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Tuesday Fiction: "The City of Silence" by Ma Boyong (Part Two)
Today's Tuesday Fiction is the continuation of 'The City of Silence' by Ma Boyong from China. You can read Part One of this story here. Ma Boyong (in accordance with Chinese custom, Mr. Ma's name is given in the order of surname followed by given name) is a popular Beijing-based writer of short stories and novels. His work fuses Western convention with traditional Chinese elements. His satire is well known in mainland China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan. His work has previously appeared in English in TRSF. "The City of Silence" was translated by Ken Liu.
Besides writing and translating speculative fiction, Ken Liu also practices law and develops software for iOS and Android devices. His fiction has appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Asimov's, Clarkesworld, Strange Horizons, TRSF, and Panverse 3, among other places. He lives near Boston, Massachusetts, with his wife, artist Lisa Tang Liu, and they are collaborating on their first novel.
The City of Silence
Ma Boyong
translated by Ken Liu
Out of habit, Arvardan did not say the words aloud. He wasn't certain if the words were healthy, and so asked his question only with his eyes.
"You can speak as freely as you like in here. This damned device won't work here." The woman pointed to his Listener. There was no warning beep. It didn't seem to hear the two sensitive words in her speech: "freely" and "damned."
Arvardan remembered the man he had seen a week ago at the bus stop. If he took off his Listener, would what happened to that man also happen to him? The woman saw that he was hesitant. She pointed to the lead-grey curtain at the door: "Don't worry. This can shield off the signal for the Listener. No one will know."
"Who, are, you? What, is, this, place?"
Arvardan took off the Listener. He spoke in a low voice. It was still too difficult for him to shift out of the manner of speech demanded by the appropriate authorities.
"This is the Talking Club. Here, you may speak as you like," said another man as he got up. He was tall and thin, the glasses over his nose particularly thick.
Arvardan mumbled, but could not speak out loud. He was embarrassed by the stares of the four others, and his face flushed bright red. The woman who had opened the door for him gave him a sympathetic look: "You poor thing. Don't be so tense. Everyone is like this when they first arrive. Over time you'll get used to it."
She put a hand on Arvardan's shoulder: "Actually, we've met. At least I've seen you, but you haven't seen me." As she spoke, she reached up and let down her hair. The black tresses fell to her shoulders, and in that moment Arvardan thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Arvardan finally spoke a whole sentence, though the words still did not flow smoothly. "I…remember you, remember your voice."
"Really?" The woman laughed. She sat him on a couch, and handed him a glass of water. Arvardan noticed that this was an old-fashioned glass, etched with a flowery pattern. The water inside the glass gave off a faint fragrance. Arvardan tried a sip. The sweet taste was particularly stimulating for a tongue that had grown used to distilled water.
"This wasn't easy to obtain. Even we can't get it every week." The woman sat next to him, looking intently at him with her dark eyes. "How did you find out about us?"
Arvardan explained the process by which he had discovered the sequence of clues. The other four nodded in approval.
"Smart man. Your brain hasn't become mush," said a thirty-something man with a few extra pounds. His voice was very loud.
The middle-aged man with glasses put his hands together in a gesture of agreement. "You are a natural for membership in the Talking Club."
"Alright," the fat man said, "let's give a round of applause to formally welcome the new member."
The other four applauded, and the sound of their clapping filled the small bedroom. Arvardan lifted the glass to them, embarrassed. When the applause died down, he timidly lifted his head, and asked, "Can I ask a question? What exactly is the Talking Club?"
The woman who had brought him in responded:
"The Talking Club is a gathering where we can say anything we want. There are no sensitive words here, and no healthy Web. This is a space to release your soul and stretch out your body."
"Our principle is just this: talk," added the middle-aged man, and he adjusted his glasses.
"But, what can I talk about?"
"Anything. You can talk about anything in your heart." The middle-aged man smiled.
This is an audacious gathering. It's clearly criminal, Arvardan thought. But he found himself attracted to the idea of being a criminal in this way.
"Of course, we need to make certain things clear," the woman said. "Talking is dangerous. Every member faces the danger of arrest by the appropriate authorities. State agents may break through the door at any moment, and capture us under the charges of illegal assembly and using illegal language. You have the right to refuse to join us, and leave immediately."
Arvardan listened to the woman's warning. He hesitated. But he thought that if he left now, then he would go back to his life, suffocating in a quagmire. Arvardan had not known he had such a strong yearning to talk.
"I will not leave. I will join you, talking."
"Perfect! Oh, why don't we start with self-introductions?" The woman was delighted. She stood up. "Let's start with me. My name is Artemis. As for my Web Access Serial? To hell with it. Who cares? I have my own name."
Her words made everyone, including Arvardan, laugh. Then she continued. "Still, Artemis is just a pseudonym. She's a goddess from Greek mythology."
"Right. It's not the same as the name on my Personal Identification Card."
"But, why?"
"Aren't you sick of the name they have for you in their files? I want to give myself a name that I like, even if there's just one place to use it. In the Talking Club we each have picked a name for ourselves. That's how we address one another."
Arvardan nodded thoughtfully. He understood Artemis's feeling. When using the BBS forums, he had hoped to pick a name that he liked, and not be assigned a user name.
Through Artemis's self-introduction, Arvardan learned that she was a staffer at the Department of Web Security, BBS Section. She was twenty-three, single, and hated cockroaches and spiders. Her hobbies included sewing and gardening, and the flowers in the bedroom were secretly cut and brought back by her from outside the Capital.
Next was the middle-aged man. His name was Lancelot. He was forty-one, an engineer at the Capital Electric Plant. The name "Lancelot" came from the Arthurian legends, and belonged to a faithful knight. Lancelot was married and had two children: a boy (aged three) and a girl (aged four). They liked lemon-flavored candy the most. Lancelot hoped he would be able to bring the kids to the next gathering of the Club. The children were still learning to talk, and he wanted them to learn real speech.
The thirty-something overweight man was a Web Regulator for the Department of Web Security, named Wagner. This surprised Arvardan. He had had the impression that Web Regulators were all cold, expressionless men, but the man before Arvardan was corpuscular, oily, and his mustache curled up spiritedly at the ends. He loved cigars and the opera, and took advantage of the special privileges available to Web Regulators to obtain them.
"Wagner got us the curtains that can shield the signals from the Listener," Artemis added. Wagner tipped an imaginary hat and bowed to her.
The fourth member of the Talking Club was a woman in a black uniform. She had just turned thirty. Her name was Duras, and she worked as an editor at the Capital Daily Times. She was even thinner than Artemis, and her high cheeks contrasted with her sunken eyes. Her thin lips didn't part much from each other even when she spoke, and never revealed her teeth. She liked cats and dogs, even though she had no pets now.
"It's you next," Artemis said to Arvardan. Arvardan took a minute to think, and then introduced himself to the group, stammering many times. When he tried to describe his hobbies, for a moment he couldn't think of any. He had never had to think about hobbies before.
Artemis put her hand on his shoulder again, and tried to help him. "Well, what's the one thing you really want to do?"
"I can really say anything?"
"Anything. There are no restrictions here."
Arvardan thought that he had finally found an opportunity. He cleared his throat, scratched his head, and broke into a loud, crisp shout: "Fuck you, you sonovabitch!"
All the others were stunned. Wagner was the first to recover. He held onto his cigar with his teeth and applauded vigorously. Then he took the cigar in his hand, and loudly exclaimed: "Fantastic! This should be our formal membership oath."
Artemis and Duras both giggled. Arvardan thought that, beyond the novelty of speaking with the Club, he really enjoyed the sense of contempt for the appropriate authorities in voicing the string of swearwords.
Artemis tilted her head and asked him, "What do you wish to name yourself?"
"Ummm…Wang Er," Arvardan said. This was a Chinese name. He had once had a Chinese friend who loved to tell stories. In all his stories, the main character was named Wang Er.
The mood in the bedroom was now friendly and easy, and conversation became more natural. Everyone got into a comfortable position, and Artemis refilled everyone's cup from a kettle from time to time. Arvardan gradually let go of his tension, and felt that his brain had never been so relaxed.
Artemis filled his cup with sweet water again, "It's impossible to speak freely in our daily lives. We need this space. But we can't openly advertise for membership, and it's far too risky to try to find new members through physical contact. So Lancelot designed a system of clues and hints, and Wagner and I used our system access privileges to leave the clues in places. Only those who discovered and solved the clues would find the Club."
"My system wasn't designed just for safety," Lancelot said. He took off his glasses and carefully polished them. "It's also a qualifying exam for potential new members. Members of the Talking Club must be in possession of intelligence and wisdom, passionate, and full of yearning for freedom."
Wagner held his cigar between two fingers, flicked the ash into an ashtray, then said loudly, "In my experience, most applicants for permission to use the BBS service are nostalgic for the past or desire something new and fresh in their lives. They think that the BBS forums will show them something different from daily life—of course, reality is far otherwise since the State's control over the BBS forums is even stricter than the regulation of email—but their desire indicates that they want to be free. Thus, we hide our clues in the BBS documents so that only applicants for BBS service can find them. And only those who are smart and observant can find all the hints and follow their trail to find this place."
"You are the second person to find the Talking Club. The first was Miss Duras," Artemis said to Arvardan. Arvardan gazed at Duras in admiration. Duras lightly said, "It's no big deal. My job is all about playing with words."
Arvardan remembered the crazy man he had met at the bus stop a week ago. He told the others his story. When he was finished, Lancelot shook his head, and sighed.
"I've seen this sort of thing too. It happened to a colleague of mine. This shows the necessity for something like the Talking Club as a pressure-release valve. Living constantly under the restrictions imposed by sensitive words will drive people crazy because they can neither think nor express themselves."
Wagner moved his heavy body to the side. "This is exactly what the appropriate authorities want to see. Then only the stupid will survive. A society full of stupid men is a stable one."
"You are also a member of the appropriate authorities, Mr. Wagner," Artemis said lightly as she refilled Wagner's cup.
"Miss Artemis, I'm an ordinary man just like any other, with the sole distinction that I'm allowed to use a few more sensitive words."
Everyone laughed. Arvardan had never seen so many people speak so much. He found, to his own surprise, that he quickly felt at home among these people. The distance and sense of unfamiliarity between them melted away quickly. Also, his dizziness and congested chest, problems that had become habits, disappeared.
Quickly the topic of conversation turned from the Talking Club itself to broader interests. Artemis sang a song; Lancelot told a few jokes; Duras told everyone about the customs of the southern provinces of the State; Wagner even sang an aria from an opera. Even though Arvardan couldn't understand a word of this last contribution, he did not hold back his applause. In a shielded corner of the Capital, five individuals unwilling to sink into silence were enjoying a most precious luxury—talking.
"Wang Er, do you know Nineteen Eighty-Four?" Artemis asked. She sat down next to Arvardan.
Arvardan shook his head. "I only know that nineteen eighty-four is part of my Web Access Serial."
"It's a book."
"Book?" This was an old word. Now that computer technology had advanced to the point that all information was contained by the Web, anyone could go to the online library to get the digital editions of published material. The appropriate authorities considered physical books to be an unnecessary waste, and they had gradually disappeared.
Wagner said, "It is understandable that the appropriate authorities prefer electronic books. With electronic books, all you need is FIND and REPLACE to eliminate all unhealthy words in a book and decontaminate it. But to correct and edit physical books would take forever."
"Nineteen Eighty-Four is a great book. It's what an old philosopher predicted about our modern world," Artemis said earnestly. "Long ago, the book perceived the struggle between restraint and freedom over the flesh and over the soul. It's the foundation of the Talking Club."
"How can one read this book?" Arvardan asked, staring into Artemis's dark eyes.
"We can't find a paper copy, and of course the online library won't have it." Lancelot shook his head, and then broke into another smile. He gestured with his left hand at Duras. "Our Miss Duras should be proud of her memory. When she was young, she was fortunate enough to have read this book, and could recall most of it."
"Wonderful! Then she wrote it out, right?"
"That would be far too dangerous. Right now, owning physical books is a great crime, and would risk exposing the Talking Club. Instead, every time the Talking Club meets, we ask Miss Duras to recite some of it."
Everyone quieted. Duras stood up and walked to the middle of the room. Arvardan casually put his arm around Artemis's shoulders, and she leaned towards him, her hair drifting between them. A faint feminine fragrance found its way to his nose and caused his heart to skip a few beats.
Duras's voice was not loud, but clear and forceful. Her memory was indeed amazing: not only did she remember the plot, but she could even recount many of the details and recite entire passages verbatim. Duras got to the part where Julia pretended to fall and secretly handed a note with the words "I love you" to Winston. Duras's retelling was so lively that she captivated everyone. Artemis was especially absorbed in the story, and didn't notice Arvardan's eyes, which never left her.
"The author of Nineteen Eighty-Four predicted the progress of totalitarianism, but could not predict the progress of technology." Wagner gave his opinion as Duras paused for a drink. Arvardan thought that Wagner's appearance belied his quickness: he was a very perceptive technocrat.
"In Oceania, it was still possible to pass secret notes to each other and express one's hidden thoughts. But now things are different. The appropriate authorities have forced all of us to live on the Web, where even if we wanted to pass secret notes to each other the Web Regulators would see everything. There is no place to hide. And in real life? We still have to contend with the Listener." Wagner knocked his cigar against his thighs. "To put it simply: technology is neutral. But the progress of technology will cause a free world to become ever freer, and a totalitarian world to become ever more repressive."
"This seems like the pronouncement of some philosopher," Artemis said, winking at Arvardan. She retrieved some cookies from a drawer and handed them to everyone.
"Isn't this just like how the bits are just 1's and 0's, but some will make them into useful tools, while others will make them into malicious viruses?" Arvardan said. Wagner snapped his fingers happily. "Very good, Wang Er. That's exactly it. You are a credit to programmers."
Duras looked at the clock hanging on the wall, and reminded the other four that time was up. The Talking Club could not meet for too long each time. The longer their Listeners remained shielded and off the grid, the greater the risk of exposure.
"All right. Let's take the final half-hour to complete today's activities."
Artemis cleaned away the empty cups on the table, and Lancelot and Wagner both got up to stretch out their shoulders and backs, a bit sore from sitting for so long. Only Duras remained seated without moving.
"Activities? What activities?" Arvardan asked. What would the Talking Club do other than talk?
"Oh, right. We do have other activities." Artemis moved her bangs out of the way, and gave him a seductive smile. "We still have to have frank exchanges with each other."
"Frank exchanges?"
"Yes, fucking, to speak plainly."
Arvardan's face turned white, and his breathing quickened. His stomach felt as if it had just been injected with air chilled to thirty degrees below zero. He couldn't believe his ears.
Of course, the appropriate authorities did permit sexual activities, but only between married couples. And there was a complex set of algorithms that computed the legally permitted frequency and lengths of their couplings based on the couple's age, physical health, income level, professions, environment, climate, and record of rule-violations. As for unmarried individuals such as Arvardan, it was completely illegal to engage in any sexual activity whatsoever (including masturbation) or to read or view any material related to sex—all immoral words having been eliminated from the List of Healthy Words in any case.
"The Talking Club has freedom of speech, as well as the freedom to go to bed with anyone," Artemis said without any embarrassment. "We talk to each other, and then choose whoever we like to make love with, just as we choose to speak the words that we like."
Lancelot saw the awkward expression on Arvardan's face. He walked over and lightly clapped Arvardan's shoulders. He said, gently, "Of course, we won't force anyone. This is all built on the foundation of consenting adults. I still have to leave early to pick up my kids. You have just the right number without me."
Arvardan's face flushed bright red. He felt hot, like the CPU in his computer during the summer. He couldn't even lift his eyes to look at Artemis. He had desired female company for so long, but this was the first time he had been so close to that goal.
Lancelot said his goodbyes to everyone. Artemis left the bedroom to Wagner and Duras, and took the hand of Arvardan, who was close to panicking, and led him to another bedroom. This one clearly belonged to Artemis herself. The room was appointed simply, very neat and clean.
Artemis took the initiative. Under her seductive ministrations, Arvardan gradually let himself go, and allowed the primitive desires hidden deep within his heart to come out. He had yearned for any kind of release from his dry, boxed-in life by imagining the smooth, mellow voice of a real woman, and now his dreams were finally coming true. Arvardan did not know if there was a distinction between his desire for her and his desire to say "Fuck you, you sonovabitch," but now was not the time for analysis.
When he woke up, he saw that Artemis was lying beside him, her naked body like a white jade statue. Even in sleep, her pose was beautiful. He lifted himself, yawned, and then Artemis opened her eyes.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" she asked.
"Yes…." Arvardan didn't know what else to say. He paused, then said hesitantly, "Before, with Lancelot and Wagner, did you also…ummm, what I mean is, like we did just now?"
"Yes," Artemis said, gently. She sat up, her hair hanging over her shoulder to cover her chest. Her forthrightness confused Arvardan. There was an uncomfortable lull in the room, and then Artemis broke the silence: "You remember the story today? The woman in the story handed the man a note that said, 'I love you.'"
"Yes," Arvardan said.
"The word 'love' does not exist in the List of Healthy Words promulgated by the appropriate authorities." Artemis's eyes were filled with regret and loss.
"I love you," Arvardan said, without thinking. He knew that it was possible to say anything he wanted in this room.
"Thank you." Artemis gave him a perfunctory smile. She put on her clothes and hurried Arvardan to do the same. Arvardan was a bit disappointed. She had not responded as enthusiastically as he had wished, but as though what he had just said was not all that important.
By now Duras and Wagner had already left. Artemis walked him to the door, handed him his Listener, and then reminded him, "Once outside, remember not to mention anything about the Talking Club or anyone here. Outside of the Talking Club, we are strangers."
"I understand," Arvardan said. He turned to leave.
"Wang Er."
Arvardan turned at her words. Before he knew what was happening, two soft lips covered his lips, then a low voice sounded by his ear. "Thank you. I love you too."
Arvardan felt his eyes grow wet. He put on the Listener, opened the door, and walked back into the suffocating world. But now he was in a very different mood from when he had first showed up.
After this, Arvardan's mental condition clearly improved. He carefully treasured the joy of having a secret club. Every week or two weeks, the five members met. They talked, sang, or listened to Duras tell the story of Nineteen Eighty-Four. Arvardan enjoyed frank exchanges with Artemis a few more times, and occasionally did the same with Duras. Now he had two personas: one was Arvardan, who existed in real life and on the Web, and the other was Wang Er, member of the Talking Club.
At one meeting, Arvardan asked, "Are we the only ones who gather to talk in private in the whole State?"
"It is said that there are some places in the State, far from the Capital and deeply hidden in the mountains, where the truly radical not only gather to talk, but organize for violence. They shout as they rush at the State's agents, and even curse at the firing squads as they are executed," Wagner said.
"Can we join them?" Arvardan asked.
"Only if you are willing to give up your safe and still-comfortable life. The radicals live in places so desolate that except for free speech there is nothing else, not even enough clean water," Wagner said, a little coldly.
Arvardan flinched and did not pursue the topic further. He certainly desired talk, but not to the point where he was willing to give up all that he had, little though it was. Distilled water was still better than no water. The Talking Club provided sufficient nourishment to sustain the dried husk of his spirit. Bottom line: he was easily satisfied.
At another meeting, the topic of conversation turned to sensitive words. Arvardan remembered that long ago—his memory was growing hazy—the appropriate authorities had actually issued a List of Sensitive Words. People who ran the various Web sites were told to refer to it secretly in administering the sites. He was not sure how that system had evolved into the present one. That day, Wagner brought a bottle of wine for the occasion and was in good spirits. He explained to them the history of the "shielding" system. As a Web Regulator, he had access to the historical records for this process.
Initially, the State only shielded certain sensitive words, but the State quickly discovered that this was essentially useless. Many simply mixed in special characters or numbers or misspelled words to get around the inspection system. The appropriate authorities had to respond by trying to shield these variant spellings. But, as everyone knew, the combinations of different characters to approximate the appearance of different words were virtually limitless. Provided you had some imagination, it was always possible to come up with a novel combination and get your meaning across. For example, the word "politics" could be written as "polit/cs," "政itics," "pol/itic$," etc., etc.
After the appropriate authorities finally caught on to the problem, they took a new tack. Since it was not possible to filter out all possible combinations of characters that might spell out a word, the solution was to forbid the use of anything except real dictionary words. This procedure was initially very successful. The number of rule-violators went down significantly. But very soon people discovered it was possible to use puns, homonyms, or rhyming slang to continue to express the same dangerous ideas. Even if the appropriate authorities filtered out all sensitive words and all possible puns and homonyms with those words, it was useless. Imaginative citizens gave their creativity free rein, and used metaphor, metonymy, analogy, etymology, rhyming slang, and other rhetorical tricks to substitute non-sensitive words for sensitive ones. The human mind was far more creative than the computer. The computer might shield off one path, but the people had many more paths to choose from.
This contest, under the surface, seemed to go the way of the people. But then, a man who could think outside the box appeared. It was unclear who he really was: some said that he was the chief administrator at the appropriate authorities; others said that he was a dangerous man who had been arrested for using too many sensitive words. He was the cause of the turn in the tide of the battle between the State and the people.
He suggested to the appropriate authorities that the regulations should no longer explain what was forbidden. Instead, the regulations should set forth what could be said, and how to say it. The appropriate authorities immediately took this advice, and issued new regulations. The List of Sensitive Words was eliminated, and in its place was the List of Healthy Words.
This time, the people were on the losing side. In the past, they had delighted in playing cat-and-mouse games with the appropriate authorities on the Web and in daily life. But now the appropriate authorities had them by the throat, since the entire framework and building blocks of language were now under their control.
Nonetheless, the people refused to give up. They began to select words from the List of Healthy Words and use them in novel combinations to express illegal meanings. For example, writing "stabilize" twice in a row meant "topple," "stabilize" plus "prosperity" meant "shield." The appropriate authorities had to keep an eye on this sort of trend, and, day after day, eliminate more and more words from the List of Healthy Words to prevent their use in these new roles.
"So long as the world even contained two words or even two letters, then it would be possible to continue the free exchange of ideas—you know Morse code?"
Wagner paused, drained his cup, and gave a satisfied burp.
"But, the price for this war is the loss of language. Our ability to express ourselves continues to get poorer, and more dry and banal. More and more, people will choose silence. But this is a good thing as far as the appropriate authorities are concerned." Lancelot had a worried expression on his face, and rhythmically knocked against the desk. "If you think about it, isn't it the people's desire for freedom the very thing that's pushing language to the edge of death? Ironic, isn't it? The appropriate authorities will have the last laugh."
"No, no. They will not understand the emotion behind laughter," Wagner said.
"Actually, I think the appropriate authorities have always operated in a state of fear. They are terrified that people will have the use of too many words, and express too many thoughts, making their control difficult," Artemis put on the stiff, cold expression she wore for work, and imitated the common speech pattern: "Let us build a healthy and stable Web!"
Duras, Lancelot, and Wagner all burst into laughter. The only one who didn't laugh was Arvardan. He was stuck on the last thing Lancelot had said: in the war between the people and the appropriate authorities, the final conclusion was the death of language. Then the Talking Club was nothing more than a chance to enjoy the brief, final quiet moment that came from pulling shut the curtains on the windows of a train speeding toward the edge of a cliff.
Duras could not attend the frank exchange phase of the Talking Club that time because it was her time of the month, and she left early. Artemis washed the cups and smiled at the three men: "Should we try a three-on-one?"
Lancelot patted Arvardan on the shoulder. "I have some things I want to discuss with Wang Er. We'll stay here a bit." Artemis took Wagner to the other bedroom. Arvardan was confused, unsure of what Lancelot wanted.
Lancelot sat back on the couch. The engineer's expression became serious. "Wagner has told you about the radical organizations?"
Arvardan nodded.
"What do you think of them?"
"I admire them. But I'm not sure if it's necessary to go that far. Men cannot live on words alone." Although Arvardan had never been to the mountains, he had heard plenty about their desolation.
Lancelot laughed bitterly and drained the coffee cup in front of him. "I was once a member of the radicals. But now I'm a deserter."
Arvardan stared at him.
"In the beginning, I had lots of ideals. I went to the mountains and joined them. But when the rush of freedom had passed, what followed was only constant deprivation and suffering. I wavered and finally abandoned my friends, snuck back to the Capital, and now I hide in a girl's bedroom, chat, fuck, and drink coffee, and say I'm satisfied with my life."
"You regret leaving?"
"My regret is not what's important." Lancelot handed a piece of paper to him. The paper was thin, light, and had a single address written on it.
"Memorize it and swallow the paper," Lancelot said. "This is how you get to the mountains and get in touch with them. If you change your mind about your life, you can go any time."
"Have you given this to the others too?"
"No. The Talking Club is enough for the rest of us. But something is different about you. You remind me a lot of the younger me. Though you look quiet, inside you there is a dangerous spark. I have lost the ambition and the will to change the world, but I do not want to see everyone become like me."
"But I—"
"You don't need to promise me anything. This is only an option, that's all."
After returning home from the Talking Club, Arvardan lay on his cot with his hands under his head, and sank into thought. He was infatuated with Artemis and could not help himself. Arvardan envied Winston from Duras's telling of Nineteen Eighty-Four. He and Julia had their own room, a world that belonged only to the two of them.
(He also thought about what Lancelot had said to him about the radicals, but soon he put it out of his mind—the image of radicals hiding in the mountains was simply not as alluring as the body of Artemis.)
Once, when he was engaging in a "frank exchange" with Artemis, he had revealed his thoughts to her. She didn't answer him directly, but only said that the relationship between them could not go beyond what they had—the limit of what was possible. The appropriate authorities would not be napping forever. "We can only compress our emotional lives into the weekly meetings of the Talking Club. It's already a great luxury," she said, as she gently stroked his chest. "In the Talking Club, we are Artemis and Wang Er. But any other time, you are ARVARDAN19842015BNKF, and I am ALICE19387465BJHD."
Arvardan could only sigh in response. He really shouldn't have asked for more.
Along with his emotions, the Web also changed. Ever since he had joined the Talking Club, Arvardan had gradually begun noticing some of the hidden aspects of the Web. Just as Wagner had said, the war between the people and the appropriate authorities never ended. Always, thought and speech leaked from the cracks.
Arvardan noticed that within the formulaic emails and BBS forum posts were hidden many details that were worth paying attention to, just like his "title." There were all kinds of codes and hidden meanings. These puzzles came from different individuals, and the format and decoding technique differed for each. Arvardan didn't know what was hidden behind some of the codes, but one thing was certain: the Talking Club was not the only underground gathering. Wagner was right: always, individuals were attempting to use "healthy" words to express "unhealthy" thoughts.
In the past, Arvardan had only vaguely felt that he was being constrained, but now he could see clearly the pulsing arteries and veins of this system, and the various tricks played on him by the appropriate authorities. The freedom that he enjoyed at the Talking Club only made him even more aware of the lack of freedom in his life.
"Fuck you, you sonovabitch!"
At every meeting, the three male members would shout this curse out loud. They understood very well that this had no effect on the appropriate authorities, but they loved the feeling the curse brought them.
One week, Arvardan was particularly busy. His colleague, for unknown reasons, had been shielded. This meant that the whole project fell on his shoulders. The project involved designing a piece of software, for the appropriate authorities, which would be used to control the energy distribution for a new, high-powered, active Listener. (It was unusual for Arvardan to be told this much, but since his colleague was gone, his superiors had to give him the bigger picture.) The software was complex, and he had to spend more than twelve hours a day working in front of the computer, only pausing to eat, take a drink of distilled water, or nap briefly on his cot when his body could no longer take the abuse. His room was filled with the stench of sweaty socks and shirts.
Coincidentally, the heating system in his room failed. The grey radiators became ice cold and no longer circulated hot water. Arvardan checked them and realized the problem wasn't with the pipes. Since his neighbors were suffering the same fate, it meant that the heating system was failing as a whole. The one positive effect of this failure was that it reduced the stench in his room. The negative effect, however, was that his room turned into an ice cellar. The low temperature covered everything in the already-uncomfortable room with an additional layer of frost. The only source of warmth in the room was the computer. Arvardan put on all his winter clothes, crawled into bed, and pointed the exhaust fans of the computer towards him.
The appropriate authorities decided that "heat" and "furnace" and other similar words were also temporarily sensitive words, so Arvardan had no way of drafting a complaint to the heating supply agencies. All he could do was to wait quietly. Other than his fingers moving over the keyboard, he tried to remain very still, so as to conserve body heat. On the fourth day after the heating system failed, the radiators finally began to clatter and rattle with the sound of hot water flowing through them. The room warmed up again, and "heat" and "furnace" and similar words returned to the List of Healthy Words. So emails and BBS forum posts were filled with sentiments like "We congratulate the appropriate authorities for restoring heat so quickly to bring warmth to the people in need!" and "The people's government loves the people!" etc.
But this was too late for Arvardan. He fell sick with a cold, a terrible cold. His head hurt as though someone had shot a dumdum bullet into his skull. All he could do was to lie on his bed and wait for the doctor. The doctor arrived at his home, put him on an IV, gave him some nameless pills, and told him to rest. This sickness lasted several days, and he had to give up that week's Talking Club meeting. His body just wasn't up for it, and Arvardan thought he was going to die.
Arvardan lay on his bed, filled with regret. The Talking Club was his only joy in life, and now he couldn't even go. He covered his head with his blanket and thought, Would Wagner bring something special to the meeting this time? Would Lancelot bring his two children? And Artemis…. If Arvardan weren't there, who would she have a "frank exchange" with? Wagner or Lancelot? He also thought about Duras. At the last meeting, Duras had reached the point in the story where Winston told Julia, in their secret meeting room, "We are the dead." Julia also said, "We are the dead." And a third voice then said, "You are the dead."
Duras had stopped when she got to this point. Arvardan had desperately wanted to know that happened next. Who was the third voice? Was it the Party? Would Winston and Julia be arrested? What was going to happen to them?
"Let it be a cliffhanger," Artemis said to him. "Then the whole next week our lives will be spent in the joy of anticipation." And then the two went back to the joy of frankly exchanging.
Arvardan's sickness lasted ten days before he recovered. The first thing he did after he felt well enough was to get up and look at the calendar on the wall. Today was Sunday, a Talking Club meeting day. Arvardan had missed one meeting, and he felt like a man dying of starvation. Even in his sleep he dreamed of talking at the Talking Club.
Arvardan washed his face and carefully shaved off his thick stubble with a rusty razor. He brushed his teeth and smoothed down his bed hair with a towel and some warm water. Due to his sickness, the appropriate authorities had issued him some extra supplies, including two croissants, two ginger beers, and a packet of fine sugar. He wrapped these carefully in a plastic bag, and put the package inside his coat pocket to bring to the Talking Club to share with everyone.
Arvardan got off the bus, felt for the package hidden inside his coat, and walked towards the Simpson Tower. Halfway there, he lifted his head, and an icy chill seized his heart, forcing him to stop in his tracks.
Something was very wrong.
He looked up to the fifth floor. Before, the window from Artemis's apartment that faced the street had been covered by pink curtains, but now the curtains were pulled to the sides, and the window was wide open. If there was a meeting of the Talking Club today, Artemis would never have left the shielding curtains open. And keeping the windows open was odd, period. In the Capital, the air outside was terribly murky. No one would have opened the windows to let in "fresh air."
There was no Talking Club today. Something else was going on. Arvardan stared at the window, and his heart began to beat furiously. He took his hand out of his pocket, put a cigarette in his mouth, then leaned against a utility pole, and forced himself to be calm so as not to raise the suspicion of passing pedestrians. Suddenly he saw something that made him almost faint. A single idea filled his mind.
"There would be no meeting of the Talking Club this week. There will never be a meeting again," he mumbled to himself, his face the color of ashes.
He saw a contraption that looked like a radar dish, hidden in a corner on this side of the street. Arvardan knew exactly what this was. It was what he had been designing the software for: the new, high-powered, active Listener. The device was capable of sending out active electromagnetic waves to capture vibrations made by voices against walls and windows from a distance, and examine such speech for sensitive words.
If such a device had been installed right near Artemis's home, then that meant the Talking Club was completely exposed to the view of the appropriate authorities. The active Listener's penetrating waves would easily pierce through the lead curtains, and transmit the Club members' words verbatim to the ears of the appropriate authorities.
This invention defined a new era. The appropriate authorities no longer had to wait passively for warnings. Instead, they could at any time actively inspect any speech made by anyone. Arvardan could easily imagine what had happened next. Everything that Artemis and the others said was recorded by the appropriate authorities. Then the police broke into her apartment and arrested all the members of the Talking Club who were present. After they conducted a search, all that was left was the empty room and the empty windows.
Arvardan felt a knife was being twisted in his heart. He did not think that he was fortunate to have escaped capture. His stomach churned, and nausea rose from his stomach to his mouth. He wanted to vomit, but he couldn't—"vomit" was itself a sensitive word. His body, only just recovered, could not take the hit. He began to shake as though he was suffering chills.
He dared not continue forward. He turned around, boarded another bus, and shut his mouth even tighter. When Arvardan returned to his own building, he saw that another active Listener was being installed nearby. The dark antenna extended into the sky, and along with the other antennas around the Capital, it wove an invisible, giant Web in the sky that covered everything.
He dared not stop to look. Keeping his head low, he walked past the active Listener, and returned home without stopping. Then he hid his face in the pillow, but dared not cry out loud. He couldn't even say, "Fuck you, you sonovabitch."
After that, Arvardan's life returned to normal—just like before, it was stagnant, restrained, passionless, healthy, and without any vulgar joys. Lancelot had said that the result of the war was that the people's desire for freedom would push language to the edge of death. The death of the Talking Club led to the deletion of "talking," "opera," "frank," and "exchange" from the List of Healthy Words.
Although it was still possible to use numbers, the number "1984" was shielded. One morning, without any warning, Arvardan was simply assigned a new Web Access Serial that no longer contained that string of numerals. This also meant that programmers like Arvardan had to constantly ensure that their programs did not compute illegal numbers. This added greatly to the workload, and Arvardan was even more exhausted.
What happened later in Nineteen Eighty-Four Arvardan would never know. Duras, the only one who did know, had disappeared completely. So what happened to Winston and Julia would forever be a mystery: like the fate of Lancelot, Wagner, Duras, and Artemis.
He worried the most about Artemis. Every time he thought of that name, Arvardan could not control how depressed he became. What happened to her? Was she completely shielded? If that was the case, then the only trace she left in this world would be a pseudonym in the memory of a programmer.
Three weeks after the disappearance of the Talking Club, everything remained calm. No one came after Arvardan. He thought maybe it was because the others had refused to give up any information about him. Or maybe it was because they didn't really know who he was—the person they knew was a programmer named Wang Er. In the Capital there were thousands of programmers, and Wang Er was just a pseudonym.
Life went on peacefully. No, to be precise, there was one bit of difference. That would be the List of Healthy Words: words disappeared from it at a faster and faster pace. Every hour, every minute, words vanished from it. As the pace of revision for the List quickened, emails and BBS forum posts became more and more vapid and banal. Since people had to use an extremely limited set of words to express an inexpressibly wide range of thoughts, everyone more and more preferred silence. Even the secret codes and hidden clues became fewer.
One day, Arvardan lifted his head from the computer. He stared at the grey, hazy sky outside the window, and his chest spasmed. He coughed in pain, and drained the distilled water from his cup. He threw the disposable plastic cup into the trashcan, also made of plastic. Listening to the dull sound of plastic hitting plastic, he thought his own brain was also filled with a pile of trash. He rapped his knuckles against his skull. Indeed, the same empty dull sound came out.
He put on his coat and filtering mask and walked out the door. He did not wear a portable Listener because it was no longer necessary. The Capital was filled with active Listeners, ever vigilant for the presence of sensitive words. The entire Capital now was just like the Web, healthy and stable.
Arvardan had a legitimate excuse for going outside. He had decided to turn in his permit for BBS service. It was no longer necessary to use this service. Email, BBS forums, Web sites—everything was now the same.
The calendar said it was spring, but outside it was still very cold. Tall, grey buildings stood like a forest of stone in absolute zero. Gusts of wind carrying yellow sand and polluting exhaust gas rushed between them and filled every available space, making it impossible for anyone to escape their suffocating presence. Arvardan put his hands in his pockets, shrank into his coat, and continued to the building for the Department of Web Security.
Suddenly, he stopped, his feet frozen in place, incapable of movement. He saw Artemis, standing under the street light before him and wearing a black uniform. But what a change had come over her! She seemed at least ten years older, her face full of wrinkles. There was none of the vitality of youth left in her. She heard his steps, turned around, and her dark eyes seemed especially empty. She stared past Arvardan into the distance, without focus.
Arvardan had never expected to meet her at this time in this place. His heart, long dormant, now was lit by a few sparks. But his dull and exhausted nerves were incapable of feeling the simple emotion of "excitement." The two stared at each other for a while. He finally walked next to her, and tentatively moved his lips, as though he wanted to say something to her. But when he took out the latest edition of the List of Healthy Words distributed earlier that day, he found it was empty—even the last word had been shielded by the appropriate authorities.
An address flashed in his mind—luckily, it was not yet possible to shield the mind with technology. Perhaps it was now time to take a trip to the mountains. He had nothing more to lose.
Someone has to do this.
And so, Arvardan maintained his silence. He passed by the expressionless Artemis, and continued his forward progress. His silhouette eventually melted into the equally quiet, grey crowd.
The whole city seemed especially silent.
First published in Chinese in a slightly different form in the December 2005 issue of Science Fiction World.
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Faithful priests are too busy… What do I do? How can I find a spiritual director?
May 27, 2010 by Dan Burke
Filed under Dan Burke, Finding a Director, Spiritual Direction
Dear Dan, My director is a wonderful, caring person but is also quite a bit less inclined to follow the magisterium than I am. I wish I had the opportunity to see a faithful priest from time to time. I have tried hard to find a priest willing to provide me with spiritual direction (especially now, as I am going through some severe moral crises and sufferings); however, I have been turned down repeatedly because they are too busy to meet with any individuals, especially if it would be for more than one brief meeting. This appears to be a serious problem: if a priest is too busy to give spiritual and moral guidance to a faithful follower who is facing grave hardship, then that priest is TOO busy. Why do priests seem to regard spiritual direction as an unreasonable burden?
I would begin by saying that not all priests regard spiritual direction as a burden. Many priests that I know consider it one of their main priorities. In fact, after celebrating the sacraments and preaching the Word, it is one of the best ways that a priest has to help others. And perhaps herein we find one possible reason for your experience that priests just don't have time: they may have many Masses to celebrate (especially on Sundays) and multiple confessions to hear, especially if we reflect on the fact that most priests help out in at least one other parish than their own on a regular basis. When you throw in the preaching that must be prepared, the time begins to add up. The biggest burden for the priest, however, is usually parish administration. Before being ordained, he probably does not realize the amount of time this will pilfer from his apostolate and, in many cases, how much worry it will cause. All of this may leave him wary about taking on more and more stable commitments. But enough about reasons or excuses; there are many more than I mention here – objective as well as subjective ones.
The fact remains that spiritual direction is a vital help and you have not been able to find a priest director. This must be very frustrating. You are not alone in this challenge.
Aside from giving you insight into the burden most priests carry, another way I can think to assist you is to point out a few options for finding a director that you may not have considered. Here are a few ideas:
- Your Diocesan Office: There are several types of leads you can find by calling your diocese. First, they can point you to those known for spiritual direction in your area. Second, they can also point you to religious orders or retreat centers in your area. Also, don't hesitate to venture beyond your own diocesan boundaries if the list of options runs too short. Don't hesitate to consider a well-trained and experienced lay person as an option as well.
- Priests/Confessors in Your Parish or Surrounding Parishes: If you have found a good confessor, someone who has been particularly helpful to you with advice or dialogue during or after confession, don't hesitate to ask them one simple question: "I would be grateful if I could follow up with you on this matter in the near future; can I call you for an appointment?"
- Faithful Catholic Affiliation Groups: If you have groups in your diocese like Catholic Scripture Study, Catholics United for the Faith, ENDOW, Walking with Purpose, or other solid groups, begin attending their meetings and connecting with people who take their faith seriously.
An important thing to remember is that this might be a long process and if you are called to it, you need to maintain your commitment for as long as it takes. Our God knows your needs and desires to bring you closer to himself, and he will do so as long as you keep striving and stumbling towards him. Sometimes the painstaking search for an orthodox director is just as important to the process as spiritual direction itself.
A semi-shortcut through this maze can be found in the many faithful movements and orders within the Church. Those that have maintained a solid grip on magisterial faithful Catholicism often provide means for their members to deepen their faith in many helpful ways, including spiritual direction. Essentially, when approaching these organizations we are looking to adopt a rule of life. That is, we are looking for a specific spiritual path that can help to focus our spiritual disciplines and practice of virtue. Often these organizations follow the fruitful paths of the saints who founded them (like Saint Francis and the Franciscans) or those who played significant roles within them (like Saint John of the Cross in the Carmelite order). Obviously, becoming a third-order or lay Carmelite or Franciscan is a serious commitment. However, for those who take their faith seriously, these commitments have benefits that far outweigh any related challenges.
To be clear, it is not necessary to become a cloistered nun or a hermit to reap the benefits of these beautiful gifts to the Church. Most of them have lay organizations for people just like you. A few good examples of more recent spiritualities that have emerged in the Church are Apostles of the Interior Life (www.apostlesofil.org), Opus Dei (www.opusdei.org), and Regnum Christi (www.regnumchristi.org). The constitutions or canonical provisions of these and many more are approved either by the Holy See or local bishops, and the direction they provide for the spiritual life can be of enormous spiritual value. You can contact these organizations via their Web sites to find information about activities in your area.
Spiritual direction is making a comeback in the Church, and seminary formation programs are rediscovering its tremendous value. Hopefully, little by little the challenges that we are facing in this area will be a thing of the past. Don't get discouraged. The obstacles you are facing might be the very thing you need right now to deepen your faith. Christ is at work in you. Yield to that work and continue to strive to know him.
About Dan Burke
Dan is the founder of Catholic Spiritual Direction, the Avila Institute for Spiritual Formation, and author of the award winning book, Navigating the Interior Life - Spiritual Direction and the Journey to God. Beyond his "contagious" love for Jesus and His Church, he is a grateful husband and father of four, the Executive Director of and writer for EWTN's National Catholic Register, a regular co-host on Register Radio, a writer and speaker who provides online spiritual formation and travels to share his conversion story and the great riches that the Church provides us through authentic Catholic spirituality. Dan has been featured on EWTN's Journey Home program and numerous radio programs.
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I have so many other stories of harassment. For instance, when I was seventeen (years ago), a friend and I were followed out to my car by a man working at Home Depot (who had approached us in the store, and checked us out back by the tires away from everyone else….. already creepy. He was much older and way bigger). He asked how old we were, we answered 17, and he then asked when our birthdays were. When we told him we had just turned 17, he paused and said, "Well…. I mean, if you girls ever want to hang out, just holler at me."
Things like that happen a lot. And lesser incidents like being whistled or kissed at from a moving car (whether or not I'm walking with a group or a boyfriend, regardless of dress) happen even more often (just last night, actually).
But what made me want to post was a conversation I had with my current boyfriend tonight. We were at a pizza place and I went to go to the bathroom. While passing the men's room, I heard two guys talking. "Aw man, the line is longer than the women's room!" "Well, men are smarter than women, so…" I missed the rest, and I may be overreacting but the tone of his voice… it sounded like he meant it. And whether he did or not, it reminded me that there are men who truly believe that they are more intelligent than all women simply by the virtue of their penis. It bothered me, and when I told my boyfriend about it, he sort of blew me off and dismissed it. "I'm sure he was just joking," etc.
Later, he asked what was wrong and I explained that it seemed that every time I bring up an instance of sexism or objectification, he doesn't take me seriously and seems to think I'm making it up (this has happened before). I assured him that I wasn't. And actually, he understood and apologized. We continued talking and I said, "I have had hatred thrown my way before, but most of what I have to deal with is the kind of sexism that is patronizing, objectifying, dismissive, perv bullshit. But the thing about that is… It's a weird thing – trying to be tough and strong while knowing that there are men twice my size who, if they wanted to, could throw me across a room or punch me out and take advantage of me. And I can fight, and I would, but I can't deny the difference in physical strength. And when I am objectified, it disturbs me. If they don't see me as human, what's to stop them from doing those things?"
(sidetrack: I just caught myself thinking, "If I were stronger, I guess I wouldn't have to worry as much." WTF!? I am 5'0″ and around 110 lbs. I'm in pretty good shape, and I'm fairly muscular. Still, there is only so much I can do for my size. But what bothers me about my thought is the whole "might makes right" mentality that I was JUST guilty of, even though I'm so opposed to it. "Oh, if I were stronger, I'd be safe." As if we're animals. Just because a man is stronger than me, that does not give him the right to use that against me. It shouldn't be about me fending a man off, it shouldn't even be an issue in the first place. Why is he bothering me at all? You can't logically promote the idea that men are more intelligent/rational/capable than women (you know us gals and our periods) and then at the same time suggest that they (men) are so overcome by their irrational, savage, animal instincts at the sight of a woman's [insert body part, depending where you are] that they can't help but commit a rape. Not only is it misogynist, it lacks consistency and just doesn't even make any fucking sense. Anyway…)
I think tonight helped him get a better idea of why I take things like this seriously. He's a good guy and I know he wants to treat others with the respect they deserve. He just needed to hear me articulate what bothered me. I know a lot of men like this – men who just need to hear the women in their lives explain why sexism/objectification is so disturbing to us. Thank you, Hollaback, for providing a venue.
We are so strong. Let's use our strength to build a world where we don't need physical strength to feel safe. Donate to our "I've Got Your Back" campaign today.
Author comments are in a darker gray color for you to easily identify the posts author in the comments
"You can't logically promote the idea that men are more intelligent/rational/capable than women (you know us gals and our periods) and then at the same time suggest that they (men) are so overcome by their irrational, savage, animal instincts at the sight of a woman's [insert body part, depending where you are] that they can't help but commit a rape. "
Could you maybe explain that, very slowly, using small words, to cartoonist Scott Adams? He doesn't seem to do well with big words or long sentences, unless he's defending being his own sock puppet on other forums.


text:
White Sox GM Rick Hahn is in no hurry to make more moves
By Daryl Van Schouwen Staff Reporter December 7, 2013 1:22AM
Perhaps the biggest name general manager Rick Hahn might still pursue is free-agent center fielder Shin-Soo Choo. | AP
Article Extras
Updated: January 9, 2014 6:49AM
The flurry of activity during the week leading into the winter meetings made your head spin.
But it didn't affect the stone-faced White Sox, who sat silently until agreeing to a one-year deal with relief pitcher Ronald Belisario.
That's a far cry from the clamor of $240 million for Robinson Cano (Mariners) or $60 million for Curtis Granderson (Mets), and it spoke volumes about the Sox' plans to clean up after that "losing ugly" 99-loss mess of 2013. By first outbidding numerous teams for $68 million Cuban first baseman Jose Abreu and then taking something of a chance on the talented but sometimes troubled Belisario, Hahn stuck to his blueprint for building for long-term success while filling a bullpen need.
The Sox figure to be in a better position to contend in 2015 than '14, but they keep touting their young pitching staff led by two-time All-Star and Cy Young candidate Chris Sale as reason one for not writing off '13.
"Let's put it this way,'' said Hahn, who enters his second winter meetings as the GM. "There is nobody, with the possible exceptions of [chairman] Jerry [Reinsdorf] and [vice president] Kenny [Williams] who is as eager — or potentially impatient — to try to continue to add to what we've done to retool this roster and get things back to where we think they need to be.''
Abreu and budding star outfielder Avisail Garcia get them closer but not there. Hahn said it challenged his patience watching free-agent signings and trades scroll down Twitter last week. It made him want to make deals.
"But we cannot force moves,'' he said. "We don't get any extra wins or runs or anything for getting something done in December versus January. They have to be the right fits for the long term.''
Not that nobody is calling.
"We've been popular,'' Hahn said. "We've been popular about some of our young position players as well that we're not eager to move. But certainly the majority of the calls have been about our pitching.''
The Sox won't trade Sale. Nobody seems likely to part with the bounty it will take to make Hahn part with him. But young lefties Hector Santiago and Jose Quintana, veteran lefty John Danks and promising right-hander Erik Johnson have varying degrees of value if dealing from strength makes sense.
A catching tandem of Tyler Flowers (signed to a one-year deal last week) and Josh Phegley wasn't good enough last year, and it likely won't be again. Tampa Bay has three catchers, making switch-hitting but weak-throwing Jose Lobaton expendable.
There's room for upgrades at third base and the outfield. A source said the Sox have shown interest in 29-year-old Padres third baseman Chase Headley, although indications are the Padres might wait until midseason to shop him. He becomes a free agent after next season, so he wouldn't make much sense unless he could be locked up long term.
The Sox prefer flying under the radar, and this is a long shot, but there are those who wouldn't be stunned if Hahn came out of the woodwork to make a bid for center fielder Shin-Soo Choo. Reinsdorf did say there's room on a payroll projecting below $90 million (it was $112 million last season), but doing business with Choo's agent, Scott Boras, might be prohibitive.
Sox fans hoping to have their heads spun have fingers crossed but aren't holding their breath.
"Given the pitching we have we aren't writing off any season,'' Hahn said. "So the notion that we should just get younger for the sake of getting younger even if that makes us worse is not something we're quite ready to accept here, given that our pitching gives us a chance to contend if things go right and we make some other changes to the roster over the coming months.''


text:
West Ham United Ladies endured another frustrating afternoon in the FA Women's Premier League Southern Division, as they were held to a 1-1 draw at home to relegation-threatened Queens Park Rangers.
Bottom-club Rangers hit the front after just nine minutes, when Sophie Fogarty collected Elly Magg's cross, before finishing emphatically. It was a lead they would cling on to until the latter stages of the contest, as the visitors went in search of a second away win in succession.
However, parity was restored with 78 minutes on the clock, courtesy of midfielder Lindsey Morgan's sixth goal of the campaign.
Sadly a winner was not forthcoming and West Ham's winless sequence in the league now stands at four. Ironically, the point lifts the Hammers into third, above Brighton and Hove Albion, but sees them lose further ground at the top.
With frontrunners Millwall Lionesses and second-placed Reading both winning, the Royals are now a considerable eleven points clear of West Ham.
For the R's, meanwhile, their battle to beat the drop continues. Though the draw at Thurrock FC's Ship Lane extends their run unbeaten to four, they remain rooted to the foot of the table, three points adrift of Tottenham Hotspur and safety.
The Hammers travel to Brighton on Sunday for a 2pm kick-off in their next FA Women's Premier League Southern Division fixture.


text:
The competitive advantages and user appeal of electronic consumer products such as smartphones depends to a large extent on the quality of sensor solutions. For high volume, high quality sensor production, microelectromechanical system (MEMS) technology keeps costs at an acceptable level.
VTT clients minimize risks and shorten development times by exploiting the intellectual property that we have generated over the years. VTT has extensive experience in technology transfer and licensing, and customers often make use of our VTT Memsfab contract manufacturing services. We can also transfer manufacturing processes to external fabricators at any point for high-volume production.
MEMS microphone
The mobile phone marketplace is now looking for microphones with an improved signal-to-noise ratio of over 66 decibels (dB). This ratio is needed in order to improve the user audio experience by including active noise cancellation solutions.
VTT has developed a new MEMS microphone technology particularly suited for such high-end applications requiring a signal-to-noise ratio of over 66 dB. The new technology is just as durable as existing MEMS microphone technology thanks to similar processes such as SMD soldering in a reflow oven. In addition, the new microphone has excellent tolerance against electromagnetic interference (EMI), which translates into flexibility of design in products such as smartphones.
Electronic compass based on a 3D MEMS magnetometer
VTT's new MEMS-based magnetometer has several uses. It can be used as an electronic compass in smartphones and PDAs to provide orientation information for digital maps, and it can also be used to measure viewing angle alignment for digital camera picture taking.
MEMS-based magnetometer advantages include:
MEMS pressure sensor-based Altimeter
Altimeters provide altitude information by measuring air pressure. VTT has developed a low-cost manufacturing technology for altimeters. The technology is available for licensing and technology transfer.
Advantages of the VTT altimeter technology include:
VTT's MEMS altimeter technology can also form part of tyre pressure monitoring systems (TPMS), as well as other systems and products.
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From: WIP
"Oh, you must be the new student," the teacher said in a soft voice. She was a gentle looking woman in her early forties. "Class, this is Orlando Holmes." That immediately got the entire room's attention. "Tait, could you please get him caught up while I continue?"
He opened his mouth to point out that he had no idea who Tait was, but then noticed a wave from a girl with long, blonde, curly, hair who reminded him of every other stereotyped ditz on the planet he'd ever met. Complete with a cute cheerleading uniform which barely covered her midriff, and a bouncing high ponytail. He sat in the empty desk behind her and waited to hear what profound things this girl could possibly share with him.
"She teaches straight from the book. You can borrow mine if you want, but all you have to do is read and do the busy work and you should have an A. I mean, assuming you know how to do basic math," she whispered.
"Only when I'm wearing sandals," he mumbled as he pulled out a notebook and a pen from his back pack. She stared at him. "You see that means I can only do math when I can -."
"See your toes, I followed," she finished for him. "I was just trying to decide if it would be worth my time to laugh or ignore you."
"Ignoring would probably be wiser."
"Oh, you're one of those types huh? Loner, nobody understands me, and I just want to survive this one day at a time?" She pulled out her text book and flipped it open to the chapter they were currently being lectured on. "Here." She stared back towards the front.
He rolled his eyes. "That's rude you know. You can't just say something like that and end the conversation. I mean, if we went and based everything we know about each other simply by how we're dressed I'd make sure all my words had one syllable and accompanied them with a visual aide of a cute baby farm animal. Even then, you'd still have no idea what I was saying, and yet, look at you still following the conversation so well."
"Point taken," she said.
He smirked and leaned back so he could doodle and daydream for the remainder of the hour. On occasion he would stare at the back of Tait's head, knowing full well she could feel his eyes on her and loving how it made her tense up, as if in anticipation.


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Justin Website
Thursday, 15 March 2012
Hope That Glen Campbell Receive Another
What do you think of these thanks so much misstaintedlove. for you, i hope that you don t receive another letter from said dh but if you do, send map guy to his office so he can stamp the dh face, take a photo of it and tweet it to the world x. tax, tax tax and you wonder why we have a bad economy and businesses move out of the country really. itunes imedia is going to make all sorts of content including newspaper and magazine subscriptions available for download and move the world to digital content consumption. burkie Glen Campbell hung up, after whining like a little school-girl about being ambushed.
Category: Glen Campbell
posted by Justin at Thursday, 15 March 2012 >0 comments


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Addicted to the apocalypseOctober 26,2013Once upon a time, walking around shouting The end is nigh got you labeled a kook, someone not to be taken seriously. These days, however, all the best people go around warning of looming disaster. In fact, you more or less have to subscribe to fantasies of fiscal apocalypse to be considered respectable.
And I do mean fantasies. Washington has spent the past three-plus years in terror of a debt crisis that keeps not happening, and, in fact, cant happen to a country like the United States, which has its own currency and borrows in that currency. Yet the scaremongers cant bring themselves to let go.
Consider, for example, Stanley Druckenmiller, the billionaire investor, who has lately made a splash with warnings about the burden of our entitlement programs. (Gee, why hasnt anyone else thought of making that point?) He could talk about the problems we may face a decade or two down the road. But, no. He seems to feel that he must warn about the looming threat of a financial crisis worse than 2008.
Or consider the deficit-scold organization Fix the Debt, led by the omnipresent Alan Simpson and Erskine Bowles. It was, I suppose, predictable that Fix the Debt would respond to the latest budget deal with a news release trying to shift the focus to its favorite subject. But the organization wasnt content with declaring that Americas long-run budget issues remain unresolved, which is true. It had to warn that continuing to delay confronting our debt is letting a fire burn that could get out of control at any moment.
As Ive already suggested, there are two remarkable things about this kind of doomsaying. One is that the doomsayers havent rethought their premises despite being wrong again and again perhaps because the news media continue to treat them with immense respect. The other is that as far as I can tell nobody, and I mean nobody, in the looming-apocalypse camp has tried to explain exactly how the predicted disaster would actually work.
On the Chicken Little aspect: Its actually awesome, in a way, to realize how long cries of looming disaster have filled our airwaves and op-ed pages. For example, I just reread an op-ed article by Alan Greenspan in The Wall Street Journal, warning that our budget deficit will lead to soaring inflation and interest rates. What about the reality of low inflation and low rates? That, he declares in the article, is regrettable, because it is fostering a sense of complacency.
Its curious how readily people who normally revere the wisdom of markets declare the markets all wrong when they fail to panic the way theyre supposed to. But the really striking thing at this point is the date: Greenspans article was published in June 2010, almost three and a half years ago and both inflation and interest rates remain low.
So has the ex-Maestro reconsidered his views after having been so wrong for so long? Not a bit. His new (and pretty bad) book declares that the bias toward unconstrained deficit spending is our top domestic economic problem.
Meanwhile, about that oft-prophesied, never-arriving debt crisis: In Senate testimony more than two and half years ago, Bowles warned that we were likely to face a fiscal crisis within around two years, and he urged his listeners to just stop for a minute and think about what happens if our bankers in Asia stop buying our debt. But has he, or anyone in his camp, actually tried to think through what would happen? No, not really. They just assume it would cause soaring interest rates and economic collapse, when both theory and evidence suggest otherwise.
Dont believe me? Look at Japan, a country that, like America, has its own currency and borrows in that currency, and has much higher debt relative to GDP than we do. Since taking office, Prime Minister Shinzo Abe has, in effect, engineered exactly the kind of loss of confidence the debt worriers fear that is, he has persuaded investors that deflation is over and inflation lies ahead, which reduces the attractiveness of Japanese bonds. And the effects on the Japanese economy have been entirely positive! Interest rates are still low, because people expect the Bank of Japan (the equivalent of our Federal Reserve) to keep them low; the yen has fallen, which is a good thing, because it make Japanese exports more competitive. And Japanese economic growth has actually accelerated.
Why, then, should we fear a debt apocalypse here? Surely, you may think, someone in the debt-apocalypse community has offered a clear explanation. But nobody has.
So the next time you see some serious-looking man in a suit declaring that were teetering on the precipice of fiscal doom, dont be afraid. He and his friends have been wrong about everything so far, and they literally have no idea what theyre talking about.
Paul Krugman is a columnist for The New York Times.MORE IN CommentaryVladimir Putin is caught between a rock and a hard place and his response has been to portray the... Full StoryThe sit-ins, die-ins, marches and other demonstrations sparked by the tragic deaths of Michael... Full StoryMaybe Im just projecting, but Christmas seemed unusually subdued this year. Full Story
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Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Want to Win Moda Precuts?
My friend Glenna of Hollyhock Quilts is cleaning out. And giving away! She has lots of Moda precuts and she giving them out over five days. She is a fabric designer herself and quite a nice pattern designer too. And she's been instrumental in my own fabric design instruction. So go enter!
3 comments :
- gill said...
Thanks for the link Melissa!
I'm off to have a look now
Gill x
- October 5, 2010 at 1:06 PM
- Glenna @ Hollyhock Quilts said...
You are such a sweetheart! Thanks for doing this for me! XOXO
- October 5, 2010 at 2:30 PM
- Lady Farmer said...
Thank you! ;~P
- October 5, 2010 at 3:06 PM
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December 22 2014 Latest news:
Southwold. Picture: Nick Butcher
By BEN WOODS, Business writer
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Traders in East Anglia are closing ranks and taking a united approach to tackling the ongoing challenges facing the high street.
In Southwold and Cromer, businesses have come together to fight dips in footfall and the rise of online shopping by launching marketing campaigns and discount schemes.
As part of an ongoing drive to promote the unique character of Southwold, the chamber of trade has pushed its "My Southwold" scheme that gives shoppers discounts when they shop with independent businesses.
And in north Norfolk, a clutch of businesses have come together to form The East Side Cromer, an association that aims to promote businesses that may have been overlooked by shoppers in the town.
Guy Mitchell, chairman of the Southwold and District Chamber of Trade, said the My Southwold scheme had helped independent businesses to capture sales over the Christmas period.
He said: "In general, Southwold was probably amongst the winners and the losers over Christmas.
"Late November and early December sales were poor with businesses attributing the lower sales to both the internet shopping and poor weather.
"In the period immediately either side of Christmas, however, customers demonstrated strong support for independent businesses. "In contrast to the packed shopping malls of city shopping, smaller towns like Southwold offer a more traditional and relaxed atmosphere enabling people to take time and feel less pressured about shopping and consumers responded well to this.
"Many customers used their My Southwold cards in participating outlets and comments from people made it clear that they valued having the opportunity to browse in smaller shops which provided a different offering to the larger High Street chains."
Meanwhile, The East Side Cromer association hopes to boost awareness of the shops in the town with the launch of an eight-page leaflet circulated to homes and businesses in Mundesley, North Walsham and Aylsham.
Marcus Hickling, who owns Artyfax on Church Street, is one of 15 traders taking part in the scheme.
He said: "To be honest, some traders are in despair at the moment.
"I know that there are businesses that, if the current situation continues, will have to shut. Then we will end up with empty shops.
"It would be easier for some to close their shops and just trade from their websites.
"This is a pattern everywhere."
0 comments
A Norfolk nursery is to expand into new premises to cope with the growing demand from families in its local area.


text: Tired of rebuying Costello's repeatedly repackaged back catalog or pretending to love his new records? Here are some fresh takes on the classics by a dozen-plus indie-rock newbies, who negotiate even his trickiest changes with aplomb. Aside from a surprisingly convincing Brutal Youth number (the Damnations' atmospheric ''Still Too Soon to Know''), it's all primo '70s-'80s stuff, with nods to the undersung Get Happy (Okkervil River's radically bipolar ''Riot Act'') and King of America (twin versions of the love-during-wartime ballad ''Sleep of the Just''). A reminder that Costello still has the richest songbook of his generation. THEIR AIM IS TRUE ''(the angels wanna wear my) Red Shoes'' by alt-country dreamers Hem and ''Alison'' by cranky romantic Vic Chesnutt and friends make overfamiliar tracks just familiar enough.


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I was as appalled as everyone else who saw the video of the seventh grade boys in Rochester, N.Y. who bullied their bus monitor on the school bus two weeks ago.
Karen Klein, the bus monitor, acts professionally as she sits in her seat just listening to the taunts and criticism that kept spewing from the mouths of these boys. Not once did she raise her voice or even look at them threateningly.
Honestly, I cannot even comprehend how she sat there and wiped the tears from her eyes without jumping out of her seat and yelling at the boys to stop.
As I watched her interview on the Today Show with Matt Lauer, she was calm and saddened by the behavior of these boys. Even Lauer expressed more anger towards the boys when he said he wished he could tell everyone their names over the air, but knew that he couldn't.
Since then she has chosen not to press charges and continually shows forgiveness to them and their parents.
Her behavior and forgiving attitude is a true lesson to anyone who has been verbally abused or bullied by another person, which is everyone, I am sure.
Even as the boys are receiving death threats, Klein's concern has been for the boys, who wishes them no harm saying, "I didn't like that," when she heard about the threats.
It is easy for us to sit back and judge the parents who are raising those boys saying things like, "it must be their parents," or "I'm sure they hear these kinds of things at home," but this isn't usually the truth when it comes to what kids say and do out of sight of their parents.
The more likely scenario is that they are trying to impress their friends or those whom they wish to be their friends. "Showing off" or falling prey to that "crowd mentality" that often happens to kids.
Supporters of Klein have raised over $450,000 to send her on a vacation. The original goal was $5,000. However, because of the generosity of people all over the country, Klein will be able to use the money for retirement and enjoy a DisneyWorld vacation thanks to DisneyWorld and Southwest Airlines.
Again Klein has shown class as she passionately thanks all of those who have donated to the fund.
Her wish for the boys is to complete community service, a punishment that seems to fit the crime. Maybe the boys should wash the school buses they rode on while insulting the grandmother who monitored the bus in an effort to keep them safe. Or better yet, they should have to clean up her yard each and every week for a year.
In the end, Klein has been a great example to each of us who has ever been wronged. Hopefully those boys will always remember the kindness they were shown by the person that they hurt so publicly.


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Mahvash Sabet enters fourth year imprisonment; human rights groups speak out, urge action
Baha'i International Community: International pressure "remains the main source of protection and comfort for these innocent prisoners"
Referring to Amnesty International's Persian new year greeting cards campaign, the Baha'is World News Service writes:
The action call notes that "Nowruz," which means "new day," is an ancient Persian holiday celebrating the first day of spring and the coming of the new year.
"On this Nowruz we want to remember several courageous prisoners of conscience in Iran with Nowruz greetings," said the organization.
Referring to the seven Baha'i leaders, Amnesty International wrote, "Although they have done nothing more than peacefully practice their religion, they were convicted on serious, but baseless, charges including 'espionage for Israel,' 'insulting religious sanctities' and 'propaganda against the system.'"
The group also suggests sending cards to seven other Iranian prisoners of conscience, depicting scenes "in keeping with the spirit of the holiday and the message of hope and renewal."
"The support of Amnesty International USA is greatly appreciated," said Bani Dugal, the principal representative of the Baha'i International Community to the United Nations.
"The awareness generated by Amnesty and other groups – along with expressions of concern by governments and international organizations – remains the main source of protection and comfort for these innocent prisoners and others who are deprived of their rights in Iran," she said.
Comments OffNEWS, PUBLIC STATEMENTS, REPORTS


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It's 'all for one, one for all' with E-911 funding
ST. JOHN — All participants must sign the interlocal agreement for Lake County's consolidated E-911 or no one will get a dime from the state in E-911 funding.
Thursday, Nicole Bennett, attorney for the Lake County Public Safety Communications Commission, told members they need to convey to their elected officials the state views the E-911 consolidation as an "all for one, one for all" situation.
It is the state's position if one entity does not participate in the E-911 consolidation, that entity will not only lose its E-911 dollars from the state, but all 17 of the taxing bodies that are part of the consolidation would lose their funding as well.
"I think the reality needs to be very, very clear to all of your local governments — you affect your neighbor," Bennett said.
Bennett said in her months since taking over legal responsibilities for the E-911 commission she has spoken with several elected officials who wanted to know the ramifications of not participating in the consolidation and instead opting to keep their individual dispatch centers.
Those communities need to know their actions will impact every other community in Lake County, she said. While one community could potentially offset the loss of E-911 funds from the state within its own budget, others who need their E-911 funds to operate could be negatively impacted.
Bennett said the interlocal agreement has come about as far as it can until Cender and Associates finishes the financial data needed and the new E-911 director takes his post.
Larry Blanchard, consultant to the Lake County Board of Commissioners, said the commission has received financial information from all of the public safety answering points in Lake County and Cender is compiling the data. The information is expected to be available in a report by mid-July.
Thomas Dabertin, consultant to the E-911 commission, said new director Brian Hitchcock is in the process of relocating from Davenport, Iowa, to Northwest Indiana. He is expected to take the post on or about July 22.
Bennett said until the financial data is available for inclusion in the interlocal, and until Hitchcock has had a chance to determine if the current capital equipment estimate is adequate it cannot be complete.
She said once the numbers are plugged in, a public meeting will take place in mid-August including elected officials, their attorneys and representatives from the state legislature to answer questions and gather final input for the final draft of the document, which will then be circulated for approval among the cities and towns.


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Free Download Mp3 Song of Tevar that is one of most awaited upcoming bollywood Movie. Arjun Kapoor and Sonakshi Sinha are playing lead roles in the Movie. Tevar has 8 music tracks including two remix versions of Superman and Tevariffic song. Main to Superman, The Radha Nachegi, Joganiyan, Tevariffic (Mashup) and ...Read More »
PK Free MP3 songs download-All songs – Aamir Khan and Anushka Sharma
Free Download Mp3 Song of PK that is latest hindi Movie. Aamir Khan and Anushka Sharma are playing lead roles in the Movie. PK has 7 music tracks that you will love to listen. The Nanga Punga Dost, Bhagwan Hai Kahan Re Tu, and Dil Darbadar songs are already very ...Read More »
Main Toh Superman Song Lyrics, Free Video, Tevar movie – Arjun Kapoor and Sonakshi Sinha
Here comes the complete lyrics of Main Toh Superman song from Tevar movie . Tevar is one of the most awaited movie of the year starring Arjun Kapoor and Sonakshi Sinha in lead roles. Get free lyrics and watch full hd video of Main Toh Superman song from Tevar movie. ...Read More »
Bigg Boss 8 Winner Name – Season 8 Revealed by Experts
Bigg Boss 8 Winner Name – One of the most favorite realty television show of India – Bigg Boss has started its Season 8. It is being telecast on Colors TV Channel and show has completed first its first month very successfully. It is being hosted by the Super Star ...Read More »
India's Raw Star – Yo Yo Honey Singh – Final Winner Name & Top contestants
India's Raw Star Winner – Yo Yo Honey Singh come together with India's No 1 entertainment channel, Star Plus to present India's first unconventional singing reality show named India's Raw Star. The show started its journey on Sunday, 24th August 2014 and it is being telecast on Star Plus. The ...Read More »
Haider Box Office Collection / Earning Report – Shahid Kapoor & Shraddha Kapoor
Haider First Day Collection Report : Shahid Kapoor is getting mature with acting in every new release and he is playing a very mature character in his latest movie Haider. The movie is based on the William Shakespeare's novel Hamlet that is adapted to set in Kashmir. Shraddha Kappor is ...Read More »
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2011 / 05 - May Issue of American Cinematographer
The May 2011 issue of American Cinematographer magazine, salutes the ASC and Academy Award nominees for cinematography and recaps the Academy Scientific and Technical Awards
Cinema Vérité (HBO)
Affonso Beato, ASC discusses his work on this intriguing HBO television movie which dramatizes the making of the groundbreaking 1973 documentary series An American Family, a forerunner of today's reality-TV series that chronicled the lives of the Loud clan and catapulted them to national notoriety. AC was welcomed onto the set and presents a detailed overview of the production, which stars James Gandolfini, Diane Lane and Tim Robbins.
There Be Dragons (Samuel Goldwyn)
Gabriel Beristain, ASC, BSC was behind the camera on this Roland Joffé period drama about a pair of childhood friends whose lives are torn apart by the Spanish Civil War. Beristain discusses the complexities of the logistics he faced while shooting on location in Argentina and Spain.
Prom (Disney)
Byron Shah became one of the first cinematographers to shoot a feature with Arri's Alexa camera while working on this comedy, which concerns a group of teenagers preparing for their high-school prom. Shah offers an overview of the camera's features and performance.
Digital Imaging, Part 2
AC technical editor Christopher Probst presents the second half of his incisive look at the history, design and function of digital imagers. His coverage also compares the performance of various imagers.
ASC/Academy Award winners and nominees
In our annual salute to the year's best cinematography, we present a pictorial recap of the annual ASC Awards weekend and acknowledge the accomplishments of all the directors of photography who were honored at the ASC and Academy Award ceremonies: Danny Cohen, BSC (The King's Speech), Jeff Cronenweth, ASC (The Social Network), Roger Deakins, ASC, BSC (True Grit), Matthew Libatique, ASC (Black Swan) and Wally Pfister, ASC (Inception).
Academy Scientific and Technical Awards
We offer a complete review of this year's ingenious honorees, whose technical contributions to filmmaking were feted on February 12 during a prestigious dinner at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel in Beverly Hills, California. Included in our coverage will be a profile of ASC associate member Denny Clairmont, who received the John A. Bonner Award for the advancements he's brought to camera technology as co-founder of Clairmont Camera.
The May issue's departments also offer illuminating insights:
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Lot: 138. Rare Set of German Stockinette Character Dolls Marketed by K*R
13" (33 cm.) The set of five dolls are each stockinette over padded wire frame,with stitch-shaped and painted facial features,able to be flexibly posed in any manner. Condition: very good,some surface dust,one nose tip worn. Comments: K*R offered the dolls in their 1927 catalog,describing them as "highly original character dolls",in costumes to represent a variety of professions,even offering to create dolls to order "if colored illustrations are sent in". Value Points: rarely found,the dolls are all wearing their original felt costumes to suggest various professions,here notably the barkeeper.
Realized Price: 3750
Catalogued Auction Lots
138. Rare Set of German Stockinette Character Dolls Marketed by K*R
139. Early 20th-Century French Wooden Model of Bar
140. Collection of German Paper-Mache Winter Gnomes on Sleds
141. Austrian Felt Character Doll by Elli Riehl in Original Costume
142. German Brown Mohair Miniature Teddy Baby by Steiff
143. Rare German Felt Character "Der Wanderer" by Steiff,Exhibition Model
144. German Bisque Doll by Kling with Original Folklore Costume
145. Wooden Erzgebirge Toys with Victorian Park Themes
146. Three Wooden Erzgebirge Toys with Childhood Theme
147. Wonderful Collection of Erzgebirge Wooden Animal Dolls in Original Box