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By now, most people know that new DVDs and Blu-rays are released on Tuesdays. Before spending hard earned cash, research and make sure the film is worth a purchase or if it should be rented. And remember, a talented actor does not always equal a brilliant film. Sadly, this is something I still have trouble grasping from time to time as well.
The two biggest film releases today include "The Amazing Spider-Man 2" and "The Quiet Ones." Both were films I longed to see in theaters, but sadly did not get a chance to see. With that said, I will provide a brief synopsis of each films and a few snippets from reviews to help make your shopping experience a good one.
"The Amazing Spider-Man 2"
There are not many Marvel films I have missed over the past few years in theaters. In fact, I can count them on one hand. Due to unforeseen circumstances it was not in the cards for me to be able to view "The Amazing Spider-Man 2." What made not being able to view the film even worse was hearing that I was not missing much. Sequels can be rather tricky in the superhero world. They either add to the lead character or they become filler films until the third one arrives in theaters two years later.
In this sequel, Peter Parker ponders a great internal battle within himself. Should he allow himself to live his own life or should he be the superhero that New York desperately seeks? This seems to be the common thread of every good superhero movie franchise at some point or another. While Peter is learning more about himself, he also begins to ponder who if those around him are his friends or his foes, and just what, if any, are their connections to Oscorp. Typical Spidey drama.
The film, of course, includes an extremely talented cast including Andrew Garfield, Emma Stone, Sally Fields, and Jamie Foxx. Despite having a talented cast, the general consensus is that there was too much going on within the feature. Most critics have come to the conclusion there were too many characters floating about the film and a lack of narrative to keep the "The Amazing Spider-Man 2" as brilliant as its predecessor.
Despite reviews such as Wesley Lovell's review, for Cinema Sight, which states, "Another lesson on why introducing too many villains dilutes the richness of detail available when focusing on one. A delightful reboot diminished in its second act," "The Amazing Spider-Man 2" is probably a safe bet for purchase this week for the majority of Marvel and Spider-Man fans alike. There's a small chance hardcore fans will absolutely hate the feature and most people will want to own it for their Marvel and Spider-Man collection immediately.
Bare in mind, not all reviews for the film were negative. Mark Hughes (Forbes), writes, "If the previous installment was a bit darker and more somber, this one retains some of that edge but then injects a massive dose of pure comic book joy. This is what a Spider-Man movie would look like if Marvel Studios made it," providing a bit of hope for the reboot's sequel.
"The Quiet Ones"
The main movies that have truly frightened me over the years are well told ghost stories and most films about possession. The tricky part of a good possession film is to take from the past and add something new. I have noticed over the past couple of years that most films are trying too hard to repeat the success of "The Exorcist."
With that being said reviews have me wondering if "The Quiet Ones" fall into "The Exorcist" trap. The film takes place in an estate outside of London where a professor and a team of students begin to run an experiment on a young girl, Jane Harper. The events that they uncover are supposed to be truly terrifying due to the dark nature of her secrets.
The film has a talented cast including Jared Harris, Sam Clafin, known for his role of Finnick Odair in "The Hunger Games: Catching Fire", and Olivia Cooke, who can be seen on A&E's The Bates Motel. With these talents alone, and after reading numerous reviews, in addition to review snippets, I would venture to say a rental is order to determine if the film is one's cup of tea before purchasing the feature.
In fact, "The Quiet Ones" does not have many positive reviews. One of the more positive reviews is James Rocchi's of Film.com review who writes, "'The Quiet Ones' is rated PG-13, but it's scarier than R-rated gorefests, like 'Proxy,' 'Nurse 3D,' and 'American Mary.' Anyone can create disgust; creating slowly-building disquiet is entirely another proposition." However, Ernest Hardy (Village Voice) confirms my fear by voicing, "Unfortunately, it's all very familiar and somewhat tediously played out."
While one should never judge a book by its cover, be cautious with your decision to purchase and rent this one first. As I said earlier, though, if "The Quiet Ones" is a film that interests you check it out no matter what the reviews say.
Finally, other movies out on shelves this week are "Fading Gigolo," "Only Lovers Left Alive," and "The Sacrament."
Please keep in mind, if you are interested in renting any of these films, make sure to check out this title through Videodrome, Netflix, Redbox, or on demand channels provided by your cable or satellite provider.
To purchase any Blu-rays or DVDs mentioned in this article please check out your local Austell Best Buy, Walmart, Target, or Kmart.
Enjoy your rentals and purchases this week fellow movie lovers!


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This week's CUDA Spotlight is on Jon Rogers of Texas A&M University. Jon is director of the Helicopter and Unmanned Systems Lab, where he works on new technologies for autonomous systems.
He is currently exploring new algorithms and sensing technologies to increase task complexity of robotic devices. His research encompasses the fields of non-linear dynamics, robust control, and high-performance computing.
NVIDIA: What problems has CUDA helped you solve?
Jon: CUDA has provided an entry point to GPU programming and execution that is highly compatible with our current guidance and control software. As we search for new ways to incorporate uncertainty quantification in real-time guidance laws, we are naturally drawn to GPU-based Monte Carlo due to its flexibility in handling nonlinear dynamics and non-Gaussian behavior.
We leverage CUDA primarily for parallel trajectory simulation, which means we have developed dynamic models for several vehicles (mostly aircraft) that run within a GPU kernel. Launching thousands of threads means we can run numerous dynamic simulations at once.

subset: commoncrawl


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|Welcome to the Home of the Great Britain Short Track Speed Skating Squad.
In this site you will find all the information you need to know about the squad as they prepare for PyeongChang 2018.
The 2012/2013 season was one of the most successful in the history of GB Short Track with Elise Christie becoming the first British Female to be an ISU World Cup Champion, as well as winning a bronze medal at the World Championships at 1000m.
GB Short Track are delighted to recieve funding from UK Sport the UK's High Performance Sports Agency.
Keep up to date with all the latest by liking our Facebook page or following us on Twitter @GBShortTrack.
|Tweets by @GB_ShortTrack


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Warning! Please read the Artist's Comments before reading this story! You have been warned!
The Maid at Rosethorn Hall
Chapter 2 - Blood-stained Memories, Bittersweet Dreams.
"Sir, your tea." A middle-aged man with an oval face and a long, pointed nose offered up a silver tray filled with various sweets arranged around an elegant antique teapot with matching cup and saucer, all painted with a fanciful design of roses and lilies. He was balding, but still maintained a decent amount of his dark brown hair. He dressed in a refined black suit, tailored to his unusually tall, slim figure. Vertical pinstriped pants emphasized this appearance, and polished black shoes completed his modest look. The bright red of his elegant shirt and a golden necklace were the only two things that offset the otherwise somber attire. He couldn't have looked more like a butler if he tried. His mannerisms were the only clear signal of his Breton lineage.
"I don't want any..." A figure sulked in the shadowy corner of the library, taking a sidelong glance at the older man before returning his eyes to his book. It was difficult to make out many of his features in the swath of darkness, but one could make out a slim but broad-shouldered figure, clad in a lavender shade of purple, offset by a bright yellow embroidery of crystalline shapes, fantastical flora, and fierce fauna from a land rarely seen. The only detail of his face that could be made out was the reflective surface of his triangular spectacles. There was just something about this figure that looked... sick...
"Sir, please. You must eat something. I know how you feel this time of year, but if your fasts get any longer, you'll starve yourself to death."
"Maybe it would be better if I did..."
"Now, you don't mean that, sir. Come, I picked up a fresh batch of sweet-rolls at Salmo's for you. I know how you love them." The older man set the tray onto the end table beside the younger male in his shadowy corner, sliding the small stack of books that had been there off to the side with deft accuracy, as though this was a common action that required little more thought than a reflex. "I bought your favorite blend of tea as well, sir. Apple spice." The Breton turned the cup over on the saucer, and poured a cup of tea with a sort of finesse that indicated he had done this over many years. He added a single cube of sugar and a dash of cream, stirring it with a sort of care and devotion that seemed such a stark contrast to the lack of effort it required. The younger male showed no interest in his servant's toils, preferring the black of the text against the yellowed pages of his book to the somber, pitying look on his manservant's face. "There you are, sir. One sugar and just the right amount of cream, exactly the way you like it." He gestured to the nobleman with the cup, but the young man showed no signs of accepting it. "Go on, before it gets cold."
"I don't want any, Haskill. You may leave me, now. And take that tray with you."
"My apologies, sir, but I'm afraid I'll not be doing that." The older male set the cup back on the tray, freeing his hands up to place upon his young master's shoulders. "Please, sir. I'll not see you kill yourself over this wretched self-loathing. I understand how you must feel about that tragedy, but starving yourself doesn't help a thing. You remember why we moved out here to the country, don't you? For your research? Are you really willing to put those two painful years to waste and end it all now?"
"I suppose not..." The younger mumbled, and closed his book.
"Then, please... eat, sir." Haskill picked up a sweet-roll and held it out toward his master, who took it disinterestedly The young man took a bite, chewing half-heartedly before raising his eyebrows at his butler as though to ask if he was satisfied with this compliance. "Very good, sir. Now, swallow." He spoke with a gentle sort of authority, and despite the hateful glance he received in return, he was quite satisfied to see the younger comply. "And some tea?" The younger rolled his eyes but obliged, taking a dainty sip from the cup and setting it back with a sort of 'so-there' attitude. "Thank you, sir. You put this old man's heart to rest." The man bowed to his master and began to exit the library. "It might do you a bit of good to get some sun once in a while, sir. Your pallor does not suit you. The other's have begun to think you're ill."
"Yes... perhaps you're on to something." The younger man walked into the sunlight, his pale skin a brilliant contrast to his red hair. Green eyes reflected bright flecks of afternoon sun as he opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. His ears peeked through the red strands of hair, professing a Bosmeric ancestry, but he had the strong jaw and the broad shoulders of an Imperial. His features were so mixed that it was difficult to tell if he was more one than the other. Ignoring the ears, he could easily pass as either race. He was handsome, despite his sickliness, and one could only imagine an even more handsome man could be made of him by adding a healthy amount of weight. He leaned against the railing, looking decidedly aloof as he stared absently out into the expanse of lightly flowered grass between the manor wall and garden gates in the distance.
Haskill gave a nod and a solemn smile as he took his leave. He was just about to shut the door when he heard retching of the most dreadful sort. "Sir!" He barged back in, scowl on his face, radiating all the disapproval he could muster. He pulled the redhead away from the railing and wiped the bile from his lips and the drool from his fingers with a handkerchief from his breast pocket.
"Heh... you told me to eat. You never said it had to stay in there." The half-elf gave a weak laugh. "You just don't understand, do you, Haskill? I can't die. The gods won't let me. It's my punishment... for that day two years ago. Don't you see? They kept me alive to torture me! If they were merciful, they would have let me die in the Oblivion Crisis!" The redhead tried to yank himself away from his servant's grasp, writhing in a fit of agony and despair, throwing what almost seemed to be a temper tantrum; something so out of character for the usually refined noble.
"Calm down, sir!" Haskill growled as he did his best to hold his master still; the youth had a tremendous amount of strength for a man well on his way to starvation. He was already so emaciated that his ribs were beginning to show, even through his shirt.
"No! I will not! Don't you get it?! Nothing matters anymore! Just let me die!"
"Sir, doing that would be a disgrace to you and your parents before you. Perhaps you are the one who does not understand. I have served your family for all my years, watched you grow, watched you live. If anything were to happen to you, I could never forgive myself. My life is but to serve the Abend family. Without you, sir, this estate... my life... is wasted. I know you are in pain, my lord, but you cannot do this to yourself. You are not the only one who suffers because of it! What would your parents think of you if they saw you now?!"
"Don't you dare speak of Mother and Father in my presence!" The noblemer roared, biting into the older man's hand in an attempt to force it to release his wrist. "They would think me a coward! I deserve death! By the Nine Divines, I should be cast into Oblivion and torn limb from limb by the werebears on Hircine's Hunting Grounds!"
"Hmph, I should rather think they'd find you utterly childish, and in need of a good spanking. Death solves nothing, milord. You must live. If you can muster the courage to see another day, then one of them may be your last day of torture. Happiness, my lord, is never out of reach! Your parents would have wanted you to live! To be happy! How can you do that if you are dead?! You are right to think the Nine Divines forbid your death... They will guide you to Aetherius when it is your time. But for now, you must live! I'll be damned if I let you do otherwise... These suicidal episodes must stop! My lord, one of these days I may need to have the Count 'turn you'... "
"You think I'm scared of Hassildor? Bah! I'm surprised that old vampire's teeth haven't fallen out yet!"
"Indeed, sir, indeed." Haskill finally managed to wrestle his young master back into his chair, where he was promptly strapped down by the wrists. "But he has much to teach you in the way of enduring eternal pain. As does the countess... And at least the man eats, for Aetherius' sake."
"Drinking innocent people's blood isn't exactly my definition of 'eating', Haskill."
"Sustenance is sustenance, my lord. And you are in dire need of some. Damned if I care if it's sweet-rolls or blood you desire, so long as you eat something."
"My, apologies, Master Richter. But Haskill is right. You must eat." A young woman with cat ears and a startlingly human face cooed as she fastened her young lord's ankles as well. She was tattooed with blue ink, designs enhancing the feline look were done across her face. She might have been able to pass as a Bosmer without it, though the ears were particularly high-set. But with her tattoos, she looked like a Khajiit, and Khajiit she was, despite her lack of fur.
"Aqua... I should have known you'd be helping old 'Buzzkill' here..."
"So amusing, sir..." Haskill feigned laughter, having heard the name used far too often to be offended by it anymore. "I was afraid it was going to come to this, sir, but I knew we had to prepare for the worst. I've had Aqua standing by in case I failed to convince you to eat. I must say, I never expected you to try a trick like that, but I had expected you to be unreasonable... She's been just as worried about you as I have. It's been three weeks, now, sir, and you were dangerously skinny to begin with. Every year it gets worse. I must say, I applaud your willpower; most people on the brink of death would have broken their resolve by now and gone on a rampant binge. However, no matter how admirable your convictions are, there is a point where ignoring instincts becomes insanity. We've agreed that it's in your best interest to survive, and if we have to disobey you and intervene on your behalf, so be it. Today, you will be eating, milord. Whether you want to or not." Aqua handed Haskill a deep ceramic bowl with a matching lid, glazed white and patterned with blue landscapes of deer frolicking in the woods and a pair of fish leaping upstream. "Now, I'll give you a choice... You may have your sweet-rolls and tea, or, if you refuse, we'll be force-feeding you clam chowder. I've had the chef make it 'choke-proof', but I can't imagine it would be the most pleasant thing to have forced down your throat. Potatoes and all that... What will it be, sir?"
"What do you think?" The redhead spat.
"Clam chowder it is, sir." Haskill uncovered the porcelain bowl and pulled up a nearby chair, seating himself before his irritated master. "Now, we can be civil about this, sir. Or we can do this the hard way..." He stirred the contents of the bowl around, letting the steam rise off it in gentle plumes, allowing the creamy soup to cool and (hopefully) enticing his master to comply by allowing the rich aroma to waft to his nose. "I'll give you one more chance. If you promise to eat, we will untie you. I'll monitor you this time, of course, but I daresay that's a right bit better than what we'll do to you if you continue this defiance..." Haskill lifted the spoon to his own lips and tested the temperature. "Mmm, the chef has outdone himself this time." He lifted the spoon to his master's lips. The redhead, stubborn as he was, refused the offer, turning away from the tempting morsel.
Now, a normal person might have attributed this refusal to the fact that another's mouth had recently been in contact with said spoon. This, however, was not the issue. Haskill had been the lord's personal butler and chamberlain since he was a lad, even his nursemaid when the occasion called for it. They practically lived and slept in the same room, and the young lord was so used to contact and close proximity with Haskill that nothing bothered him in the slightest, much less the man's health or oral hygiene (both of which were impeccable, by the way). Haskill, of course, understood the younger's refusal as the pure expression of self-loathing and depression that it was.
"Come now, sir. It's really good..." Haskill pressed the spoon up to his master's lips, getting the powerful aroma even closer to his nostrils, which (though the redhead refused to admit it to himself) was working. However, most of Haskill's patience had been used up prior to this, having to deal with the younger's earlier tantrum and deceptive purging. "This is your last chance, sir. I mean it." The younger male's lips remained glued shut, and Haskill resorted to Plan B. "Fine. Aqua, do it."
In seconds, Aqua had wrenched the young half-elf's jaw open. Haskill thrust the spoon inside and Aqua forcefully shut the redhead's mouth around it. The noble struggled, trying to pull away and spit out the mouthful, but his struggles merely made it easier for Haskill to remove the spoon and prepare a second mouthful. "Swallow, sir." The half-Bosmer stared daggers into his butler's deadpan gaze, refusing to make usurping his will a simple task. Haskill nodded to Aqua, who shifted one hand to cover the young male's mouth and the other to hold his nose. He held his breath for as long as he could, but eventually, he couldn't suppress the instinct to breathe any longer. He clenched his eyes shut and swallowed the mouthful, feeling the warm substance ease down his throat, gushing into the depths of his deprived stomach. Aqua released him and he gasped for breath, muttering vague curses at the two as he struggled to break free of his restraints.
Haskill rolled his eyes, and gestured to Aqua again. She grabbed her master by the jaw again, and the whole process repeated. Haskill spooned in mouthful after mouthful of the creamy soup. With each spoonful, Aqua clamped the stubborn lord's mouth shut, covering his nose and mouth, forcing him to swallow if he wanted his next breath. And, breathing being one of the more instinctual practices, the young manmer could do nothing but comply. Between every gasp, another spoonful was forced in, until eventually, the redhead could fight it no longer and just gave in. Really, the soup was delicious, he couldn't deny that. But that wasn't the point... Still, fighting every spoonful had grown tiresome, and by now his stomach had over-ruled his brain. By the time he had been force-fed about half the bowl, the young man had submitted entirely, and was now chewing and swallowing without Aqua's enforcement. Every so often, he'd mutter "Tea" or "Roll" and Aqua would lift the cup or sweet-roll to his lips, giving him the few bites or sips requested before he returned to Haskill's soup. At last, Haskill set aside the now-empty bowl on the tray, now void of tea-things, and sighed with relief. "That's much better, isn't it, sir?" The redhead gave an unceremonious nod. "Take the tray, Aqua. I'll stay here to make sure he doesn't try to 'relieve himself' of his meal..." The girl nodded and did as she was told.
The next few minutes were relatively silent, the redhead staring absently out the window as Haskill kept his vigilant eyes on his young lord. After a while, Haskill abortively offered other distractions from his lord's staring contest with the tree outside the window. "Would you care for me to read to you, sir? You seemed quite invested in that book from earlier." His lord did not respond. "I would like to untie you, but I'm afraid I cannot trust you. Hardly think the garden needs you fertilizing it with half-digested soup, you know..." The younger remained conspicuously silent. "Will you not talk to me, my lord? I do apologize for what we had to do, but you must understand, it is our duty to ensure your happiness. And we can only do that while you are alive, sir."
"I'm not angry with you, Haskill..." The redhead murmured, still refusing to make eye-contact.
"Then will you not let me know what you wish to do, sir? I hardly think staring out the window at nothing is the best use of your time. Surely there is some activity you can do here that I might allow."
"I'd just like to think for a while..."
"As you wish, sir." The air was thick with silence, afterward. Dead silence. Haskill stood dutifully at his lord's side, rigid and proper, as statuesque as the young lord, as though out of sympathy. A good half-hour or so passed before the silence was finally broken by a gloomy, depressed sigh.
"Why do they hate me, Haskill?" Richter whispered forlornly.
"Who, sir?"
"The Gods... why do they hate me?"
"They don't hate you, sir. The Nine hate no one."
"Then why won't they leave me alone? Why must I endure this maddening torture?"
"Perhaps... it is their way of testing you. I'm sure the Champion felt abandoned many a time, too. You know he started off in the Imperial Prison?"
"Did he, now? Heh..." The young lord scoffed. "Haskill..."
"Yes, sir?"
"I want to be alone..."
"I cannot --"
"Just out of earshot, Haskill... please..." The young lord wore a prepared, stern looking expression; but his eyes, those deep green pools of the soul, were reflecting a desperate sort of sadness that practically begged his compliance.
"Very well, sir." The older male backed up to another corner of the library, just far enough that he could still keep an eye on his master and make sure he wasn't doing anything suspicious or concern-worthy.
The half-mer lowered his gaze, staring first at his shoes, then his lap... Tears began streaming from his face, leaving salty tracks on his cheeks for the next tears to follow in. "Aster...", he whispered. "I'm sorry..." He repeated the name and apology over and over, losing more of his composure with each repetition until he was crying aloud, and Haskill had no trouble discerning the words, even before they became audible. This had happened for two years, now. This would be the third. This was one of the bitterest anniversaries anyone at Rosethorn Hall knew of. Aster died today. And every year after, a bit more of their lord seemed to die with the boy's memory. A year of grief was bad enough. But three? Haskill wouldn't stand for one year more of this. So he had hired a boy. A distraction of sorts. Someone from the new world, with new stories and new technologies, new things to teach the master. That had always cheered him up. He liked to learn.
"It's alright, sir. It's alright." Haskill unbound his lord and let the young male collapse into his arms. "I know. You must be exhausted. Let's get you to bed." He half-carried, half-dragged his disheveled master up the stairs to his sleeping quarters. He laid him out on the plush mattress, undressed him, and re-garbed him in his night clothes, though it was hardly afternoon. He pulled the covers up over the young man's chest, and fluffed the down pillows. "I know you don't want to forgive yourself. But he would want you to, you know." The redhead made no indication he was listening to Haskill. "I have good news, though. I've hired a boy from the new world... You remember, don't you? Aselia, in the far west? If the weather stays fair, he should be here within a month. That's something to look forward to, isn't it? I bet he'll have all sorts of stories to tell. And you could show him around Cyrodiil. I'm sure he'd love to see the wonders of our country. You can employ him in whatever position you deem appropriate. Who knows, maybe his knowledge and technologies might be exactly what you need to complete your research?"
"Oh, and the Argonian tutor I hired has arrived. Showed up just yesterday. She's got lessons planned for you tomorrow afternoon. Her Black Marsh name is too difficult to pronounce... so...", the butler laughed suggestively, "we've decided to nickname her 'Lifts-Her-Tail'."
"...Seriously?" The redhead snorted, a small smile flitting across his face for a moment.
"Yes. We thought you'd get a laugh out of it."
"Humorous, indeed..." the redhead muttered wearily, letting something like a weak laugh pass his lips. "Speaking of... another scene?"
"Of course, sir." The butler pulled a well-thumbed copy of 'The Lusty Argonian Maid' from the bedside table and began to recite it.
(Colto's Manor, Hallway, Enter Lift's-Her-Tail from Right-stage. She begins dusting a suit of armor. Enter Colto, Left-stage. He watches her with hunger in his eyes.)
Lifts-Her-Tail: Oh! Sir, you gave me quite a start! I was sure it was the mistress come to scold me again!
Crantius Colto: No need to fear, my sweet. The mistress has gone out this evening.
Lifts-Her-Tail: Well, that's a relief, sir. I can finish my cleaning in peace, now. There's still so much tidying up to be done. I still have not finished putting your weapons back in the armory. It took so long to polish them all.
Crantius Colto: Indeed. You are such a thorough maid, my dumpling. But I fear you have forgotten to polish one.
Lifts-Her-Tail: Oh dear! Have I?! Whichever did I miss, my lord?!
Crantius Colto: Why, my most prized sword, of course.
Lifts-Her-Tail: Oh, but I couldn't, sir! What would the mistress think if she caught me with your sword?! She has nearly caught me twice already!
Crantius Colto: Perhaps you are right, my little flower. You've polished my sword often enough, I think. Perhaps it is time for me to put it in your sheath?
Lifts-Her-Tail: Heavens, no, sir! The mistress would have my head! You are meant to keep your sword in her sheath!
Crantius Colto: But she is gone, now. Besides, my lovely Argonian, I think your sheath would be a much better fit for my sword...
Lifts-Her-Tail: Impossible, sir! My sheath is much too small for such a big sword! It would never fit!
Crantius Colto: You don't know that for certain, my dear. I could simply try it out. It could just slide in nice and easy.
Lifts-Her-Tail: You don't know my sheath like I do, sir. It's much too small. There hasn't been a sword in it in ages, much less one as hefty as yours. You'd have a hard time forcing it in. You'd probably hurt yourself trying!
Crantius Colto: I'm sure with a little time and effort, we could make it fit. Sheaths can be tempered, you know.
Lifts-Her-Tail: That sounds like an awful lot of work; it could take all night!
Crantius Colto: Plenty of time, my sweet. Plenty of time.
The redhead barely mustered a chuckle at some of the most bawdy and suggestive parts, but it was a laugh nonetheless. By the end of the scene, a small-but-permanent smile was set on the young man's face. Haskill tucked the book back in its place and drew the curtains. "Good night, sir."
"Good night, Haskill." The older man quietly opened an inconspicuous door beside the armoire and crept into his own sleeping quarters, shutting the door just as silently as he had opened it. He tidied a few things and set about doing the paperwork and bills when he heard the subtle creaking of the bedsprings and a quiet moaning and whimpering. He half-smiled, returning to his work. He had heard the sounds often enough to know what was happening. It had become something of a self-soothing activity for the young master, ever since puberty. Those alternating mewls and gasps were almost predictable, now. Haskill didn't blame the boy; he had hormones like any other young man, noble blood did not change his needs. Haskill had hoped for his young master to find a mate by now, but knowing his... well, unique tastes, that had become an unlikely prospect. But Haskill couldn't help feeling that if the young redhead could share his life with someone, he would get over this depression. He needed an intimate other, now more than ever. Really, any sort of companionship would do. Haskill just prayed that the young man would open up to someone soon, and let go of this pain he'd been nursing for too long. Something like a squeak followed by a sigh concluded the rhythmic groaning of abused bedsprings, and all was silent after. Haskill checked on his young master an hour later, and found him sprawled across the bed, in a nearly comatose state of sleep. The smell of sweat and... other secretions... was still quite strong. Still, it made Haskill happy... It brought the boy peace, and what Haskill could only imagine was the only sort of "happiness" available to the young man during this mourning period. He didn't mind having to clean the sheets as long as the master was satisfied.
He brushed the red hair out of his master's face and laid his head back on the pillows. He poured a glass of water for the young man and left it on the bedside table. "Sleep well, Lord Richter. May the Nine bless you with pleasant dreams tonight." He spent the next couple of hours tidying the room, re-shelving the books the young master had strewn across the floor, probably looking for the one he had taken to the library. He shook his head, knowing he'd have to retrieve said book. The master liked things kept in order, though he was decidedly counterproductive in that effort. Replacing all the books on their shelves revealed that a few were actually missing, and Haskill sighed, quietly exiting his lord's chambers and stalking down the stairs to track down the missing codices. He strode into the library and began digging through the pile beside his lord's chair, sorting out which ones belonged in the library and which belonged on the lord's personal shelves. He already knew which ones he was looking for: The Exodus by Waughin Jarth, Palla by Vojne Mierstyyd (both volumes), N'Gasta! Kvata! Kvakis! by the infamous N'Gasta, The Tome of Unlife and all three volumes of Corpse Preparation. The master kept a number of books on necromancy, which, though not illegal in Cyrodiil, was frowned upon by almost everyone. It was a misunderstood practice, and rightly so. Many of the most notable necromancers were the 'evil' sort, raising armies of the dead to do their bidding, for some unholy purpose or another. Lord Abend's intentions were nothing nearly as sinister, though equally lamentable. His story was actually rather like that of the narrator of Palla. He had been trying for two years now without success to resurrect Aster. He had made some strides, to be sure, and a few experiments were actually highly successful but came with... undesirable side effects. Haskill wished the younger would just give it up already; no necromancer in history had ever done what his master attempted to do, nor came remotely close, and the effort seemed to be taxing the young lord's sanity with every failed or partly successful attempt. But he wanted the young man to succeed, too. He wanted to see the boy happy again, like in his childhood. This 'research' of his was really the only thing that kept the redhead going, lately... kept hope alive in his heart.
Haskill gathered the heavy, unwieldy stack of books, wondering how his emaciated master managed to carry them all the way to the library in his weakened state. Probably threw them down the stairs and flung them a few at a time down the hall until he got them to the library. Or maybe he bundled them in one of his sheets and dragged them there. Either way, they were difficult to haul back up the stairs (Haskill lost his balance halfway up the stairs and dropped the top two books which he had to go back for once he miraculously got the other books to the top of the stairs without further incident.) He managed to lug them the rest of the way to the master's room without dropping any, and squeezed through the door without causing much of a ruckus. He carefully placed them back in their appropriate places, though the young master was sure to make a mess of the shelves searching for them again. He had just finished placing the last one when he heard a distressed moan from behind him.
"P-please... no... No!" The redhead was trembling , fingers digging into the sheets as if he felt himself falling. "A-Aster! Leave him alone! No!" The young noble balled up as though he had been stabbed in the gut, twisting and writhing in agony, crying out "Aster!" again and again.
"Sir. Sir! Wake up, sir!" Haskill shook the younger male by the shoulder. The half-elf awoke with a start, practically jumping off the bed and landing with a loud thud on the floor.
"Owww..." the noble moaned, rubbing his bruised tailbone gingerly. He shivered and rubbed his arms vigorously. "I feel... c-c-cold... and everything h-hurts..."
"You were having a night terror, sir. Nasty one at that. Didn't think they could get worse than last year, but I guess I was wrong..." Haskill held out a hand to the young noblemer and hoisted him off the floor.
Richter clung to his butler, still tremulous. "Vaermina's a bitch...*" he shuddered.
"Indeed, sir." Haskill replied, stroking his master's hair comfortingly. "Would you like... to talk about it, sir?" Haskill half-expected to be turned down; the master rarely discussed his feelings, much less on this particular subject. Richter was the type to withdraw when he felt vulnerable. To his surprise, the younger male agreed.
"Y-yeah..." Haskill guided the redhead over to a plush armchair by the fireplace. It was cozy there, though there was no fire lit.
"Something to drink, milord?" the older man offered up the glass of water he had poured earlier.
"Stronger..." Richter mumbled.
The older male nodded and retreated to his own quarters. He pulled a chest out from beneath his bed and unlocked it, pulling out a deep red glass bottle with a crisp white label. "Slowly, sir. Remember how alcohol affects you when you've been fasting..." The redhead nodded and he handed the young male the bottle.
He took a sip of the mead and made a face. "Yech... Tastes worse after a fast, too..." He took another sip and shivered. "I'm still cold, Haskill..."
"A manifestation of your anxiety, I would suppose. Your joints still ache, too, correct?"
"Yeah." Richter hugged his legs up to his chest, still pale and covered in sweat.
"Vaermina's followers describe the same phenomena. 'The Grasp of Vaermina' they call it, I think."
"That doesn't make me any less cold or sore, Haskill." The younger complained.
"My apologies, sir." Haskill collected the comforter from his master's bed and draped it over the young man's shoulders. "Better, sir?" The redhead nodded with an approving grunt, taking a heavy swallow of his mead. "Slowly, sir. Water is for thirst, liquor is for comfort..." The older scolded.
"Liquor is for what I decide." The redhead snorted. "Whose house is this?"
"Yours, sir..." Haskill rolled his eyes.
"Damn straight. Don't you forget it." The redhead stared into the empty hearth and took another drink. The awkward silence that had been invading their conversations reappeared, stagnating the air. Nothing, save the sound of the younger downing his liquor, interrupted it. Eventually, the young noblemer finished his mead, and he handed the bottle to his butler to be disposed of.
"Better, sir?"
"I am listening, if there is something you'd like to say." Haskill prompted. He knew it would sound too nosy if he asked directly, or too pushy if he reminded the young noble that he had agreed to talk about it.
"Good to know..." The silence dragged on a while after, and Haskill kept himself busy by tidying various corners of the room. He knew that would put the younger more at ease if he felt like he didn't have to talk, but had someone nearby listening if he did want to. He made the bed again, ignoring the conspicuous wet spot near the center of the sheets, dusted some of the untouched artifacts on the higher shelves that had been neglected for a few weeks, and lit a few candles in the room as the sun began to set outside.
"It was worse, this time..." The redhead began, causing his manservant to pause in the middle of sorting some papers on the desk nearby. "It always starts off the same... deceptively peaceful, more like a dream." Haskill set down the papers and stood attentively beside his young master, listening to every detail with genuine interest. "This time, though, I wasn't part of the Skingrad defense... It was just me and him this time. Alone, together. Just talking... just talking..." the young man trailed off, a bit of nostalgia in his voice. He did not look at Haskill while he spoke, but took great comfort in his presence and companionship as he recounted his traumatic nightmare. "It seemed innocent at first. We were sitting in the grass... overlooking the vineyards. We were sharing a bunch of grapes we nabbed on the way past the Surilie Brothers'... He complained they were sour." The redhead gave a sad laugh. "They were just perfect for me. We were just laying in the lush grass, not a care in the world. Everything was so calm. Then, the most peculiar thing happened... A stag beetle... crawled on my hand. So I lifted it, coaxed it to fly off. Then another came... and another, and another... Hundreds of them, crawling over us both, around us. He reached for me, grabbed me, and pointed behind us. They were all swarming, gathering in that... ghastly shape... burning like a funeral pyre. Thousands of them, now... And they parted, revealing one of those gates... that hideous burning rift into Oblivion. The sky was consumed by ash and blood red smoke. I could taste the death in the air, Haskill, like cinders upon my tongue. But it was cold, so very cold. I tried to tell him to get behind me, but I choked on the air. It reeked of sulfur and brimstone. I reached for him instead, still gasping for air that didn't seem to exist. His hand was hot and wet. I turned to look; there was blood on his hands, ungodly amounts of it, and he stared at it, horrified. 'Get it off me!' He screamed as more dripped down upon him, and I couldn't understand why this was happening. So I looked up. We were in one of those blasted Daedric keeps; corpses hung by their feet overhead, oozing fresh blood though they reeked from ages of rotting in the humid air. And he was screaming..." The redhead trembled and clutched the blankets about himself.
"I reached out to him, tried to comfort him, but my hands were bloody, too... He just kept backing away, farther and farther, until he was against the wall, screaming, crying. 'Where are we?! What's happening?! I wanna go home!' He clawed at the wall, leaving streaks of blood where he dragged his fingers on the corroded, rusted surface of those wretched pitch black walls. There were no doors; the portal from whence we came had vanished, and the eerie red-smog sky loomed over the towering walls of our prison like a suffocating tarp. There was no way to climb out, and the only thing below us was a sea of lava and the grating upon which we stood. It was about then that the wretched heat gripped me, irritating and utterly parching my already dry throat. I staggered over to him, grabbed him, despite his terror at my bloodied fingers, and cast a layer of frost around us. I shielded some ice crystals that formed between us from the ruby red rain that fell from the corpses high above us, taking as much refreshment as I could from them before they melted. Despite the magic origins, the water yielded was stale and bitter. But it was enough... It quenched my thirst enough to tell him that we'd be alright, that I'd get us out alive..."
The noblemer picked up the glass of water Haskill had left for him, quenching a real-life thirst as he continued. "I looked up, struggling to see some way to escape. I sought even the smallest sign that there was hope for us, a crack in the wall, a corpse hanging low enough to reach... I looked to the wall Aster had been pawing... there was so much blood... There were bodies pinned to the walls, too. The very sight turned my stomach; their skin was dark and moist, singed at the extremities to a coal black crust. Yellowed teeth were bared from lack of lips on the deteriorated face, and maggots squirmed and tumbled like a writhing custard of putrescence from their deep, eyeless sockets. Their parent flies swarmed hungrily about, landing upon us to take a sup of the congealing pools of crimson succor dripping on our warm bodies from the rotting flesh above. Organs were spilling out from gaping holes in their bellies, skin and muscle eaten away or melted off, Gods know what happened, but the flesh that should have held the vital pieces in those bodies was all but gone. Aster had vomited already, and the pleasant wine-like odor that should have followed with the grapes was a rancid ammonia smell... I held him anyway. He needed it... I needed it. I swear, it was like I was there, Haskill... It felt like I was there again. I don't know how long I was holding him before he was writhing away from me, wailing. 'Make it stop!' he would cry, 'It hurts! It hurts!' And before I could even think to myself 'What hurts?' the most excruciating pain lanced through every muscle in my body, crippling me. My body was not my own, only the pain. I collapsed, completely unable to control my own limbs, and I helplessly watched what little I could see from the sanguine smeared grating. His wails grew more and more desperate, and I struggled to right myself, but I was nearly paralyzed, barely able to lift my head the few shaky inches needed to clearly see the macabre scene before me. Fetid corpses rotting on the walls reanimated, grabbing any bit of him they could, clawing and biting, their flesh peeling off and sticking to his bloodied arms and face. 'Richter! Help! They're hurting me! Ahhhh! Make them stop, make them stop!' But I... I c-couldn't..." The redhead broke down in tears. "I tried e-everything I could to help h-him, b-but I couldn't... s-s-stand up... " the noble stared at the palms of his hands, as though seeing them for the first time. "Magic failed me... I couldn't s-so much as l-lift a f-finger... and then... it came... that demon Dremora, hideous and foul... and it... it..."
"Killed him..." Haskill finished for the now catatonic lord.
The redhead nodded. "All I could do was yell..."
"Yes. I heard."
"Did you?" The younger asked with an abnormal disinterest in the words, as though he was discussing something else entirely - he spoke in a way one usually makes idle chit-chat, or discusses events in the third person.
"Indeed. You called out in your sleep. 'Leave him alone', I believe, was one of the louder outbursts. Can't imagine what dreadful action would have warranted the desperate tone you used... It must have been a terrible vision indeed."
The noblemer appeared unusually distant and composed as he described the gruesome image that he beheld in his nightmare. Maybe because he knew it wasn't real, that it never happened, or because bearing witness in the dream had been traumatic enough that recounting it dulled in comparison to the actual experience. More than likely, it was just because he was in shock, reliving a tragic day in a dramatic, twisted, and infinitely more gruesome pseudo-reality. But the deathly serious monotone with which he spoke sent chills through the room itself... "It ripped out his still-beating heart and crushed it like a fermented apple. Thick, dark blood ran lazily, slow and viscous from the pulp that remained. Aster was silent, pale and cold in the arms of those death-headed bodies, literally in the embrace of death itself, Haskill, with the petrified expression of a frightened child frozen to his stiffening features. The corpses released him, and he fell limp to the floor, but... not dead... dying... With all the strength I could summon, I crawled over to his colorless figure, trying with every ounce of my magicka to heal him, somehow, someway... And gods, he was so cold... as if he was eschewing ice from the Void itself. His breath was ragged, raspy, but it engulfed me... it was the only sign he was still living. It was quiet, but it was in my head, the wheezing, hissing death rattle of his... And with his final breath, he looked at me with the most... the most... desperate, broken look. His lips were so chapped and pale... contrasting the blood now spilling from his mouth.... and he asked me... he asked 'Why didn't you save me?' and I just... I... just..." He said no more, raw emotion shattering through that erstwhile impassive facade, hot tears running the length of his cold, white face. If there was a way to verbally express the pain he was going through, he couldn't find it; he was only able to cry until his throat was parched and his eyes were red.
Haskill cradled the boy in a sort of paternal embrace, stroking the youth's lengthy red hair and whispering words of empty comfort. "It's alright, sir. Everything is alright... It was only a nightmare." He rocked the half-mer back and forth gently, until his young master had finally cried himself hoarse. The butler helped the lord to his feet and guided him back to the bed, tucking him in comfortably (despite the wet spot the younger male had made earlier). "Rest, sir. It will help..."
"Don't want to..." the younger whispered stubbornly.
Haskill knew why. More nightmares aren't exactly something to look forward to when it has had a history of recurring the last 3 years. "I think I can help with that." He pulled out a pair of candles from a cabinet drawer, one red and one white, with two matching silver candleholders. He lit the red one first, allowing a few drips of wax to fall into the base of the holder before he set the candle inside, helping the candle remain upright. "Cinnamon scented... to keep the nightmares away..." He repeated the process with the white and set it on the bedside table with its red counterpart. "And vanilla, to welcome the good dreams." He smiled.
"That's an old-wives'-tale. Scented candles don't really work..."
"Oh, really? Have you ever had a nightmare when I've lit these for you?"
"... No... " The redhead mumbled, remembering the last time he had had this conversation, when he was thirteen and having recurring nightmares.
"And have you ever not had a pleasant dream?" The butler smiled smugly.
"... No..."
"Then something must be working." The older male chuckled. "At the very least, the scents will be calming, and they should help you sleep." He pat the boy's hair affectionately and moved to leave when he felt a clammy hand wrap around his.
"Haskill," the young lord whispered, "I don't... want to be alone."
"As you wish, sir. I'll stay with you as long as you'd like." He pulled up a nearby chair and sat beside the bed. The canopy fluttered with a slight breeze as a calm summer wind mixed the candles' aromas in the room. And Haskill sat, watching the candles burn, waiting for his master to find peace. Many minutes passed, and the young male remained wide awake. Haskill sighed. There was one thing that had never failed to put the young male to sleep... but he was ... a bit rusty.
Haskill cleared his throat, thinking over the first few words carefully, before the rest finally clicked. He began quietly, in a soft baritone. "So many years have passed/ The dew is still on the roses/ I left my childhood/ In a garden green..." The young lord looked shocked at first, then homesick. He began to tear up, but did not ask Haskill to stop, so the Breton continued, despite his young master's watery eyes. "Come in the garden and look at the trees/ I used to play there when I was a child/ Squirrels and birds, little fairies/ Settled down there long ago..." He noticed as the younger male began to mouth the words with trembling lips and sang a bit louder, almost inviting the boy to join the chorus. "So many years have passed/ The dew is still on the roses/ I left my childhood/ In a garden green..." By now, the boy had started singing along in a quiet tenor, sweet and sad, like a violin. Haskill himself felt a bit of nostalgia, hearing the young master sing like that. "Come in the garden and sit on the grass/ I used to sit there when I was a child/ Ivy and moss, little daisies/ Covered the lane long ago/ So many years have passed/ The dew is still on the roses/ I kept my memories/ In that garden green..." By the last couplet, Richter was singing with all the saddened passion he could muster. "I kept my memories/ In that garden green." He drew out the last note, as if he didn't want the song to end.
"You sing wonderfully, sir."
"You're not half bad yourself, Haskill." The faintest wisp of a smile graced the young man's features for a brief moment. His mother used to sing this to him, when she was still alive. It was different when Haskill sang it, but the older man's baritone was familiar in it's own way, and soothed him nevertheless.
"You're too kind, sir."
A pleasant silence followed, and the young noblemer was noticeably more relaxed. Haskill idly picked up a book from the shelf under the nightstand and began skimming it, as his master grew drowsier and drowsier. The sound of pages turning seemed to help it along as well, another familiar ambient sound from the lord's youth.
"Hey, Haskill?" The young man whispered.
"Yes, sir?"
"Thanks for putting up with me..."
The old butler simply smiled in response. "Not at all, sir. I've served far more high-maintenance lords, believe me."
"Perhaps. But I've had no finer butler."
"You flatter me, milord."
"Take it as you will. It's the truth for me." The redhead yawned, closing his weary, tear-reddened eyes at last. "Good night, Haskill."
"Good night, milord." Haskill kept his word, and remained dutifully by his master's side all through the night, keeping his silent vigil until well after dawn when he finally fell asleep at his chair.
Only 29 days until arrival...
To Be Continued...
<- Back to Chapter 1.


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Julia Spencer
GASTONIA, N.C. - Julia Stewart Spencer died on November 28, 2012 at the age of 86. She was born in 1926 and was a native of Gastonia, NC, daughter of Roscoe S. and Julia Stewart Futch Spencer, and was a descendant of two of Gaston County's pioneer families. Her grandparents were Henry Harrison Spencer and Margaret Ann McArver Spencer of Gastonia, and John D. and Julia Ellen Stewart Futch of Monroe, NC. A lifelong member of First United Methodist Church, Miss Spencer served many years as a choir member, and as a soprano soloist under many different choir directors. She was a charter member and former president of Sharps and Flats Music Club, National Federation of Music Clubs; and she served as treasurer for the Gastonia Music Education Foundation and as treasurer for the Gastonia Community Concert Association, later serving on both Boards. She was employed at the old Citizens National Bank on Main Avenue in Gastonia at one time, and also served as a music specialist and teacher in Gaston County Schools, from which she retired. Miss Spencer enjoyed working in schools in Augusta, Georgia, both as an elementary music supervisor and as a junior high school music teacher. She was a soprano soloist in a number of Augusta churches, served as a choir director for Mann Memorial Methodist Church in Augusta, and was a member and secretary for Augusta Music Club. A member of Waxhaws Chapter, Daughters of the American Colonists, she also held memberships in William Gaston Chapter, D.A.R.; Delta Kappa Gamma, honorary teachers society; Alpha Delta Kappa, honorary teachers sorority; National Association for Music Educators; North Carolina Music Educators Association; as well as the NC Retired School Personnel Association. Miss Spencer graduated from Gastonia High School and Winthrop College, and also studied voice at Limestone and Queens Colleges. She was principal soloist with the Winthrop Touring Choir, blessed with a beautiful coloratura soprano voice. Her graduate work was at the Royal Conservatory of Music, University of Toronto, where she was a student of the renowned George Lambert. Graveside services for Miss Spencer will be held at the Old Monroe City Cemetery, Monroe, NC, on December 3, 2012 at 1:00p.m., with Reverends David Christy and Saxon Scarborough officiating. In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to Catawba Lands Conservancy, 105 West Morehead St., Charlotte, NC 28202, or to Cemetery Fund, (Old) Waxhaw Presbyterian Church, 2814 Old Hickory Rd., Lancaster, SC 29720. Survivors are her sister, Mary Anne Spencer Goodman of Gastonia; niece, Henrietta Spencer Goodman and grandnephews Cole Spencer Brooks and Scott Spencer Chaussee of Missoula, MT; and cousins Dr. Archer Hamner Futch, Jr. of Livermore, CA; Carolyn Futch Naylor of Jacksonville, FL; William Stewart Futch of Richmond, VA; Dr. David Gardner Futch of San Diego, CA; Louis Kendrick Futch of Candler, NC; and Ida Calhoun Scott of Austin, TX. Online condolences may be made at:
Carothers Funeral Home, Gastonia is serving the Spencer family.
Funeral Home
Carothers Funeral Home
312 West 2nd Ave
Gastonia, NC 280524093
(704) 867-6337
Published in The Augusta Chronicle on Dec. 2, 2012


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The Tennessean reports that the programs have been given until next summer to comply with the rules after Department of Human Services attorneys scrutinized the child-care center law and determined it had been misinterpreted.
Parents' day out programs fill a niche for people who don't need full-time child-care, such as parents who work part-time or stay at home but need a break.
DHS said in a statement that it would work with child care providers over the next year to explore any possible compromise.
Annual licensing fees range from $100 to $500, but state health and safety requirements could force some programs to close, especially if their buildings are deemed inadequate. Meanwhile, some providers are lobbying to change the law before the July deadline.
— Associated Press
Vatican postpones the departure of a church delegation to Syria
VATICAN CITY — The Vatican is postponing the departure of a Catholic church delegation to Syria, citing the "gravity of the situation" in the country wracked by civil war.
The church delegates are to express the pope's solidarity with the people of Syria and his "spiritual closeness" with the Christian community.
The Vatican's No. 2 official, Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone, said Tuesday the delegation, which had been expected to depart for Damascus this week, will leave at a date still to be decided. He said the composition of the group will also be changed but gave no details.
Originally the group was to consist of seven church officials, including New York Cardinal Timothy Dolan and the Holy See's top official for interreligious dialogue, Cardinal Jean-Louis Tauran.
— Associated Press
Bells at Mother Church of Acadiana temporarily silenced due to repairs
ST. MARTINVILLE, La. — For the first time in a century and a half, the bells of St. Martin de Tours Catholic Church are not chiming out quarter-hours or ringing people to Mass. The bell tower is empty.
The oldest bell is cracked, one of the newest needs retuning and the tower is being re-roofed, repaired and reinforced as part of renovations planned before the church's 250th anniversary in 2015.
The work should take about six weeks, said Phil Borel of Loreauville, one of a few certified bell technicians in the country. The church, founded in 1765, has no plans to use amplified recordings while that goes on. "We're going to be silent until we get the bells back," said the Rev. Rusty P. Richard.
Seven bells dating from 1850, 1904 and 1977 had just been removed from their stands, rolled on pipes to a small platform cantilevered onto the bell tower, and lowered by crane to a flatbed truck.
St. Martin's, one of Louisiana's oldest churches, is known as the Mother Church of Acadiana and as the place where many believe the original heroine of Longfellow's "Evangeline" is buried, though no historical record has ever been found to back the claim. The monument is a statue of Delores Del Rio as Evangeline, made after her 1929 movie was filmed in St. Martinville.
— Associated Press
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Superb property for sale in Taroudant, Morocco, close to the centre in a quiet location with easy access. The property has a garden with lemon tree and olive trees. Swimming pool under construction. Surface land 240 m², living Space 100 m², reception rooms 1, kitchen 1, bedrooms 2, bathrooms 1, patio 1, garden.
* Sadly, we have to ask you to place these letters or numbers in the box left, to protect all of us from spam email.
Making an offer to buy without visiting the property
Offering to make a down payment before visiting the property
Offering to pay under the table
Wanting to meet before visiting the property
Wanting to meet in another city or another country
Offering to pay via bank transfer
or any other offer that seems like fraud


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Problems with my Sansa clip+.....dosnt read entire data
Hey Guys
Looking for some help here.
Recently purchased the sansa clip+ and having some problems with data storage.
I have the 8GB version with a 16GB micro SD in.
The reason that I purchased is that I didn't want to be using my Samsung mini galaxy as a mp3 player all the time.
I have plugged the clip into my PC and moved vast amounts of music over to both the player and the SD card. All the files look fine in explorer, but when I unplug and the player tries to recognize media it just displays 2 artists on the player and a further 8 or 9 on the SD card. I've tried reformatting both disks but no solution..... I don't think its an issue with USB mode as its effecting the players storage as well.
Any help would be appreciated thanks.
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The problem is with your tags. The Clip+ needs ID3V2.3 ISO8859-1 tags when you are using the original firmware. If you install Rockbox (a free alternative operating system for the player) on your player, it will be able to handle more tag formats.
The free program Mp3Tag is very helpful for editing many tags at a time. With it you can convert all your tags to the correct format in one step. It could be that instead of being in a format the Clip+ doesn't support, the tags could be missing.
If you look on your player under unknown you will find the missing songs.
What bitrate is your songs in? If it is low, your songs are short, and you have embedded album art, it could be that you are hitting the song limit with 24GB of music. The song limit is up to 8,000 with the original firmware, however long filenames and long tag names, and especially large embedded album art could make this much less. To solve this try getting rid of embedded album art, or use Rockbox. Rockbox has a much larger song limit than the original firmware.
Last edited by JK98; 06-05-2013 at 10:28 AM.
If you look for your music in folder view you will probably find that it is all where you put it. 'Folders' should be at the bottom of the Music menu (my Clip+ is in the car and I'm too lazy to go get it).
Hey chaps
Thanks for the replays.
@Steve - in the folders section its just the same, I see two albums on the player and 8 on the SD card. A total amount of 127 songs are available. When I take the SD card and put it in my phone I once again see all my music and can listen to it.
@JK98 - there's just one song listed in the unknown section, which is a live recording without file information. As I said I'm far sort of 8000 songs, only just above 120. If you think rock box will help I'll give it a try.
It all looks fine on the computer when the player is connected, but then nothing when it come s to using. Maybe I'm missing something here, but I've been trying to correct for a time now.
Hmmm...the only thing I can think of is...what type of files are these? From the Sansa web-site , the Clip+ supports " MP3, WMA, secure WMA, Ogg Vorbis, FLAC, plus audio books and podcasts". The Clip Zip adds "AAC compatible (DRM-free iTunes)".
So if you have a bunch of iTunes files, these won't be found.
Make sure you have the player in MSC mode also
It sounds like a tag problem. You could try installing mp3Tag and using it to fix your tags. Did these songs work properly on other mp3 players? are you sure they are mp3 files? If they are AAC files then with the original firmware the Clip+ won't play them. Rockbox supports more types of files and more types of tags, so if your songs worked fine on an ipod, then installing Rockbox on the Clip+ is likely to solve your problems.
Also make sure not to insert or remove a card while the player is on.
What formats are the songs in? The player won't play WMA lossless, and won't play AAC using the original firmware.
If there are protected WMA files they need to be transferred using a media player such as Windows Media Player. Protected songs also need to be transferred with the player in MTP for the usb mode.
Last edited by JK98; 06-05-2013 at 03:59 PM.
I do not believe it is a tag problem. If the files are accepted they should show up both in folder view and in the 'unknown' album. MSC vs MTP problem, that only affects visibility when hooked up to the computer, once files are on the clip it doesn't matter how they got there. So that leaves file type, you need to see what they are and make sure they are compatible with the clip. Just because you can transfer a file to the clip doesn't mean it will be registered and will play, in fact what the clip actually does in such a circumstance seems not to be well defined.
It certainly sounds like a tag issue. I'd pull the files up in MP3Tag and make sure that the tags are filled in, and in the correct format.
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Dear Editor,
Mr. Froelich always has a lot to say in his opinion columns and I respect his every right to do so. This is a free country and his freedom of speech is guaranteed by the Constitution. But I must say his name-calling is very off-putting and it certainly distracts from points he tries to make.
He ends up coming across like a grumpy, whiny old man. Or perhaps, he enjoys the attention he gets like a child does.
That being said, I stopped reading his commentaries a while back when I decided my stomach just was not strong enough for them. Nobody is shoving them down my throat. Just as he has the freedom to speak his mind, I have the freedom to ignore them as I do Fox News. I do my best not to pollute my mind.
Ryoichi Morita, Coarsegold


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Jan. 19, 2014
CENTER VALLEY, Pa. - Kyle Wilson scored 28 points and Josh Herbeck added 18 as each player made key shots to lift Army to a 74-67 win at home against Bucknell on Sunday afternoon on CBS Sports Network.
The Black Knights improve to 5-1 in the Patriot League, while the Bison drop to 3-3.
Boston University tries to tie American at the top of the standings when it hosts Loyola Maryland on Monday evening at 7:30 p.m. on CBS Sports Network.
The recaps and box score from Sunday's game are included below
at Army 74, Bucknell 67
Box Score
*Kyle Wilson had 28 points and Josh Herbeck added 18 as Army held off Bucknell down the stretch for a 74-67 win over Bucknell on Sunday at West Point.
*Army led by as many as 11 points in the first half, but Bucknell fought back and was up 53-50 with 7:26 to play.
*Wilson cut the deficit with a pair of free throws, Herbeck put Army ahead with a three and Wilson added a jumper as Army used a 7-0 run to go up 57-53 with 5:04 left.
*Bucknell got within two points on five occasions until Herbeck gave Army breathing room on a 30-foot three-pointer with the shot clock winding down for a 68-63 lead with under a minute to play.
*Wilson was 6-of-6 at the line in the final 35 seconds to help put the game away.
*Wilson's 28 point night included 14-of-18 foul shooting and 6-of-11 from the field, while Herbeck's 18 points came on 6-of-6 three-point shooting.
*The Black Knights were over 50% from the field at 24-of-46.
*Brian Fitzpatrick led the Bison with 17 points on a perfect 8-of-8 from the field.
*Steven Kaspar added 13 points for Bucknell, while Ben Brackney had 11 and Cameron Ayers scored 10.
*Army snapped a seven-game losing skid against Bucknell and beat the Bison for the first time since 2011.


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|"Look, Mommy, I have a mustache!"
Since we like to go to the 'burg for the Fourth anyhow, it made since to head on in.
|I thought the wings were rather funny and wondered if he was part of a Red Bull campaign. ;o)
I have to tell you, we were so ignorant of celiac disease prior to B's diagnosis (an update on that in a moment or ten). I had always wondered why he couldn't just take the burger off the bun and eat it. Turns out, it's not just eating "no carb" like if you were on Adkin's. It is an autoimmune disease and it attacks the villi in the small intestines if gluten is present, which means no gluten. None. Not even a crumb off a crouton that had been picked off a salad. So, definitely no taking a burger off a bun. Not to mention all the cross-contamination I've been reading about. Yikes!!
We had burgers Wednesday evening and Saturday evening and that was that.
Lissie has this delightful "ice cream window" so she handed out cones after lunch.
We did make it to the fireworks, and they were wonderful. There's nothing like a small town during a holiday. We camped out on the hillside just past the Robo (JiffyLube?) on Patrick Henry Drive and the girls chased lightning bugs until they were exhausted.
|Oh that sky! I swear we don't get skies that deep or clouds that fluffy here.
Instead, we picked up gyros from Souvlaki and headed to the Duck Pond.
|That bench over there along the pond is the bench we were sitting on when Brien proposed. :o)
Sunday found us heading home and me racing to check my gardens. (I know, I know, shocking...)
Everything looks wonderful except for two dying plants in the planter--I have NO idea why--and the beautiful blue chip butterfly bush by the gazebo. It looks as if it too is dying. I'm heartbroken and can't help wondering if my voles might be to blame...
Monday we had swim team photos, a reconnaissance mission to price gf foods (don't even get me started!), and then home to clean only to head back out for swim meet.
Yesterday we had out of town company for the day (Joe and his family), and today the girls and I visited (however briefly) with Nana and Pop and GG at CW. Yes, that's right, GG's here for a visit! :o) Hooray! :o)
So, yes, I've been busy. VERY busy. I stole this time to update so I'd remember everything. Now I'm off to fold laundry, empty the dishwasher and clean up the lunch mess...
Oh, and quickly, Brien heard back from the doctor last Friday that he has multiple alleles that show celiac. Dr. F said he would call to set up a preop appointment with a GI and B just found out it's not until August 28!! We both find this rather frustrating as we are ready to go gf so he can be healed. We know what the problem is, let's just do it! And we can't!!!! ARGH!
Oh, and I called the pediatrician Monday about having the girls tested for celiac and the MTHFR (B has double heterozygous MTHFR mutation--clear as mud). I had wanted to speak with Dr. Jen about it all, but for now, am waiting for her to order the blood tests and we'll talk afterward.


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Picnic Prep is Easy with the Help of the Bulk Food AisleAugust 11, 2009DiscoverBulk Admin 1 Comment »
Looking for a quick and easy side dish to take to your picnic this weekend? Look no further than the bulk food aisle, where you can find quick and easy mixes for traditional picnic dishes such as Amish Macaroni Salad, Dutch Potato Salad, and Pickled Red Beet Eggs. Reach for a jar of classic Pennsylvania Dutch treats such as chow-chow and bean salad for a simple side that can go from jar to plate in seconds. Don't forget to pick up your favorite seasonings to flavor your flame grilled burgers and bar-b-que chicken. There are even refreshing mixes for delicious drinks such as sweet tea and lemonade to keep your guests' glasses full without a lot of hassle. Most importantly, remember to enjoy the fun, family, friends (and food!) that accompany this weekend.


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Entries open midday (Taiwan time) on October 2, 2015.
IRONMAN Taiwan Registration Fee:
|Entry Period
|Entry Fee
|Early Bird
|USD $550 (+8% Active Fee)
|USD $600 (+8% Active Fee)
|Relay Teams
|Entry Period
|Entry Fee
|Early Bird
|USD $660 (+8% Active Fee)
|USD $750 (+8% Active Fee)
Active Fee increased from 6% to 8% on 1 January 2016
Important Date: All athletes must complete the onsite Check-In procedure by 12 p.m. on Saturday, October 1, 2016. Any athlete who does not Check-In by this time will not be eligible to race. Please refer to the event schedule when available for full details. Contact the organizer at firstname.lastname@example.com if any issues occurs.
All registrations are non-refundable after the specified cancellation dates. Registrations are Non-Transferrable.
Athletes confirmed in the race who wish to withdraw, must do so in writing to the race office via email firstname.lastname@example.com.
It is the athletes' responsibility to ensure the race office has received any communication. All requests will be responded to. If you do not receive a response from the race office within 7 days of request, it should be assumed that it has not been received and you should contact us by phone +886-28226-7300.
Upon confirmation of this request, athletes may be eligible for a partial refund of their entry fee (details below):
ACTIVE Fees and FinisherPix Fees paid at the time of entry are non-refundable at any time.
For those who prefer to race in shorter distances, full distance IRONMAN Taiwan Relay and an Olympic Distance race, 5150 Penghu, are also good choices!


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Will be forced to retire due to chronic back pain ... finishes his UW career just shy of Washington's all-time top-10 in the javelin ... a two-time Pac-10 Championships qualifier, and a participant in the IAAF World Junior Championships in 2004.
2004-05: Was limited to just two competitions by a back injury ... placed second at the WSU Dual, at 211-7, and 14th at the Pac-10 Championships. 2003-04: Ranked 27th in the NCAA in the javelin, and was No. 2 among collegiate freshmen ... just missed an NCAA Championships berth ... placed fourth in the javelin at the Pac-10 Championships with a toss of 218-1 ... one of three Huskies to score in the javelin at Pac-10s ... was seventh in the event at the NCAA West Regional ... won the javelin at the WSU Dual with a career-best throw of 221-0, just three feet shy of UW's all-time top-10 ... placed second in the javelin at the U.S. Junior Nationals to qualify for the IAAF World Junior Championships in Grosseto, Italy ... won three javelin competitions in 2004, including his UW debut at the Cal Poly Invite.
High School and Personal: Parents are Maureen and Mark ... has two siblings, John and Lisa ... earned Track and Field News Prep All-America honors with a best mark of 213-1 in the javelin that ranked fourth in the nation in 2003 ... placed fourth in the javelin at the 2003 Golden West Invitational with a throw of 201-8 ... placed 14th in the event at the 2002 U.S. Junior National Championships ... took third at the 2003 Oregon state meet with a throw of 192-9 ... earned two district titles during his prep career ... lettered all four years, and served as captain in 2003 ... excelled in basketball, leading Hillsboro to a second-place state finish in 2003 ... 108 blocks in 2003 were a school record ... was also outstanding in the classroom, earning a 3.7 prep GPA.
UW Career Bests
Javelin....... 221-0


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As I have previously reported, the title of the 2013–14 season of San Francisco Renaissance Voices (SFRV) is Kol Israel: The Voice of Judaism in Early Music, a series of programs curated by Rabbi Reuben Zellman, currently completing a Master of Music degree at San Francisco State University in the area of early music and the Jewish choral repertoire. Last season Zelman was one of the performers in the SFRV production of The Play of Daniel; and the jewel in this season's crown, so to speak, will be another semi-staged production. This will be the opera Esther, composed by Cristiano Giuseppe Lidarti for the Jewish Portuguese Community in Amsterdam in 1774.
The opera itself has an interesting history. The libretto was prepared by Rabbi Jacob Saraval, who took the libretto for George Frideric Handel's 1718 HWV 50 Esther oratorio (performed last summer by the American Bach Soloists) and translated it into Hebrew. (Ironically, HWV 50 was Handel's first major setting of a text in the English language.) Records are unclear as to whether Lidarti's opera was performed during his lifetime, and the score was only recently rediscovered in 1999. SFRV will present four performances that will provide this music with its United States premiere.
The San Francisco performance will begin at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday, March 22. As with other SFRV concerts, the venue will be the Seventh Avenue Presbyterian Church (1329 Seventh Avenue, located just south of Golden Gate Park and near the Muni N Line stop at the corner of Irving Street and Seventh Avenue). Tickets are $30 for general admission, $25 for students and seniors, and $20 for children under twelve years of age. They may be purchased in advance through a Brown Paper Tickets event page. In addition, Zellman will be giving a pre-concert talk, which will begin at 6:45 p.m.


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Reference Books
The Reference collection is usually an excellent starting point for research projects. Reference books are non-circulating items (they cannot be checked out) and are designed to be used to look for specific information rather than read cover to cover. Additionally, reference books contain bibliographic records that can lead to the discovery of further resources to support one's thesis. In some instances, the reference books are compiled or supported by primary source documents or case studies.
American economic history
The encyclopedic dictionary of economics
The Economist guide to economic indicators : making sense of economics
Encyclopedia of the global economy : a guide for students and researchers
World economic and social survey
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World economic situation and prospects
Guide to economic indicators
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The American marketplace : demographics and spending patterns
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International encyclopedia of the stock market
Economic Databases
Academic Search Complete provides abstracts, and full text for many scholarly publications covering all academic areas of study.
Business Search Complete provides full text scholarly articles as well as bibliographic information on all business disciplines including economics and finance.
International Political Science Abstracts indexing and abstracts of journals covering international politics.
Lexis Nexis Academic offers full text articles on business from both national and international sources that update daily.
PAIS International index and abstracts articles, books and government documents concerning public affairs and policy.
Electronic Journal Center; Economic Theoryfull text academic journals covering various aspects of economic theory.
Electronic Journal Center; Management and General Economics full text academic journals that focus on business mangement and economics.
Directory of Open Access Journals, Economics international collection of full text open access academic journals on economics.
Economic Web Resources
Economicae(http://www.unc.edu/depts/econ/byrns_web/Economicae/EconomicaeA.htm) is an online illustrated encyclopedia of economics that covers both economic terminology and theory as well as economic formulae.
FRASER(http://fraser.stlouisfed.org/) is the Fedral Reserve Archival System for Economic Research whose mission it is to provide economic information and data for research on the American economy.
The Library of Economics and Liberty(http://www.econlib.org/) "is dedicated to advancing the study of economics, markets, and liberty" as well promoting economic research.
Economics Statistics Briefing Room(http://www.whitehouse.gov/fsbr/esbr.html) provides easy access to federal economic indicators.
The EH.Net Encyclopedia of Economic and Business History(http://eh.net/encyclopedia/) is designed to provide quality reference articles relating to business and economic history for both laymen and academics.
Liber8; an Economic Information Portal(http://liber8.stlouisfed.org/)from the Federal Reserve includes current economic indicators, recent research and links to other economic resources.
Major Schools of Economic Theory(http://www.frbsf.org/publications/education/greateconomists/grtschls.html#A6) created by the Federal Reserve provides brief synopses of the various schools of economic theory.
Virtual Economy(http://www.bized.co.uk/virtual/economy/) is an educational site out of the UK that uses economic theory, case studies and computer models to facilitate comprehending economic policy and the impact it has on various sectors of society.
NBER National Bureau of Economic Reseaarch(http://www.nber.org/databases/macrohistory/contents/) is a macrohistory database that provides information on economic indicators from pre-WW1 to the present day. Although the US economy constitutes a large part of the focus, historic economic information is available on the UK, France and Germany as well.
Asian Development Bank(http://www.adb.org/) in effort to eliminate poverty in the Asian Pacific region, the ADB monitors economic indicators throughout the region and provides research as well as data on the overall economic climate.
World Bank(http://www.worldbank.org/) webite for the World Bank that provides news, in depth analysis of current global economic crises and situations as well information on developmental projects in emerging countries.
Political Economy(http://www.marxists.org/archive/index.htm#political-economy) digitized full text of classics of political economics from 1673 to 1936 compiled by the Marxist Internet Archive.
International Trade Centre(http://www.intracen.org/) is a policy and research center for the development of international trade that also provides tools for market analysis.
Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (http://www.fdic.gov/) FDIC offers up to date information on banks as well as responses and programs that address the current economic crisis.
Questions or comments, contact:
Michael Billings, Reference Librarian
Questions or comments, contact:
Michael Billings, Reference Librarian


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Opening Date:
August 29, 2014
Ben Feldman, Perdita Weeks, Edwin Hodge, James Pasierbowicz, Oscar Zhang, Josh Kervarec
John Erick Dowdle
Horror, Suspense/Thriller
Run Time:
1 hr. 33 min.
MPAA Rating:
R for bloody violence/terror, and language throughout
A thriller centered on two archaeologists in search of a lost treasure in the catacombs below Paris.
As Above, So Below (R)
Click bold theatre name for showtimes and tickets.
Showtimes available three days prior to opening.
Showtimes available three days prior to opening.


text:
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on orders $75+
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Wolfe FX Face Paint Palettes
Wolfe Face Paint Palettes are available in 6 and 12 color face paint sizes, 0.18 oz (5 grams) each, one face paint brush and a sturdy travel case. The Build Your Own Wolfe Palette comes with your choice of 12 Wolfe 30 oz paints. FacePaint.com carries everything from Wolfe Face Paint Essential Palettes to the Wolfe Brothers Face Paint Neon Palettes.
Wolfe face paints have dense pigmentation providing brilliant color, opaque coverage, and easy application. Uniquely in the face paint world, Wolfe FX Hydrocolor makeup has a wax base so they flex with movement instead of cracking so your face paint designs stay beautiful for longer. Once applied, Wolfe face paint will not smear under normal circumstances, remain bright and colorful, and is comfortable to wear.
Please note: the US FDA recommends against using red, yellow, orange or purple facepaints near the eyes and or using blue, green or purple facepaints near the lips to avoid possible staining issues.
How Many Faces Will This Paint?
- Each 6 color Wolfe Face Paint Palette is good for 50-200 applications.
- Each 12 color Wolfe Face Paint Palette is good for 100-300 applications.
More Information on Wolfe Face Paint:
Top Selling Products
Wolfe Essentials Face Paint Palettes (12/colors)
Product ID : F10700
Sale Price: $29.10
Wolfe Palettes - Essentials (6/colors)
Product ID : f10701
Sale Price: $15.50
Wolfe Metallix Face Paint Palettes (6/colors)
Product ID : F10704
Sale Price: $19.40
Wolfe Skinz Face Paint Palettes (6/colors)
Product ID : F10705
Sale Price: $15.50
Wolfe Build Your Own Face Paint Palettes (12 Colors)
Product ID : F10699 SP
Sale Price: $113.76
Wolfe F/X Mini Appetizer Palette (6/Colors) - Pearl
Product ID : F12810


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CD of the Month
The Life 97.9 CD of the Month is "Thrive" from Casting Crowns. Listen this month for a chance to win yours, thanks to Family Christian Store in the West Acres Mall.
So many of us today are simply surviving. But we were not made to survive, we were made to Thrive! We should be digging into God's word to know Him and know who He has made us to be. We should be reaching out to the world and showing others who He is through our lives and our stories – knowing Him and making Him known.
Thrive, the seventh studio album from Casting Crowns, is packed with the band's signature style of songs about real life that redefine our identity in Christ, pointing us to our purpose from Him so that we may carry it out through Him. Featuring 12 brand new songs, including the lead single "All You've Ever wanted," the album centers on the themes of "Reaching Out" and "Digging Deep."