as diabetes and cancer. And a lot of toxic drugs are quite useful. I don't know how we would ever treat Myasthenia Gravis without neostigmine (poisonous) or pesticide poisoning without atropine (also poisonous).
21a. Cost and dependency escalating. 21b. Cost and dependency de-escalating.
21. Cost of medicine actually has gone down. There are some really expensive things in medicine but we don't need to use them all the time. And the profit margins on homeopathy are phenomenal considering it is just water… For example the Patrick Holford monthly nutritional pack is £60… In the UK we give out Insulin for a price included in your taxes. It costs the government £30 for Insulin which is recombinant DNA technology and insanely fancy technology. The price has actually gone down since the cost of hasn't risen with inflation. When human analog insulin came out in the 1994s it was £28 ($50) and now it's £30 ($55) while inflation should make it cost around £50 ($75) if the cost of production stayed the same. Cost of medicine drops all the time to the point that I can get a week's worth of retrovirals for HIV (one of the more expensive drugs) for just $2 when during the 90s it was $20 a day… In short? The people who wrote this are lying.
22a. Disease and disability seen in terms of victimization and melodrama. 22b. Disease and disability seen as preventable.
22. We actually produce a lot of drugs to improve quality of life and to reduce melodrama. Many HIV patients live long lives. My dad has had diabetes for nearly 30 years now and hasn't died because of the medication. Untreated it would have killed him in 3 to 5 years. Hell my aunt survived for nearly 20 years with no functioning kidneys because of dialysis machines. She actually would work in the mornings then come home in the evenings and go on the machine because "she could work" and "it gave her something to do". And her work wasn't "She works in a shop". My aunt was a orthopaedician. She was a fucking doctor and she died unretired as a doctor and as an all round badass.
And we live in the world where medical science in ortho has reached the point where able bodied people are refusing to run with disabled people because disabled people may have an advantage. We live in the world of Oscar Pistorus. The Fastest man with no legs.
|This man is insanely badass.
We are actually at a stage where we are seriously considering whether or not to regard some disabled people as normal because prosthesis technology has reached the stage where they have human equivalent movement. We may actually be on the cusp of a technological advance where artificial legs exceed the capacity of a human leg. We may actually see people replace healthy limbs with artificial limbs to improve functionality. Plenty of people today would like to undergo below knee amputation to use a prosthesis which functions better than say… a foot with palsy or partial paralysis or a fused ankle. It's a matter of time before someone says "You know what? A robot leg would make me better at my job" or "That robot hand makes me insanely good at what I do" and treat it as no different from purchasing a screwdriver. We are seriously getting close to that level of technology and the idea of a cyborg. And all because we told disabled people that they can live a normal and healthy life and we provided them with technology that lets them do so and tried not to stop them and cuddle them like they were made out of glass.
23a. Mechanistic: Body seen as mass object containing discrete parts. 23b. Organic: Body seen as mass under which lies energy, living patterns and interacting fields.
23. We are biomechanical entities. Not "energy, living patterns and fields". Our muscles work by a molecular ratchet mechanism. One molecule isn't much… A couple of billion however is a force to be reckoned with. And energy? Seriously? Energy in our body is transferred via a chemical energy currency called Adenosine Triphosphate. And that the electrical field we generate is by calcium ion depolarisation which creates a net electron flow and is indeed chemically mediated?
Of course not. Because they have fuck all idea how the body works and would rather it be "mystical energy" than "ATP". And we don't treat the body's systems as discrete. Holy fuck this is stupid and I really need a drink to deal with this tower of ignorance. Are they seriously confusing the speciality of a doctor as the assumption that the doctor only understands his system? A doctor's speciality simply means that he sees cases pertaining to his speciality but he also knows how the rest fit together.
24a. Fragmented: Body and mind treated separately. Parts of body regarded separately and treated singly. 24b. HolisticL Body-mind treated as unity. Parts of body treated in relation to other parts and aspects of the body-mind.
24. The mind is a construct of your brain architecture and psychology is taught to every doctor. We actually know the value of psychology. W
e can prove this in motorcycle injuries since they normally show up with head injuries which shows that changes to brain architecture result in changes to personality and mind. Infact… the whole "mind" as a unique unchanging thing is just an extension of the religious soul concept. It's this nebulous thing used by quacks to make it seem like they take care of your brain somehow.
25a. Atavistic: Disease seen as entity separate from patient. 25b. Contemporary: Disease seen as process inseparable from patient.
25. Diseases are breakdowns of normal physiological function… They aren't normal. And they are part of the patient. Because I know of things that kill 100% of cancer cells but you simply cannot use in a normal human being… (Let's see. Cyanide, Rattlesnake venom, Anthratoxin, Pneumolysin, Perfringolysin O) because they would also kill normal human beings. Nearly every disease is treated in context of a normal human being.
26a. Adversarial: Disease seen as enemy. 26b. Unifying: Disease seen as reflecting a self-corrective aspect of body-mind complex in response to internal change in body environment.
26. Disease is your obviously your friend! HIV just loves your CD4 Lymphocytes so very much that it hugs them to death… C. Perferingens loves you so much that it wants to move in with you and change all the curtains in your legs.
You can pray all you want to whatever gods you may have chosen to believe in. You can grovel in front of your quacks but not one of them can save you from acute appendicitis. Not one of them has cured a single leper and not one of them could treat a meningitis case or a case of Status Epilepticus or Pneumonia. Because your mind and body relationship means fuck All when compared to real physiology, pathology, biochemistry and neurology. Fuck A Duck point 26 is the most inane nonsense ever.
27a. Externalizes Casuality: Focus is outside the patient: viruses, bacteria, and stresses in the environment, while ignoring toxic environmental factors in the food, water and air that may be grounds for corporate litigation. 27b. Internalizes Casuality: Focus on patient, choices, attitudes, habits, and reactions to environmental influences.
27. Now look who is generalising. Diseases have various causes. Microbial, Genetic, Environmental, Habit, Dietary, Age, Gender, Trauma, Psychological, Psychiatric. I take that back… Point 26 ties with point 27 for retardedness because I just fucking named eight more causes of disease than "Duhh… Environment". They all cause diseases. (Common Cold, Duchenne's Muscular Dystrophy, Hypothermia, Emphysema, Atherosclerosis, Parkinsons, Testicular cancer, Hypovolemic shock, PTSD and Schizophrenia if you need examples of each).
28a. Disease Oriented: Focuses on labeling, controlling and destroying disease entities. Research focuses on nature of condition as represented by symptoms, not causes. Absence of disease seen as result of technological intervention. 28b. Health Oriented: Focuses on support of natural healing, immune system, and addresses causes of conditions instead of symptoms. Absence of disease seen as by-product of health.
28. There is an entire field of medicine called preventative (or Community) medicine. Which is about education and infrastructure. You don't see many practitioners in the UK (They basically are GPs) but in many third world nations they are the frontline doctor. SPM (social and preventative medicine) are the cutting edge of response to infectious disease in third world nations. Oh and labelling disease is vitally important. Because knowing what the disease is lets you treat it and recognise it earlier. Natural Healing? Oh good fucking lord! If you naturally healed from disease we wouldn't give two fucking fucks about the disease. Do you see doctors bitching about Common Cold? No? Rhinovirus is not dangerous. Does this moron seriously think that not treating syphillis is a good way of treating T. Pallidum infections? Because it generally clears up after 3 years of dealing with lesions and being infection city. (T. Pallidum is so infective that mere contact with healthy skin can transmit it even through such thick skin as palms). So you should totally walk around for 3 or so years without having any sex or touching people! Oh and it can also go quiescent after 3 years and return as neurosyphillis which is a horrible disease. But then again what do I know. I just treat early syphillis in the time it takes to give an IM injection and late syphillis in under a fortnight of pills and don't really see any cases of neurosyphillis because I can treat syphillis in under 10 minutes and have it clear up in under two weeks. Now I am no mathematician statistician whizkid but I am of the belief that 10 to 14 days is a smaller number than 3 years. Maybe someone else can check my mathematics…
29a. Uses military rhetoric: "building defenses", "fighting", "battle against", etc. 29b. Descriptive language suggests harmony and cooperation.
29. Seriously? By that logic then one can use that argument to bitch about football too? I mean Attack, Defence, Midfield General and Goalkeeper are all also military terms. As are flanking and formation. It uses military terms because it's the easiest way to describe a infection in terms of what people understand. And seriously? Do you know the level of cooperation your body's immune system possesses to defend your body? Of course not! And because the army has no idea of harmony and cooperation at all. They just line up and run screaming at their enemies.
30a. Monolithic and coercive. 30b. Pluralistic, voluntary and multi-optioned.
30. Not all opinions are the same value. It's why NASA doesn't give credence to flat earthers and gravity fairy experts. Everything that works is medicine. We don't give any value to stuff that doesn't work. It's not monolithic and coercive, it's just that alt. med bullshit doesn't work at all or doesn't work as well as the alternatives.
31a. Negative: Builds on fear and distrust of the natural world (Darwinian Paradigm). 31b. Positive: Builds on cooperation with the natural world. A system of healthcare.
31. Darwinian Paradigm? Darwin's Theory Of Evolution is basically the idea that nature selects against deletrious traits via the idea of "nature's war" which eliminates the weakest members often preventing them from breeding. AKA if a strategy lets you breed then you are more likely to breed even if your strategy is likely to kill you. Eg. Peacocks. Their plumage is a liability. However the male peacock only has it and is basically a very flashy sperm delivery system. His death means bugger all in terms of survivability as long as the females survive and have sex with males before they get eaten by whatever predator catches them. Female Peahens are actually very drab and camoflauged. Survival of t
he whole species matters, the individual does not. Which is why plenty of species have really horrible life cycles such as "lytic birth" where the parent animal is eaten by it's young from inside. Nature is not this nice cuddly thing.
The deer and buffalo are food for the tiger, we are food for pathogens. Now the deer fights back with speed but eventually it will get old then the tiger will catch it. The buffalo fights back with power and devastating horns. Eventually it will get old and the tiger will catch it as it can no longer fight. Eventually… the tiger will get old and either starve or be killed by a buffalo. That's how life is. Horribly brutal and not some magic happy place. It's sad to think but that's what we came out of as humans and that's what shaped our skills. .
The disease is a tiger. Sometimes we can beat it, sometimes we cannot. Medicine is a monsterous equaliser which means that more often than not we can beat it. In the same way that the spear turned us into the predator of the tiger rather than vice versa. This is the most hippietastic bullshit ever. It's the assumption that even in a quiet field of grass nature is in some mystic harmony rather than a series of competitive species. Just because the animals that die are very small doesn't change the fact that it's merely a smaller scale equivalent of a tiger eating a baby deer.
|Or a Crocodile
One of the best descriptions of nature comes from the phenomenal Terry Pratchett
"I was walking along the bank of a stream when I saw a mother otter with her cubs. A very endearing sight, I'm sure you will agree, and even as I watched, the mother otter dived into the water and came up with a plump salmon, which she subdued and dragged on to a half-submerged log. As she ate it, while of course it was still alive, the body split and I remember to this day the sweet pinkness of its roes as they spilled out, much to the delight of the baby otters who scrambled over themselves to feed on the delicacy. One of nature's wonders, gentlemen: mother and children dining upon mother and children." – The Patrician
The problem with the anti-vax movement (Or should that be the anti-medicine movement?) is that they simply live in a delusional fantasy. Where you can somehow reason with bacteria and viruses and that the power of wishful thinking, prayer and self belief somehow can overcome bacteria.


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Sunday Afternoon: What Kierkegaard Wanted On His Tombstone
As perhaps most know, Kierkegaard was a rather melancholic and despairing Christian, with an unfortunately fragile and sensitive temperament. He reminds me, temperamentally, of a male version of Emily Dickinson. [Yes, yes, I know that Christians aren't supposed to be despairing—no emails please.]
Here is the Brorson hymn that he wanted on his tombstone—it is very fitting.
"In a little while,
I shall have won,
The entire battle
Will at once be done.
Then I may rest
In halls of roses
And unceasingly,
And unceasingly
Speak with my Jesus."
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15 comments
Just as I am, without one plea,
While not original, but, in my view, quite as elegant as Kierkegaard's, the first verse of Charlotte Elliott's beautiful hymn, often used as the "alter call" hymn in some protestant churches, would be my choice for my tombstone epitaph.
Probably not very theologically sophisticated, but it works for me, I hope.
I have often thought that people spend far too much on preserving bodies and far too little on making headstones. Preserving the body simply flatters the ego. It prolongs the illusion that man has greater permanence than he truly possesses. An epitaph is the last opportunity we have to communicate to the living. After all, headstones and cemeteries benefit only the living. They mean nothing to the dead. And what difference does it make that our bodies will turn to dust?
So here is my theory. Purchase a pine box, and let the worms have a feast. God will restore what the worms consume. The money you save on the box and the embalming can be better spent on a last word to the living. You never know who might read a headstone. It might even be contained in the decretive will of God.
On my son John's stone we have
On mine I wish to have
We couldn't afford enough rock to have room for the text, so we have only the reference on John's stone. My choice for mine is shorter, and we might be able to have the words carved in….
A melancholic tone is not unexpected for someone so keenly aware of the toil of this world and the bliss of the next. Would that we would all be so aware of the difference and pine as Kierkegaard did for the unceasing company of Jesus.
I, too, have a fondness for Emily Dickinson. She seems to possess an uncanny comfortableness with the darker side of the soul. She holds up an often unwanted mirror to the sinful heart. We need such insight from time to time.
Bo—how old was your son when he died?
What a lovely last verse in that Job passage: "I myself will see him with my own eyes—I, and not another. How my heart yearns within me!"
I think in a lot of ways, Kierkegaard was utterly exhausted by life. He was "different."
John was 59 days old.
Job is so full of the Gospel, and of life. It is easy to see why it is my favourite 'scroll of the Old Testament'.
And yes, with My Own Eyes, and not those of Another, I Shall SEE Him. The blessed Hope, from before Abraham.
One of the amusing lines of Kirkegaard's concerning one fairly well-known hymn writer of the day was that he was either "a jaunty yodeler or a bellowing blacksmith."
I'm not opposed to either jaunty yodeling or bellowing blacksmithing when appropriate—I just think it's a humorous insight into Kierkegaard's personality.
My father was a very good person, but aspects of his life were very hard. When he died, the grief was difficult, but my spouse nailed it all when he said, "But think of him as 'free'"...yes, he's 'free'—tough for us, I know, but better for Dad. Prayers…
I'd just have 1 Cor 13, 12 ...
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text:
Best UAV/FPV flying gear
Flight Stabilization System integrates the three-axis gyroscope, three-axis acceleration ,which make up a basic platform inertial navigation system. It can calculate the attitude of the model plane by a special algorithm. Once the Flight Stabilization System detected there is change between the model plane's present attitude and the horizontal attitude, it will give a controlling signal to keep the model plane in a state of equilibrium. The Flight Stabilization System can be used very easily. The manipulator just need to place the control stick in the middle of the remote controller, then the model plane could revert to the state of equilibrium. The Flight Stabilization System can be used in any environment, such as indoors or any weather conditions. It dose not need any other initialization. Just switch on the power then the model plane can fly to the sky stably. There are three control knobs for controlling elevator, aileron and directional channel.
FY-21AP kloppenstryker install.
Technical Target:
Working voltage: 4.0~6.0 Volt
Electric current:30mA (5V)
Size:55 x 33 x 20 mm
Weight(exclude electric wire):12g
Temperature range:-25°C~ +70°C
Maximum rate of rotating: ≤ 1200 °/s
Applications as the following: normal fixed-wing plane, delta-winged plane with rudder, delta-winged plane without rudder, rudder plane without aileron, V –end plane with aileron, V-end plane without aileron.
Technical target of the FY-OSD2.0:
Working Voltage:7.2~24 Volt;
Electric Current: 0.1A (12V);
Size:47 x 30 x 12 mm;
Weight(exclude electric wire):10g;
Temp Range: -25°~ +65°C;
Current Measuring Range: 0 ~ 30A;
Click here for FY 21 AP manual PDF (New better manual comming soon)
Se more info on FY Flight Stabilization System
Posted by Steve on 14th Jun 2010
oooh but does it fly? well good question... I was finally able to test it today. I have had it installed the day I received it but unfortunately the only version shipping right now is PAL and I needed NTSC.. so I had to order a PAL camera and of course I don't have a PAL compliant camcorder... so no inflight video but here are my impressions.
First few flights I would go into stabilization mode and belive it or not the thing would flip itself upside down and fly!!! I was impressed... but not that impressed hahah... I had the throw going the wrong direction... oops...
After reversing the aileron throws (just the turn of a screwdriver) I launched again.... this time no flipping... actually... it's steady as a ROCK.... I then banked... it leveled out.. perfectly... actually it leveled as fast as my stick went back to centre.... then just stayed there.. no rocking.... nothing.. so I pull up... it goes straight back to level when I let go....
ok sounds good now how about elevation hold.... I switch to stabilition with elevation hold... perfect....
on to autopilot... switch to RTL and she comes right back home. It holds a nice tight circle of 120m around me... I send it back out... hit position hold... it circles around the point where I hit it... I am impressed....
Watching the video while in Autopilot the plane does rock back and forth a bit.... I have no rudder so it does have to bank for it's turns. I did not have a chance to dial the gain down much. I did one flight with slightly reduced gains and it did reduce the rocking in autopilot mode. No it does not rock in stabilzation mode. It's not as smooth as my atto but I have not spent any time dialing it in yet.
If I cant reduce or remove the rocking... do I care? no. will it come home? yes and that's all I need for this one.
ok so I did this a few times and then started to watch the video... here is where things fell apart a bit..... with throttle on the screen goes very fuzzy, more so than usual when powering off one battery. I would say this osd is very susseptable to noise.. more than any other I have owned. I throttle up and the video goes bad and the osd text slides down so you can't read the bottom lines....
Ok fine so I have some video issues. powering off a separate battery may fix this or I can put an anyvolt micro in (that usually solves some lines but this may be too much)
It could be a pal issue but I am not sure.. my screen that i fly by can read pal and ntsc so I am sure it's a power thing. This osd needs clean power.
So all in all I give this osd (SO FAR) a 8 out of 10... if it came in NTSC I would give it a 9 and if the video was not so prone to noise I would give it a 10...
Any questions feel free to ask. Oh and BTW so far I would say the stabilzation alone kicks FMA's butt.... I have installed FMA's into many airplanes.... and ripped them all out... they are paper weights.


text:
|Mary Katherine's First Deer
It's a fine thing just getting your 13-year-old daughter to come hunting. Everything else is pure gravy.
She took her hunter's certification test when she was 11, mostly, I think, because her friends were taking the course—it's a rare family in rural northwestern Montana without at least one hunter.But in the following year she chose not to go hunting. I had imagined taking her into the woods early in the mornings in the autumn, particularly with a new snow down, and particularly up into the high country, to look for, and perhaps follow, a deer or an elk. Not so much to find one as to follow one, and draw nearer to it: to know that passion. But it was totally her choice.
I think it might have been a little off-putting: the way I had returned so many times from a hunt frozen or ragged, drenched and soggy; and of the way, at each season's end, my feet were blistered and tattered. I would tell her it didn't have to be that way, but she didn't seem eager to go try, and whether that was thereason, or the killing was the reason, or any of a hundred others were the reason, I couldn't quite tell. And I didn't probe too much, knowing better than to push. Twelve is awfully young, even in Montana.
That autumn passed, and a couple of her friends were fortunate enough to shoot a deer. I offered them my congratulations, and we traveled on into her 13th year.
We still went bird hunting over to the eastern side of the state a couple of times each year—Mary Katherine and her younger sister, Lowry, neither of them carrying guns but walking behind me and the dogs, wading the prairie beneath that huge sky, following the dogs as if harnessed to them, helping flush the birds when the dogs went on point—but still Mary Katherine had no desire to go after deer or elk, with or even without a rifle in hand.
Thirteen isn't always the greatest age for togetherness between child and parent, and my mantra, as I watched her growing up quickly, became to meet her where she is. To remain vigilant, and to be present, and to watch for any opportunity to simply remain somewhat in her life, and for the time being to pretty much forget about having her in my life—within the borders and boundaries of my own passions—as it had been in the sweet and wonderful once-upon-a-time of her childhood. Those days were gone, and the trick, the task—the opportunity—was to find sweetness in these new days, for surely it was there, too, if now in different form and fashion. After a long period of not growing, I would be asked—or presented the opportunity—to grow, too. Not so fast as she was—only her peers could keep up with that. But to grow again after a long time of not, as if I had been out wandering the mountains and had crossed over into another, unfamiliar valley.
If I'm making fatherhood in such a time sound like an old hound sitting on the porch waiting to be let back in, sometimes that's pretty much how it is. Watching and waiting.
The season of her 13th year passed—I continued to let her know that, anytime she changed her mind, I'd be happy to take her out to look for an animal, for any period of time—but she hadn't even bought a license and seemed to have made her peace with not hunting. She wasn't opposed to it; she just didn't have a spark for it. And while I would have liked her to have that spark, it was her life, her choice, and all a part of the wonderful young woman she would become, was becoming.
Late in October, a good friend of hers went out with her older sister's boyfriend, and was fortunate enough to take a cow elk.
In mid-November the whitetail rut began and the snow began to fall, and a couple of boys at her school were fortunate enough to find a buck. "I think I can find you an animal," I said. "We could just go out for an hour or so."
She shook her head. But she didn't yell, didn't shout, "Leave me alone!"
Thanksgiving came—the peak of drama for hunting season: deep cold, deer, elk, wild turkey on the table; time away from school, deep in the heart of home and deep in the heart of the valley—and I continued to wander out each day, just looking around to see what I might see, hunting with leisure rather than need, as I had found a young bull after a long hard season of hunting, and we weren't short on meat.
The season was winding down. The Saturday after Thanksgiving I decided to casually float the offer one last time. A light snow was predicted, and for whatever reason—perhaps bored, perhaps antsy being away from her friends for two days, perhaps having gestated the matter for two years—Mary Katherine agreed to go out the next day, the last day, if only for a little while.
I was, of course, exultant. I cleaned my grandfather's old rifle and showed her how to use it.
We practiced with its "false" trigger—the first 90 percent of the squeeze mushy, but then a calming firmness in the last 10 percent. We didn't snap the firing pin or shoot a live round, for I remembered how loud the rifle was the first time I shot it and I didn't want her being flinchy, didn't want to give her any reason for changing her mind.
I went to bed disbelieving my great luck—to be a father to these two girls is more than I could ever deserve or hope for, and to be able to take one of them out into the woods, into the valley I love, to go on our first hunt, felt as if I'd been wandering in a field of happiness and then had fallen through a trapdoor into something greater.
I awakened early, my blood afizz with winter insomnia, wrote until daylight and then woke Mary Katherine. That had been part of the bargain: letting her sleep in. Certainly it's finer in the woods before first light, but to tell the truth, I was also enjoying sitting there by the woodstove while everyone else slept, knowing that after 13 years of waiting I'd soon be walking out into the woods deer hunting with my eldest daughter, as my father had once walked out into the woods with me, as his father had once walked out into the woods with him, as had my grandfather's father and so on, perhaps all the way back to the earliest man.
It was strange, packing two of everything: two cups for the thermos of hot chocolate; two blaze-orange camouflage jackets, two pairs of dry socks, two stocking caps. As we drove to the trailhead of an old larch forest, my blood continued to effervesce. I don't think our frail bodies could withstand every day being like that, where nearly all we hope for is delivered, where everything beyond that deliverance—unasked for and unexpected—is gravy.
We parked, closed the doors quietly, and started up the steep trail, walking through new snow with more coming down around us. I don't want to make too much of this, but after a lifetime of hunting by myself it was quite a different thing to be looking at the mountain with more than just my eyes. Whispering to her, now and again, pointing out the direction of the breeze, the bark-rubbed saplings where the bucks had been at work. Complimenting her quiet footsteps, pointing out old tracks and new. Entering with her that electric other world, as though passing through a looking glass.
Anything could happen. In the next step, or the next, we might see anything: a great gray owl, the track of a late-to-hibernate black bear, maybe even a grizzly, a herd of elk, a lion, a lynx, anything. A deer.
We came out on a shelf so stippled by new tracks, it reminded me of the trident calligraphy of shorebirds on a beach. We had been walking only about 15 minutes, looking for a good place to sit and watch. It was important not to overdo it, not to push on to the next horizon and beyond. The snow was lessening, a north wind picking up, the fog and rime from the forest cleaning out our lungs, our blood, our hearts. Beneath that shove of breeze, wedges and puzzle-pieces of blue sky appeared—the buttery-rich yellow-gold winter sunlight plunging down through the old larch forest, branches winter-bare, shrouded only in moss and lichen—and in one such column of light I saw the head and ears of a doe lying behind a fallen log near a creek a few hundred yards away, as illuminated, even at that distance, as though by a spotlight. She seemed extraordinarily becalmed, as animals often do on certain beautiful mornings.
We watched her awhile, and in a whispered conversation I tried to explain to Mary Katherine the inexplicable: that I didn't want to hunt this doe for any number of reasons, of which the beauty and creekside tranquility were only one, but that it might be fun to try to sneak in closer and wait to see if a buck might be nearby.
As we watched, a young-of-the-year fawn, made frisky by the same cold clean air that filled us, popped up from behind the same log and ran in two quick circles around his mother, prancing and whirling, bucking and twisting like a tiny rodeo horse trying to throw a tiny unseen rider. It was more gravy, an opportunity to show that hunting, Continued from page 11 like some lives, comprises a significant amount of intuition; that when one is fully engaged one has greater authority, not less, to operate by one's senses and instincts. You're not always right, but sometimes you are, and it was gratifying to see the previously inexplicable—why it hadn't felt right to hunt this bedded doe—so clearly explicated.
We crept, crawled, stalked toward the recumbent doe and her goofy fawn, always keeping a big tree or a tangle of fallen lodgepole between her and us. The north wind was in our faces, concealing our scent completely, and the sound of the creek, along which we were creeping and beside which she was resting, seemed to have mesmerized her.
We crept to within 60 or 70 yards and then hunkered down behind a random corral of blowdown, looking as though laborers had set the first two or three courses of a log cabin before being called away for some little irrelevance—a glass of water, a cup of coffee—from which they never returned. Sometimes in these parts there is a feeling that a dead tree has no value beyond its timber, but we can find as much value in a dead fallen tree as in a green standing one.
We were hidden well, a near-perfect setup, and existing deliciously in the moment. Much later I would allow myself to think about how long ago the wind had tipped over this matchstick corral of lodgepole. From the looks of things, it could easily have been 13 years ago—a gust of wind preparing a place in the future for Mary Katherine. But there by the creek, tucked in with her against the house-stacking of logs, watching and waiting, I thought none of these things.
In less than a minute a nice young four-point buck trotted in from stage left, just as I had whispered might happen. I tensed with excitement, pleasure, hope, disbelief, gratitude, hunger, desire—the whole complex and utterly specific, utterly inexplicable chain reaction of responses known only to a hunter when the quarry presents itself—and I felt Mary Katherine respond in the same way.
It's not a question of right or wrong—there is and should be no set prescription for responses to the human experience—but I find it hard to imagine that almost anyone in such a setting would not likewise tense with anticipation, for it was really not so long ago that hunting was the main currency of human existence.
It's fine, I suppose, for individuals to have lost that connection, that rootstock—there's no stopping time—and it would have been all right with me if Mary Katherine was one of those people who, for whatever reason, no longer possessed or even understood that connection. But this was what I wanted to show her—to lead her right up to the edge of it—and it pleased me, and only surprised me a little to see that, given this shared experience, she felt pretty much the same jolt that I did.
Anything from here on was still more gravy. Nothing but marvel, nothing but miracle.
The buck stopped, posing, angled 45 degrees toward us, an impossible shot at any distance and with parts of his body obscured by trees, and gazed for long moments at the bedded doe, which turned her head to look back at him as if—or so it seemed to me—trying to pretend she had not known he was in the neighborhood.
I whispered to Mary Katherine to place the rifle over the top log and to find the buck in the scope, to be ready should he move forward into a position where she could take a clean shot. He was about 80 or 90 yards out. Mary Katherine tried but couldn't find him in the scope—so many trees, so much snow on the ground, so much sky—but it was good practice for her, and we were in no rush, for I was beginning to perceive already that this deer was intended for us, for her. We—she—might not be successful in taking it; but we hadn't come to this random corral on the first hunt, and on the last day of the season, not to be presented with a chance. As long as we kept up our end of the bargain.
After more gazing, more be-rutted mesmerization, the buck suddenly lowered his head and charged, not the doe but the fawn. Whether it was a mock charge or the real thing, I couldn't be sure. It looked real to me, and I think it did to the fawn, too, for it stumbled over logs trying to get out of the way, zigging and zagging and tail-flagging almost as if at play, and yet using the scattered windthrow for an escape route.
The fawn, the yearling, came straight at us, eyes wild—thundering, if so small an animal can be said to thunder—and was just on the verge of running right over us before it saw some small movement—perhaps our own eyes widening—and veered away, kicking up a spray of snow as it bounded over the brook.
This is always the problem with getting in too close on a herd of deer or elk: Once one of them discovers you, even the best-laid plans usually begin to crumble, with that one discoverer, be it doe, buck, or even clueless yearling, huffing and snorting and blowing your cover. I was a little discouraged that we had come so soon to this place in the hunt—though thrilled, too, that we had seen so much so quickly: some strange and wonderful recompense for so many countless hours spent crawling and sliding, trudging and staggering, lost and beaten, sighting no game; as if all that perceived failure in my past had merely been preparation for the summary deliverance of this luck, this grace. Certainly the evidence of the day leaned in that direction.
The yearling chose not to stick around to blow our cover. Wisely, I think, he considered the threats of the day—an angry older buck, hunters crouching with rifle raised—and decided not to warn the others, but to let them figure it out on their own.
Amazingly, the scene readjusted itself to a classic wintertime pastoral of holiday tranquility. The lissome doe rose to her feet and cantered off a short distance, looked back at the buck, and then loped across the creek farther upstream, and I thought for a moment that she, too, was panicked. But the buck continued to stand there, trying to figure things out, and I continued trying to help Mary Katherine find him in her scope.
Then he began moving, his winter-gray body passing slowly through the trees, antlers gleaming.
"I think we're going to get a shot at him," I whispered. Mary Katherine lifted her eye from the scope, saw him, then put her eye to the scope and found him. "I see him," she said.
"If he stops, and you're comfortable with the shot, take it," I said. "You don't have to if you don't want to. But he's a nice one, and this is a good hunt."
She tensed, stilled herself, silently answering. I put my fingers slowly to my ears, but the buck didn't stop, and disappeared into the trees lining the brook.
Still, it wasn't over. He was clearly tracking the doe and yearling, and it was possible they would walk right into our laps.
"Come with me," I whispered, noting an even more strategic hollow into which we could nestle ourselves, one with better crossbar-spars for resting her rifle. A perfect brace and a perfect setup, whether the buck continued downstream toward our tangle or whether—better—he should cross the creek and continue his traverse out into the open stand of mature larch, where he would be exposed and even closer. The most perfect thing would be for him to saunter through that beautiful open forest—visible all the way, his eyes trained for the gone-away doe and watching his footing amidst the lodgepole—to a little knoll about 50 yards to our right, where if he was still sauntering I could give a little grunt on the deer call and he might turn his head to look at the sound, pausing broadside, searching.
I explained all this to her, pointing and gesturing and whispering quickly as we belly-crawled to our newer, more secure spot. The brook masked and muted our faint sounds.
No sooner had we gotten settled than the doe entered this open stage, walking among the giant trees, exposing herself almost the entire way, and Mary Katherine asked if she could shoot this deer.
"She may still be with that yearling. Let's wait on the buck. I think he'll be coming."
The doe walked on, aiming for that little knoll, where, as if we had already seen it in a vision, she paused, then disappeared over its far side.
Now the buck came onstage, following the doe's trail as though fastened to her by an invisible pack string. He stopped 60 yards out. "Take the shot if you're comfortable," I whispered, to which Mary Katherine whispered back, "I see him, I see him"—again, I covered my ears—but then he started walking once more, and I felt Mary Katherine relax with disappointment.
"Don't worry," I said. "You'll get another chance. When he crosses I'll blow on the grunt tube, and when I do you be ready because he'll stop. You don't have to shoot, but if you do, hold steady, exhale, and squeeze cleanly."
We waited, watching the deer cross his final steps for that place toward which, if you're inclined to think about such things, he had been striding for 48 years or for all time, and we watched, as though counting his final paces.
Our breath rose in twin vapors. The buck kept striding through the old larch forest. Soon his path would carry him beyond us. I raised the grunt tube and blew, and again as though we with our imagination and desire had planned such a thing, the buck stopped broadside in the open and looked in our direction.
"That's a good shot," I whispered, "take it if you want." Once again, I covered my ears and watched.
I hadn't expected her to hit it. I had expected her to shoot high, or low, or not at all. Instead I heard the concussive sea-roar I had been waiting for, and was astounded to see the deer hop hunch-backed, all four feet off the ground like a rodeo bull, and then take off running.
"I missed him," she said. "I don't know how, but I missed him."
I laughed. "No, you got him." I pointed to the knoll. "He ran around behind that and then fell down stone dead. You'll see."
She shook her head. "I blew it. I missed him. I can't believe I missed him."
"No," I said. "You hit him, I guarantee."
She wanted to get up and go see, but I said we had to wait—generally an hour, but with so much snow we could cut it to a half hour.
It was a pleasure to sit quietly with her and replay the hunt in each intimate detail, to praise and brag on her, to see her pride and pleasure, though leavened by doubt.
It was a wonderful microcosm of our life. She was in a hurry to ascertain her success, or lack of success, while I was delighted to savor the waiting-time. She was in a hurry to grow up, while I wanted to wait quietly just a little while longer—one more year, one more month, one more week: this half hour, this moment, anything.
We sat and talked until we began to shiver. I kept telling her not to worry, and she kept worrying. It was a good transition time, I realized, for her to adjust to the reality of what had just transpired—that she had indeed just killed an animal, which, as has so often been pointed out, is not at all the same thing as walking into a store and purchasing it.
We got up and walked slowly, quietly, up the buck's backtrail so she could see in the snow the before-and-after of the deer walking and then running, the scatter of loose gray hair and the blood like a signature, proof that we would soon be claiming this deer. But when we came to that divot-spot of hump-shouldered sky-leap I could find neither hair nor blood; only tossed-up black earth from the sharp-hoofed bolt, and Mary Katherine despaired, believing in her teen heart, and not for the first time, that I was wrong and she was right.
"It's got to be here," I said, still confident. I followed the tracks and finally found a few drops of blood and some loose hairs. "There," I said, disappointed by how little there was. What if she had only creased his back? And after
I had assured her otherwise. Perhaps every guide has been in this heartsinking position, but this was my first time.
We followed the tracks carefully, quietly, in case the deer, only slightly wounded or perhaps not at all, should leap up in front of us. I showed Mary Katherine why it was important not to step in the tracks, to preserve the option of coming back and reinterpreting things should you get thrown off-track, to circle back and start over.
I continued to be discouraged by the small amount of blood and by the buck's unhurried gait—the tracks seemed to indicate he was in control of his carriage. I worried what would happen when we ran out of blood spots, when the buck's tracks merged with those of other deer.
Then the blood spots disappeared completely, and I cautioned Mary Katherine to scan the old forest to see if the buck might be standing at the far side looking back at us. It had happened that way with me many times during the rut, with deer as well as elk—the snort, the flag of tail, the unharmed animal, curious and not particularly wary, watching the hunter approach, the hunter's eyes fixed on the ground and not on the path ahead—and although I was beginning to worry we might not find this deer, it pleased me to realize that everything I had told her, this fine last-day morning, was new information to her. It made me feel useful. Only coming upon the miracle of the buck could make the morning feel finer.
After 40 yards we came to an ice-bed where he had lain briefly, waiting quietly, while we in turn had been waiting quietly on the other side of the hill. There was very little blood, and I felt less assured than ever.
It's all a puzzle, all an assemblage of pieces, always. Had the buck run those 30 or 40 yards, knelt down, then leapt up at our approach? Or had he only lain there for mere seconds before jumping up and staggering on now, thrashing his way toward that final place that in his animal mind was surely only just a little farther on?
I stopped, trying to slow time—trying to fully remember being in the woods on the last day of the season with my oldest daughter on our first hunt—and saw the buck piled up in more lodgepole not 15 yards away. Mary Katherine was still staring glumly at the vacant ice-bed.
"Follow his tracks," I said. "Keep following his tracks." I was tempted to say just a little farther.
And carefully, cautiously, she led the way, head down, moving from track to track—more blood now, a lot of blood, and broken logs and branches indicating a heavy passage—and I understood that all this had transpired in mere seconds following her shot, that only our cautious waiting seemed to attenuate the journey.
She was seven or eight yards away when she looked up and saw his long body lying over the fallen lodgepole, stretched out as if in midleap, the antlers still held aloft.
We approached him quietly, respectfully. I looked around at the day and said, "Thank you woods, thank you valley, thank you deer, thank you Mary Katherine, thank you everything," and then we examined the animal and remembered the hunt a little more. I took some pictures of her with the deer—her deer, I suppose it could be called now, though I resist the possessive in such matters—and then we set about cleaning it. As we did so I pointed out the organs, a biology lab writ large.
Afterwards, we wiped our hands in the snow and then began dragging the deer out. What a delight to help sled that deer through the woods and over the fallen logs and down the mountain. What a delight, with my aging body, to feel so acutely my own mortality.
A task once insignificant was now ponderous and significant. I stumbled and tripped, as had the deer in his final run. I, too, stopped often to rest, to gather my breath and keep going.
The ravens saw us and began to call and follow, and I imagined how timeless and normal it must have seemed from their perspective: just two more hunters fortunate enough to find a deer. They called to one another, wheeling and backtracking our path to that point where we had cleaned the deer.
Did they know anything, I wondered, of the extra fire and joy in my heart, the pride and strange peace? Or were they calling only for another meal?
I wanted them to know differently. I wanted them to know this one was different. I wanted the whole world to know, but it was just me and Mary Katherine, moving quietly through the snowy forest, with everything around and in us ancient and new. n
Rick Bass is the author of numerous books of fiction and nonfiction, including Colter: The True Story of the Best Dog I Ever Had and, most recently, a memoir, Why I Came West. He lives with his family in northwest Montana's Yaak Valley, where he remains active in a longstanding wilderness campaign. His books are available from Amazon.com.


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Welcome to Committed for Life!
Committed for Life Marriage Ministry (CFL) is dedicated to helping husbands and wives develop a marital oneness that glorifies The Lord by reflecting the relationship between Jesus Christ and His bride, the church. We are a community of married couples who join together for the purpose of mutual edification through Biblical instruction, encouragement, and accountability. We believe that marriage is the uniting of one man and one woman in covenant commitment for a lifetime, providing the framework for emotional and physical intimacy, and for the procreation of children who are taught to revere The Lord.
CFL's mission is rooted in Matthew 19:4-6. "Have you not read that He who made them at the beginning 'made them male and female,' and said, 'For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh'? So then, they are no longer two but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let not man separate."
Furthermore, we believe that – since marriage is of God – we cannot fully experience marriage as He intended unless we have individually accepted His gift of salvation. "For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast." (Ephesians 2:8-9) When we commit ourselves, first to Him and then to each other, we have the assurance that He enables us to love one another in a way that results in harmonious marriages that endure adversity.


text: Unto the great and wonderful populace of Elfsea We will Sit in State Saturday of Dragonsfire Tor. His Majesty will be in Bonwicke for their investiture, but will be joining Her Majesty as soon as possible. We encourage each and every one of you to visit with us concerning the state of affairs in your barony. We want you to be well informed and we want you to have an opportunity to voice your concerns and suggestions regarding Elfsea. In Service to Ansteorra, Miguel and Conal Rex et Regina


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"Matching tags I got with my sons invitations. Was surprised as I was expecting something bigger but a in actual fact nice and small. These a stickers and il be using them on the kids party/loot bags."
"My youngest (6 years old) picked these out as her Valentines. She put them on a packet of candy for each person in her class. She put a "K" in the heart for kindergarten and thought that they were super cool!"
"I have been searching for custom hang tags for my home-based business and came across this Sticker. With a little creative intution I re-designed the lettering and used a deeper brown to make my business logo "POP" I wanted a "WOW FACTOR" when people touched my product and we all know that image is everything!! Much to my surprise when the product arrived I was pleasantly surprised. The quality of the product far surpasses it's price!! This is where quality meets affordability. The first thing my customers notice is the labeling before the product!! If I stated every person's praises I would be here all night!! With a little imagination this product could be used for just about anything!!"


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Growing and Eating Fruits and Vegetables Safely
We often receive inquiries about vegetable gardening on real or suspected contaminated areas (neighborhoods that were once landfills or were filled in with waste, former agricultural land, etc). Last fall we produced and distributed a fact sheet, "Growing and Eating Fruits and Vegetables Safely" to assist the public in growing gardens safely.
We recently revised the fact sheet to include guidance regarding gardening over septic tanks. Attached is the newly revised version. The fact sheet provides questions and answers about gardening and real or potentially contaminated soils.
Department of Health and Human Services to Conduct CASPER Exercise
Hartford, CT – The City of Hartford Department of Health and Human Services, in collaboration with the Department of Emergency Management, Hartford Fire Department, Hartford Police Department, and Hartford Emergency Services and Telecommunications, will be conducting a Community Assessment for Public Health Emergency Response (CASPER) exercise this weekend. The Division of Environmental Hazards and Health Effects Health Studies Branch (DEHHE/HSB) at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) developed the CASPER toolkit to assist personnel from local, regional, state, or federal public health departments in conducting CASPER in the aftermath of a disaster. One of the main objectives of developing this toolkit is to standardize the assessment procedures by focusing on United States disaster response. The CASPER toolkit provides guidelines on data collection tool development, methodology, sample selection, training, data collection, analysis, and report writing.
About CASPER in Hartford
When: Saturday, June 7, 2014 from 9:00AM-2:00PM
Where: 210 total households to be surveyed from 30 randomly selected blocks in the City of Hartford
Who: 10 teams, each comprised of 3 volunteer staff members from HHS and other public health agencies
CASPER enables public health practitioners and emergency management officials to rapidly determine the health status and basic needs of the affected community following any type of disaster. Without information on the community, public health officials may make decisions based on anecdotal information; such decisions may not accurately reflect the need of the community. CASPER uses valid statistical and surveying methodologies to gather information about health and basic needs, allowing public health and emergency managers to prioritize their response and distribution of resources accurately.
To learn more about CASPER, please contact:
Nicole Hawley, MS| Public Health Preparedness Coordinator
City of Hartford | Health and Human Services
131 Coventry Street, Hartford, CT 06112
Main Office
131 Coventry Street
Hartford CT, 06112
Phone: (860) 757-4700
Fax: (860) 722-6851
8am - 5pm
Community Services Division
Phone: (860) 757.4730
Disease Prevention and Health Promotion Division
Phone: (860) 757-4830
Fax:(860) 722-6826
Maternal & Child Health Division
(860) 757-4820
Environmental Health Division
Phone: (860) 757-4760
Fax:(860) 722-6677


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Weighing in at just under 7 lbs, the 6.8mm caliber rifle has increased stopping power without added weight. Built with the hunter in mind, the Model 7 boasts a 20.77" stainless steel barrel 4 groove rifling and a 1:11 twist for improved accuracy, ballistics, and overall performance. Stag Arms has then added a custom non-reflective S7 finish that is not only non-reflective but also seals and prevents corrosion. Complete with a Hogue pistol grip, free-float handguard with over-molded rubber, two-stage match trigger, and a 5 round magazine.
Caliber: 6.8 SPC
Barrel: 20" Chrome Lined 1/11 Twist
Sights: Flat Top Upper and flat top gas block
Stock: A2 Fixed Stock
Grip: Hogue
Trigger: Two Stage Trigger


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- That's it for tonight. Hope you had a good time. Good night and sleep tight. Bye
Toss : South Africa won the toss and elected to field
Umpires : Aleem Dar (Pak) and Johanes Cloete (RSA)
TV umpire : Enamul Haque (Ban)
Match referee : David Boon (Aus)
South Africa : Graeme Smith, Quinton de Kock(wk), Colin Ingram, Faf du Plessis(c), Farhaan Behardien, David Miller, Ryan McLaren, Robin Peterson, Rory Kleinveldt, Morne Morkel, Lonwabo Tsotsobe.
New Zealand : BJ Watling, Brendon McCullum(c & wk), Martin Guptill, Kane Williamson, Colin Munro, James Franklin, Jimmy Neesham, Nathan McCullum, Grant Elliott, Kyle Mills, Mitchell McClenaghan.
Play Fantasy Cricket & Win
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Photo #: SC 192575
Normandy Invasion, June 1944
Medics administer a plasma transfusion to an injured survivor of a landing craft sunk off the "Fox Green" Beach portion of "Omaha" Beach. Note the inflatable life belt used as a pillow.
Photographed by Weintraub.
The original caption gives the date as 12 June 1944.
Photograph from the Army Signal Corps Collection in the U.S. National Archives.
Online Image: 91KB; 740 x 600 pixels
Reproductions of this image may also be available through the National Archives photographic reproduction system.
Click on the small photograph to prompt a larger view of the same image.
If you want higher resolution reproductions than this digital image, see: "How to Obtain Photographic Reproductions."
12 December 2003