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Hanging in mid-air and obscured by inky shadows that spilled out from the water tower topping a warehouse on 295th Street, the Wing used his hyper-acute senses to track two figures across the street as they emerged from the main building of the Belfrey Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The asylum's tall, wrought-iron gate may have obscured some of the finer details of their faces and bearing, but the Wing knew both men well.
The shorter of the two, Archibald T. Pupper, a.k.a. Archetype—the most formidable foe the Wing had ever faced—had murdered the Wing's first manservant Raja, more than two dozen policemen, and countless others. He had stolen millions in jewelry, artwork, munitions—even historical landmarks such as the Metropolitan Fountain, and the Knightsborough Bridge. He had caused billions more in property damage and had repeatedly violated the well-being of every man, woman, and child in Excelsior City.
Despite this, the medical board at Belfry Hospital had seen fit to parole Pupper not once, not twice, but—as of this very night—three times. Even so, the Wing did not find himself concerned as he watched Pupper walk to the gate, accompanied by the noted neurosurgeon Dr. Van Hellion, himself a reputedly-reformed super-villain. Pupper looked frail tonight, his wily, maniacal mind hidden in the deceptively meek frame of his face. He was wearing inmate's whites, not the burgundy riding coat and yellow jodhpurs he favored as Archetype, and he clasped his little sack of personal items in a pinched grip, like an old woman gingerly squeezing a coin purse. His hair had been thinning from the first and now, after his latest stint behind Belfry's walls, he was completely bald.
He is getting old, thought the Wing, but he knew that age wouldn't stop Archetype. First thing, no doubt, Pupper would serve his vanity and procure a toupee—following that, maniacal plots and outrageous crimes were sure to follow. The Wing, however, did not find the prospect worrying in the least. When Archetype strayed again, the Wing would catch him again—and again after that if he must, same as always.
Van Hellion shook his patient's hand farewell, then turned back to the dark halls of Belfry. Pupper minced his way up 295th Street until he reached North 40th Avenue, where he stopped to wait for the bus. He had no minions to call for transport now—the Wing had finished them, too, years ago—but the Wing knew it would not take long for someone with Archetype's reputation to assemble a new crime army.
Pupper, seemingly oblivious to the Wing's scrutiny, sank down on the lonely bus-stop bench to wait. He displayed no emotion when the Wing left the shadows and dropped into the street, inches from his face, nor did the Wing expect him to. They had played out such scenes together countless times.
"Evening, Archie," rasped the Wing.
"Good evening, Wing."
"Interesting timing."
"Of what, Wing?"
"Your parole. It coincides with the unveiling of the Venus Diamond at The Excelsior City Supernatural Wonders Museum."
"Ah," said Pupper. "Interesting indeed, but I'm afraid I haven't the time to peruse cultural exhibitions. I would enjoy attending the event, were it not for a rather full schedule of rehabilitation therapies monopolizing my time." Archie folded his hands together and rested them on his lap. "Tell me how the unveiling goes, won't you?"
"I'm watching you," said the Wing. Then he made himself disappear. Archetype could consider himself warned.
The Wing glided above the city, tower to tower, rooftop to rooftop, back toward the Lower East End for a quick patrol. It had been a quiet night, a quiet week, a quiet month. Now, with Archetype free, the respite was near its end. The Wing's thoughts turned to the past as buildings flew by.
Archetype had been first in an almost endless line of super-foes. Over the years—the decades—the Wing had faced and defeated hundreds of such villains. They ranged from the truly deranged like Archetype—Fastdollar, Vertigo, The Theist, Night Musik, and Ironclad—to the merely violent: Henchman, Sap, Shellacker, and The Knuckler.
Others, like SuperZero, Toy Boy, The Gosling, and Shenanigan, were more nuisance than foe. Then there were the good but misguided, such as EcoTerror, The Downtowner, and Incoming. The repulsive: Firebelly, Sheeptick, Toxicity. The short-lived: Midas Murphy, Monocle Man, Mr. Midget. Some had appeared once or twice in subsequent decades only to vanish; gone now, they were fads of an era long-past: Sheik, Sister Sappho, Joint, V-8, Bolero, and Cherry (or was it Apricot?). There were the Jacks, too—Jackknife, Jackboot, Jackdaw, Jackanapes, Jackalope, Jackpot, Jackal, Jacqueline the Ripper, Jackhammer and, decades later, an unrelated Hammerjack. The truly apocalyptic were, thankfully, far fewer: Ion, Cassandra, and Doc Apocalypse.
Then there were the women, each one unforgettable: Irony, Trio, Heartbreak, Crescendo—the Wing had fought all comers. Every time, with everything at stake, at the last possible minute, defeat certain, he'd found a way to prevail. They kept coming anyway, or they had until these recent, calmer times.
In the beginning, the Wing had worn leotards and a cape. Then he dropped the cape and replaced the leotards with leather. The thick, body-protecting rubber armor he favored now was sculpted to resemble the physical definition he'd had naturally in youth, but found impossible to maintain as he aged. He did not mourn the loss; with age came experience. Fighting skills and acrobatics, he discovered after years of lessons learned the hard way, were the least of his crime-fighting tools.
No matter the uniform, though, he'd always worn the same mask. The mask defined him. He felt most alive when, as now, he wore the mask and glided above his beloved Excelsior City.
Just before dawn, all appeared quiet. The Wing swung back toward midtown and the mighty Kryse Building, home of EmpireTV, the city-wide cable news station. He had an early meeting with his star reporter, to discuss the Venus Diamond story, and had no time to return to his uptown penthouse. Instead, he dropped straight down the hidden chute into his private office. There he removed the mask and became Lang Lofton once more, billionaire philanthropist and owner/operator of media mega-giant EmpireTV. After stowing the Wing's gear away, Lang showered, Ben-Gayed his aching limbs, and flopped on his leather couch for a generous two-hours rest.
With the recent lull in crime, he'd been getting at least that much sleep every night and he welcomed it. There'd be hell to pay soon enough, at the meeting with Ginny Flynn. She was still fuming at him for abandoning her at the altar a few months back—an abandonment that came one year to the month since the Wing called off their wedding in an identical, last-minute fashion. A double-life, complicated by a love triangle in which he himself was two of the principals, tended to make a mess of things.
Ginny Flynn bounded into her boss's office at 7:00 AM. After the meeting, she had to go straight into makeup before anchoring the early morning news, and her silver-streaked red hair was wrapped tight in a terry towel. She found Lang, snoozing away even at this late hour, on his overstuffed leather divan. Leader of a cutting-edge media conglomerate, and yet he managed to loaf half the morning!
Ginny considered the situation. Lang was asleep with his face turned into the cushions, and his altar-leaving butt poked upwards. It made a tempting target for her Italian pumps, but she chose instead to lean close to his ear, thrust two fingers into her mouth, and let loose a drum shattering whistle.
Lang sprang up, coiled himself in a ball mid-air and landed soft as a panther on the divan, gazing calmly at her as though he had been sitting there all along. She leaned over him. "Pretty spry for an old man," she said.
"You're no spring chicken yourself," said Lang, awake and unfazed, not a single salt-or-pepper hair displaced, just as if he hadn't been sleeping at all. What a nimble, unpredictable lover he would be. She imagined.
"Hurry up, boss," she said. "You asked to see me, and I'm on the air in less than fifteen. If it's about your rumored run for mayor, don't bother. It's a conflict of interest for me to report on that."
"I want you to dig into the Venus Diamond story."
"Oh good lord."
"There's something in this beyond an ordinary legend."
"Oh?" she said. "How's it different from any other space alien or magic jewel that's ever turned up in Excelsior City?"
"I think it's the key to something larger." His face darkened, the way it often did. "There's a celebration tonight at The Supernatural Wonders Museum. I've got two tickets. I want you to go."
Ginny shook her head. "Put Wally Wilcox on it. I'm still working on the Wing's secret-identity investigation." She waited half a heart-beat, then sighed. "Don't tell me you want to table that again."
"I'm afraid we'll have to," said Lang. "You're my best reporter. I need you on this."
Sure he did. "Well, Archetype was paroled last night. There's an angle. I can interview him about the Venus."
"Why?" asked Lang.
"He's always favored high-profile targets. I'll get some background." Besides, she'd already lined up the interview for her Wing profile. Though she'd never file a story on the Wing's secret identity, she didn't feel the need to let Lang off the hook by admitting the fact. He had his secrets. She could have some too.
"Stay away from Archetype," said Lang.
"Oh really?"
"Ginny, I'm not telling you what to do—"
"—you had better not be—"
"I'm just concerned," he said. "I care about you."
She waved him off. "I know. You said so in the note you sent when you left me at the altar. Anyway, the Wing will protect me from Archetype."
The creases around his eyes deepened. "The Wing has other responsibilities."
"You'd never know it," said Ginny. "How many times would you say the Wing has come to your star reporter's rescue?" Lang shrugged. "Roughly once a month, I'd guess, for the past sixty years. Though I really shouldn't count the time we were all trapped in that glacier."
"That's nothing to joke about."
"You're right, Lang. Nothing's funny about being locked in suspended animation for decades. Nothing's funny about living in a holding pattern." She turned away from him, her voice falling. "I don't blame you for not showing up to our wedding, Lang, any more than I blame the Wing for doing the same thing twelve months ago. I blame myself for thinking that you—either of you—would commit in the first place."
Lang stood and almost touched her shoulder. "Ginny…"
She moved away from his hand. "Don't 'Ginny' me. I'm not mad. I'm just me, and you… well, you're somebody else altogether, aren't you?"
She watched his jaw, his impossible, square jaw, work itself. Years, she thought, years and years even if you discounted several decades of suspended animation in a glacier. Years of being sprung from traps and lairs, years of being carried over rooftops, years spent just inches away from that impossible, square chin, being whispered at by that impossibly deep voice. Years, and one simple human truth still escaped him: she knew. Of course she knew.
Ginny started to leave but turned back. "Show me those tickets." He took them from his desk drawer. Two small envelopes, with gold printing. She snatch them both.
"One's mine," said Lang.
"Get yourself another. I may want to bring a date." Or scalp it, at least, to spite him.
Early that evening, after a brief stop at her apartment across from the Clocktower Building on South 12th Avenue, Ginny went to the flop-house address she'd uncovered for Archibald T. Pupper, the erstwhile Archetype. The criminal mastermind opened the door to his room immediately when she knocked. "Ms. Flynn," he said, smiling, a bit of noodle on his chin. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was eager for company. "You've caught me midst a small repast. I apologize. Please do come in."
He led her into the room and cleared a Styrofoam Cup-o-Raman, and a half-pint carton of milk, from the small table. He invited her to sit. "Good to see you again, Ms. Flynn. Though I venture you do not share my sentiment."
"On the contrary, this is much nicer than our last meeting, when you strapped me to a nuclear warhead."
Pupper chuckled, embarrassed. "We have enjoyed our share of improbable predicaments, have we not, Ms. Flynn?"
"Call me Ginny. Everybody does."
"Short for Virginia?"
"More or less." Virginity Flynn actually, but she didn't like advertising it, damn the Wing. "How's freedom treating you?"
"I shall not complain. The people of Excelsior City are kind and forgiving. I'm blessed to be back among them."
"That's a sound-byte."
"Is that not why you have come?"
"Do you see a camera? A tape recorder?"
He stared at her. "Indeed not. So why are you here, Ms. Flynn? I am no longer the villain you once knew. If you expect me to return to my old ways, I am afraid you, and your vast audience, are doomed to disappointment." He said nothing for a moment, then tilted is head gracefully. "However, if I may assist in some other capacity, please allow me to do so. For old times' sake, let us say."
"Tell me about the Venus Diamond." She produced the engraved invitations to the unveiling. The tickets had pictures of the diamond on their face, a green-hued, perfect teardrop. Pupper snorted.
"My dear lady. That is not the Venus Diamond."
She looked at the picture. The diamond, famous the world over, looked as it always had to her. "Even if it is a forgery, how can you tell from a photo?"
"That is the display diamond. The actual Venus would hardly garner the attention and crowds this gaudy bauble will. No, the real diamond—the one that grips men's souls—appears too prosaic, and is far too dangerous, to parade before the masses."
"Where is it?"
"I conjecture an ordinary wall safe in the curator's office. Professor Wendell Whipple is an aficionado of the great Edgar Allen Poe. You know 'The Purloined Letter'?"
"The diamond is hidden in plain sight?"
"I stress: this is my conjecture."
"And no one has ever seen the real diamond?"
"To my knowledge, it has never been photographed."
Ginny beamed. Lang wanted a diamond story, did he? Well, she would give him one. "Mr. Pupper, have you got a tuxedo?"
The ball took place in the marbled lobby of The Supernatural Wonders Museum. Except for Lang Lofton's conspicuous absence, Excelsior City's entire elite was in attendance, including Mayor Dirtly, who stood to one side, chatting with some of his goonish aldermen toadies because no one else would meet his eyes. His administration was in shambles, and if the opposition succeeded in drafting Lang into the campaign, this would be one of Dirtly's last functions in an official capacity.
The invitations had stated midnight-blue or green tie, and evening wear. Ginny wore a floor-length, forest-green leather coat and matching knee-high boots with razor-sharp heels. Underneath was a kelly-green leather bustier, and short-shorts. Christof, Excelsior City's most sought after designer and her trusted friend, had made it for her. At her request, he'd also outfitted one of her jade earring with a miniature camera, which she had supplied. A jade finger ring, and its hidden compartment filled with knockout drops, completed the outfit.
For Pupper, Ginny had procured a dark tuxedo, with green cummerbund. Even with lifts in his sparkling shoes he failed to reach her shoulders—but then, few men did. He had trimmed his sideburns and pulled the last remnants of his white locks back into a tiny ponytail. He looked, all things considered, rather natty.
A diamond the size of a large cat, the faux-Venus, gleamed on in its crystal display case, surrounded by red laser beams and a thin blue line of Excelsior City's finest. Its greenish hue attracted wealthy socialites like moths to a bug-zapper, and everyone had to have at least one photograph taken of them posing beside it. Archie Pupper proved to be quite the sensation as well. His long imprisonment had diminished the fear he'd once caused in the public, while the myths around him had continued to grow. Tonight, he found himself surrounded by beautiful women who laughed at his self-deprecating jokes, and he charmed the men who wanted to be seen shaking hands with him.
Ginny's plan was simple. By bringing Pupper along as a beacon for the police—to say nothing of the Wing—she could blend into the background. Modest and polite, she would stay in the background until she had Professor Whipple dead in her sights. Once they were alone, she would unbutton her long coat to reveal her secret weapon: her bare midriff. Everyone knew the Professor fancied himself a Geological Romeo. The sight would render him powerless. After that, the rest of the job—taking the first-ever picture of the real Venus Diamond—should be simplicity itself.
Ginny slipped away from this commotion and kept her eyes open for Professor Whipple. She jumped, surprised, when a throaty whisper said, "Enjoying yourself?" in her ear. She whirled. "Lang!"
"What are you doing here… with him?" he hissed.
Eyes wild, hair disheveled, she'd never seen him like this. "With whom? You mean Pupper?"
"You know very well who I mean."
"My job," she said. "I'm doing my job."
"But you've brought him right to the diamond!"
"He hardly needs me to get into the Museum," she said, ignoring for the moment that the gala was invitation only. "It's a public place. Besides, he's harmless. I've spent half the day with him, and he hasn't tried to kill me once."
"Good lord!" said Lang. "Are you a fool!"
She stepped back. His eyes were red. Had he been crying? "I don't think I like you like this, Lang. Go mingle or something; let me work."
Brewster Stevens, community activist and chair of the Draft Lang Lofton for Mayor Committee, pressed his way between them. "Lang! How's our next mayor! Look at Dirtly over there! He won't even acknowledge you're in the room! Come on Lang, I've got people here dying to meet you. You don't mind if I steal him away, do you, Ginny?"
"Please, Brewster. Steal him."
Lang tried to make an excuse, but Brewster wouldn't have it and pulled him away. Lang shot Ginny a last, desperate look, and she stuck her tongue out at him and grinned.
She found Professor Whipple soon afterward and put forward several pointed questions about the Venus Diamond's cleavage and the internal pressures which caused diamonds to grow. When Whipple, attempting smoothness, suggested going somewhere a smidge more secluded, she tugged one corner of his bowtie and told him she'd always wanted to see a geologist's spectroscope. Whipple found himself leading her to his private lab even as his mouth struggled to finish stammering out his agreement.
Once inside the lab, Ginny's high-hopes immediately plummeted. The lab's warren of shelves and counters were piled high with papers, gems both precious and semi, beakers, flasks and test tubes. How could she find something in plain sight when there was no plain sight to begin with?
While Ginny tackled this latest development, Whipple grabbed champagne from a nearby fridge and filled two beakers with the bubbling liquid. He slyly admitted he happened to keep the bottle handy for just such an occasion.
"Oh my," said Ginny. "I'll have to watch myself around you, Professor." She couldn't help but smile. He was trying so hard!
Professor Whipple gave her a well-studied "who-me?" look that made him instantly sleazy as well as pathetic. She would have felt no compunctions about slipping a Mickey into his beaker right then, but first she needed to make sure she knew how to find the diamond.
"So, Professor," she said. "I'm told the Venus has special properties. Magic powers, they say."
"A legend. We are safe, my dear. The crystal enclosure around the Venus protects from its delirious effects."
"Oh, my! Is it very dangerous?"
"Exceedingly," said Professor Whipple. "Even momentary exposure to the skin can cause feverish symptoms, followed by extraordinary exhilaration, leading to impulsive bravado, reckless abandon, and truth-telling. It is not to be trifled with."
"I can't believe one little diamond can do all that."
"Little? I've never heard the Venus described as little."
"I meant that figuratively," said Ginny quickly. "It's certainly the largest, hardest diamond I've ever see."
"Indeed it is beautiful—but it is not the most beautiful gem in the museum tonight."
Ginny sighed inwardly. "No?"
"You are the most beautiful gem in the museum tonight, my dear."
"Careful," said Ginny. "You'll flatter the pants off me."
"Am I so transparent?"
"I'm afraid so, Professor." She closed in, placing her arms around his neck and fingering her champagne flask behind his head.
"A-am I?" he stammered.
"You are. And you know what else you are?" He shook his head rapidly, barely breathing. "You are a big fat liar."
"M-miss Flynn?"
"Call me Ginny. I know your secret; there isn't any magic diamond is there?"
"Miss Ginny, why certainly there is. You've seen—"
"A fake. Now show me the real one, or I will tell Excelsior City what a naughty boy you've been."
Whipple swallowed. "I'll be ruined."
"I want one little photo. No one need know how I got it."
"It won't matter, the minute the public finds out the real diamond has been…"
"…under your protection, safe from the hands of super-villains, foreign powers, and alien invasions, why you will be a national hero! It's all in how I write it, lover. And right now, I could go either way."
Whipple nodded. She took a step back. He stuffed his hand under his belt, and her gut constricted. She'd miscalculated. Whipple was going to pull a weapon. At least, she hoped it would be a weapon.
A moment later, with the sound of his waistband tearing, Whipple produced a diamond the size of her pinkie nail instead of—whatever else. He held it forward.
"Did you have it in your underwear?" His shoulders contracted. He nodded. "Wipe it off, please."
He polished the diamond with a bit of gauze, then cleared a space on the counter to set it down. The diamond was extraordinary. Immaculate clarity, with no hint of the stand-in's gaudy green. Each angle of cleavage was cut with precision, infinitely sharp. Ginny was no expert, but she understood perfection when she saw it. "Lord," she breathed.
"Didn't I tell you? Now please, Miss Flynn. Take your picture and go."
"Call me Ginny," she whispered. "Everybody does." No picture would ever do it justice. "Professor, is it chipped?"
"Chipped? There's no chip," he said, incredulous.
"Look closer."
He put his nose to the diamond, exposing his neck. One quick karate chop dropped him, stinging her hand in the process. Less subtle than the knockout drops, true, but the moment had inspired her. Ginny seized the diamond and shivered.
More solid, and heavier than she'd guessed, clasping it electrified her. From the instant she'd first seen it, Ginny knew she had to possess the diamond. The Venus wanted her to possess it. The life-energy it exuded belonged to her, to any and every passionate, yearning soul by right, by natural law.
Her heart began to beat faster as Professor Whipple began to stir on the floor, moaning. What to do with the diamond now that she had it? Christof had thoughtlessly designed the outfit with exactly no pockets. Damn fashion! Only one thing to do—she pressed the diamond into her belly-button. The diamond cleaved to her skin like it belonged there. White light shot through her spine.
She moved to the door only to stop. She should tie Whipple up, or something. No. Hit him again. No. Put the diamond back? No—run. She ran.
Her heart pounded as she reached the corridor's end. Which way to the ballroom? That way—she could hear the music. She turned and went the other direction. The corridor soon grew darker, and the ballroom revels began to fade. She had just begun to relax when an invisible grip seized her, snatched her into a corner. She smelled the rubber body armor, felt the familiar, heavy breath heat her neck. A voice like the night commanded her silent while an iron hand, not trusting her to obey, covered her mouth.
The Wing.
"Ginny…" he breathed, as his other, equally powerful arm ran across her mid-drift, just above her belly button and the diamond lodged within. "Ginny, Ginny… I spoke with Lofton. I agree with him. Archetype is dangerous. Please be careful. If anything were ever to happen to you—Lofton couldn't bear it." She tried to turn around, but he held her fast, his giant body cocooning her. "Ginny, if I could explain…" She pried at the fingers clamped over her mouth. He held them tight but she kept prying, and so he relented.
"Then explain," she said. "Tell me, Wing. Tell me everything. I'm right here."
The grip on her midriff loosened. She almost stumbled he let her free so quickly. Gone, she realized when she turned; gone as silent as he'd come. No surprise there.
Ginny lurched back the way she came, back to the party. She was perspiring. She removed the leather trench coat, throwing it over her arm, holding it before herself to hide her diamond-studded belly button. The Wing had no idea she'd taken the real diamond. All he cared about was poor old Archie Pupper.
The ballroom was in uproar. Brewster Stevens, his brow damp, ran up and seized her shoulders. She jumped at his touch. "Ginny! The Wing was here! I didn't see him, but he swung right across the ceiling. He stared down Archetype and pointed right at him. Then poof! He disappeared! I was using the facilities and missed the whole thing!"
"That's something, Brewster. Come to think of it, no one's ever seen you and the Wing at the same time."
"Ha ha! Good one, Ginny. Say, do you think the Wing would endorse a Lang candidacy? And where is Lang? I wonder if he saw the Wing?"
"I don't know where he is, but when you find Lang, give him this from me." She grabbed Brewster's face and planted a wet kiss right on his lips.
Brewster flushed. "Jeez, Ginny! What's gotten into you?"
"Must be the exuberance of the evening," she said, and she slipped into the crowd.
It was a warm night and, after the ball, Ginny walked with Pupper in the general direction of her Southtown apartment and his Lower East End flop house. At 24th Street, a trio of street toughs spotted them and began making vulgar, though not altogether unflattering, and absolutely accurate, remarks about the magnificence of Ginny's figure.
"Gentleman," said Pupper when the toughs drew near. "This lady has been kind enough to escort me safely through a rough neighborhood. Please do not insist upon embarrassing yourselves." The toughs snickered and moved closer. Pupper seized a nearby garbage can lid and spun it toward their heads. They ducked, and the garbage can lid embedded itself in a concrete wall behind them. The toughs ran.
"That wasn't necessary," said Ginny.
"I am aware. But allow an old man at least the pretense of gallantry."
"Thank you."
"It was nothing."
He massaged his shoulder, and Ginny couldn't help but stare. "You're going straight, I think," she said. "For real."
Archie nodded. "I am. Ours is a young man's game."
She laughed. "Tell the Wing."
"I would not presume."
"Ah, well…"
"However," said Archie. "The Wing is not long for the world."
Ginny blinked. "What do you mean?"
"He's an egg uncommon, your champion," said the aged super-villain. "He always wins, but one day, I fear, he shall fall victim to his own triumphs. Now, with nary an enemy left, he shall begin to fade away. He knows little else, and will not find retirement easy."
"Like Alexander weeping, with no worlds left to conquer."
Pupper stopped and gazed at her, eyes shining. "Yes! My, do I wish I had said that."
Ginny chuckled. "Feel free to use it."
"Perhaps I will!" They arrived at Pupper's doorstep shortly afterward. "It seems I am home," he sighed.
She looked up at the decrepit hotel. "Didn't you put anything away for your old age, Archie?"
He looked down his long nose. "It's just isn't done, my dear. However, I assure you I will be fine. Thank you for a wonderful evening, Ms. Flynn."
"Call me—never mind." She fingered the diamond in her belly button, hidden beneath her coat. It still filled her with the same delicious fever it had from the first. She loved the feeling. She continued touching the diamond, until the night air became charged with sudden, unexpected electricity. "Archie," she said. "Would you like to come home with me?"
Pupper smiled with his eyes, and shook his head. "Dear lady, though your sofa is more comfortable than my hard cot to be sure, I must—"
"I didn't say anything about any sofa," she said. "It's just that, well, we're not getting any younger, Archie."
Pupper seemed unable to meet her eyes. "Um. I recall a villain named Vertigo once had some success with an experimental chrono-reversal ray that—"
"Archie. The moment's not going to last forever."
He looked up at her. "Yes. Well. Oh my …"
Professor Whipple twitched awake, his neck throbbing. What had happened? The girl reporter—she stole the diamond. Cripes! Fug! He looked at his watch: 3:00 AM. What time did the early papers come out? Oh gosh, no! She was a television reporter. The whole story could be out by now. By now, she must have discovered that not only was the green display diamond a fraud, but even the real Venus had no special powers. He was trapped in a net of his own lies. It was a diamond: a beautiful, valuable stone, but it had no curse, no magic power. But such simple baubles yielded no Lang Foundation grant money.
He jumped up, threw flat champagne in his face, and took the only logical next step. He stuffed his pockets and brief case with as many gems as he could carry, to convert to cash later. Marching straight downstairs, he walked calmly past the night watchman. Once outside, he ran to Grandiose Central Station and took the train on the first track he came to, without marking its destination. Centre City, Las Pacificas, it mattered not. Any place with plastic surgeons and a dark corner to hide in would do.
In a first class compartment, once the train was moving, he sank into plush purple cushions and wiped his face with a tuxedo's rented sleeve. What a narrow escape!
Ginny sank in her heart-shaped bed's center, silk sheets curling betwixt her toes, arms outstretched as she welcomed her lover. The panoramic cityscape twinkled through the bay window beside them. This was it, she thought. It was going to happen. Not the way she expected, certainly not with the man she expected, but with a kind, willing man anyhow.
Archie kissed her neck, (so this is how kisses feel, she thought) unlaced her bustier (so this is what it is to be naked in someone's arms, she thought), and pressed his length against her. She moaned. Her nipple hardened between his lips. "Oh lord," she whispered. He kissed down her body, so excruciatingly slow she wanted to scream and force him even lower, faster. He kissed her belly button—delicious fever!
Archie coughed. He choked, and the fever died. Ginny opened her eyes. Archie's face was purple. "Archie! What is it? Is there… is there something wrong with me?"
He pointed to his throat, pounded at his chest, said nothing.
"Oh, my stars! The diamond!" shouted Ginny. She spun him around and hugged under his ribs, balling her fist. Three sudden thrusts, and he coughed it out. "Archie, are you okay?"
He wiped the tears from his eyes, and swallowed. He picked up the diamond. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"I'm so sorry, I forgot I had it in."
"Forgot you had it in! This is the Venus Diamond! Land's sake!" He jerked his head up, listening, desperate. He scrambled to the bay window and dragged the vertical blinds shut. His old, naked flanks shook. "He'll think I took it! Did you do this on purpose?"
"Archie, what are you talking about."
"The Wing! He'll come for me now." Archie ran to the corner, picked up his pants, couldn't find the leg holes.
"But you didn't have anything to do with it!"
"He won't believe that! What have you done? He's going to get me!" Archie collapsed in a ball, a little old naked man trying to hide in the corner. She ran to him and put her arms around him, making shushing noises. He resisted. "He's everywhere! Everywhere…"
After several minutes he became calmer, allowed himself to be led back to bed. She drew the blankets over herself and Archie, let him cry into her breast until sleep took him. The Wing was everywhere in Excelsior City. Inside Archie's head, under the covers with them—everywhere, except the church come wedding day.
Sometime after four, she nearly drifted off herself. A sound came from the balcony—perhaps she dreamed it; a soft tap on the window. A moment later, the sound of crashing glass filled the night. The memories faded by daylight.
The Wing's gut twisted in knots. He saw the coiled bodies of Ginny and Archetype through the vertical blinds, and he fought the impulse to crash through and kill him in the animal act, the villain. But, there was no telling what Archetype had done to Ginny's mind. If the Wing killed him, whatever spell or psychological trick Archetype used on Ginny might be irreversible.
The Wing dropped from Ginny's balcony, spun off a flag pole across to the next rooftop, ran full speed for the edge, then leaped. He careened ten or twelve floors then trampolined off an awning, up and across to the Clocktower Building. He scaled fire escapes until he reached the minute hand of the enormous art-deco clock.
Whirling up, feet together like a battering ram, he crashed into the clock face. Glass shattered, covering him and littering the street below. Crouching amidst the oversized clockworks and broken shards of glass, the Wing finally forced himself to see the truth. It was no spell. No psychological torture had been used. No, he'd lost Ginny all by himself.
The Wing stayed still, a statue of rage, grief and self-doubt. He needed a face to smash, a chest to kick. Why now, after so long, had everything and everyone he'd ever known chosen to abandon him? Tears ran from beneath his mask, dripping off his chin one by one as the seconds passed. The night seemed to last forever.
Two hours later, the next morning, Ginny put Archie in a cab home and went in to work. On her way in, the secretary told Ginny that Lang had asked to see her before she went on the air for the morning broadcast. When Ginny reached his office, she found Lang sitting on the edge of his divan. "Ginny," he said. "Before you say anything, hear me out."
"Go ahead, Lang." she said, unsure what to expect. A delicious thrill—hope, maybe—shimmered through her belly.
"Thing is, Ginny, I've decided to run for mayor and I'm turning the network over to you."
She smiled inwardly. Of course. "Oh," she said. "For a moment I thought…"
"Congratulations, Lang. You'll make a great mayor."
"I pray that I do. I couldn't bear to let this city down, although the job does means curtailing certain… other activities. Such as the station. I need someone here I can trust. The mayoralty will be an all-consuming job…" he trailed off again when he saw the look on her face. "What is it?"
"Lang, can you have Wally sub for me on the air this morning?"
He looked stunned. Except when held hostage, she never missed a broadcast. "What's the matter?"
"A little fever. Nothing."
"Go straight home," he said. "And get some rest."
"I have to stop by the Museum to return something first."
"I'll come with you," he said quickly.
Ginny shook her head. "I'll be okay. Is there anything else?"
He frowned. "Nothing comes to mind," he said.
They looked at each other. Lang broke the long silence. "I can't say you seem bowled over by your new assignment," he said. "But then, you're not feeling well."
She nodded. "That must be it."
He nodded back and watched as she left the office.
Downstairs, outside, the street was snarled up with an armored car delivery. Two rotund guards dragged a canvas sack toward the First Ethical Bank branch in the lobby of the Kryse Building. The sack's drawstrings were loose and a packet fell out. The guards seemed not to notice. Ginny picked the money up. She whistled to get their attention, then tossed the packet on top of the sack.
"Thanks, lady," said one.
"You boys seem a little relaxed," she said.
"What's to worry about? If anyone tries anything the Wing will get 'em."
Ginny raised her eyebrow at that, but said nothing. She turned back to the street, and hailed a cab. A short ride later, she arrived at the Museum and asked an apple-cheeked docent where to find Professor Whipple. The young girl looked around to make sure no one was listening, then leaned forward. "Took a powder," she said. "Know what I mean? Vamoosed. Made like a library and booked."
"Why would he do that?"
The girl shrugged. "I'm just saying."
"Saying what?"
"Yeah, you know what I'm talking about. People. Funny, ain't they?"
"A riot."
"Are you okay, lady?"
"You know, I keep getting asked that."
"Your cheeks are all flushed and everything."
"I've heard."
"Don't keep it all bottled up. You know, like—" and she nodded in the direction of nothing.
"Like what?"
The girl whispered. "Like Professor Whipple. One day a mild-mannered geologist. The next, phhht. Could be aliens, a foreign power, magic, super-villains. We may never know. Anything can happen in this city."
Ginny did not return the Venus diamond. She went home and tried to sleep, leaving the jewel in her belly button. She tossed and turned and her skin tingled. Her toes and fingers kept grasping; she grew alive, more electrified and more feverish as the hours passed. She wanted a man, but there wasn't any man. Something had awakened in her in the last twenty-four hours, a genie that would not be forced back into its bottle.
Mid-afternoon, she took the green outfit she'd worn to the museum ball and stuffed it in a hefty bag. At Christof's boutique, Ginny upended the bag at the designer's feet. "I want this," she said. "But times ten."
"Oui, madam. You would like ten outfits like this."
"No, Christof, I want one outfit like this but ten times sleeker, ten times more durable, ten times sexier. And I want it in midnight blue. And scarlet. Midnight blue and scarlet. And I need if for tonight. And pockets."
"Oui, madam. Will there be anything else?"
"A mask. Something understated. Something to highlight my cheekbones."
He looked at her evenly. "A mask. Is there to be a masquerade?"
"To my knowledge, no."
"Can you have it by, say, 2:00 AM?"
"To anyone else I say, I am not a miracle worker. But you are my favorite customer so to you I say, I am a miracle worker. You will have your costume by 2:00 AM."
"Thank you. Now I have to get to the hairdresser's and a hardware store, I suppose. And Christof?"
"Don't call me Ginny."
"Oui, madam. How shall I call you?"
"Let's try… Fevre. Spelled, vee-are-ee."
"Fevre, spelt vee-are-ee. Oui, madam, I have it. Until tonight then."
Pupper slept in his own bed. He had been asleep there since 9:30 PM, in fact. Wing checked back every couple hours, but the super-villain never stirred. Long past midnight, Wing made a final patrol over the Lower East End.
The Wing decided, as he made his way above the city streets, that he would bury his costume at dawn. A fitting marker, he thought, for the end of his career. He would do it in the underground warrens beneath the sewers, where he and Dasher had defeated the Vole Legion. He called that secret land, known to no other living soul, the Cavern of Champions. Dasher was buried there, along with Raja, Wing Girl, and Kid Spirit—each of his fallen comrades. Now at last the Wing, former mentor, failed protector, would join them.
The Wing swung past Ginny's place one last time on his way to the cavern, telling himself it was just to see if restoration had begun on the Clocktower Building that he had so shamefully wrecked the night before. The apartment was dark when he arrived. He dropped onto her balcony and put his ear to the glass; his heightened senses detected no heartbeat, no breathing. Out on the town, most likely. Ginny must have recovered from whatever ailed her earlier.
Why did the thought bring him such little comfort?
Perhaps because she was out of his life forever, now. As busy as the Wing had been, unable to commit to romantic entanglements, Mayor Lang would be even busier. The Governor's Mansion beckoned even now, and then perhaps would come the White House. It was time to grow up and work within the system, he thought, his eyes blinking back his emotions.
An alarm sounded in the direction of the Kryse building, interrupting his grief. The Wing sighed. Another false one, he was sure. However, it was almost 4:00 AM and the bars would be letting out soon. A burglar alarm so close to Heritage Square might rile a few inebriates, could maybe lead to a scuffle or two. The Wing swung toward the noise. What was it the poet said? Not with a bang, but a whimper?
Fevre learned several lessons about super-villainy the moment she knocked off the First Ethical Bank in the Kryse building. She used her—no. She used Ginny Flynn's key card to get as far as the lobby. So lesson number one, super-villains could take shortcuts. Then she kicked in the glass door of the bank branch using her maniacal super-Venus-Diamond strength, and learned lesson two in the process: super-villains could break things, and breaking things was fun. She learned the third lesson as she climbed, swag-bag on her back, to the top of the Fairview Hotel and looked across into Heritage Square: it's never about the money.
Citizens poured from the bars, heads craning to see what was causing such ruckus. If the people on the street could see her at all, it was as no more than a speck—and that wouldn't do at all. Fevre ripped open the canvas bag and released its contents into the air. As the bills drifted down, and people realized it had begun raining greenbacks, the citizens below her began to cheer. More of them ran into the streets, arms outstretched, grasping.
Fevre watched and laughed, catching in the process part of the brilliantly lit sign below her; it read "Fairview Hotel." Thousands of individual light bulbs comprised it, and she noticed that if she looked at the letters a certain way…
Fevre hooked her grappling rope to a nearby ledge and swooped down to dangle before the sign, kicking and shattering bulbs with precise, nimble kicks. Below her, people began to point past the money and gasp.
Pandemonium greeted the Wing in Heritage Square. Some madman had thrown hundreds of thousands of dollars in the streets, causing mayhem. There were even some policemen below, stuffing their own pockets with the bills. Were Lang Mayor, such acts would not be tolerated.
No doubt, thought the Wing, this display was meant to distract him while the villains committed some other, more nefarious deed across town. He should have checked his bed more carefully—Pupper could have substituted an animatronic dummy for himself. Clever trick, thought the Wing, cursing his gullibility. He should have known!
Citizens, drunk and giddy with their ill-gotten cash, began shouting into the sky and chanting one word again and again. The Wing followed their pointing fingers and saw for the first time that the sign above the Fairview Hotel had been vandalized. The letters were jagged, but clear enough to read: it was the same word the mob chanted.
A new one.
From nowhere, a foot collided with his chin. The Wing tumbled backward, rocked by the magnificent blow. He plummeted several stories before regaining enough equilibrium to swing back up. He settled on the rooftop again and there she was, all in midnight blue leather. A bit standard, he thought, not very original at all, but then it never did to underestimate a new foe.
Seeing her formidable legs, corded with muscle and enmeshed in fishnets, he moved his aching jaw and realized he was lucky to still be conscious. Bare, diamond-studded mid-drift and flowing mane of magenta hair—maybe she wasn't so standard after all.
He rubbed his chin with one hand and glowered at her. "That was your free one. Enjoy it, Fevre. You won't get another."
She grinned, a broad toothy grin. She looked thrilled by this! The Wing fought the urge to grin back at her. The quiet nights were over now—the deadliest foe of all was one who did it for fun!
Fevre took one step towards him, then another. She gathered speed, racing right at him at such a pace he half expected her to leap into his arms. It could be an amateur's mistake, he thought, a full-frontal assault against an expert and expectant opponent. If so, she would be a short-lived enemy indeed. Or it could be something else, a trick, a rouse, so he crouched, deciding to play it safe and slow and learn more about her.
She leapt as he crouched, disappearing over the side of the building. He whirled in the direction he thought she'd gone, peered after her, and saw only the backdrop of the night's sky until a loud, sharp whistle caught his attention. It brought to mind some other whistle—no. He discounted that. It was a red herring. He had to focus on the immediate. He turned toward the sound, and saw Fevre standing on another rooftop, across the street. She had the audacity to wave at him before disappearing again. Lord, how quick!
He grinned through the pain that washed over his jaw. He might even have a hairline fracture—and there was certainly another ugly bruise for Lang Lofton to explain in the morning! Lang had a lot to explain, actually. The mayor's race would have to wait—everything would have to wait, while he dealt with this new foe.
Was she working with Archetype? Or Van Hellion? Perhaps all three in unholy alliance together, this newcomer Fevre the mastermind behind all the others! And she wore a diamond in her belly button—of course! The Wing snapped his fingers. The Venus Diamond! Hadn't the museum's curator disappeared under mysterious circumstances after the ball? So many possibilities. A world of them.
The Wing leapt to the next rooftop, the one she'd taunted him from. From that one to the next, and the next, and the next, he pursued his magnificent new foe. Fevre glided away, ever seductive, always threatening to elude his hyper-acute senses—but never quite escaping them altogether.
And where she fled he would follow, light as air, silent as shadow: two flashing figures together, racing each other through the endless, ink-blue night.


text:
Autosuccess 2010- Dealer of The Year Profile:
Paragon Honda
Website: www.paragonhonda.com
Location: Queens, NY
#1 Ranked New & Pre-Owned Honda Dealer in the World
Paragon Acura
Website: www.paragonacura.com
Location: Queens, NY
Brian Benstock
Paragon Honda
Paragon Honda leap-frogged from #17 in U.S. market share for Honda to the #1 Honda New and Used dealer in the world in only 6 months. "We had a record year for volume and profitability during a record low year for the car business," said Brian Benstock from Paragon Honda in Queens, New York. We met with Brian to find out in his own words what led to their success. Some of the companies Brian works with are on our Top 10 list this year (Tier 10, Level 5, Team Velocity, CallRevu, Car-mercial and vAuto).

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Hemmings Motor News Illustrated Collector-Car Encyclopedia
Click thumbnails for expanded view.
- $14.95
- Quantity Available: 2
Collector Bookstore is a retailer of new books located in Leavenworth, Kansas. We specialize in price guides and reference books for the antiques and collectibles industry.
Table of Contents
THE OLD CAR HOBBY IS ALIVE AND WELL, and it's prospering with continued growth year after year. There are more car clubs today than ever before, and each year the calendar gets more crowded with newly formed collector-car shows, concours, rallies, cruises, tours, vintage races, auctions and car-related television shows. When combined, all of these events have the positive effect of getting more people interested in owning, driving and restoring old cars.
As these new folks get involved with the joys of owning old cars, soon they will want to learn more about the collector-car scene and everything that it encompasses. And what better source of information is there than an illustrated encyclopedia that profiles anything and everything relating to the old-car hobby?
So that's what the editorial staff at Hemmings Motor News decided to create: a collector-car encyclopedia that embraces more than just cars; it includes everything associated with the history of the automobile and the fascinating leisure pursuit of the old-car experience.
The Hemmings Motor News Illustrated Collector -- Car Encyclopedia is the ultimate visual guide to the automobile, starting from its earliest years. Within its comprehensive listings, there are profiles of hundreds of domestic and international automobiles companies, coachbuilders, designers and stylists and the pioneers who created them.
Detailed entries describe the many different components that make up engines, transmissions, differentials, suspensions, brakes and ignition systems, as well as wheels, tires, interiors, lighting and more. Chapters on tools, machinery, paint, museums, concours, restoration, hot rodding, racing, toys and more combine to make this an indispensible resource for anyone involved with vintage automobiles.
Automobiles from all the different eras are covered, as well: Brass, Classic, pre-war, Fifties, Sixties, and all the way up until the mid-1980s, which makes the Hemmings Motor News Illustrated Collector-Car Encyclopedia the one-stop resource for all enthusiasts.
By design, this encyclopedia has been purposely written in a basic, simple to understand format so it will be easier to comprehend for those who are new to the old-car hobby.
With several thousand entries, most of them illustrated with photography or line drawings for a clear, concise understanding of what the individual subject is all about, the Hemmings Motor News Illustrated Collector-Car Encyclopedia will quickly become the main reference source for all car owners, collectors, dealers, historians, teachers and budding young car enthusiasts -- not only here in the United States but throughout the world.
Collector Book Store
- Leavenworth , Kansas
- View Storefront
- View Seller Website
- Contact Seller About This Item
- View Store Policies
Dealer Accepts:
Item Details:
- Reference #
- 10457
- Quantity
- 2
- Category
- Transportation & Vehicles
- Department
- Antiques
- Type / Pattern
- Book
- Year
- 2011
- Dimensions
- Width: 8.5 inches
- Height: 10.75 inches
- Depth: 0 inch
- Weight: 1.69 pounds
- Condition
- New
- Material
- Soft Cover


text:
MEET EDITH Edith Bruce, Survivor From Meriden, CT EDITH'S STORY I am a 38-year-old hispanic female with a family history of colon cancer. In May 2013, I was diagnosed with colon cancer. In the weeks that followed I went through… Read More
Bone-Density Drug Could Lower Colorectal Cancer Risk
Israeli and American researchers reported this week in the Journal of Clinical Oncology on a new study suggesting that postmenopausal women taking alendronate (Fosamax) were less likely to develop colorectal cancer. The results are "intriguing," said Eric Jacobs, the American… Read More
Prostate Cancer Treatment Increases Risk of Colorectal Cancer
A commonly used treatment for prostate cancer may increase the risk of colorectal cancer. Older men with prostate cancer who received treatment that reduced androgen had a 30 to 40 percent higher risk of getting colorectal cancer than men who… Read More
Even Heavy Coffee Drinking Does Not Affect Colorectal Cancer Risk
The Finns are among the heaviest coffee drinkers in the world, with each person in Finland consuming more than twice as much coffee every year as the average European and nearly three times as much as Americans. Yet, when more… Read More
Colorectal Cancer and Meat — What's the Connection?
Are those steaks and hot dogs bad for you? Several studies have found a connection between eating red and processed meat and colorectal cancer. But the reason for that connection hasn't been clear. To answer the question, researchers collected detailed… Read More
Negative Colonoscopy: No CRC More than Ten Years Later
No participants in a study of the German colonoscopy screening program who had a clear colonoscopy developed colorectal cancer almost twelve years after their exam. Advanced adenomas were also reduced significantly.


text:
6 Things I never knew about Shawn Harper
J.E.T. STUDIOS 818 358 3453 info
Multiple Dates
North Hollywood
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Event Details
An original new play by playwright Marshelle Giggles-Mills:
"6 Things I never knew about Shawn Harper"
There are 6 hard truths Crystal Green will learn about Shawn Harper tonight. But there is also a SICK secret that she has kept from him for 20 years-and it musn't come out now.............
Dec 7 & 8 at 8pm and Dec 9 at 2pm.
Have questions about 6 Things I never knew about Shawn Harper? Contact J.E.T. STUDIOS 818 358 3453 info
J.E.T. Studios
5126 Lankershim Blvd
North Hollywood,
J.E.T. STUDIOS 818 358 3453 info
Festival of Original Works presented by J.E.T. Productions at the J.E.T. Studios
Featuring playwright Marshelle Giggles-Mills


text:
Handsome straight boy Mike stroked his cock for cashFriday, February 29th, 2008
Mike is a handsome young man who just wanted to make some easy cash. He just got back from, of all places, Iraq, and was in need of extra cash to set him up properly back home. He saw an online ad from Broke Straight Boys and, well, here he is. He's cute as a button and I just love that smile of his. And I'm pretty sure you'll like what you see when he finally strips and shows you everything he's got.
They told Mike to just get naked and put some lube on his cock and just go with the flow. I was surprised a little when I saw him pull out his big cock and saw that it had a cock ring. Just watching that metal ring flip side to side as he stroked his thick dick was quite a turn on. When he propped his legs up the couch, I was able to see his balls and ass easily. A little hairy, but nonetheless it was very, very nice to look at. But wait until you see him flaunt his round firm ass! Man, when he was standing up and pulled down on his underwear, I got a nice glimpse of his round butt. Too bad there was no one around to pair him up with so that we can see Mike's round booty fucked hard. He went to work fast on his cock and it grow bigger and thicker. Too scary for me to look at, but the horny gay man in me told me to have a look and well, I watched him masturbate until he cummed.
Click on the pictures if you want to see Mike stroke his thick cock in exchange for cash, only at Broke Straight Boys.


text:
When a mysterious puppet show arrives in Bishop's Lacey, death is not far behind... a grisly murder during a performance of Jack and the Beanstalk in the village hall reaches back to an earlier crime that has cast a shadow over the village for years. Flavia's investigations test her powers of deduction to the limit - and provide a shocking insight into the darker corners of the adult world.
©2010 Alan Bradley (P)2010 WF Howes Ltd
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"A worthwhile second volume"
Though slow to get going, the plot in this one has a few more twists than did the first in this series. Many characters still seem a touch two-dimensional and stereotypical, but Sophie Aldred's excellent narration hides much of this.
"Really Enjoyable"
This is not the sort of book that I would usually pick up, but I really did enjoy it. Sophie Aldred narrates beautifully and does a great job of all the voices. Flavia, the main character is a young girl and the author manages to imbue her with both exceptional knowledge of poisions and insight while retaining her childish innocence, which works very well.
"Brilliant book"
I nearly didn't buy this book, as the title was fairly off-putting, but I'm so glad I did... The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag is a murder mystery, and the elements that really made this book stand out were the strength of the lead character, Flavia, and Alan Bradley's writing. He really does manage to evoke 1950's England, and although this is quite a dark book in places, there are also flashes of humour. All in all, it reminded me a little of Agatha Christie. Highly recommended to anyone who enjoys well-written crime fiction.
"Great Listen"
A great listen. Highly recommended to all users. Can't wait to listen again. Looking forward to it.
"Unbelievable - glowing reviews here and on Amazon"
I can hardly believe that I have been reading the same book that has been reviewed here and on Amazon. I found the tale daft to say the least, the narrator (who was also the heroine) irritating in the extreme. I was tempted to give up on the book, but partly because of the reviews felt that I must be missing something and it would all become worthwhile in the end. I wish I had followed my original instincts, None of the characters was likeable, least of all, the precocious and obnoxious 11 year old Flavia, who was such a genius she ran rings around everyone. Definitely not for me!
"Sample review"
This is just a sample review to test whether reviews work or not. Hopefully I can see this review on the website.
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If you find this review inappropriate and think it should be removed from our site, let us know. This report will be reviewed by Audible and we will take appropriate action.


text:
Appreciate everyone's patience in waiting for this.2012 Fourth Annual Gathering of Gear Geeks-A.K.A. GGGThis year I have incorporated hyperlinks into the captions for the photos to provide links to websites for mainstream and cottage manufactures to provide information on the gear seen in the photos.I am sure that I have missed people's names and there are still a number of items in the photos that I can not identify.Please PM me with any corrections or information that you would like to have listed in the captions under the photos.Thank for your help.***Click Here: Need Your Help, Feed Back Needed to Make This Better Next Year****-Tony
Edited by Valshar on 03/07/2012 10:55:38 MST.
As always, Your the Man Tony!Great job. Now where is that JMT trip report? :-)
Rick,Yeah, I am running out of excuses on that monster project.I just need to kick out my taxes and then it is time to tackle the 3900 photos that I took on that trip.I have some new software to help sort out this mess, which was suggested to me from Jacob D.....Photoshop Lightroom.I bought two books on how to use the program, but it is supposed to allow me to quickly sort photos and to edit them automatically in batch form.Excited about that and do want to get that trip report done, considering that the trip was last August.Glad you enjoyed the photos....your daughter and you are great subjects to photograph.-Tony
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text:
Direct Backup of .mdf & .ldf
Hi friends,
We had SQL server. Its one instance is splited on many drives path.
we are able to backup it throug SQL.
we are able to restore on same server.
My challange come when we tried to restore it on other server, I think it was not able to detect those diff location (path) as define in original server.
so we tried to backup drive wise & restore all drive one-by-one but it skip .mdf & .ldf files in backup job.
Kindly suggest a way out to restore it on different server.
I had heared, there are some registry modification to enable symantec backup 2012 directly from drive(flat file) without skip .mdf & .ldf
Comments 7 Comments • Jump to latest comment
You cannot backup the .MDF and .ldf files because they are automatically excluded by AFE. This is by design. To restore your databases to other servers or paths, use the SQL redirection facility. When you use SQL redirection, the .mdf and .ldf files will always end up in the same directory. You can move the .ldf files to other directories after the restore.
It depends on what you are trying to restore. If you want to restore the existing databases to some point in past to your backup, then you do a in-place restore without any redirection. You said that you want to restore the databases to another server. You have to use redirection to do so. If you do not have sufficient space on the new server to restore your databases, then you would have to find more space. Space problem is not a BE problem.
I knew space is not BE issue, all i was looking to restore is 1TB SQL data to new servr. which is currently splited on to 3 drives C,D & E in production server.
1) Restore to new server with 1TB is possible
2) Restore to Identical server is possible (C,D & E have suficent space)
but my Question is as follows
3) Is it possible to have succesful restore on new server with D,E & F drives with nearly 300 GB available.on each. if I performe restore to 1TB usb drive how can I direvt it to D,E F respectivily.........
I hope my question is clear.....
Possible option is to disable Active File Exclusion via the registry, so that the .mdf & .ldf files can be backed up as flat-files - http://www.symantec.com/business/support/index?pag...


text:
(West Plains) – A West Plains resident suffered minor injuries Monday after the vehicle he was driving struck an embankment and overturned near West Plains.
The accident happened at 4:40 PM on Highway 63, about 6 miles south of West Plains. 21-year-old Brent Tackitt was taken by South Howell County EMS to Ozarks Medical Center in West Plains.
A report from the Highway Patrol states the southbound vehicle came to rest on its wheels in a private parking lot after overturning.


text:
T.J. Oshie admits he was relieved Saturday's game between Team USA and Russia was over. And he also deflected any connection to being a hero.
It was Oshie, a forward from the St. Louis Blues, who scored the winning goal in a shootout to beat Russia 3-2. He quickly showed the world he wasn't alone.
"I just turned around and wanted to go congratulate [goaltender Jonathan Quick] and the rest of the guys," said Oshie, whose winner was his fourth in six shootout attempts in the game.
"So it was a good win, I don't know how else I can describe it, I was just glad it was over."
Team USA and Russia are forever linked as rivals because of the 1980 "Miracle on Ice." If you don't know what that was, you don't know hockey. You are forgiven, but should take a quick search of history.
Saturday's game in Sochi was just another chapter in the hockey powers' history.
Oshie got his final goal in the eighth round in front of a noisy and partisan home crowd watching the preliminary round Group A clash. His victim, Sergei Bobrovsky, plays for the Columbus Blue Jackets, a Blues rival in the NHL's Central Division.
Afterwards Oshie struggled to describe his emotions. "It was a crazy game and a crazy finish," he said, his boyish face beaming.
At 27, Oshie isn't a kid anymore. He's been through the wars in the NHL, and he is proving USA Hockey correct in selecting him to the Olympic roster. There had been question of why he was selected.
Among the NHL's premiere shootout men, Oshie also showed he is a teammate first.
Asked where the victory ranked in his list of career achievements, Oshie kept his feet firmly on the ground.
"It's good, but like I say, this is one game in the round robin. We've got a long way to go here," he said. "Every game at the Olympics is going to be up there.
"This is something I always dreamed about but never thought would happen in the first place.
"Just being here is an honor and it's great, and I'll evaluate how it ranks up there later probably in my career when I'm done."
Long view, he wants to help the Blues win the Stanley Cup, something they have never done. Over the next week, his goal is simpler. Win Olympic goal, but do it one game at a time.
"It's something you dream about going into shootouts and imagine as a kid. It feels great right now, but we're focusing on tomorrow now," Oshie told the media throng on Saturday.
Tomorrow, in this case, is Sunday, when Team USA, now 2-0, takes on Slovenia. TV coverage on NBCSports; game time 7:30 a.m. ET.
One more thing: Asked about being an American hero, Oshie said: "The American heroes are wearing the camo outfits."
Oshie scores again.
— Contributing: OmniSport, The Associated Press


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Springtime for M&A in alternative investments?
|Aug 31st, 2010 | Filed under: Hedge Fund Industry Trends, Today's Post | By: AAA Staff
Springtime for Hitler is the satirical opening number to Mel Brooks' classic movie The Producers, where the juxtaposition of dancing stormtroopers both horrifies and entertains at the same time.
Springtime for mergers in acquisitions in the alternatives space could potentially be a spiritual sequel: on the one hand almost satirical to think about, given the financial battle the world has just gone through and at the same time the optimism that asset managers are once again attracting buyers, even after being perceived as having lost the battle.
According to the latest M&A report by Jefferies' Financial Institutions Group, it's not satirical at all to be at least somewhat optimistic that the long, dark winter of zero M&A activity is over, or at least on its way back, if current trends continue (click here to download the full report; click here to read the press release).
To continue reading this article please login (at the right) or click here to learn more about accessing our archives.


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Nia Long is Pregnant: Who Is the Baby Daddy?MariaLianos
Nia Long is pregnant with baby number two!
The star of Big Momma's House and The Best Man is expecting a baby – ten years after having her first!
That's a long gap in between is ready for diapers again?
The 40-year-old actress and philanthropist was spotted in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. She was seen walking along a beach while vacationing, showing off a baby bump.
Long looked "fresh and beautiful on the beach with her bundle of joy on the way", according to BET.com, who first announced the news.
But who is the baby daddy? No announcement yet on who the father is.
But the rumor is the father could be San Antonio Spurs' guard Ime Udoka who has been dating Long for about a year.
The Brooklyn native is mom to 11-year-old son Massai Zhivago Dorsey II with ex-boyfriend, actor Massai Z. Dorsey.
Congratulations to Nia!


text:
The Mogadishu fire department is resuming operations for the first time since 1991 when civil war broke out inSomalia. AU-UN IST
Broadcast-quality video for UNifeed stories is available online for two weeks. Should you wish to request older material, please contact the agency source of the material. For UNTV or peacekeeping stories, please contact the UN Video Library. You can contact Video Library by emailing to firstname.lastname@example.com.
© 2015 UNifeed.


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Pittsburgh's Tyler Kennedy scores the Pens' 4th goal on the Red Wings' Chris Osgood.
- Filed Under
PITTSBURGH -- The Red Wings gave the puck away and with it, their advantage in the Stanley Cup finals.
As uncharacteristic a period as the Wings have played all playoffs cost them Thursday's Game 4 as they gave up three goals in under six minutes to fall, 4-2, at Mellon Arena. The Stanley Cup finals are tied 2-2 as the series shifts back to Detroit on Saturday.
It began when the Wings gave up their first shorthanded goal of the 2009 playoffs, which segued into Sidney Crosby's first goal of the series and then a goal by a guy who almost never scores. Darren Helm and Brad Stuart had Detroit's goals. ...


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Ah, the men in Susana's life. What to do with the first gentleman and the second fiddle? It's a pesky problem.
The first gentleman, Chuck Franco, is unique in New Mexico politics. We haven't had a first gentleman before.
Chuck is retired and so doesn't have a job to go to every day. He was always at his wife's side during the campaign, helping in anyway he could. But now what does he do?
Franco has volunteered to help his wife in any way he can. His areas of expertise are in law enforcement. He worked undercover much of that time so he's good at playing other roles.
He's also a hunter and fisherman so he has been appointed to the transition committee for the Energy, Minerals and Natural Resources Department and the Environment Department.
When Kathy Carruthers, also from Las Cruces, was first lady, she created a Governor's Mansion Foundation to purchase and oversee the furniture, equipment and decorations in the public areas of the mansion.
The arrangement has worked well, saving the state time, effort and money.
The first ladies and foundation members have worked together well in identifying needs and making changes.
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Looking to see if anyone is interested in getting a herf going for New Jersey. Any takers? Let's hear from you guys...
6 replies to this topic
Posted 18 January 2012 - 07:26 PM
Posted 19 January 2012 - 08:51 AM
Where were you thinking of holding this Antonio?
Posted 20 January 2012 - 10:25 PM
Well I was going to get some suggestions from the members who may be interested. Do you have a place in mind ironpeddler? Thanks.
I do enjoy The Smokestack in Hackensack, NJ
I do enjoy The Smokestack in Hackensack, NJ
Posted 21 January 2012 - 08:49 AM
I'm at the Jersey Shore, Toms River/Brick area...our local B&M is Cigars Plus on Rt. 88 in Brick
So maybe somewhere in between?
So maybe somewhere in between?
Posted 22 January 2012 - 09:26 AM
That may work. Let me look into the shops. Thanks.
Posted 10 February 2012 - 08:46 AM
I'm in Vernon, But if held in Sussex, Essex, Morris or Union County, may be interested.
Anyone else from the Sussex County area?
Anyone else from the Sussex County area?
Edited by streetrod, 10 February 2012 - 08:46 AM.
Posted 28 February 2012 - 11:55 AM
If this ever gets moving let me know. I'm also in the Sussex County area. Newton, NJ.
Also tagged with one or more of these keywords: herf, cigars
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The Lobby - Non-Cigar Related →
How to make 500 cigars a day :)
Started by odeon999 , 13 Jan 2012 cigars
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Manufacturers →
Reinado Cigars - Recent Cigar Review!
Started by armhsmoker , 03 Dec 2011 Reinado Cigars, Cigars
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Cigar Herfs & Events →
The Cigar, Spirit and Golf Expo at the Hammock Beach Resort...
Started by CSG , 10 Oct 2011 events, herfs, cigars, smoke and 2 more...
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General Cigar Discussion →
Cigars for a rainy day
Started by SmokeHustler , 10 Sep 2011 rainy, day, cigars
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S 1403 - IDEA Full Funding Act 1750% increase to Pipe Tobacco proposed
Started by nismo270r , 04 Sep 2011 pipes, tobacco tax, cigars, ryo
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Oh... It's Christmas... Here... for two and a half more hours...
...and this is one of the few blogs that hasn't had a post today...
Well, hope you had a good Christmas!
Tomorrow, if all things work out, I'll be recording a quick podcast with Sam and maybe someone else... To be released before year's end.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Posted by Jared
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The Weeknd Remixes Lorde's 'Royals' – Listen
Conspiracy Theorist Takes Aim At Seahawks' Victory Over 49ers In NFC Championship
Will Ferrell Reveals That He's Actually Red Hot Chili Peppers Drummer Chad Smith
Phantogram Reveals Gauzy New Single 'Bill Murray'
Move Over Chili Peppers, Here Are The Top Lip Sync Performances
16 year old singer Lorde, the first woman to top the Alternative Charts in 17 years, gets a silky remix from the Canadian R&B lothario The Weeknd. While the original, chart-topping "Royals" was hazy, The Weeknd (born Abel Tesfaye) smooths out the track with tender production and coos in the background. Listen to the remix below (via Fader).


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This member hasn't added any personal information yet.
Leave BannedAgainBoston a message to find out more.
Posted 08/01/2011 02:07:26 EDT
The second the story hit, he went straight to the top of the list. It was immediately after the first story of "focusing in an area", this morning, that he 'fell ill'
Posted 02/24/2011 09:20:13 EST
This is why Teacher's Unions should be crushed. Real World: Employee gets FIRED. MA Communist School System: You keep your job for a few years, to make it look like it is unrelated, and then you get t more »
Posted 02/22/2011 08:49:31 EST
Dear LW, Did you work with me? You didn't happen to embezzle ~$250k by double-charging on shipping, and then laundering it through a Purch Dept Credit Card Account? Anyhow... PFFT, "White Collar Crime more »
Posted 01/25/2011 10:58:01 EST
I guess we pick our own version of Morality. I ignore 90% percent of "written" Laws, I merely see them as a "suggestion"; OTOH, when it comes to 'interpersonal' Morality I am simply unyielding and mer more »
Posted 01/25/2011 09:47:01 EST
Am I being "harsh", maybe. But I generally refer to it as being "truthful". Remember kiddies: * Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. * Always assume the "rule", and not the "exception". Sorry, ca more »
Posted 01/25/2011 09:23:43 EST
Val! 'sup?I agree with your post, Privileges REVOKED! What a wishy-washy pushover, it's hard to feel pity for him. This guy needs his Man Card confiscated... more »
Posted 01/25/2011 09:21:12 EST
Dear LW, Your wife is a skizzank. Yup, it's hard to move past that. You should have ditched her 15 years ago when you had the chance. Whether or not she cheats is purely academic, the thing here is ca more »
Posted 01/07/2011 11:50:41 EST
jeffd, Why are we so "negative"? If you even have to *ask*, then you clearly know NOTHING about business - or the current downward slide the gaming industry is in. His business model is NOT sound, tha more »
Posted 01/07/2011 09:44:03 EST
^Buy a clue Puck-head. I wouldn't work in Finance if my life depended on it. Can't actually make an intelligent argument, try to distract the conversation by making up facts and putting words in peopl more »
Posted 01/07/2011 08:48:28 EST
I'm willing to bet Curt $1,000 that his MMO will !FAIL!. 1) Market is over-saturated. WAAAAY to many MMOs out there already. 2) It's the ECONOMY stupid. People who MMO aren't going to spend more money more »
Posted 01/06/2011 01:11:10 EST
Sure, they are free "to live and love" - but they'll have to do without being Cops. Life is not fair, chalk it up to experience and find another job. more »
Posted 01/06/2011 11:24:05 EST
Maybe someone has to remind YOU that Public Servants should be held to the exact same standards that Private Employees are. Maybe someone has to remind YOU that there is no "Right to Employment for Li more »
Posted 01/06/2011 10:00:58 EST
In the corporate world, this is called "Conflict of Interest" & "Creating a Hostile Environment". Most Companies now have rules, if you are dating someone you have influence over - you must report thi more »
Posted 01/06/2011 08:44:59 EST
Just another case, proving that all Public Servants eventually de-evolve into Parasites. They think the rules don't apply to them. If this had happened in the corporate word, they would have been walk more »
Posted 01/05/2011 08:53:44 EST
Dear LW,I have some Swampland in Florida, and Bridge from Boston to Nantucket, which I think you would be very interested in buying. What did PT Barnum once say???... more »
Posted 01/05/2011 08:49:53 EST
Hopefully they get bought by Costco, or Sam's. Currently the other two chains make "Berkley & Jensens" look like a pathetic throwback, the current state of the Company hasn't changed in nearly 20 year more »
Posted 01/05/2011 08:45:46 EST
Anyone with an IQ above 100 knows that the FBI does not want to find him. Whether it be they don't want to be exposed as to how much they let him get away with, or there are still crooked agents who k more »
Posted 12/21/2010 03:39:51 EST
Hmm, they better go close down that Medical Supply shop too. Shh, I hear they sell Hemostats... and I hear they make quite functional "Clips". Oops, better shut down MGH too! more »
Posted 12/21/2010 01:58:13 EST
Good thing the buffoonish DA, and the stooge-ish Keystone Cops, don't work for an actual corporation; otherwise, they would have already been fired for wasting resources. So with crime spiraling in th more »
Posted 12/16/2010 04:18:59 EST
That was 64 Years TOO LONG! Thankfully I missed the first 22!!! more »
Posted 12/16/2010 09:13:22 EST
Dear LW, The dreams are completely normal, you have subconscious disturbances due to unresolved issues from the relationship - as well as the nagging question of "What could have been". De-friend her, more »
Posted 12/15/2010 03:22:14 EST
I still think an iPod is some magical Calculator that somehow plays Music. I'm no help here... more »
Posted 12/14/2010 04:12:57 EST
I showed up for work again today! Now where's my $500k party? OK, I'll settle for a $50 party - how's that? Hmm, nope, sorry, I don't get a party just for doing my job. more »
Posted 12/14/2010 09:17:38 EST
If anyone thinks it is impossible that he did this willingly, simply doesn't understand the bizarre and insanely dangerous thing that teenagers will suddenly do. I was a "smart" teen, from a good neig more »
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A Food Chart for Baby Can Work As a Great Guideline
You may be a great candidate for using a food chart for baby if you feel clueless at feeding time. Though feeding your baby was difficult when they were first born, you quickly learned that providing either ###### or bottle sufficed. You watched your baby grow and thrive as they made it through the number of feedings that occurred in a day. It's amazing to think that ###### milk or formula provided your baby with everything that they needed for the first few months. As most parents face the next stage of their baby's development and consider their feeding needs, this can present some brand new challenges. Fortunately there are some great resources out there to help you figure out what to do next and make the job far easier at that.
enter on:
enter on:


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Paris Bennett's new 'do
What do you think of Paris' new look?
[Via Entertainment Weekly]
PARIS IS VERY TALENTED---IT DOES NOT MATTER HOW SHE WEARS HER HAIR, THE GIRL CAN SING AND DANCE; HER VOICE MOVES YOUR SPIRIT IN A SPECIAL WAY; WHATEVER THEME SHE SINGS, HER HAIRSTYLE WILL FIT THE PART; SHE'S THE NEXT AMERICAN IDOL; SHE IS A BLESSED YOUNG GIRL AND I HOPE SHE RISE QUICKLY TO THE TOPApril 20 2006 at 3:24 PM Report abuse Permalink rate up rate down Reply
Poster number 12. WHAT are you talking about. Her "Midnight Train to Georgia" performance was by far her BEST performance to date. IF I would have had to chose an idol that night, it HAD to be Paris, hands down.
Give us a break. I have watched that performance,
(and others), at least 25 times now and it is superb. The best so far on Idol. SHE needs to get back to that one.
I am sure Gladys loved it.
What youre saying is it's not okay to be African American. African Americans have hair that can be styled many ways. Besides who wants to be a plain Jane and keep the same boring hair style day in and day out. Some of you people are insane! I love the comment about sending Paris to France for a little sprucing up. That's right send Paris someplace where she will be taught how not to be African American and conform her to the European standards of beauty. Racism is so deeply ingrained in some of you that you wouldn't know it if it hit you in the face.
Its amazing how when Paris danced most boards talked bad about Paris how dare she gyrate in front of America. However, when Shakira (Slutkira) does it half naked its mesmerizing and shes considered AMAZING! GMAB!
i think she looks fantastic in many different styles! and she is super talented. i could say a lot of stuff about the other contestants and their shitty looks!March 10 2006 at 5:45 PM Report abuse Permalink rate up rate down Reply
Paris can sing and nobody can take that away from her. She can easily take off the hair extensions and did. No big deal. She is adorable any way you look at it and her voice is unbelievable. Paris I love you!February 24 2006 at 11:59 PM Report abuse Permalink rate up rate down Reply
I think Paris has it all!!! I think the bopping around just showed her talent as a performer and entertainer. She is adorable no matter what she does. She is a young lady with a bright future. Her singing voice sure surprised me after hearing her speaking voice. I think she will go far no matter if she becomes "The 2006 American Idol" or not. I think she chose a GREAT song for her voice and she felt every minute of it. "You Go Girl".February 24 2006 at 9:09 PM Report abuse Permalink rate up rate down Reply
And please excuse my mistakes in my original entry...I believe I spelt things instead of thinks.February 24 2006 at 9:28 AM Report abuse Permalink rate up rate down Reply
Well, hmmmm ..... here we go again. I don't see what difference it makes...but I actually liked her new hair. I unfortunatly missed the show...but saw it here. I didn't see the bopping everyone is speaking of so I can't comment on that. But truthfuly, I don't see where it makes a bit of difference what anyone things of her hair...seriously, are you gonna base you vote on a hair-do ?February 24 2006 at 9:25 AM Report abuse Permalink rate up rate down Reply
the money was wasted on this young girl. the FRESH LOOK is IN, the MAKEOVERS are OUT. get with it.February 24 2006 at 9:24 AM Report abuse Permalink rate up rate down Reply
Paris has a very nice voice. Her hair shouldn't be the issue here. The bopping has got to go.February 24 2006 at 9:18 AM Report abuse Permalink rate up rate down Reply


text:
Asia Cycle IndustriesLudhiana, Punjab
Products & Services
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Single Freewheels
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- Chainwheels
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Other Products
Company Profile
Nothing great is ever born ready-made. The sweat swet by r.k. Jain - in jagraon exports now runs as blood in the veins of asia cycle industries which commenced production of high quality bicycle hubs, free-wheels, and chainwheel cranksets in the year 2001. R.k. Jain - a sui-generis businessman. It is because of his midhabits, prescient quality and gentle aspirations that he is considered as one of the staid businessman. The selection of product-mix, itself speaks of his ...view all
Fact Sheet
|Year of Establishment
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|Number of Employees
51 to 100 People


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(Willow Springs) – The Willow Springs Arts Council will be looking to construct an outdoor amphitheater, this after their most recent meeting Monday, March 18.
Mike McHenry, Vice President of the Willow Springs Arts Council proposed creating an outdoor amphitheater at the City Park to enhance the existing Joe Daugherty Memorial. Funding, parking, and liability issues were topics of discussion. McHenry stated that the arts council would like to develop a more definite plan with city council's approval to move forward with the project.
Also at the meeting, Animal Control Officer Bryan Hogan presented a proposed revision to the animal control ordinance. The council discussed some possible changes and requested a revised draft be presented at the next meeting.
The Willow Springs City Council also heard an update on the former MoDOT District 9 building and the 10th Street project from City Administrator Bob Pollard, who said that a meeting was held this month between Three Rivers Community College, Missouri State University-West Plains, the Missouri Department of Higher Education and Senator Mike Cunningham and Representative Shawn Rhoads. Pollard said that the outcome of the meeting was a thirty day window for each college to agree on the courses to be offered at the Willow Springs campus.
Pollard said more information will follow at the end of the thirty day period.


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CodeRyte Inc., acquired by 3M, was an industry leader in clinical natural language processing technology and computer-assisted coding solutions for healthcare outpatient providers.
The company's technology unlocks the full power of the physician narrative for coding, reimbursement and research, and helps human coders work faster and with more complete information than ever before. CodeRyte's workflow constructs for professional, technical, facility and global coding offer automation and safety mechanisms to ensure that with speed also comes increased safety and compliance.
7500 Old Georgetown Road, Bethesda, MD, 20814
Tel: 301-951-5300


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The Style Gallery is a great new way for you to view, love, and share outfit photos. It's meant to showcase
all the expressive, creative, and inspirational personalities of our community!
Love you too!
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No matter the weather, this strapless dress by Heel Athens Lab makes your whole day brighter! A patchwork of colors and stripes add quirky character to this cotton-blend frock, while a fluffy cloud makes way for a radiant rainbow along the hem. There's a 100% chance of charm when you wear this dress! Based in Greece, Heel Athens Lab focuses on the novelty of each garment, creating unique "art ornaments" for fashion individuals.
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Torvalds: Investigating ACPI Problems
In a post on the Linux Kernel mailing list, Thomas Gleixner claims to have fixed ACPI suspend and resume problems. Linus Torvalds praised him for doing so, but also has his doubts.
"Sorry, it took me quite a while to realize the real root cause of the VAIO - and probably many other machines - suspend/resume regressions, which were unearthed by the dyntick / clockevents patches.", Thomas Gleixner explains, referring to two patches, aimed to resolve the suspend error that Andrew Morton noticed on his Vaio notebook.
The first developer to respond was Linus Torvalds. He praised the patches - "Ok, so the patches look fine," but goes on to criticize Gleixner in the same sentence, "but I somehow have this slight feeling that you gave up a bit too soon on the "*why* does this happen?" question." Torvalds then goes on to answer the question himself: "I realize that the answer is easily "because ACPI screwed up". Torvalds guesses that the patches don't actually fix the problem, but just work around it: "Because we don't necessarily understand what the real background for the problem is, I'm not sure we can say that it is solved."
Torvalds also assumes that the kernel completes the preparations for Suspend mode, and that ACPI triggers the right steps. But the "stupid firmware" doesn't expect any further calls to achieve low power status. And this is where Torvalds sees problems. Despite this, he is still going to apply the patches as is, even though he would feel better if he understood why.
Issue 180/2015
Buy this issue as a PDF
Dyreza Malware is Back
Powerful man-in-the-middle attack is now targeting online shopping.
Kernel Developer Matthew Garrett Forks the Linux Kernel
Another high-profile coder says the kernel team needs a kinder, gentler culture.
Bugzilla Bug
Bug database has a bug of its own that could allow an intruder to create an unauthorized account.
US Launches New Strategy for Broadband Access
Report focuses federal resources on achieving universal Internet access.
RC4 Finally Gets the Fork
Leading browser makers say "no" to porous encryption algorithm
IBM Says TOR Network a Vehicle for Ransomware
Report from the X-Force group says attackers are using TOR to hide their crimes
Mozilla Announces new Firefox API
Future Firefox extensions will be compatible with Chrome.
Weird Security Flaw Affected Intel Chips for 16 Years
Better read this if you bought your computer before 2011
OpenSSH 7.0 Secure Shell Arrives
Users should upgrade to the new version as soon as possible
Qemu Flaw Lets the Guest Escape
Xen project announces a privilege escalation problem for Qemu host systems


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We have a two-year-old Cute Kid of the Day! His name is Samuel Alexander May II, but he goes by Alex! Alex's mom sent in his picture. She says he loves going to the Zoo, singing Itsy Bitsy Spider and pretending to be a T-Rex! If you want to see your cute kid on Live at 9, email us. Send a photo and info to email@example.com.
Cute Kid of the Day
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