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Lie Down in the Darkness, Rise up from the Ash: 21. Fisher King
Dawn had come and gone unnoticed, for all Edoras lay under a dark cloud. The rain had continued on and off, and at the moment it came down in a drizzle, but the skies remained threatening whether or not it fell. And although it hindered some activities, the rain had helped to douse the fires, to cleanse the air somewhat of the pervasive scent of ash, and it washed the gore from the streets in scarlet rivulets. Aragorn stood just outside the wreck of the main gates, and lifted his face to the sky, letting the slap of chill water numb his aches and weariness.
It had taken hours to comb through the Entwood in search of lost, frightened men, and although it would take time for Edoras to heal, some of the rubble had had to be cleared for safety's sake. Houses had needed to be checked by sweep patrols to clear out any orcs or Dunlendings that might have taken shelter in them, hoping to be overlooked. Aragorn had overseen some of the teams, and had had the misfortune to discover a few such rat's nests. In the mean time, a pair of scouts had been sent north towards Helm's Deep to see whether there lay any unfought forces still between the two strongholds, and to alert them in the event that there were. And if there were none, then Elfhelm and Erkenbrand—assuming that they lived still—would accompany the messengers home. The people of Edoras would remain within the inner keep until tomorrow, which meant that despite the lifting of the siege, quarters would still be quite cramped. And then there was the burial work that had to be done...
The Ranger grimaced, and ran a hand over his face as he lowered his eyes once more. His few hours of sleep the night before last were not sufficient to the need of today, and he knew that he ought to take the time granted him and rest. Yet he could not quite bring himself to return yet to the crowded keep, even knowing that he at least had a bed to sleep in, unlike so many others. Burial work! He had done his share of that as well—not because he was needed, but because he needed to lay his grief to rest along with Gimli. That, and Legolas has done enough today without straining himself further. Éomer had wanted to help, but he had been called to the inner keep by Théoden on some urgent errand.
Thus it had been a small party of mourners about the Dwarf's grave when at length it had come time to lay him in it and cast the earth's shroud over him. The hobbits, in an unusual show of conscientiousness, had gone to the trouble of gathering piles of broken cobblestones from the main road to lay over the turned soil. "I don't suppose we could raise anything like what we saw in Moria," Merry had murmured, and looked anxiously up at Aragorn. "Do you think this will do, Strider?"
"'Tis a fitting gesture," the Ranger had replied. "I think he would approve." The hobbits had seemed somewhat relieved by that assurance, but Legolas had scarcely twitched, staring with unseeing eyes at the stone-covered patch of ground. The Elf had knelt and placed his hands firmly upon the grass near the head of the grave, and Aragorn had thought he understood the prince's intentions. But no sound had issued from Legolas's lips, and eventually, he had bowed his head, shoulders shaking silently. Slender hands clenched into fists, twisting the blades of grass in agony, and then, abruptly, the Elf had stood. If he had wept, the rain hid it, but the dullness of his eyes—lifted for a time by the company of friends, new and old—had returned. Without a word, he had simply walked away, back up into the city, breaking into a run after a bit and disappearing quickly into the darkness.
That had upset the hobbits, but no one had a mind to run after an Elf who clearly wished to be alone. As there had been (and continued to be) much else to be done, the trio had reluctantly gone their separate ways. The hobbits were bent upon doing what they could in the aftermath of the battle, and had joined the search for lost soldiers in the Entwood.
"Bregalad knows us, as do the others. So long as we are careful, we shall come to no harm, and at least we know something of adventures with trees," Pippin had declared determinedly. Aragorn had nodded at the time, taking them at their word, and then gone to help clear out orcs from their hiding places. All the while, though, his mind had been elsewhere, and that had nearly proved his undoing when an orcish crossbow bolt had come within inches of his face. After that, he had kept his thoughts reined in tightly lest they betray him. His duty done this past half hour, however, he had naught pressing to do save contemplate the unsavory tale that had come down from the keep.
And while he brooded on the latest intimations of disaster, he stared at the barrow. His own contribution to Gimli's grave stood a little to one side of where Legolas had laid his hands, and he supposed he ought to ask pardon for the "borrowing." But to rebuild Edoras would require many a stonemason and hard work at the quarries, and so he thought no one would miss a single, somewhat worn, white stone. Gimli might never have been a Ranger, but no Ranger could fail to sympathize with those who fell far from the sight of their homes, defending a people not their own.
"Strider?" A hesitant voice broke through his thoughts, and Aragorn blinked, then turned to see Pippin standing there, looking cold and miserable, and thoroughly upset.
"What is it, Pippin?"
"It's Legolas." A chill pierced him at those words, and it must have shown, for the hobbit hastened to add, "Merry's with him now. Well, he's just a little ways away, but he's watching him. We tried to talk to him, Merry and I, but he won't answer, except to tell us to leave him alone. I thought... maybe you'd have better luck."
I doubt it! Aragorn thought privately, but sighed. "Where is he?"
"Up on the tower in the inner keep."
"How did you find him?"
"Bregalad has long eyes, and he says Elves always seek the heights when they cannot seek the seas, whatever that means," Pippin said, and shrugged nervously.
"I see. How did you find me?" Aragorn asked, delaying the inevitable. This time, Pippin only shrugged, blushing a bit.
"I just thought you might come back here. It's what I was going to do until Merry said we ought to look for Legolas."
"Stay then, if you wish. I can send Merry to you."
"No, I'll go with you. I, um, I don't think I want to be alone right now," Pippin replied, casting a rather more serious look than was his wont up at the Ranger.
"Come then," Aragorn replied, and offered a rather tired smile as he added, "In truth, neither do I!" That seemed to hearten the other somewhat, and the two of them set off. For once, Aragorn was grateful for the short legs of hobbits, which hold Men to a much slower pace than usual, for he was weary and desired time to think how he would approach a grieving, wounded Elf. It was rare that the Eldar died of grief, although the few who had were quite notorious for having done so, and certainly, he had never heard of any Elf dying for the sake of a Dwarf.
On the other hand, the sheer novelty of such a relationship put him quite far out of his depth. As if I were not already! Through the rain-slick, rubble-strewn streets they went, heading for the inner keep. Despite the rain, people huddled in knots here and there all about the courtyard before Meduseld, and Pippin led him left, to the eastern tower. Up the winding way they went, until at last they came upon Merry, who was sitting huddled on the steps beneath the trap door.
"He's still up there," Merry said in a low, worried voice. "Can you get him to come down?"
"I know not. But at the least, I think you two need not remain here. Take what rest you can and get out of the cold," Aragorn advised, considering the ladder and the rain that fell down through the open door.
"Are you certain?"
"Aye. Go ahead." The hobbits glanced at each other, then Merry rose and he and Pippin began making their way down in silence. As they did so, Aragorn grasped the rungs and climbed swiftly out onto the platform, stifling a curse when a sudden gust of wind blew stinging rain into his eyes. Straightening, he glanced about and quickly spotted Legolas sitting atop a merlon, facing out towards the remains of the gates. Although not particularly afraid of heights, the Ranger felt a certain instinctive dread grip him, and the urge to grab the Elf and drag him back from the edge was nearly overwhelming. "Legolas?" he asked softly, making no effort to hide the concern in his voice.
"You as well?" the prince asked in a low voice.
"Pippin and Merry are worried about you," Aragorn replied.
"Whereas you are not?" The sharp, almost sneering tone was quite unlike Legolas, but Isildur's Heir refused to flinch.
"Nay, Legolas. I do not worry, I fear for you!"
"You should fear more for yourself! You shall catch your death of cold, Aragorn, if you remain. Go below!" the answer came back tautly.
"I think I can be no wetter than I am already," the Ranger replied, moving slowly forward to stand just behind and below the Elf. And since he was soaked to the skin, he did not hesitate to sit in the water puddling in the crenel so he could catch a glimpse of Legolas' expression. Strands of long, dark-gold hair hung wetly in his face, and the Elf's breath steamed in the cold air. "Legolas... you knew that this might happen."
"Must you remind me of my folly?" the prince cried, his green eyes flashing as he turned them on the Ranger, and Aragorn cursed inwardly. He had not intended to lay blame at anyone's doorstep with that statement. Although if we must seek to blame someone, I deserve it more than any other. I should never have agreed to let him stay, knowing he was not truly battle-fit. But Gimli had chosen already...
"I mean only that when you chose to accompany the Ringbearer, you knew that you traveled with mortal companions. Even Gandalf was quite vulnerable to death, as you knew well after Moria," he replied, carefully keeping his voice level. "Each of us knew the risk when he accepted this task, Gimli no less than you."
"Did we?" Legolas asked softly, still staring at Aragorn. "Did we indeed know the risk?"
"What mean you?"
"I have come to realize something since I came to this place," the Prince of Mirkwood replied. "It crept upon me slowly, but now I see it clearly! The veil of Darkness has not lifted with Saruman's defeat, Aragorn. I thought it my own, or a wizard's meddling, but now I know the truth: it is pervasive, insidious, and it is everywhere! Valar, it sits so heavy on you that I am only shocked by my blindness!" That last was delivered with such bitterness that the Ranger caught his breath sharply. Legolas noticed and gave a soft, almost contemptuous laugh. "Do not deny it, Aragorn! You are too weary to dissemble before an Elf, so kindly do not insult me with the attempt! The Darkness is, and the Song... the Song is grown fractured and distorted... Silent in places..." The prince cocked his head, his eyes growing distant as he seemed to listen for some elusive melody. "Yes... so very silent, and yet we did not see, we who ought to have seen. We would not see—the last vanity of my kind, and it shall cost us dear!" He shook his head sharply, then lanced Aragorn with a stare. "And you knew. You have known for all the long way from Moria, and in Lothlórien, where you acted so oddly to my eyes!"
"You might have told me!"
"What would you have had me say?" Aragorn demanded quietly. "When Gandalf fell into the chasm, I knew and I despaired. Yet it seemed that you had been spared that bitter knowledge. Why would I have said aught, knowing the risk should the Ringbearer come to share my hopelessness?"
"Frodo left us days ago. You might have told me then!"
"Why? You were injured and struggling as it was, and Gimli did not know, yet he never ceased to fear for you. You had concerns enough between the two of you."
"And later? What of today?"
"Legolas," Aragorn paused, groping for words, for an even tone of voice despite his frustration and the wholly irrational anger that wanted to strike back in his own defense before the other's scathing tone. Finally, he drew a breath and his eyes narrowed as he stared up at the Elf. "Once, when first we met, you said to me, that it must be a gift to come to learn of sorrow, rather than to be born to it. Do you recall that?" The elven prince's lips tightened, but he nodded. "And I told you that like many gifts, it has its dangers. What think you of this gift now? And would you truly have wished to receive it earlier? It would not have saved Gimli. You know that. No amount of knowledge can save one from what simply befalls." The bitter truth, that, and Legolas, after staring for several moments longer, finally lowered his head.
After a long silence, the Elf said softly, "Please leave, Aragorn! Ere I say aught else unworthy."
"If I leave, have I your promise that you will come and sleep soon? Or at the least, that come midday, you shall come down and find me?"
A sigh greeted this request, and then: "I have never desired to grieve to death. Even now, I do not wish it."
"Then I shall leave you to your thoughts. May they prove... enlightening." That was the best he could manage, but at least he could trust an Elf to catch the double-meaning of that last word. Having spoken his piece, Aragorn turned and made his way down the ladder. And although it was a futile effort, he paused just to one side of the trap door's opening and wrung water out of his hair, his sleeves, his cloak, his tabard. He even stripped his gloves off and wrung them out, and as he watched the water sluice off of him and his clothes, he tried to let the pain drain away with it. Well that I did not tell him that Frodo knew ere he did! Steadily, son of Arathorn, keep your wits about you! Drawing a deep breath, he pulled his gauntlets back on and went swiftly down the stairs, determined to drown his troubles in oblivion for a few hours.
As he stepped out of the tower and back into the rain again, however, he espied Éomer. The Third Marshal was gesturing emphatically in the constrained space between himself and his interlocutor, but it was clear from the force of his movements and his taut, mask-like expression, that he was deeply troubled. The other Rider, whom Aragorn could see only from the back, seemed a younger man—an esquire, perhaps? But no esquire would argue back in quite the way that this one seemed to, although the two kept their words between them. And as the Ranger paused just beyond the threshold of the entryway, Éomer saw him and seemed to halt mid-sentence.
The other Rider turned to glance over his shoulder—Over her shoulder! Aragorn realized with a weary sort of shock. I knew not that Rohan had trained any shieldmaidens in this generation! Or is that true? A moment, they stared at each other while his tired mind tried to tease out half-remembered words, and then the woman raised a hand and beckoned to him to join them. Éomer's jaw clenched, but the Third Marshal drew a deep breath and seemed to rein in his temper as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Éomer... my lady," Aragorn murmured, as he approached, feeling rather more awkward than he might wish.
"You are Lord Ælric, are you not?" the woman asked rather coolly.
"I am. I fear you have the advantage of me, Lady...?"
"Aragorn, this is my sister, Éowyn," Éomer spoke just as realization struck him. Ranger and Shieldmaiden eyed each other, seeming to test expectations against reality. She looks like her brother... and they both have Éomund's eyes. And had not Éomer said earlier his sister was a shieldmaiden? And that Gríma had bought her honor and her shield with a threat to her brother's life? he recalled grimly. It seemed, though, that the lady did not accept Gríma's interpretation of the law...
"I am honored to meet you, my lady," Aragorn said at length. "A pity we met not sooner."
"Please, my lord, let us not speak of that," Éowyn replied fiercely, and the Ranger did not miss the slight quaver in her voice.
"As you wish. How else may I serve, then?" he asked instead.
"You are the one that Legolas spoke of—his companion, yes?" At his wordless nod, she continued, "Then mayhap you can tell me how he fares, my lord. I know that he was greatly grieved over the loss of the Dwarf, Gimli."
"He is an Elf, my lady, and I fear that Elves take very ill such losses," Aragorn responded, careful of his words, for he would not reveal overmuch, uncertain of how things stood between Legolas and the lady Éowyn.
"I would speak with him—to thank him for his aid. And mayhap he would find some comfort from my presence."
"That is kind of you, but I believe that he wishes now for solitude. I have lately come from the tower where he sits, and he asked me to leave him," the Ranger cautioned.
"Then we ought to do well together, for I think we both know what it means to stand alone among others! And though I cannot undo the past, mayhap I shall not fail the future in this small thing." At this, she turned back to Éomer and said, "Excuse me, brother." Ere the Third Marshal could protest, she nodded to Aragorn. "My lord." And then she was gone, striding quickly away and disappearing up into the tower. Aragorn stared after her, considering and swiftly rejecting the notion of trying to stop her. Legolas would do as he saw fit, and he suspected that the Lady of Rohan might take harsh honesty less ill than many women. Which freed him to recall his ponderings before Gimli's grave and, without turning, he asked:
"What was that about?"
"Naught," Éomer replied, sounding tense and angry still, though weariness robbed him of his usual force. Or perhaps it was lack of conviction, for Aragorn turned to spear the other with a probing regard, seeking the truth of this morning's news.
"I should think that she would be relieved, given the word from Meduseld," he replied softly, watching Éomer closely.
"You sound as if you disapprove of such a notion, Aragorn," the Third Marshal replied in a rather clipped, forced tone.
"I do not deny that I would rather him dead than alive, but Gríma was a prisoner. Only yesterday, it could have been you with a split breastbone, Éomer!"
A shrug. "What of that?" And Aragorn, hearing that, raised skeptical brows, his own tone sharpening in response to the other's cold voice.
"Are you thinking, Éomer? In war or a the king's hall, there is a certain fairness to it. But an unarmed man in a cell against an assailant armed with a sword? Or so I hear it, for to break bone with a dagger takes great strength. Who but one wronged would kill in such a manner? And where were you ere the battle began? Were you not at Meduseld?"
"Do not tell me that you pity Wormtongue!" Éomer shot back, his eyes bright with amazed anger and a hint of contempt. When Aragorn said naught, only gazed unhappily at him, he snorted and glanced away. "Ask any man in this keep—'twas no murder that happened. Gríma was an animal," he ground out disgustedly, staring up at the tower. "Whoever killed him, I commend him."
"Do you indeed?" the Ranger asked softly.
"'Twas but justice. We should have died today," Éomer replied, lowering his gaze to stare at Aragorn with haunted eyes that still smoldered with passion. "And if we had, what then? Would you have wished him to escape his sentence? What matter that it was never formally dealt out? He who slew the Worm of Edoras did but our duty for us, and unforeseen victory does not change that."
For his part, the Ranger listened to the other's tone, to the anger that vibrated in it and the fear, the defiance, and all of it overlaid with exhaustion that hoarsened his voice and lent a desperate edge to it. And although Éomer seemed quite convinced of the rectitude of Gríma's end, something nagged gently at the back of Aragorn's mind, seeking admission to conscious thought. Clearly, Éomer was hiding the truth, yet not that which might seem most obvious. I do not wish to ask him bluntly. There are other questions that might reveal much...
For a long while, he said nothing, debating with himself, but in the end, he simply sighed. "We are both weary and shall come to no satisfactory conclusion of this argument in our present moods. I think that you, especially, need to rest, Éomer. You were fortunate to survive the final onslaught," Aragorn replied, stepping back from the matter at hand to less controversial concerns.
"I am well enough," Éomer muttered, although he had the grace to look away with that lie, and the Ranger quirked a dark brow skeptically. The Third Marshal had an interesting bruise on his left cheek, and the only reason it had not swollen was the gash that drained away some of the blood. The right side of his face had a number of paper thin, shallow cuts and some scratches. Blood had stained his green tabard nearly black, and his hair was encrusted with it. Soot and mud clung to him up to his knees, and the grim reality of it was that this was an improvement over his earlier appearance, for the rain had drenched him just as thoroughly as it had Aragorn. Of greater concern to his healer's mind was the suspicion that Éomer had sustained other, more serious injuries, for he remembered the bewildered, dazed and pained look he had turned on him beneath the trees of the Entwood.
"You ought to seek a surgeon," he responded quietly. And perhaps it was his deadly serious tone, but Éomer blinked and glanced up, searching his face a moment ere he answered heavily:
"Nay, you are right to say that what I need is sleep!" he admitted, pressing thumb and forefinger against his eyes. "I shall take my leave, if you do not mind, and seek my bed in the guest house."
"Can you manage the walk, let alone the stairs?" And when Éomer neither answered nor moved, Aragorn sighed softly. Catching the younger man firmly by the arm, he began towing the unresisting Third Marshal along with him, steadying him as they crossed the sloping courtyard. It was likely fortunate that most people were already crowded into Meduseld's many halls, into storehouses, inns, or any other room that could be made to serve, not excepting the cramped, cold hallways within the keep's defensive wall. Else, they would have had to struggle against the human tide, and Aragorn doubted Éomer would have managed the feat with any grace. Wulf the inkeep glanced up as they entered the guesthouse, offering a brief bow. "Top of the stairs, my lords, and the first door on your left. You are with the Elf."
"Thank you," Aragorn murmured, as the two began their ascent. The stairs proved rather difficult when Éomer slipped and nearly dragged the Dúnadan down with him, as the steps were quite wet and slick from the many drenched guests who had traversed them. Wulf, hearing Éomer's low curse, glanced up concernedly at them, but Aragorn motioned him to go on about his tasks as he steadied the Third Marshal and continued climbing. The door on the left at the top of the stairs was unlocked, and the two of them gratefully entered and shut it behind them. It was dark within, for the shutters were closed, but the fire had been laid, illuminating dimly two cots and all of their gear piled together in a corner. After only a slight hesitation, the Ranger guided Éomer to the bench at the end of the bed. Legolas could sleep at will in almost any surrounding, after all. "Sit down and let me look at you."
"'Tis only a cut—"
"And that I can cure, but there are other reasons for my concern," Aragorn replied, digging through the pile of saddlebags until he found the one he wanted. Drawing out a clean cloth and his satchel, he returned to where Éomer still stood, as if unwilling to sit down lest he never rise again. "Sit!" Setting his supplies on the floor at his feet, he laid a heavy hand on the younger man's shoulder and pressed him down onto the edge of the bench. Reaching into his belt pouch, he found his tinderbox and caught Éomer's chin firmly as he struck the pad. Light flared, and the Third Marshal blinked. "Look at me!"
Obediently, Éomer did so, and Aragorn sighed with soft relief as the other's pupils contracted readily enough. Releasing his chin, the Ranger felt at the back of the other's head, finding a painful knot, and upon closer inspection, there was some bruising and swelling just along Éomer's hairline. Pulling off one of his gauntlets, he laid two fingertips over the pulse point in the other's throat, counting silently. At last, and with a grunt, Isildur's Heir straightened and went to light the candle on the stand by the head of the bed, bringing it back to set beside Éomer. "If you will not seek a surgeon's aid, I fear you shall have to make do with mine," he said, quelling any protests with a look as he wet a cloth and quickly washed his hands off. "You may have a mild concussion, but if so, you are in no danger from it. You do need to rest though. How do you feel, other than dizzy?"
"How ought I to feel? I was buried under orcs and then..." Éomer paused, eyes growing quite distant as he frowned, trying to recall. "I do not know what happened. I could not breathe, nor move... and suddenly there was noise and I was flung aside..." He hissed as Aragorn, using water from one of the bottles in his satchel, began cleaning the cut on his cheek. "I opened my eyes and I could see naught. I... thought I might have been blinded!" That last came out hesitantly, with a certain chagrin, as if he were ashamed to admit such fear.
"From what I have heard from others who were lost in the woods, many thought the same when first they fell under the shadow of the trees," the Ranger replied matter-of-factly, knowing that Éomer would not appreciate overmuch sympathy. The Third Marshal needed steadiness at the moment, not emotion. "When first I entered the Entwood, I felt as if all the world had faded behind me, and for a time I could do naught but stand and wait for the disorientation to ease." Having cleaned the wound as thoroughly as he could, he reached unerringly for the salve that he had used earlier on Legolas and gently applied it. Once the area was numbed, he would not fear to strain the other's self-control with stitches.
"The world is grown mad, it seems," Éomer replied, shaking his head, and then wincing. "Trees in the middle of Edoras, holbytla and Elves... and Isildur's Heir bears the horn of the stewards of Gondor."
"Hold still," Aragorn instructed, catching Éomer's face once more to keep him from moving as he began stitching the cut closed. "Mad it may seem, but it is our place to make sense of it. Doubtless, however, we shall both have more success in that endeavor once we have slept for a time."
"There are days when I feel as though Éowyn and I have been awake all of our lives," Éomer murmured, closing his eyes a moment. "She had the worst of it in the end, though. And I... I was always too late for her!" A pause. "Know you whereof I speak, Aragorn?"
The Dúnadan grimaced slightly, pausing a moment to meet the other's questioning gaze with dark eyes. "Aye, I do," said he quietly, thinking of his days of dreaming in Imladris... and remembering the more than sixty years of wakefulness that had descended suddenly upon a young man. Shaking himself quickly out of those memories, he blinked and bent again to the delicate task of mending the other's hurts. Alas that I can do little for the ones he bears inside! As little as I can do for Legolas, perhaps. Thought of Legolas, though, brought the Elf's accusing, horrified words starkly to mind: Valar, it sits so heavy on you that I am only shocked by my blindness! He supposed that he ought not to be surprised, but somehow, the prince's words had struck like a revelation, and he wondered whether this was a new darkness, or one that he had borne for long.
And if the latter, then how badly have I hurt Arwen? A part of his mind scoffed at such concerns, deeming them overlate in coming to him, for surely he had done quite enough to hurt her in loving her. Kiss the shadow, my dear! Kiss me and try not to notice what a twisted creature you touch! The notion disgusted him, and he gritted his teeth against the surge of self-loathing. He finished his task, cut the excess thread and glanced up to find Éomer watching him with narrowed eyes.
"What is it, Aragorn?" the younger man asked, and from his tone, it was clear enough that he would not accept silence or a casual dismissal.
"You were always too late for her, you say," he replied after a long moment's consideration, and watched as Éomer nodded slowly. "Better too late than disfigure her soul yourself. I can help you with the armor so that you do not break the stitches accidentally." And although a number of questions rose obviously in the Third Marshal's mind, he wisely asked none of them, only began, with Aragorn's help, to rid himself of the layers of metal and leather. The coif and the mail were the most troublesome, but they managed, and Éomer carefully stripped out of his sodden jerkin and tunic, while Aragorn tried not to grimace at the bruises this exposed.
Éomer climbed wearily to his feet and went in search of towels in the washroom, leaving Aragorn to his own devices. There comes a point when it hurts more to remove armor than to wear it, and he hissed slightly as he felt blood flow a bit more freely to numbed extremities. But by the time Éomer returned, he had rid himself of most of his layers and had spread their garments on the hearth and mantel to dry. The Third Marshal had taken advantage of the ewers of water to wash out his gore-smeared hair, and he tossed Aragorn the spare towel.
"There is still water there, if you wish it," he added, going to the piled saddle bags and searching through them 'til he found a clean pair of trousers. "It may not be warm, but 'tis less cold than the rain at least!" he added.
"My thanks," Aragorn replied, and went to investigate, for truthfully he would feel the better for scrubbing some of the filth out of his hair. Several empty pitchers stood on the floor, but there remained quite a few for others to use as well. Leaning over the basin, he poured the contents of one of them over his head and grimaced as the water ran redly into the receptacle despite the drenching he had received from the rain. Soap helped, but it needed another pitcher before the water that dripped from his hair ran clear. A third ewer was allotted to an economic bath, and then he quickly toweled himself dry.
As he did so, he noticed the small mirror hanging just over the wash basin, and wondered that he had not remarked it earlier. Perhaps it was simply that years spent in the wilds of Eriador, in the company of Rangers, had left him without the habit of mirror-gazing. One learned to shave and cut one's hair by feel or by a stream's wavering reflection, and one expected more or less to seem disreputable to the settled peoples of the world. Yet this time, he did stare, and tried to remember the last time he had looked in a mirror. Imladris, I think it was. I cannot remember how long it had been before that. There were a few more lines about his eyes, he thought, and he needed either to shave the beard entirely or else trim it. A few more strands of silver had worked their way into his hair, just there at his temples.
Other than that, there was little to mark the passing years, for Númenorean blood aged slowly. Nevertheless, if the mirror did not show the wounds within, he felt them still, and he wondered whether only Legolas saw them. I can read others at a glance, but myself...? Perhaps because it was himself, and he had no experience of what grief actually looked like on him, or perhaps because he was too accustomed to fool others who might seek answers to their questions in his face, he could not tell whether or not he had any secrets simply from looking into the glass.
Enough of this! Aragorn admonished himself and turned away, retreating to the main room. Éomer glanced up from his place by the fire, distracted apparently by his movement. He had changed and laid his clothes, mail included, near the hearth, and had ended by staring into the flames. The Ranger gave a soft snort and raised a brow. "Unless you are an Elf, you cannot sleep standing up, nor with your eyes open." For some reason, the Third Marshal shivered at those words, and folded his arms across his chest against gooseflesh.
"Let us not speak of the strange ways of Elves!" he replied, watching as Aragorn in his turn went hunting for clean clothing. He had one shirt left him at this point, but laundry would have to wait 'til the morrow. "And may I say that you look little better than I at this point, Aragorn!"
"I would amend my appearance with a few hours' rest if you would sleep yourself, my friend," the Ranger replied. And since water could hardly hurt anything, he simply piled his dirty clothing atop the bench at the foot of the bed, heedless of the puddle Éomer had left there, before pulling the clean shirt on. "Take the bed, Éomer, Legolas and I will be quite satisfied with the cots."
"I need not to be coddled—"
"And I do not coddle you, I look to the bruises and think of this afternoon," Aragorn replied, blowing out the candle beside him ere he gathered his laundry up and met the other's eyes. After a long moment's look, he stalked to the hearth once more, added his shirt and trousers to the many bits of clothing already there and set his boots down by Éomer's. There came a soft chuckle from behind him, and then the sound of sheets being turned down. The mattress creaked a bit as Éomer lay down.
"You and Éowyn would do well together, clearly!" came the half-serious complaint.
Aragorn grunted at that, then moved to claim one of the cots, gratefully curling up under the blankets. Yet as he lay there in the fire-lit darkness, he could not yet sleep for the question that nagged at him. The question he had not asked earlier. Can it not wait? Surely 'tis not so urgent that I know... After struggling against it for a short while, he uttered a soft curse and asked, "Éomer?"
"Mmmph?" came the sleepy response.
"Does Théoden know the truth of what happened in that cell?"
There followed a long pause, and then, "What mean you by that?"
"Do not play this game with me now! Does he know that it was not you who killed Wormtongue?" Another silence greeted his words. If he did it, he will own it, of that I am certain...
"Why should he suspect another? What other man would spit him on a sword?" Éomer asked at length. This time, it was Aragorn who was silent a long while, and the tension from Éomer's corner grew worse. Finally:
"I see," Isildur's Heir said heavily. However much he disliked the answer, Éomer plainly was not about to give him any other, though from the other's continued silence, the Third Marshal could not be unaware that Aragorn did not believe him.
"Rest you well, Aragorn," Éomer murmured just then, closing the subject.
"Thank you." A pause. "I hope that nothing ill comes of this!" There came the sound of the other turning over and burrowing deeper under the blankets, and then all was still. For his part, Aragorn pulled the covers tightly about him and closed his eyes. Within moments, he was asleep.
But Éomer, lying quietly with his back to the fire, sighed. He had skirted the truth as carefully as he knew how, yet it had not been enough to fool the other, and he silently cursed Gríma. Even in death, you make trouble for us all! he thought bitterly. Aragorn suspects, that is clear. For that matter, he was nearly certain that Théoden had guessed as well, and he sighed inaudibly. That makes it a conspiracy, unless Aragorn rips the mask off. But I think he shall not. Almost, he wished the Ranger would expose them, but it seemed all courses of action ran ill, creating unwelcome and insupportable situations. And in fact, Aragorn's very unwillingness to come forth and demand an inquiry struck Éomer as ominous in some way.
"Nothing ill, you hope? 'Tis too late for that, my friend!" he muttered, yawning around the last words. But whatever troubles pricked his uneasy conscience, at the moment, he was exhausted. The mattress was soft, and warmth stole insidiously through his body, quieting his fears.
When Legolas at last joined them, creeping in with an Elf's stealth, both Men were soundly asleep.
Thanks to Gabrielle for refusing to let me get away with the crappy transition.
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Lady Fortunes® Pink Ribbon Take Out Gift Set
by Lady Fortunes | Item #: 864545 |
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This lovely set includes 2 clear take out pails filled with one dozen pink ribbon fortune cookies.
Lady Fortunes pink ribbon fortune cookies are decorated with edible pink ribbons and pink & white non-pariels. They are presented in a set of two clear acetate take out pails tied with pink satin ribbon.
Our take out gift box set is a delicious way to raise awareness for a worthy cause. You'll receive one dozen of our individually wrapped chocolate fortune cookies. Send a "good fortune" to a breast cancer patient or survivor as a sweet way to show your support.
10% of all sales will be donated to the National Breast Cancer Foundation.
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The Mammoth Lakes Trail System, a long-term project that finally is near completion, gets a ribbon cutting next month at the Visitors Center off Main St./S.R. 203.
It is a ceremony that many trail advocates, working on it since the 1980s, thought might never happen.
Yet a combination of funding sources from various levels of government, then brokered by local public agencies, somehow put together a plan, then found the money.
The ceremony will take place Oct. 20 between 2 p.m. and 4 p.m. and will feature tours, an introduction of Summer of Stewardship trail projects, and demonstrations of the new trails website (www.MammothTrails [2]. org).
For additional information regarding the trail projects and a schedule of the celebration events, please visit www.mltpa [3]. org, or contact Nancy Upham, INF Public Affairs Officer, at 760-873-2427 or nupham@ fs.fed.us, or Stuart Brown, Town of Mammoth Lakes Public Information Officer at 760- 934-8989 ext. 210 or sbrown@ ci.mammoth-lakes.ca.us.
[1] mailto:email@example.com
[2] http://www.MammothTrails
[3] http://www.mltpa


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Simple question really, and it's been on my mind as of late... Is imitation a sincere form of flattery or just a way to garner unearned attention? Or does is exist in a gray area? Very curious to hear everyone's thoughts...
Simple question really, and it's been on my mind as of late... Is imitation a sincere form of flattery or just a way to garner unearned attention? Or does is exist in a gray area? Very curious to hear everyone's thoughts...
"I'm a sinner and I hope I never change"
More often than not it seems like imitation is done for personal gain... all the while the imitator is hoping you don't find out who they're imitating. I'd say it's the most insincere form of flattery.
I suppose it depends on the context of the imitation.
In the business world, "Imitation" will get you sued.
The design world deliberately takes inspiration from lots of places; even other designs - which is how we end up with specific styles, trends, etc.
In the music world we call it sampling - unless you're Vanilla Ice.
Regarding the TRC designs, I completely fell in love with the idea (your idea) of a crow - the main subject of my designs. It reminded me of the Raven guitar project that was originally going to have a Poe-themed paint job. Poe is buried in Baltimore so it was a natural fit my sense of who we are. Was that imitation or inspiration?
One Life
And of course there is a difference between imitation and mockery..Context is the key.
Immitation... Inspiration...
I think inspiration is fair game, particularly in the context of the TRC which I personally viewed as a collaborative effort by members. I.e, it was / is fair game to take an element of the design and tweak it. The TRC should be a melting pot of ideas with the endgame being something most of us are happy with.
I don't think anyone has immitated a design that I can see. Inspired, certainly. Of course, this may not be what you're referring to.
If someone comes along and completely takes whole portions of something you've created and uses it in another manner (With the claim it's entirely their own work) without asking then that's a whole different matter.
Modified SE Bernie Marsden, Fender Strat
Laney Lionheart L5T-112, Fender Mustang 1
Wishing for a Blue Bernie!
Click here for SE Bernie Marsden demo!
Lessons, covers, backing tracks, etc...www.youtube.com/mikegarveyblues
Imitation can be a sincere form of flattery, but more often than not, it's just a lazy way out of being creative.
Frank Bello
Think imitation as a form of "fan-art". It all depends on the context and one´s attitude towards the original artist.
Love for all human beings is like listening to any kind of music. You just don't care.
The 3-Mike-7 devotee.
The event that sparked this thread was hearing a couple of lines from a friend of mines "old" song in another groups "new" song. Not saying two people can't have the same thought.. Not saying they can't possibly express the thought in the same way, but it's a pretty big coincidence if you think about it. I'll try to get together the lyrics of both and let you all chime in...
With regard to the TRC designs, in the case of Hans' Raven designs, it takes the crow element in my design to a whole new plateau.. And I absolutely love the vibe of his TRC concepts. And if my stuff served as inspiration for that I would absolutely be flattered. I would also be proud to have a Raven TRC on my guitar or guitars...
However I can't help but take issue with a particular element being plugged into a design that might muddy the waters... I was not personally a fan of the circle of birds with the est. 2012 text TRCs. Nothing wrong with them, just not my taste. So, to see an identifiable element from my initial idea thrown in to dress up another did kinda rub me the wrong way.
But let me be clear, I don't think any ill will was implied or intended and have zero issue with the designs standing beside one another, I think the differences are enough overall to set the ideas apart.
Just airing it out...
Well if that wasn't the case then there would be no Stone Temple Pilots, Living Color, Nickleback.... oh wait, forget I brought it up.
Modified SE Bernie Marsden, Fender Strat
Laney Lionheart L5T-112, Fender Mustang 1
Wishing for a Blue Bernie!
Click here for SE Bernie Marsden demo!
Lessons, covers, backing tracks, etc...www.youtube.com/mikegarveyblues
Depends what you're imitating.
Learning is often imitation. First we imitate, and then as we gain mastery, with any luck we are able to innovate.
This answer has nothing whatsoever to do with truss rod covers.
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken...
Website: http://www.elfxi.com


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Excerpted from The Doll by Taylor Stevens. Copyright © 2013 by Taylor Stevens. Excerpted by permission of Broadway Books, a division of Random House LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
A Conversation with New York Times bestselling thriller writer Taylor Stevens,
author of THE DOLL
(Crown Publishers; on sale June 4, 2013)
Q: Your debut thriller, The Informationist, was sold to 20 territories, received rave reviews from national media including the New York Times, USA Today, and the Associated Press, and became an instant New York Times bestseller. And we've heard film rights were just bought by James Cameron! In your wildest dreams did you foresee this kind of success for your very first publication?
A: My dreams were pretty tame, and I never saw this coming. I'm still waiting for that call that confirms what I've suspected—it's all been a mistake, a fluke, and oops, sorry. Originally, getting published wasn't even on the map of reasons for writing—the goal was just to write a book, to say that I'd done it, that I'd finished what I'd started. Gradually, as the story progressed and I learned more about publishing, I dared to hope that maybe I could get into print. But this? I had no idea.
Q: The Informationist introduced readers to a mysterious, motorcycle loving, tough-as-nails protagonist named Vanessa "Michael" Munroe. She's often been described as part Jason Bourne, part Jack Reacher, with a little bit of Lisbeth Salander and Sydney Bristow mixed in. How did you first come up with this bad-ass character?
A: Without much in the way of formal education, and having never attended any creative writing classes, for me, everything about writing fiction unfolded backwards. I had no idea what I was doing—had no plot, no characters—only the location in which the first book would be set, so there was never a brilliant aha moment when Munroe came vividly to life fully created. Imagining what her reactions might be to various scenarios, I was often drawn to the emotional conflict and skill of Jason Bourne and the sensual confidence of Lara Croft, but Munroe's history, the past that made her who she is and the full development of her passion, was a slow process brought to life over time in counterpoint to the demanding environments she was thrown into.
Q: You set your first thriller all over the world with a significant amount of time spent in Africa, and your second novel, The Innocent, was set in Buenos Aires and Morocco. Your new novel, The Doll is set in Central Europe—Croatia and Slovenia— and Italy. You seem to favor exotic locales! Tell us about that.
A: It's one of those things where, once the pattern was established and readers responded so favorably to the international settings in the first story, I had to continue in that vein through the rest of the series. Basically I created my own handcuffs—ha. From a crafting perspective, setting stories internationally is difficult: the research is time intensive and there are exponentially more ways to goof up the details. I try to avoid writing parts of the world that might be considered "obvious" thriller targets—places such as Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Iraq. And because the plot has to bend to the location, not the other way around, it means before I even start with an idea of what happens, I have to already figure out where it's going to happen.
Q: The Doll takes Munroe inside the underground world of sex slaves and human trafficking where she must outsmart and outmaneuver a shadowy figure known only as "the Doll Maker." What inspired this plot and this very creepy villain?
A: My "ideal reader" (the person with whom I discuss everything to do with my writing) asked me, "What would happen if instead of Munroe being the rescuer, she was the victim?" That prompted so many other what-if scenarios: Who would be crazy enough to go after Munroe? Why would they do it? How would they control her? What would be awful enough to motivate her to care? Human trafficking is an issue I've been aware of for quite some time, and it seemed to me that many people in developed nations still have a tendency to view it as something that happens only in other countries. I felt it could use more attention and the subject matter worked for the story. That said, it is such a dark, depressing, and almost hopeless topic that I didn't feel I could properly do it justice in the form of entertainment, so rather than use true-to-life scenarios, I built an extreme outlier situation and used that as the entertainment while contrasting against the starkness of what is reality.
Q: In The Doll Munroe is forced to deliver merchandise in the form of a high-value young woman in order to keep her closest friend, Logan, alive. If she succeeds, she'll guarantee the young girl's demise. If she fails, it means Logan's death. In order to save the ones she loves, she's pitted not only against the trafficking organization, but against the worst aspects of herself. Was it difficult writing this more personal side of Munroe?
A: Mostly what I found extraordinarily difficult was developing and writing two stories, with two distinct plot lines, two completely different casts of characters, in two separate time zones, both of which needed to zipper seamlessly together. Each story also needed to have its own story arc, its own tension, its own octane, while still giving the characters enough life to become "real," all while keeping it within a limited word count and playing it out in parts of the world with which I was unfamiliar. Writing the book nearly killed me!
Q: What's next for Munroe?
A: She's headed back to Africa, this time to the north and east where she gets tangled up with a hijacked ship. Readers will have an opportunity to watch how she operates when she ends up in unfamiliar territory where she's on her own and where she has no prior contacts or connections. And this time—perhaps my inner child is rebelling against the beating it took when writing The Doll—there is only one plot line and one point of view. In The Catch, it's pure Vanessa Michael Munroe, all the way.
"I read The Doll in one frenzied, caffeine-fueled sitting, then re-read it slowly and luxuriantly, just for the sheer pleasure of it. Out of everything I've read ever, if I had to pick a fictional character to have dinner with, Michael Munroe would certainly make my Top 5. . . Stevens excels at depicting pulse-pounding danger, and her prose and plotting are spectacular, especially given her cult background. She was denied all but a sixth-grade education, but her writing places her heads above most authors working in the thriller genre. Only Dan Brown and Lee Child come close; not even the lauded Larsson could turn a phrase or twist a plotline like Stevens can. Really, my only complaint is that I'd like her to please write faster." —Dallas Morning News
"Munroe is a sensational character and Stevens is a sensational writer, and together they put The Doll high on my books-of-the-year list." —Lee Child, New York Times bestselling author of the Jack Reacher series
"If you are a fan of Jack Reacher, Lisbeth Salander, or Nina Zero, you need to check out Vanessa Michael Munroe!" —BookPage
"If you can stand the heat, Stevens' third thriller is a sizzler." —Minneapolis Star Tribune
"If Lisbeth Salander…had special-ops training and a knack for languages, she'd be Vanessa Michael Munroe… [A] guilty-pleasure thrill ride." —Winnipeg Free Press
"This New York Times Bestselling author is back...with a truly spellbinding story. . . Readers have finally found a 'Bond girl' that is actually Bond, himself. Vanessa is a heroine that will face the worst facets of humanity and will fight to the finish to save a soul from following in her blood-soaked footsteps." —Suspense Magazine
"Now for some fun. If you are a thriller buff, and especially if you loved Stieg Larsson's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo you won't want to miss Taylor Stevens newest novel The Doll….Her new novel takes readers on a cat-and-mouse trip through Central Europe as Vanessa tries to outrun a villain. And, let's say, a villain you will never forget. Scary as hell!" —Hudson Valley News
"What a great gripping novel with a provocative heroine. Taylor Stevens has done it again. This is her third novel and it, too, should be an award winner." —I Love A Mystery
"If you're looking for a fast-paced thriller, The Doll and the two previous Vanessa Michale Munroe novels are pretty hard to beat." —Huntington News
"Munroe, skilled at strategy, tactics, and languages, is a powerful and dangerous figure whose violent aspect is reminiscent of James Bond." —Criminal Elements
"Taylor Stevens treads where the faint-hearted dare not go: the land of violence, greed and opportunism, a vast underbelly of worldwide criminal enterprise—in this case human trafficking… From one frantic scene to another, Stevens creates unbearable tension. …Stevens uses her protagonist's ability to morph from female to male, her dexterity and her wits, to establish Michael as a viable heroine. She moves confidently through a man's world with impunity, but only her humanity stands between Michael and the monster she might become…Couched in a non-stop thriller, this larger-than-life revenge heroine never disappoints." —CurledUp.com
"Prolific linguist and exquisitely honed killer Munroe is no less effective here for still suffering from past trauma…Stevens's third series outing is another brisk, adrenaline-fueled adventure with a trail of bodies and a damaged protagonist who may live to kill another day." —Library Journal
"Stevens' third Munroe book is another international action-adventure with a Bourne-like avenging angel at the reins." —Booklist
"Lean and mean thriller featuring Vanessa Michael Munroe, an "informationist" with a scary dark streak… This book is strongly influenced by the existential bare-bones approach of Lee Child's Reacher books, and its brilliant but damaged heroine, the estranged daughter of missionaries, owes much to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. But Stevens stamps the novel with her own bleak, punishing, bullet-flying outlook… Out of that gloomy intensity comes edgy suspense. In Stevens' powerfully contained follow-up to The Innocent, there is no release for the tormented heroine, only license to live another day." —Kirkus
"Good and bad deeds alike have a high price, as dramatically shown in Stevens's harrowing third Vanessa Michael Munroe novel…Munroe remains as compelling as ever: violent yet protective of innocence, imprisoned by not only her past but also the choices she has made in response to it, and painfully conscious of her closeness to sanity's edge." —Publishers Weekly


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Comments On Mar 26, 2015:I was skeptical at first as I had ITP MudLite XTRs in the past but everyone I talked to about the Bighorns was right. These are Awesome all around traction skins and are better on ice and trails than the XTR's ever were. I haven't had them in deep mud yet but don't really ride the mud anymore, it wrecks everything. If you want great traction and an ultra smooth ride, this is your tire!
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Comments On Mar 10, 2015:great tire for any terrain
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Comments On Feb 26, 2015:tires delivered quickly and on time preform well on rocky and gravel terrian
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Comments On Feb 01, 2015:on my second set no issues
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Comments On Jan 20, 2015:10 times better than factory tires great price. I plowed snow the other day in turf mode didnt even need 4wd
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Comments On Jan 15, 2015:Outstanding tires. Much better ride and handling over the standard tire that came with my Rzr 800.
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Comments On Jan 14, 2015:I live in Reno, Nv and ride all the rocky roads and dirt trails that are around here. Steep terrain. They perform great. For here I would buy nothing else. There wear really well also. I would recommend this tire for this kind of riding anytime.
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Comments On Dec 30, 2014:Bead is strong on these nobby's so let a little air out and let them take you up that steep one.
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Comments On Dec 15, 2014:I have used these tires in the past and they are great all around tires but when I purchased the 30x10x14 for clearance I was very unhappy with them only measuring 28" tall with 25psi of air in them. I know they will be even shorter when I take the pressure down to 5psi where I will ride them at. When you buy a tire that says 30" on it you would expect it to be close not 2" off!
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Comments On Dec 15, 2014:Yes - all of the positive things you have read about Bighorn's is true - they run *larger* than size, they grip really well in all kinds of conditions (especially snow), they wear like steel, and they roll quietly and with low resistance. Some of the negative things seem to be true as well - I had a bead leak that was a pain, after riding aggressively with low pressure - that must have jammed some crud into the bead. When that happens, the only fix is to pop the bead, and clean the crud out - but I never had a sidewall puncture. These tires are *tough*. These tires are heavy as well. I was expecting a smooth, soft ride with the radial construction - but I was disappointed. The difference in ride quality between a radial and a bias tire is minimal - don't expect radials to blow your mind with a super-smooth trail ride. The blue tint on the white lettering is annoying - and it does not come off. Overall - These tires are quite amazing. I will buy them again.
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Due to recent updates in the WordPress community, we're experiencing a heavier load of support than normal. Don't worry, we'll get to your question as soon as we can, but it may take a little longer than our standard 24-48 hour response time. In the meantime, definitely search the knowledgebase below, to potentially find a solution. Thanks for your patience! ~ Team SlideDeck
Bradley Kenyon Mar 4 • SlideDeck 2 / FAQ
We recently learned that the Pinterest source was not working for some users. After some testing, we found a fix.
If you are experiencing the dreaded "No content found" with your SlideDecks when using the Pinterest source, please contact us and we can help you apply the fix.
John Botica August 11, 2014 • SlideDeck 2 / General Announcements
We've just released SlideDeck 2.3.10
This release fixed some visual UI bugs, a TinyMCE issue with Custom Slides, and some other misc. lens and plugin updated.
Important: If you have any premium lenses, it is advisable that you login to your dt account and get the updated versions.
The changelog can be found here.
Jamie Hamel-Smith August 27, 2012 • 39 • SlideDeck 2 / FAQ
First, update your copy of SlideDeck 2 to the latest version.
All of your current SlideDecks can be made responsive by simply adding the parameter "ress=1" to the shortcode used to embed it in the page/post. Here's an example:
[SlideDeck2 id=XXXX ress=1]
Simply using the "ress=1″ attribute will enable your SlideDecks to scale proportionally, based on the width of the screen that's viewing it .
We've got another attribute you can adjust; "proportional=false":
[SlideDeck2 id=XXXX ress=1 proportional=false]
Proportional is true by default, and when you set "proportional=false", your deck will use the specified height (in the edit screen) and simply stretch horizontally to fill the area the deck occupies.
Making your SlideDecks 'RESSponsive' will cause them to be embedded in an iFrame that reloads an appropriately sized deck when the page loads/is resized. Fear not, as your HTML markup is still present behind the iFrame (which is inserted dynamically).
Check out our demo site for an example: http://ress.dtelepathy.com/?p=6
John Botica July 20, 2012 • SlideDeck 2 / Tips & Tricks
Not sure where to begin with installing SlideDeck 2 for WordPress? Need a quick walkthrough on some of the awesome features available?
Jason takes you through the installation process, initial setup, and some of the features of SlideDeck 2 for WordPress. This is a great video to watch to get you started using SlideDeck 2 for WordPress.
Note: If you have purchased the Professional or Developer tiers, you must be sure to install the pre-requisite SlideDeck tier plugins(Personal, Professional Addon). For example, if you have the Professional tier, you need to first install Personal and then the Professional Addon. If you bought the Developer tier, you must first install Personal, then the Professional Addon and then the Developer Addon.
You can also view the video directly from YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYQf-O1OeYw
Bradley Kenyon May 31, 2012 • SlideDeck 2 / Tips & Tricks
You've eagerly purchased and installed the plugin while imagining how incredible it was going to be and how much time it was going to save and how many possibilities...wait, something's not right. Uh oh, I think it's broken... Fear not! You've come to the right place!
As there are an infinite number of possible setups for each installation of WordPress, it is impossible for us, as plugin developers, to account for every scenario. While SlideDeck 2 follows the best practices for plugin development as recommended by WordPress, frequently problems that arise can be attributed to a specific setup. So let's start by making sure our playing field is level...
1. Make sure you meet the minimum requirements and everything is up-to-date. Check this post for the full explanation of requirements: http://dtelepathy.zendesk.com/entries/21180728-what-are-the-require.... Basically, you want to check that you have WordPress 3.3.x, a modern browser, and the current latest version of SlideDeck 2.
2. Temporarily disable your other plugins. Sometimes two plugins try to occupy the same resources. Their ensuing duel can cause strange behaviors to bubble to the surface. If SlideDeck 2 works when it is the only active plugin, start reenabling your other plugins one-by-one until it breaks again. Congratulations! You've found the culprit.
3. Temporarily switch to an unmodified copy of the default WordPress theme (Twenty Eleven, at time of writing). Similar to the plugin collision, sometimes custom themes have hardcoded pieces that cause collisions and other strange behaviors. Is it working, yet?
4. Add "iframe=1" to your shortcode. Our "silver bullet" solution loads our plugin in an iframe to isolate it and insure all of the dependencies are included. If this doesn't fix it, the problem is likely a little deeper under the surface, in which case, we'd be happy to help you locate it. Check out this post for an example: http://dtelepathy.zendesk.com/entries/21158692-i-added-my-slidedeck...


text:
Tonal Wrap Scarves
Item #22320
Sale Price: $39.99
Original Price: $80.00
- Description
- Reviews
Each sold separately. As if painting with fabric, American designer Caron Miller creates these shimmery Tonal Wrap Scarves in her Santa Barbara studio, where she pairs complementary hues—Plum/Peacock and Burnt Orange/Burgundy—to drape, tie or wrap with stylish chic. Endlessly versatile. Poly chiffon. Made in the U.S.A.
Burnt Orange/Burgundy
Museum Provenance
They evoke accessories and garments in our American History Museum's extensive costume collection.
Every Smithsonian purchase will arrive with a museum provenance card explaining how it is adapted from or inspired by an object or objects in our collection.
View Size Chart
You may also like:Flowing Peacock Coat
Original Price: $165.00
NOW: $99.99Smithsonian Hooker Yellow Cocktail Ring
$100.00Circles of Life Jewelry
Original Price: $35.00 - $215.00
NOW: $24.99 - $169.99Reversible Trapunto Jacket
Original Price: $145.00


text:
|Original baby apron bath towel, Cuddledry
|Sleepytot Baby Comforter,
|Bug in a Rug - baby wrap
|Baby Keepsake By Carla Daly,
|Baby Clothes Bouquet, Googoogifts.co.uk
|Bonnie Baby gift set
|Pack of muslin squares
|PUJ Infant Bathtub
|Towelling bibs
|Safebreathe Hoppy and Patch, Safe Dreams
|Bloom and Blossom Bumper Gift Box
|Newspapes from the day of the birth
|Baby Lambskin
|Fisher Price
|ELC Rainmaker,
|Empty-Me Baby Bag
|Flatout Bear,
|Frugi baby gown
|Infant-Stim Mobile
|Miracle Swaddle Blanket
|Nippaz with Attitude - clothing and CDs
|Star chart for day, time baby is born
|Tiddley Pom Baby's First Spa Experience
|Tiny Love Double Sided First Book
|Tiny Love Gymini Deluxe Lights and Music Playgym
|Tiny Love Wind Chimes
|sunshine lollipops personalised canvas, art4chimps
|The Peekaboo Baby Gift Box, The Peekaboo Baby Company
|3-in-1 Swing, Seat and Rocker, Fisher-Price
|Wipe-clean top, bibT
|Baby gift box
|Babeeze Organic Skincare Gift Set
|Birth announcement canvas
|Baby Memory Book
|Aden and Anais Muslins
|Babygro, Toy & Keepsake Box by Doudou et Compagnie
|Easy Peasy Pod Baby Swaddle
|Fisher Price Sensory Selections Bouncy Chair
|Flensted Mobile,
|FloBib Designer Unique Baby bibs for dribbling
|Frugi babygro,
|Gift to a charity
|sleep gown by Green Baby
|Hippins Personalised Blanket
|CD Hush-a-Bye, 18 beautiful lullabies.
|Kids Rock Clothes
|Lilly + Sid Newborn Baby Gift Set
|little sleepy head cd
|Me-Feed-Me Bowl Fork Spoon Set
|Merino Knitwear for Babies
|Moulin Roty soft toys
|Rag Doll
|Organic Lavender Body Lotion,
|Organic Thermacell Wool Blanket
|Percy and Nell Art Print
|Personalised songs and poems
|Pitta Patta Organic Barrier Cream
|Plot-a-tot wall chart
|My Lullaby CD (by QC Music)
|Pyjama Cupcakes
|Rockabye Baby lullaby cds
|Teramundi pot
|Vertbaudet newborn set
|Personalised Baby Blanket, Your Happy Nest Baby Blanket
|Sleepy Wings, NewBornAndOver
|Baby quilt ! They are unique and new in UK, La Millou
|Sew Heart Felt Rabbit Slippers, Arden Gift Company
|Minimink Pram Papoose, Minimink
|Kizmet world personalised art for newborns, art4chimps
|Hushabye CD, Unaccompanied Lullabies
|Barbapapa, Pabobo
|Kids Wooden Growth Chart Ruler, Biplane Press
|Dwinguler Kids Playmat, Dwinguler
|Natures Natalie Ragdoll, Natures Purest
|Baby sense - womb to world CD, Baby sense
|My 1st Years personalised high-tops, My 1st Years
|Babies Go Take That, Babies Go CD's
|Nuby iMonster Snack Keeper, Nuby
|Ewan the Dream Sheep, Sweet Dreamers
|Hairbrush for babies, baby gnot
|SnoozeShade Buggy Blackout Cover,
|Baby Blankets,
|Safe Dreams Cot Wrap
|Nappy Bouquet
|Manhattan Toy
|keepsake box
|Home Casting Kit
|my first dolly gund
|On the Day You Were Born (Book),
|The little things you forget
|Mothercare Wrist Rattle
|Bobux/ Daisy Roots/ Bonne Nuit
|Apron style Baby Towel
|Sophie the Giraffe,
|baby clothes in a bouquet
|Children's cutlery set
|Baby Einstein
|Neal's Yard
|Peter Rabbit china set
|Royal Doulton
|Muffinmoo Painting
|Organic Lamb Rattle
|Raggy Tag,
|National Savings
|Slumber Bear
|Baby Animal Onesie, The All In One Company
|Chicco Rainbow cube, Chicco
|Swaddle Pod
|Baby's First Christmas Suitcase
|Olive & Moss Bed Bundler


text:
The Mikveh
Whether you're dunking for conversion, before marriage, for niddah, or for any other reason, here's what to expect at the ritual bath.
A Jewish ritual bath, or mikveh (sometimes spelled mikvah), can be found in almost every Jewish community (you can search for one here).
In larger Jewish communities you might have a choice among mikvaot (plural for mikveh).
According to the classical regulations, a mikveh must contain enough water to cover the entire body of an average-sized man (Babylonian Talmud, Eruvin 4b). The rabbis calculate the necessary volume of water as being 40 seah (most contemporary authorities believe this is about 150 gallons). The rabbis also specified that a mikveh must be connected to a natural spring, or to a well of naturally occurring water--like rainwater.
If you've ever visited an ancient historical site in Israel, there's a good chance you've seen a mikveh (Jewish ritual bath)--or the remains of one. The picture to the left, for example, is an ancient mikveh at the popular tourist attraction Masada--the site of a Jewish fortress community from the first century CE.
Since the mikveh at Masada was far from any natural spring, it presumably functioned as a cistern for rain, and the Masada residents immersed therein. Though stagnant rainwater could hardly have been hygienic, this mikveh would still have met the legal requirements to purify; in Judaism, ritual purity and hygiene can be two very different categories.
Know What You're Getting Into
But if you visit a contemporary mikveh, rest assured that mikveh architecture has come a long way in the past 2000 years. Today, systems for gathering water for mikvaot are much more complex--and much more hygienic.
Generally, a tank of rainwater is connected to a small pool that contains heated and treated (often chlorinated) tap water, much like a swimming pool. Since the tank and the pool are connected, the waters of the latter "acquire" the purifying quality of the rainwater in the tank. Nearly every contemporary mikveh has a filtration and disinfecting system.
When You Get There
Courtesy of Mayyim Hayyim,
a progressive Mikveh in Boston.
Jewish law requires that one immerse in a mikveh as part of the process of conversion to Judaism, and also that women immerse before getting married and when keeping the laws of niddah (menstrual purity). There are also various non-halakhic reasons that both men and women visit the mikveh.
When you arrive at the mikveh, if you are coming for one of the legally mandated reasons, you most likely will not go straight to the ritual bath. Instead, you will be assigned a private preparation room, essentially a large bathroom complete with a bathtub, shower, sink, and toilet. Before immersing in the mikveh, Jewish law requires that one thoroughly clean one's body, typically including taking a bath or shower, clipping nails, and brushing teeth. This ensures that there are no barriers between the person immersing and the mikveh water. Some mikvaot provide shampoo, soap, combs, and toothbrushes. It's best to ask before you visit so you know if you have to bring your own toiletries.
In an effort to cultivate an image of mikveh observance as relaxing and spa-like, many new mikvaot have lovely, even lavish preparation rooms. Some are equipped with jacuzzis, like the one at Mikvah Mei Menachem in Blue Ash, Ohio (right). You can take your time in the preparation room. Or, if you prefer, you can get ready at home and in the preparation room just take a quick shower before you immerse.
After your bath or shower, cover up with a towel or bathrobe (almost always provided). At most modern mikvaot, there is a bell to ring to alert a mikveh attendant when you are ready to dunk. Usually, the mikveh attendant will meet you at the back door of your preparation room--this door leads straight to the ritual bath. No one other than the mikveh attendant will see you when you walk from your preparation room to the mikveh itself.
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Did you like this article? MyJewishLearning is a not-for-profit organization.


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Charles Zuker, PhD
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|Seeing, Feeling, and Tasting: Molecular Genetics of Sensory Signal Transduction
|Columbia University New York, NY


text: Phoebe (Cecilia Cheung) is the daughter of two Kung Fu masters (Yuen Qiu & Yuen Wah) and started learning martial arts from the Kung Fu Academy on top of the Cloud Mountain since a teenager. Phoebe's parents are divorced and Phoebe soon graduates to be a Kung Fu expert herself but she has to keep her martial arts skills a secret. Phoebe falls in love with Dragon (Leo Ku) at her work place, but Dragon is suspicious of Phoebe's Kung Fu skills...


text:
Andrew M. Brajcich
Assistant Professor of Accounting
Andrew joined the SBA faculty in 2012.
B.B.A.: Gonzaga University 2003
Brief Biography
Professor Brajcich joined the faculty of the School of Business Administration in spring 2012 with a teaching emphasis in tax. He previously worked in the International Tax Services Group at Deloitte Tax LLP and is a fourth-generation Zag.
Selected Publications
Brajcich, Andrew M., Dan Friesner and Matthew McPherson. "Trends in the Shifting of Resources by U.S.-based Multinational Companies." Journal of Accounting and Finance, Volume 13, Issue 6 (2013), forthcoming.
Brajcich, Andrew M., Dan Friesner and Matthew McPherson. "Key Determinants of Repatriated Earnings by U.S. Multinational Enterprises." Multinational Business Review, Volume 21, Issue 3 (September 2013), forthcoming
Brajcich, Andrew M. and Daniel Lawson, "Minimizing Employment Taxes in U.S. 'S' Corporations: Levels of Compensation and Shareholder Sophistication." International Business Research, Volume 6, Issue 3 (March 2013)
Brajcich, Andrew M., "Tax Considerations for Clients Going Global." Journal of the CPA Practitioner, Volume 5, Issue 1 (February/March 2013)
Brajcich, Andrew M. and Daniel Lawson, "Utilizing Debt as a Tax Benefit: The Capitalization of U.S. Corporations and Owner Sophistication." Journal of Business, Economics and Finance, Volume 1, Issue 4 (December 2012)


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text:
Day of Remembrance
Wednesday, December 19, 2012 4:19 PM
Inappropriate photo? Alert us.
Birmingham Mayor Willam Bell declared today, "A Day Of Remembrance" for everyone who lost their lives to violence locally and in last week's school shooting. He called for a frank discussion on ways to curb the violence in the area with local ministers and concerned citizens during a prayer meeting at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama Wednesday December 19, 2012. (Frank email@example.com)
Related articles
- Birmingham mayor gathers church leaders to pray December 19, 2012, 5:22 PM


text:
At Microsoft, we understand small business use software differently than consumers -- and build versions just for you.
Shop Office 365 Small Business Premium
We offer Microsoft Complete for all of our PCs to cover any hardware issues, spills or drops, plus two years of support.
Add Microsoft Complete to any computer
Think of Microsoft as your small business partners. So, if anything goes wrong, you can contact our Answer Desk.
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text: Sun Health is 501(c)(3) medical nonprofit organization in Arizona that is committed to building programs that enhance the lives of everyone it serves. That's what Sun Health's Pathways to Population Health is all about. By definition, Population Health is an approach that aims to improve the health of an entire population. Sun Health has employed a variety of resources to develop healthy living programs that have the potential to enrich lives – for residents, patients, volunteers and donors. Read More »


text:
Holocaust Survivor
Holocaust Survivor to Speak
Irene Weisberg Zisblatt, a survivor of the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp in Poland, will speak at Tazewell County Public Library Sunday, March 1, at 3:00.
Zisblatt was taken by the Nazis from her home in Hungary at the age of 13 and thrown into a concentration camp. Her parents and siblings died in the gas chambers. For 15 months, she endured five camps, including Auschwitz, where she was a victim of Joseph Mengele's notorious medical experiments.
Before parting, her mother had sewn four diamonds in the hem of Irene's skirt so she would be able to buy food. In the camp, before every inspection, Irene swallowed the diamonds, then retrieved them later from her waste. They were the only connection she had to her family and she was determined to preserve them.
She committed herself to telling the world of the atrocities she had seen and experienced, but it took her fifty years to get over her fear and shame before she could do so. In 1994, Schindler's List prompted Zisblatt's return to Auschwitz for Poland's annual "March of the Living," a 2-mile walk from Auschwitz to Birkenau.
She recounted her story for 5,000 students on the march and later in Steven Spielberg's Academy Award-winning documentary, The Last Days, released in 1999.
That was the beginning. She has been telling her story ever since, around the world, testifying for the Survivors of the Shoah Visual History Foundation.
She often speaks to students about the dangers of complacency and the power of compassion, to encourage them to use love and hope to defeat hate and prejudice. She wears her mother's diamonds when she speaks to young people about the Holocaust.
"I hung onto these diamonds to hold onto my mother and her love," Zisblatt says. "I knew I must fight the darkness. I must live for those that I love."
Zisblatt, who lives in Florida, is the subject of a biography, The Fifth Diamond, co-written by Gail Webb and published by Ithaca Press in 2008. Webb teaches English at Tazewell High School. She met Zisblatt several years ago when she was selected for a program at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum which trains teachers to present the Holocaust to their students. They became close friends. Webb says that "God left the world the fifth diamond, Irene, to tell a story of hope, love, courage, and of survival. A diamond is indestructible, and so is Irene Weisberg Zisblatt."
Copies of The Fifth Diamond will be available for purchase and autographing. For more information call the Library at 988.2541 or visit www.tcplweb.org.


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1. CJM 2006 (vol 58 pp. 401)
|On Pointwise Estimates of Positive Definite Functions With Given Support
The following problem has been suggested by Paul Tur\' an. Let $\Omega$ be a symmetric convex body in the Euclidean space $\mathbb R^d$ or in the torus $\TT^d$. Then, what is the largest possible value of the integral of positive definite functions that are supported in $\Omega$ and normalized with the value $1$ at the origin? From this, Arestov, Berdysheva and Berens arrived at the analogous pointwise extremal problem for intervals in $\RR$. That is, under the same conditions and normalizations, the supremum of possible function values at $z$ is to be found for any given point $z\in\Omega$. However, it turns out that the problem for the real line has already been solved by Boas and Kac, who gave several proofs and also mentioned possible extensions to $\RR^d$ and to non-convex domains as well. Here we present another approach to the problem, giving the solution in $\RR^d$ and for several cases in~$\TT^d$. Actually, we elaborate on the fact that the problem is essentially one-dimensional and investigate non-convex open domains as well. We show that the extremal problems are equivalent to some more familiar ones concerning trigonometric polynomials, and thus find the extremal values for a few cases. An analysis of the relationship between the problem for $\RR^d$ and that for $\TT^d$ is given, showing that the former case is just the limiting case of the latter. Thus the hierarchy of difficulty is established, so that extremal problems for trigonometric polynomials gain renewed recognition.
Keywords:Fourier transform, positive definite functions and measures, Turán's extremal problem, convex symmetric domains, positive trigonometric polynomials, dual extremal problems
Categories:42B10, 26D15, 42A82, 42A05


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|re: ** GW 2: Guild Thread** Ole War Skule SERVER: DRAGONBRAND - Join Us!
Anet really fricked up this content release.
This post was edited on 11/17 at 11:06 am
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Posted by GeauxTime9 on 11/17 at 3:27 pm to VABuckeyeCan someone give me a rundown on the new content haven't touched it at all.
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Posted by WoodCrafter on 11/17 at 8:06 pm to DoUrdenYes they did, total horse shite.
I probably wont bother with this event's last day.
I may take a peek but the first bastid that says everyone into the water, I'm a gone ass, I hate water fights and jumping puzzles.
Loot drops are next to nothing, I've killed 84 of those little shits and got 1 shell, 5 crab meat, 1 chain mail gauntlet(vendor trash) and 1 chain mail chauces, also vendor trash.
Maybe the loot will get better after the event but if it doesn't I'll just go peck shite with the risen chickens.
I did watch about 50-60 people fail that one jumping puzzle, about a hundred times each, every one at the exact same spot. That was slightly entertaining.
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Posted by DoUrden on 11/18 at 12:12 am to WoodCrafterAfter the 1st day abortion I haven't even bothered with the other events.
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Posted by Sick Freak on 11/19 at 6:32 am to DoUrdenWell I log on just as they was killing the last event boss. Everyone got some good loot but little old me. Last night I did get a exotic dagger to drop but I can't use daggers and it only sells on the AH for 90s.
Did any endgame Karma vender spawn with this path? I have plans to hit the Orr karma armor venders but don't know if they came out with better.
Also I can now make 18 Slot Silk Bag so if you need some made just get with me with your mats and I will fix you up. It will take me some time to get up to 400 taioring but when I do I will be able to make 20 Slot Gossamer Bag.
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Posted by TigerHuck on 11/19 at 6:43 am to Sick FreakSick,
What mats and how many are needed for the silk bag?
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Posted by WoodCrafter on 11/19 at 6:51 am to Sick FreakI have to say that the last event was a lot better than the other two. A bit laggy here and there but nothing too bad. The loot was way better. I made just over 2gold not counting a 20 slot bag and an exotic accessory with +25 on all stats and 3% magic find. One of us got a precursor, warhorn I think.
What does it take to make those bags, I could use more space.
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Posted by GeauxTime9 on 11/19 at 7:54 am to WoodCrafterSame let me know the mats. Need a few.
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Posted by jefforize on 11/19 at 8:06 am to WoodCrafteryeah the event sunday was a lot better. pretty boring at parts but i got the legendary warhorn precursor, howl..so im not complaining. plus another exotic, 20 slot bag, the exotic earring...anet redeemed itself imo
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Posted by Sick Freak on 11/19 at 9:08 am to jefforize
I don't think they redeemed themself only becouse I was there for all the events but sundays and I did not get any fat loot!!!!
Lets see for bags let me first tell you, you will need 2 Silk Scrap to make 1 Bolt of Silk.
For a 18 slot bag you will need 10 bolt of Silk (or 20 Silk Scrap) and 1 Greater Rune of Holding (a vendor item that cost you 2 gold)
I can make 18 Slot Craftsman's Bag this does "18 Slots. If possible, crafting materials and upgrade components will fill this bag before other empty spaces." Mats for this is 10 bolt of Silk (or 20 Silk Scrap), 1 Greater Rune of Holding (a vendor item that cost you 2 gold)and
3 large bones.
I also can make 18 Slot Invisible Bag this does "18 Slots, Items in this box will never appear in a sell-to-vendor list and will not move when inventory is sorted" Mats for this is 10 bolt of Silk (or 20 Silk Scrap), 1 Greater Rune of Holding (a vendor item that cost you 2 gold)and
3 Pile of Incandescent Dust.
Fastest way to get Silk Scraps is to salvage light armor. Also if need be I can help you with some if you are short. All bags can be used and if you don't want them a few months from now you can put them on the AH. They don't become bound to your toon or account.
Right now I am at 338 tailoring but when I get to 400 I will beable to make 20 slot Gossamer bag. Mats for it is 10 Bolts of Gossamer (or 20 gossamer scrap) and 1 Superior Rune of Holding
(that cost 10 gold)
Yep it will cost you a boat load of gold to deck your toon out with all the finer things in game . So start farming people!!!
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Posted by GeauxTime9 on 11/19 at 9:12 am to Sick FreakAnyway I can farm the rune of holding haha I don't have gold to throw around.
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Posted by Sick Freak on 11/19 at 11:13 am to GeauxTime9The rune for the 15 slot bag is only 50s. Would only need 10 Linen bolts. You can alway use them for some time then sell them on the AH when you get the gold for the 18 or 20 slot bags. I have been slowly upgrading my bags.
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Posted by WoodCrafter on 11/19 at 1:45 pm to Sick Freak
Damnit boy, you should have me earlier, I have had 3 of those things and said to myself, "hell I'm never going to craft that stuff" so I sold them. LOL, I suck at the internet.
I'll never find another one now.
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Posted by Sick Freak on 11/21 at 12:54 pm to WoodCrafterI will not be on until late tonight. I would say just start the guild run with out me.
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Posted by Sick Freak on 11/26 at 11:13 am to Sick FreakThis weekend I got my tailoring up to 400 and now trying to farm mats for armor. So if any main or alts need some light armor made I will help out as much as I can.
Reply Back to Top
Posted by jefforize on 11/30 at 9:49 am to Sick FreakBump for the weekend.
With the creation of gw2lfg.com , we can now get a group to go anywhere, anytime we want.
Had no luck getting a SE story run going in la chat, went to gw2lfg.com and within 2 minutes, had a full group.
Completed my monthly achieve .
Guardian is full exotics (minus back), will be leveling up the ele in wvw, fotm , or open world this weekend.
15% karma boost banner tonight
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Posted by GeauxTime9 on 12/2 at 12:44 pm to DoUrdenSame i haven't been on much over this past week but once finals are over ill be on a lot during the break.
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Posted by Sick Freak on 12/3 at 6:40 am to GeauxTime9Jefforize like I told you this weekend I am liking the gw2lfg.com site. Was able to jump on and run Fract 5,6,7 & 8 with out having to spam chat for hours. I am still working on my exotics but still have some work to do.
Rukky Don't worry about them nerfs, they are hitting us all. Plus you need get back to make me some "Find Magic", I am to poor to buy some.
VABuckeye & GeauxTime9 when you are ready to get some 5 mans down count me in.
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text: Fantastic east facing apartment with great views over the cosmopolitan city of Palma and its beautiful avenues, conveniently situated near the best shops and cafés of the area, prestigious schools and the "Corte Inglés". The property is in a building from 1912 which is protected as a cultural heritage and has been refurbished recently with a modern and contemporary style. Large windows allow loads of natural light and warmth to flow trough the ample rooms. Extras include central heating, double glazed windows, built in wardrobes, dressing room and optional parking.


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Privacy, Information, and Records Management Services
ED's Chief Privacy Officer manages PIRMS, which has both an internal and an external privacy focus. Externally PIRMS manages compliance and technical assistance to schools, districts, and states regarding compliance with federal student privacy statutes and best practices. Internally PIRMS provides leadership, oversight, and coordination to ensure ED's compliance with states and directives governing the acquisition, release, and maintenance of data.
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PIRMS oversees the administration of the following federal statutes at the Department of Education:
- Freedom of Information Act (FOIA)
- Privacy Act (including privacy safeguards)
- Section 208 of the E-Government Act of 2002 (M-03-22)
- Federal Records Act (records management and retention)
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PIRMS is responsible for issuing policies, standards, and procedures that ensure ED complies with governmental information management requirements in the above areas.
In addition, PIRMS provides instruction and technical assistance to assure that customers and other stakeholders are informed and supported in the performance of these initiatives.
PIRMS is headed by the Chief Privacy Officer who reports to the Principal Deputy Assistant Secretary for Management.
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