text:
I am not usually comfortable in a bar by myself, but I had been in San Francisco for a week and the apartment I sublet had no chairs in it, just a bed and a couch. My friends in town were married or worked nights. One Tuesday I had lentil soup for supper standing up at the kitchen counter. After I finished, I moved to the couch in the empty living room and sat under the flat overhead light refreshing feeds on my laptop. This was not a way to live. A man would go to a bar alone, I told myself. So I went to a bar alone.
I sat on a stool at the centre of the bar, ordered a beer, and refreshed the feeds on my mobile. I waited for something to happen. A basketball game played on several monitors at once. The bar had red fake leather booths, Christmas lights and a female bartender. A lesbian couple cuddled at one end of it. At the other end, around the corner from where I sat, a bespectacled man my age watched the game. As the only man and the only woman alone at the bar, we looked at each other. Then I pretended to watch the game on a monitor that allowed me to look the other way. He turned his back to me to watch the monitor over the pool tables, where the pool players now applauded some exploit.
I waited to be approached. A few stools down, two men broke into laughter. One came over to show me why they were laughing. He handed me his mobile and pointed to a Facebook post. I read the post and smiled obligingly. The man returned to his seat. I drank my beer.
I allowed myself a moment's longing for my living room and its couch. The couch had a woollen blanket woven in a Navajo-inspired pattern, exemplary of a trend in San Francisco that a friend of mine calls 'White People Gone Wild'. When I moved in, the receipt for the blanket was on the mantelpiece. It had cost $228. There was a cast-iron gas stove in the fireplace. I had fiddled with the knobs and the gas, but couldn't figure out how to ignite it. At night the room had the temperature and pallor of a corpse. There was no television.
I returned to my mobile and opened OK Cupid, the free internet dating service. I refreshed the feed that indicated whether other people in the neighbourhood were sitting alone in bars. This service is called OK Cupid Locals. An OK Cupid Locals invitation has to start with the word 'Let's':
Let's smoke a joint and hang out ☺
Let's grab a brunch, lunch, beer or some such for some friendly Saturday revelry.
Let's get a drink after Koyaanisqatsi at the Castro.
Let's meet and tickle.
Let's enjoy a cookie.
Let's become friends and explore somewhere.
'Let's go now you and I' always comes into my mind, but I've never broadcast an OK Cupid chat signal, I just respond. That night I scrolled until I found a handsome man who had written a benign invitation: 'Let's get a drink.' I looked at his profile. He was Brazilian. I speak Portuguese. He played the drums. 'Tattoos are a big part of my friends' and family's life,' he wrote. Every era has its own utopian possibilities: ours is the chance to make our lives more bearable through technology.
The man generally held responsible for internet dating as we know it today is a native of Illinois called Gary Kremen, but Kremen was out of the internet dating business altogether by 1997, just around the time people were signing up for the internet en masse. Today he runs a solar energy financing company, is an elected official in Los Altos Hills, California and is better known for his protracted legal battle over the ownership of the pornography website sex.com than he is for inventing internet dating. Like many visionary entrepreneurs, Kremen doesn't have very good management skills. His life has passed through periods of grave disarray. When I met him, at a conference on the internet dating industry in Miami last January, he asked where I was from. 'Ah, Minnesota,' he said: 'Have you ever been to the Zumbro River?' The Zumbro flows south of Minneapolis past Rochester, home of the Mayo Clinic. It turned out that Kremen had once driven, or been driven, into the river. He used to be addicted to speed.
In Miami Kremen recounted the genesis of his ideas about internet dating to a room full of matchmakers. In 1992, he was a 29-year-old computer scientist and one of the many graduates of Stanford Business School running software companies in the Bay Area. One afternoon a routine email with a purchase order attached to it arrived in his inbox. But it wasn't routine: the email was from a woman. At the time, emails from women in his line of work were exceedingly rare. He stared at it. He showed the email to his colleagues. He tried to imagine the woman behind it. 'I wonder if she would date me?' Then he had another idea: what if he had a database of all the single women in the world? If he could create such a database and charge a fee to access it, he would most probably turn a profit.
In 1992, that couldn't be done – modems transmitted information too slowly. Then there was the scarcity of women with online access. Because in its early days the internet was prevalent in worlds that had historically excluded women – the military, finance, mathematics and engineering – women were not online in big numbers. As late as 1996 America Online estimated that of its five million users, 79 per cent were men. In more administrative fields, however, a growing number of women had email.
So Kremen started with email. He left his job, hired some programmers with his credit card, and created an email-based dating service. Subscribers were given anonymous addresses from which to send out their profiles with a photo attached. The photos arrived as hard copy, and Kremen and his employees scanned them in by hand. Interested single people who did not yet have email could participate by fax. By 1994 modems had got faster, so Kremen moved to take his company online. He and four male partners formed Electric Classifieds Inc, a business premised on the idea of re-creating online the classifieds section of newspapers, beginning with the personals. They rented an office in a basement in San Francisco and registered the domain match.com.
'ROMANCE – LOVE – SEX – MARRIAGE AND RELATIONSHIPS' read the headline on an early business plan Electric Classifieds presented to potential investors. 'American business has long understood that people knock the doors down for dignified and effective services that fulfil these most powerful human needs.' Kremen eventually removed 'sex' from his list of needs, but many of the basic parts of most online dating sites were laid out in this early document. Subscribers completed a questionnaire, indicating the kind of relationship they wanted – 'marriage partner, steady date, golf partner or travel companion'. Users posted photos: 'A customer could choose to show himself in various favourite activities and clothing to give the viewing customer a stronger sense of personality and physical character.'
The business plan cited a market forecast that suggested 50 per cent of the adult population would be single by 2000 (a 2008 poll found 48 per cent of American adults were single, compared to 28 per cent in 1960). At the time, single people, particularly those over the age of 30, were still seen as a stigmatised group with which few wanted to associate. But the age at which Americans marry was rising steadily and the divorce rate was high. A more mobile workforce meant that single people often lived in cities they didn't know and the chummy days when a father might set his daughter up with a junior colleague were over. Since Kremen started his company little has changed in the industry. Niche dating sites have proliferated, new technology has made new ways of meeting people possible and new gimmicks hit the market every day, but as I knew from my own experience, the fundamental characteristics of the online dating profile have remained static.
At the same time big cities have a way of shrinking. In her essay about leaving New York Joan Didion tells a man she'll take him to a party where he might meet some 'new faces', and he laughs at her. 'It seemed that the last time he had gone to a party where he had been promised "new faces", there had been 15 people in the room, and he had already slept with five of the women and owed money to all but two of the men.' Didion doesn't say, but I've always assumed her friend went to the party anyway.
I joined OK Cupid at the age of 30, in late November 2011, with the pseudonym 'viewfromspace'. When the time came to write the 'About' section of my profile, I quoted Didion's passage, then added: 'But now we have internet dating. New faces!' The Didion bit sounded unpleasant, so I replaced it with a more optimistic statement, about internet dating restoring the city's possibilities to a life that had become stagnant between work, subway and apartment. Then that sounded depressing, so I finally wrote: 'I like watching nature documentaries and eating pastries.' From then on I was flooded with suggestions of YouTube videos of endangered species and recommendations for pain au chocolat.
OK Cupid was founded in 2004 by four maths majors from Harvard who were good at giving away things people were used to paying for (study guides, music). In 2011 they sold the company for $50 million to IAC, the corporation that now owns Match. Like Match, OK Cupid has its users fill out a questionnaire. The service then calculates a user's 'match percentage' in relation to other users by collecting three values: the user's answer to a question, how she would like someone else to answer the same question, and the importance of the question to her. These questions ranged from 'Does smoking disgust you?' to 'How often do you masturbate?' Many questions are specifically intended to gauge one's interest in casual sex: 'Regardless of future plans, what's more interesting to you right now, sex or true love?' 'Would you consider sleeping with someone on the first date?' 'Say you've started seeing someone you really like. As far as you're concerned, how long will it take before you have sex?' I found these algorithms put me in the same area – social class and level of education – as the people I went on dates with, but otherwise did very little to predict whom I would like. One occurrence in both online and real-life dating was an inexplicable talent on my part for attracting vegetarians. I am not a vegetarian.
I should note that I answered all the questions indicating an interest in casual sex in the negative, but that's fairly common for women. The more an internet-dating site leads with the traditional signifiers of (male) sexual desire – pictures of women in their knickers, open hints about casual sex – the less likely women are to sign up for it. At a 51/49 male to female ratio, OK Cupid has a near parity many sites would envy. It's not that women are averse to the possibility of a casual encounter (I would have been very happy had the right guy appeared), but they need some sort of alibi before they go looking. Kremen had also noticed this, and set up Match to look neutral and bland, with a heart-shaped logo.
I wanted a boyfriend. I was also badly hung up on someone and wanted to stop thinking about him. People cheerily list their favourite movies and hope for the best, but darkness simmers beneath the chirpy surface. An extensive accrual of regrets lurks behind even the most well-adjusted profile. I read 19th-century novels to remind myself that sunny equanimity in the aftermath of heartbreak was not always the order of the day. On the other hand, online dating sites are the only places I've been where there's no ambiguity of intention. A gradation of subtlety, sure: from the basic 'You're cute,' to the off-putting 'Hi there, would you like to come over, smoke a joint and let me take nude photos of you in my living room?'
The largest free dating site in America is another algorithm-based service, Plenty of Fish, but in New York everyone I know uses OK Cupid, so that's where I signed up. I also signed up to Match, but OK Cupid was the one I favoured, mostly because I got such constant and overwhelming attention from men there. The square-jawed bankers who reigned over Match, with their pictures of scuba diving in Bali and skiing in Aspen, paid me so little attention it made me feel sorry for myself. The low point came when I sent a digital wink to a man whose profile read, 'I have a dimple on my chin,' and included photos of him playing rugby and standing bare-chested on a deep-sea fishing vessel holding a mahi-mahi the size of a tricycle. He didn't respond to my wink.
I went to a lecture by the novelist Ned Beauman who compared the OK Cupid experience to Carl Sagan pondering the limits of our ability even to imagine non-carbon-based extraterrestrial life, let alone perceive when it was beaming signals to us. We troll on OK Cupid for what we think we want, but what if we are incapable of seeing the signals being sent to us, let alone interpreting them?
OK Cupid gave the almost awe-inspiring impression of Kremen's dream database: unlimited choice. There are drawbacks to this. As the sociologist Eva Illouz writes in Cold Intimacies, 'the experience of romantic love is related to an economy of scarcity, which in turn enables novelty and excitement.' In contrast, 'the spirit presiding over the internet is that of an economy of abundance, where the self must choose and maximise its options and is forced to use techniques of cost-benefit and efficiency.' At first it was exciting but after a couple of months the cracks began to show. What Beauman says about our inability to gauge what might be attractive turned out to be true. Consider the following.
I went on a date with a classical composer who invited me to a John Cage concert at Juilliard. After the concert we looked for the bust of Béla Bartók on 57th Street. We couldn't find it, but he told me how Bartók had died there of leukaemia. I wanted to like this man, who was excellent on paper, but I didn't. I gave it another go. We went out for a second time to eat ramen in the East Village. I ended the night early. He next invited me to a concert at Columbia and then to dinner at his house. I said yes but I cancelled at the last minute, claiming illness and adding that I thought our dating had run its course. I was in fact sick, but he was angry with me. My cancellation, he wrote, had cost him a 'ton of time shopping, cleaning and cooking that I didn't really have to spare in the first place a few days before a deadline …' He punctuated almost exclusively with Pynchonian ellipses.
I apologised, then stopped responding. In the months that followed he continued to write, long emails with updates of his life, and I continued not responding until it came to seem as if he was lobbing his sadness into a black hole, where I absorbed it into my own sadness.
I went on a date with a furniture craftsman. We met at a coffee shop. It was a sunny afternoon in late February, but a strange snowfall began after we arrived, the flakes sparkling in the sun. The coffee shop was below ground, and we sat at a table by a window that put us just below two chihuahuas tied to a bench on the sidewalk outside. They shivered uncontrollably despite their fitted jackets. They looked down at us through the window, chewing on their leashes. The woodworker bought me a coffee and drank tea in a pint glass.
Our conversation was strained. He seemed bored. His blue eyes shifted restlessly and he had a moustache. He had gone to a school for graphic design in Arizona. He showed me photos of furniture he made. He had calloused hands and was tall. He was attractive but dour and I wondered why: was it me, or a generalised posture against the world? We discovered we had been born in the same hospital, Allentown Hospital in Allentown, Pennsylvania, except that I was seven months older. In another era, the era when marriage was dictated by religion, family and the village, we might have had several children by now. Instead my parents had moved halfway across the country when I was three years old, he had stayed in Allentown until adulthood and now we both lived in bleak Bedford-Stuyvesant and were 30. He thought of himself as defiant, and loved being a craftsman only as much as he had hated working in an office. After drinking his tea, he went to the bathroom, came back and wordlessly put on his coat. I stood up and did the same. We walked up the stairs into the February wind. We said goodbye.
I went on a date with a man who turned out to be a hairstylist who had attracted me with his Texas charm: 'A nod and a bow, Ms Space,' he had written. He arrived late to our date in Alphabet City, having accommodated some last-minute clients who wanted unscheduled blow-drys for their own dates. On either side of his neck he had tattoos of crossed scimitars. I asked him what the tattoos meant. He said they meant nothing. They were mistakes. He pushed up his sleeves and revealed more mistakes. As a teenager in Dallas he had let his friends use him as a training canvas. To call the tattoos mistakes seemed to be different from regretting them. He didn't regret them. He said it was just that his 16-year-old self was giving him the finger. 'You think you've changed,' the 16-year-old version of him was saying through the tattoos: 'Fuck you, I'm still here.'
OK Cupid had another unintended effect, which was that in posting my profile, however pseudonymously, I had adorned myself with the equivalent of a 'For Sale' sign. Those who saw me on OK Cupid whom I knew in real life and who recognised my photo would often contact me: 'I saw you on OK Cupid and I thought I would write.' I went for Colombian food in Greenpoint with one of these. When I arrived my date was reading some documents that the National Security Agency had recently declassified to do with John Nash, the schizophrenic genius portrayed in A Beautiful Mind. We ordered arepas and beers. I liked this man. He had a job he loved at a blue-chip art gallery and lived in a spacious, high-ceiling apartment overlooking a tree-filled park with benches that formed a serpentine pattern. We talked about Cascadian black metal bands and the idea of resisting capitalism through unlistenable music and sustainable agriculture. We walked from Cafecito Bogotá back to his impeccable apartment, where he played ambient records and I petted his two cats. We decided to conduct an OK Cupid Locals experiment: he broadcast 'Let's lkjdlfjlsjdfijsflsjlj.' I sat next to him on the couch. I refreshed my phone to see if his broadcast came up. It did. We looked at each other. He walked me to the train.
Around this time I met someone in the real world. It didn't work out, but it was a vivid enough reminder of what it feels like to want to sleep with someone and not even know what their favourite books are to make internet dating all but impossible for a while. The boredom returned, the ex-boyfriend resumed his place in the halls of memory. I went west and the walls of the all but unfurnished apartment in San Francisco loomed over me.
Like most people I had started internet dating out of loneliness. I soon discovered, as most do, that it can only speed up the rate and increase the number of encounters with other single people, where each encounter is still a chance encounter. Internet dating destroyed my sense of myself as someone I both know and understand and can also put into words. It had a similarly harmful effect on my sense that other people can accurately know and describe themselves. It left me irritated with the whole field of psychology. I began responding only to people with very short profiles, then began forgoing the profiles altogether, using them only to see that people on OK Cupid Locals had a moderate grasp of the English language and didn't profess rabidly right-wing politics.
Internet dating alerted me to the fact that our notions of human behaviour and achievement, expressed in the agglomerative text of hundreds of internet dating profiles, are all much the same and therefore boring and not a good way to attract other people. The body, I also learned, is not a secondary entity. The mind contains very few truths that the body withholds. There is little of import in an encounter between two bodies that would fail to be revealed rather quickly. Until the bodies are introduced, seduction is only provisional.
In the depths of loneliness, however, internet dating provided me with a lot of opportunities to go to a bar and have a drink with a stranger on nights that would otherwise have been spent unhappy and alone. I met all kinds of people: an X-ray technician, a green tech entrepreneur, a Polish computer programmer with whom I enjoyed a sort of chaste fondness over the course of several weeks. We were both shy and my feelings were tepid (as, I gathered, were his), but we went to the beach, he told me all about mushroom foraging in Poland, he ordered his vegetarian burritos in Spanish, and we shared many mutual dislikes.
As for that night in San Francisco, I responded to an online beacon, and I went for a drink with a stranger. We kissed, he showed me his special collection of marijuana plants, and we talked about Brazil. Then I went home and never spoke to him again.
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The Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting of innocent, beautiful children and their heroic adult protectors has touched something really deep within the sacred heart of humanity; it feels as if a tipping point has been reached.
I live in Portland, Oregon, where days before the Newtown massacre there was a shooting in the local mall in which two people were killed. My first reaction upon hearing about the shooting of so many defenseless women and children was a combination of horror while at the same time I found myself not surprised, as I had the thought, "This is what happens in the midst of a collective psychosis." Our society, as well as our species, is suffering from a psychic epidemic of titanic proportions. This collective madness pervades the global body politic in such a way that it is hard to recognize because our madness is so obvious and has become so normalized that we don't even notice it anymore, a blindness which itself is an expression of how advanced our madness has become. What happened in Newtown, in what has been called "the safest town in America," is a symptom and expression of an underlying web of pathology that pervades not only our society, but the world at large.
It is as if our civilization is having a collective nervous breakdown, in which the underlying dysfunctional structures that are holding together (while at the same time obscuring) the deeper collective madness are de-constructing, dis-integrating, and coming apart at the seams. It is as if "darker powers" are materializing and becoming visible in our daily world, emerging through the cracks in the façade, as if our species is making a shamanic descent en masse into the underworld. And in the archetypal descent of the shaman, it is never simply death, but it is always death/rebirth, for something new is born in the process.
After realizing the enormity of the horror that was being enacted within the walls of that elementary school, I began feeling as if I were in the middle of a bad dream. The day of the school shooting, ironically, was the very day the local Portland mall opened for business after its shooting; it was as if I were having a recurring nightmare. I find myself wondering — what if this really were a dream? What would all of this mean? What if an individual client came into my office and shared their previous night's dream, and it was what had happened in Newtown? What would this dream be showing us about the state of this person's psyche?
When we view our life as a shared, collective dream, each character in the dream is an aspect of the dreamer, which in this case is all of us. When we treat what is happening in our life "as if" it is a dream and interpret it as such, it can help us get new insights into the deeper, underlying dynamics at work within our psyche. Seen as if it's a dream, its many-faceted and multi-leveled meaning is individually custom-tailored for each one of us, which is to say that there is no monolithic meaning which applies to all; there is no one-size-fits-all when it comes to dream interpretation. On the contrary, we each have to find the part of ourselves that these events reflect within ourselves.
When I am suggesting to view our situation as a dream, I am not in any way trying to minimize or avoid the mind-numbing horror of what has taken place, for people being killed is as real as real can be. By pointing at the dreamlike quality of what has happened, I am inviting us to view our situation symbolically, for symbols are the language of dreams. When a deeper symbolic pattern becomes visible and recurs with increasing frequency, something unknown is emerging, trying to get our attention and become conscious. If we don't recognize what is being revealed, however, just as in a recurring dream, the message gets amplified and reoccurs with ever-increasing intensity so as to get our attention.
The elementary school shooting is an acute local outbreak of a nonlocal, systemic illness that pervades the entire global body politic as well as the underlying field of consciousness. The Sandy Hook horror is pointing to and an expression of a psycho-spiritual sickness deep within the soul of humanity that is informing events in our world so as to materialize itself into, as and through our three dimensional world. The Native Americans have named this collective sickness "wetiko," which we can conceive of as the spirit of evil that can take over a person or a group of people and compel them to act out unspeakable and unimaginable acts of horror, cruelty and destruction.
The person so possessed is in such an extremely dissociated state that he is literally enacting in the outside world the very self-destruction of a psyche turned against itself in total self-hatred. Through his murderous actions in the outside world, the perpetrator of such heinous acts is revealing to us how thoroughly the evil of wetiko can ravage the inner landscape of the human soul. Just as any piece of a hologram contains the information of the entire hologram, and any fragment of a dream potentially contains a symbolically coded message casting light on our whole process, a particular event such as the Connecticut school shooting, when seen symbolically, has encoded within it the revelation of a deeper archetypal process that is playing out in the collective unconscious of humanity, which is to say, deep inside each one of us.
In Newtown, Connecticut, evil burst onto the scene and announced itself in a way that is impossible to ignore. The innocent part of ourselves was murdered in cold blood in that Sandy Hook school. To quote the governor of Connecticut, "Evil visited this community today." When evil manifests itself in full-bodied form in a dream, it is an expression that this archetypal energy is potentially available for assimilation into consciousness in a way that it had not been as long as it was hidden and operating covertly in the shadows. Everything depends upon how consciousness responds to the emergence of evil. The evil of wetiko operates through the unconscious blind-spots of humanity, and it is highly contagious — as if it is a systemic, nonlocal disease that exists in potential throughout the entire field of consciousness and propagates itself through our unconscious reactions to it. It is therefore helpful to self-reflect upon what gets triggered within us (see "the lion's gaze") when evil becomes visible in the field. These monstrous, inhuman acts literally demand that we come to terms with and illumine the source of evil, both as it manifests in the world and particularly within ourselves.
We can all potentially fall prey to evil; who among us has not unwittingly acted out our unconscious in a way that has been hurtful to either ourselves or others? There is a knee-jerk reaction to concretize the shooter as a "monster," which unconsciously acts as a relief, for we then "know" where evil is located, mistakenly thinking it is not found in ourselves as well (see "shadow projection") . Seeing evil out there, separate from and having nothing to do with ourselves, however — whether seen in the person of the shooter, or in the world at large — is the very perspective through which we are unwittingly colluding with and feeding the very evil we are reacting against. The emergence of evil literally demands we look within and recognize our own darkness (please see "the shadow"). For how can we possibly deal with evil as it appears in the world if we are not aware of the darkness operating within ourselves?
If we hold the perspective of solidifying the gunman as "being evil," we make the mistake of conflating and identifying a specific person with an archetypal energy that, although it may have temporarily possessed him, doesn't belong to him. It is important to make the distinction: the murderer is not evil, per se, but rather a very sick human being who has allowed himself to become an "instrument," not merely for personal evil, but for archetypal evil to take him over and temporarily use him to act itself out through him into our world. Possessed by evil, we can rightfully say that he was incarnating — and revealing — this formless, archetypal dynamic in human form.
Archetypal evil can be conceived of as being a non-physical, higher-dimensional energy — what the Bible calls "powers and principalities" — that bleeds through into our three dimensional world, using human beings as its agents of incarnation. When an archetypal, collective pathology is not recognized as such, it will enlist an individual to be its mouthpiece, as if the particular individual so possessed becomes the portal through which the deeper, formless archetypal process is making itself known in form. Unless we recognize the deeper process that is being revealed, the habitual tendency is to then see the malignancy residing within the specific person, instead of recognizing that the person is a localized emanation of a nonlocal condition that pervades the collective unconscious itself.
The great doctor of the soul C. G. Jung noticed that whenever evil manifested in an individual person's process, however, something good always came from it that would not have emerged without the appearance of evil; might the same be true not just individually, but collectively as well? This is to say that the emergence of a dark shadow is also an expression that a bright light is nearby, for shadows are themselves manifestations of light. Paradoxically, shadows are simultaneously an expression of the absence of light as well as its presence.
It is as if encoded in the dark side of God, what scholar Rudolf Otto calls the mysterium horrendum, is a revelation that can potentially help us to wake up. Significantly, at the same time that archetypal evil repeatedly acts itself out in the world through drafting people to be its "reps," it is revealing itself for all who have eyes to see. We typically think of illumination as seeing the light, but seeing the darkness is a form of illumination as well. All we have to do to see is open our eyes and look. We need to recognize what is being revealed, or we will be caught in an ever-escalating nightmare, as though we are a species fated to compulsively repeat its trauma, creating our own hell realm right here on planet earth.
Seeing what is being revealed requires the slightest shift in our perception, a change that changes everything. Besides focusing exclusively on the specific details of a particular event, we can begin to notice the deeper, more fundamental and underlying pattern that connects and animates similar events, as if all of these scenarios are inter-nested iterations of the same deeper fractal that is emerging into the world as it makes itself known to our consciousness. Seeing from this perspective introduces us to the nonlocal field that underlies, in-forms and gives shape to our world. "The field," as Einstein once put it, "is the only reality." Recognizing the underlying field — of which we are all expressions, as well as contained in and connected by — cuts through any sense of separation between ourselves and the whole universe. From the point of view of the field, everything is seamlessly connected with everything else in such a way that there is no separation anywhere.
Recognizing the field gives us an expansion of consciousness in which we recognize our kinship, interdependence and interconnectedness with each other and all living, sentient beings, including the shooter. We are each reflections of one another, dream characters in each other's dream; the energetic expression of this realization is compassion. When we recognize that at the most fundamental level we don't exist "apart from" one another, but rather, are "a part of" each other, it is as if evil itself has introduced us to the living reality that we are not separate from anyone or anything; evil has brought us together. Evil has then become the inspiration and stimulator for lucidity and compassion. It is as if encoded in evil, however horrible its manifestation, is a personal invitation, addressed to all of us, to wake up.
When seen as a dream, the beautiful, innocent and precious children who were murdered, and the courageous adults who died trying to save them, can all be thought of as angelic beings, messengers who sacrificed themselves so as to potentially wake us up, as if this was their role to play in the cosmic drama of life. May their memory not live in vain, but be a true memorializing and inspiration for all the rest of us. We truly honor those who were so brutally taken away by receiving the gift they are offering us. Let us recognize what is being revealed through them. I imagine they would want nothing less.
Image by Andrew Malone, courtesy of Creative Commons license.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Stormwater FAQs
What is stormwater and why do we need to manage it?
Stormwater is urban runoff that is a direct result of precipitation that cannot infiltrate into the soil or be absorbed by vegetation. It flows through pipes, gutters, swales, or over land. It washes pollutants such as soil, trash, automotive fluids, fertilizers, and detergents into our creeks, rivers, and lakes. In heavy storms, it can cause flash flooding drainage problems.
Urbanization causes significant changes in runoff characteristics. Such changes can:
- increase erosion and formation of gullies in upland areas,
- increase in-stream scour and erosion,
- increase sediment deposition in lower areas,
- degrade water quality,
- result in more and faster runoff and more frequent flooding,
- reduce groundwater recharge, lower the water table, and result in streams drying up more frequently, and
- result in negative effects on stream ecological communities.
These impacts can impact both the built environment and natural systems, and require continuous management, maintenance, repair and replacement of the stormwater management system, and careful planning to mitigate existing and future problems.
How does the Town's stormwater related efforts benefit taxpayers, homeowners, and other community members?
The following are some of the primary services and activities:
- water quality improvement activities (regulatory and local needs based)
- stream and riparian restoration and other beneficial projects
- public drainage and storm sewer maintenance, repair, and improvement
- street sweeping and cleaning
- National Flood Insurance Program (NFIP) participation
- supporting eligible residents interested in pursuing flood mitigation grants
- pursuing and administering grants for public projects
- watershed plans and other studies
- public education and participation
- Land Use Ordinance administration
What state and federal requirements does the Town have to meet with regard to water resource issues?
The Town participates in the National Flood Insurance Program that requires administration of the federal regulations pertaining to floodplain management and other flooding related issues.
The Town administers it National Pollutant Discharge Elimination System - Phase 2 stormwater permit and annually reports to the NC Department of Environmental Quality. This permit requires the Town to meet the measures outlined in the permit to reduce and mitigate non-point source stormwater pollution
The Town administers the state's Water Supply Watershed, Jordan Lake Rules, and Stormwater Minimum Design Criteria development regulations.
The Town ensures that state and federal jurisdictional waters and wetlands are not impacted without proper certification from the Army Corps of Engineers and the state's Wetlands Certification Unit.
What is an impervious surface?
In general terms, an impervious surface is a hardened surface (concrete, rooftop, asphalt, compacted gravel, etc.) that does not allow rainfall to infiltrate. Increases in impervious surface areas, if not treated by a Stormwater Control Measure, cause increased pollutant loading, volume and rate of stormwater runoff, decreased infiltration of stormwater into the soil, and a lower stream base flow and groundwater table.
The streambank on my property is eroding. What can I do?
If your streambank is lined with a natural buffer of trees or shrubs, keep them in place as they are stabilizing the soil, filtering pollutants, and creating beneficial habitat. Cutting this vegetation back or mowing right up to the streambank could compromise these benefits. The NC State Cooperative Extension provides some guidance on how to reinforce streambanks here. Please check with staff (Planning or Stormwater) before doing any more extensive work within a stream channel or buffer.


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The demands of the real world has led one of our favorite Marat Safin blogs, Butter's Bubble, to hang up its keyboard after a good run in 2007.
Who's going to keep watch over the Russian's necklaces now?!
You did a great job, Butter. If ever you feel an itch to post something, you're always welcome to do so on TSF…
By the way, this is how Marat's neck looked at this week's Australian Open. He lost 4-6, 4-6, 6-2, 6-3, 2-6 in the second round to fellow adidas-wearer Marcos Baghdatis.
(photo via Getty Images)
>> TSF's aussie open coverage


text: The breakneck pace of Grant Morrison's run on ACTION COMICS continues as the Superman of the present day must team up with suspiciously different versions of the Legion of Super-Heroes to save the jeans-wearing Superman of five years ago! Whose hand is that on the cover? Why, the leader of the Anti-Superman Army, of course! Plus, a backup by Sholly Fisch and ChrisCross that spins directly out of the lead story!


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A Celestial Hierarchy
Pat Bartos
Though the Church has never issued an official declaration on the celestial hierarchy of angels, by tradition it is seen as a highly structured environment.
Angels are ranked into nine choirs, or categories, and divided into three hierarchies: seraphim, cherubim and thrones; dominations, virtues and powers; principalities, archangels and angels.
The highest orders are noted for their zeal and ceaseless contemplation of God Those in the second hierarchy are associated with the care of human affairs, and the lowest ranks are charged with announcing God's will.
Reigning at the top of this spectrum, existing in the realm closest to God, are the seraphim, characterized by their fiery love, which is said to reflect onto the lesser ranks of angels.
Cherubim are associated with intellect. They share a deep insight into God's secrets and understand the requirements of salvation.
Thrones symbolize submission and peace, and they help people to abide by God's will. By tradition, God rests on them and imparts His Spirit, which they pass on to lesser angels and to mankind.
The second hierarchy is led by the dominations, who rule over lesser angels to carry out commands of God and make known God's authority.
Virtues fulfill this work and, through them, God oversees the seasons and visible heavens.
The powers, by tradition, are the favorite of mortals, assigned to fight evil spirits and defeat their plans.
Principalities rule over the lowest hierarchy, guarding countries and charged with making announcements to mankind. They govern souls and bodies.
Archangels by tradition guard great persons and, under St. Michael, they protect the Church.
Angels form the lowest rank. They include guardian angels and stand ready to follow where God sends them.
This article was taken from the March-April 1996 issue of "Catholic Heritage". To subscribe write Our Sunday Visitor, Inc., 200 Noll Plaza, Huntington, IN 46750-9957 or call 1-800-348-2440.


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Ok, you can find video of Kathleen Hanna singing with her bands all over the web, and she pops up here and there in films, but why hasn't there actually been a full-length documentary devoted to perhaps the most defining figure of the feminist punk movement? If you've been following Kathleen Hanna's career fervidly over the years, as I have, you can finally get your fix. Sini Anderson, veteran indie feminist and queer filmmaker/activist/poet/renaissance person, has taken the helm of a new project, titled The Punk Singer: The Documentary about Kathleen Hanna. For those not acquainted Hanna's work, she's a NY-based artist probably best known for her work in important feminist bands Bikini Kill and Le Tigre. Here's Hanna at a 2010 performance:
The content of the film is still a closely guarded secret–Anderson will say only that she's producing it by the skin of her teeth with a little help from her friends. She has just put up a new Kickstarter page to help fund the current stage of the project (which incidentally has a great video teaser for the movie and tons of information about the production).
As Hanna blogged Tuesday,
I know [Sini Anderson's] the right person, because I know that even if I come off as over dramatic or cocky or even a total jerk, it, for sure, won't be boring. Every time I get freaked out I think about the documentary about Valentino called The Last Emperor, and in it he comes off as a total primadonna, but, he's honest and he let himself be seen, truly seen, and that made him loveable and compelling. Sini has made me want to "be seen" in a way I never felt comfortable with before, and that's a pretty special talent…I've only seen the 5 minutes that just got put up, some of which is pretty embarrassing (Spoiler alert: I cry and my chin quavers) but it is shot beautifully and I'm excited to see how it comes out.
Also cool: If you're able to donate to the project, depending on the amount you give, you can receive one of Hanna's zines, a signed poster or tickets to a private screening with Hanna and Anderson.
Picture of Hanna and Anderson courtesy of Anderson.


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Peace negotiations between the Juan Manuel Santos administration and the Armed Revolutionary Forces of Colombia (FARC) are to resume after a month-long recess. The agenda will tackle the political participation of the insurgency in the post-conflict period. In order to reach this objective, the United Nations and the National University of Colombia are organizing forums in Bogota in which citizens, organizations, and political parties can present proposals for their vision on the expansion of political participation. These proposals will be presented to the FARC and the Colombian government. In another important development, the second most important armed group—the National Liberation Army (ELN)—will start its own peace talks in Havana with representatives of the Santos government. These two peace talks will parallel each other and should culminate in a common political agreement combining the two accords. Thus far little is known about the agenda the ELN is proposing, other than some broad ideas such as a constituent assembly, which could introduce a new Magna Carta and socio-economic changes.
As the peace process continues and expands, challenges and threats increase. As I have written on various occasions in this blog and in other publications, there are three important and asymmetrically related players, and without them peace will not be possible in Colombia. In order of importance, the actors include the United States, the U.S.-supported Colombian military, and, finally, the landed elite and its reactionary supporters. Thus far, the United States, as an observer, has not yet expressed solid support for the process. This is significant because U.S. support would imply important changes in its policy toward the militarization of Colombia, its failed war on drugs, and a revision of its Free Trade Agreements that would allow the small peasants and subsistence economy to survive. This is in addition to its overall policy in the Andean sub-region and in Latin America. These are neither easy nor minor adjustments that American imperialism is willing to introduce to accommodate the imperatives of peace in a country torn with a fifty years long civil war. A negotiated peace with the Colombian armed rebels could reveal the inner contradiction between two diametrically opposed interests: the national interest of the Colombian people and those of an imperial power which embodies the interests of finance capital, multinational companies, and a military-industrial-security-drug war complex. This web of interests is threatened if the insurgency succeeds in extracting enough concessions to change the country's political economy and relations with the United States.
The second actor is the behemoth military institution that the United States has been instrumental in indoctrinating, training, and arming since the early 20th century—especially after the introduction of Plan Colombia in 2000. The U.S. strategic objective has been to make this institution an important asset within its regional and global strategy, very similar to the role that the Israeli military assumes in the Middle East and the world. Now, if the United states is hesitant or objects to the nature of the talks, this most likely will encourage the officer corps to pressure the Santos administration not to relent to the rebels' demands. In other words, the United States is omnipresent regardless, and its lukewarm support or resistance will reverberate within Colombia's military, as were the cases during the two previous attempts of peace during the Betancurt's (1982-86) and Pastrana's administrations (1998-2002).
The "saber rattling" that happened weeks ago—when SOUTHCOM Commander John Kelly held a press conference on the threat the FARC poses— only to be followed by the Colombian military, which released the secret coordinates revealing where some FARC commanders were to be picked up in order to join their negotiating team in Havana embarassing the Santos governement. This latter incident did not only echoe the past but constitutes a clear indicator that there are sectors within the military expressing their inconformity with the peace talks. This is consistent with the traditional reactionary forces whose paramount symbol is the former president Alvaro Uribe Velez. These forces include among its ranks the large cattle ranchers, landowning elite, and the narcobourgeoisie. This reactionary reservoir within the military and outside will not hesitate in fighting to derail the negotiations, especially when Washington signals its discontent.
The months ahead are tough ones, stay tuned.
Nazih Richani is the Director of Latin American studies at Kean University. He blogs at nacla.org/blog/cuadernos-colombianos.


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I have my web pages and LS javascript files installed on Apache and LS server running standalone.
When LS server is down, nothing appears or shows as such, it simply never goes to STREAMING mode. I made sure all status change listeners and server/client error listeners were set to display whatever comes, but nada.
I mapped the following LS functions:
lsPage.onClientError = notifyReply;
lsPage.onServerDeny = notifyServerError;
eng.onStatusChange = notifyStatusChange;
eng.onServerError = notifyServerError;
eng.onClientError = notifyReply;
Any idea ?


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TimesMachine launches
After a stutter step back in late February, NY Times releases their slick archive browser, TimesMachine. Here's the announcement from the team that put it together.
TimesMachine is a collection of full-page image scans of the newspaper from 1851-1922 (i.e., the public domain archives). Organized chronologically and navigated by a simple calendar interface, TimesMachine provides a unique way to traverse the historical archives of The New York Times. Topics ranging from the Civil War to the sinking of the Titanic to the first cross-country auto race to women's fashions in the 20s are just a few electronic flips away. And of course, there's the advertisements.
Unfortunately, full access to the archives through TimesMachine is only available to subscribers. (via fimoculous)


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Striking the right balance between technology, innovation and reliability
The demand for specific logistics processes and technologies is greater than ever.
As a leading supplier of health products for patients, care facilities and care professionals, Mediq is continuously seeking out innovative ways of making their clients
A few months ago, Mediq, an international player in the medical devices market, moved into WDP's brand new Fulfilment Centre in Bleiswijk.
On wdp.eu we use strictly necessary and functionality cookies to improve your user experience when visiting this website. Additionally, we place cookies for statistic, social, targeting and commercial purposes. To place these cookies, we ask for your consent. Click for more information.


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I stumbled on Charles Belk's post on his facebook wall. (His is the black man sitting on the curb in the image above) He narrated how he was arrested, detained and denied of his rights by Beverly Hills Police for fitting the description of an armed robber. Read below:
WHEN YOU "FIT THE DESCRIPTION"! – It's one of those things that you hear about, but never think it would happen to you.
On Friday afternoon, August 22nd around 5:20pm, while innocently walking by myself from a restaurant on Wilshire Blvd, to my car up LaCienega Blvd my freedom was taken from me by the Beverly Hills Police Department.
Within seconds, I was detained and told to sit on the curb of the very busy street, during rush hour traffic.
Within minutes, I was surrounded by 6 police cars, handcuffed very tightly, fully searched for weapons, and placed back on the curb.
Within an hour, I was transported to the Beverly Hills Police Headquarters, photographed, finger printed and put under a $100,000 bail and accused of armed bank robbery and accessory to robbery of a Citibank.
Within an evening, I was wrongly arrested, locked up, denied a phone call, denied explanation of charges against me, denied ever being read my rights, denied being able to speak to my lawyer for a lengthy time, and denied being told that my car had been impounded…..All because I was mis-indentified as the wrong "tall, bald head, black male," … "fitting the description."
I get that the Beverly Hills Police Department didn't know at the time that I was a law abiding citizen of the community and that in my 51 years of existence, had never been handcuffed or arrested for any reason. All they saw, was someone fitting the description. Doesn't matter if he's a "Taye Diggs BLACK", a "LL Cool J BLACK", or "a Drake BLACK"
I get that the Beverly Hills Police Department didn't know that I was an award nominated and awarding winning business professional, most recently being recognized by the Los Angeles Business Journal at their Nonprofit & Corporate Citizenship Awards. They didn't need to because, they saw someone fitting the description.
I get that the Beverly Hills Police Department didn't know that I was a well educated American citizen that had received a BS in Electrical Engineering from the University of Southern California, an MBA from Indiana University (including a full Consortium Fellowship to business school) and an Executive Leadership Certificate from Harvard Business School. Hey, I was "tall", "bald", a "male" and "black", so I fit the description.
I get that the Beverly Hills Police Department didn't know that I was a Consultant for the NAACP, a film and tv producer, a previous VP of Marketing for a wireless application company, VP of Integrated Promotions for a marketing agency, ran Community Affairs for the Atlanta Hawks, was the Deputy Director of Olympic Village Operations for the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games, was a Test/Quality/Mfg Engineering Manager for IBM and was a Bond Trader on Wall street. Surely, folks that fit the description wouldn't qualify as any of those.
I get that the Beverly Hills Police Department didn't know that throughout my entire life I have been very active in serving the communities that I have lived in, including Chapter President and National PR Chair for NSBE, a USC Student Senator, a USC Trojan Knight, a USC Engineering Student Council Member, a USC Black Students Council Member, and a Resident Assistant; as well as a founding board member of the RTP NBMBAA, a member of Durham County Transportation Advisory Board, Durham City / County Planning Commission, Atlanta House of Love for the Homeless Board, Cobb County Transportation Advisory Board, Georgia CASA Board, United Way of Greater Atlanta VIP Selection Committee, Jomandi Theater Board, Silver Lake Film Festival Board, Downtown LA Film Festival Board, Chaka Khan Foundation Fundraising Dinner Committee, and the USC Black Alumni Association Board. Nawl, not a "black male", especially a "tall, bald" one.
I get that the Beverly Hills Police Department didn't know that just hours earlier, I was at one of the finest hotels in their city, handling celebrity talent at a Emmy Awards Gifting Suite, as part of business as usual, and, invited to attend a VIP Emmy pre-party that very night in their city. The guy doing that, just DON"T fit the description.
What I don't get………WHAT I DON"T GET, is, why, during the 45 minutes that they had me on the curb, handcuffed in the sun, before they locked me up and took away my civil rights, that they could not simply review the ATM and bank's HD video footage to clearly see that the "tall, bald headed, black male"… did not fit MY description.
Why, at 11:59pm (approximately 6 hours later), was the video footage reviewed only after my request to the Lead Detective for the Beverly Hills Police Department and an FBI Agent to do so, and, after being directly accused by another FBI Special Agent of "…going in and out of the bank several times complaining about the ATM Machine to cause a distraction…" thereby aiding in the armed robbery attempt of a bank that I never heard of, or ever been to; and within 10 minutes……10 MINUTES, my lawyer was told that I was being release because it was clear that it was not me.
The sad thing is, prior to my freedom being taken from me for an easily proven crime I did not commit, I was walking back to my car, by myself, because I needed to check my parking meter, so that I wouldn't get a ticket and break the law. In fact, if it wasn't for a text message that I was responding to, I would have actually been running up LaCienega Blvd when the first Beverly Hills Police Officer approached me. Running!
I want to thank GOD, Robin Lola Harrison of the NAACP Hollywood Bureau, Robert Dowdy and Attorney Jaaye Person-Lynn, without whom, I am certain that I would still be locked up in the custody of the Beverly Hills Police Department. Based on comments made by a Beverly Hills Police Officer during my booking, and an FBI Special Agent, it appeared that they had tried and convicted me.
To everyone, especial black males (regardless of height, hair style or particular shade of "black") – Hari Williams, Michael Marcel, Reginald L Shaw, Shawn Carter Peterson, Devon Libran, Aaron D Spears, Cedric Sanders, Cornelius Smith Jr, Catfish Jean, Ashford Thomas, Drew McCaskill, Carlton Jordan, Jawn Murray, AS Lee, Bertrand L Roberson Sr, Deron Benjamin, Hawk Oau, James Alan Belk, Juhahn Jones, Darryl Dunning II, Darrin Dewitt Henson, Stephen Bishop, Logan Alexander, Michael Moore, Brandon Dmico Anderson, Jon Covington, Lamar Stewart, David Mitchell, Gerald Andre Radford, Gerald Edwin Rush II, Gerald Yates, etal, – I have always stayed as far away from being on the wrong side of the law as much as possible; so please, be careful. If something like this can happen to ME, it can certainly happen to ANYONE!
Time has come for a change in the way OUR law enforcement officers "serve and protect" us.
We all do not, FIT THE DESCRIPTION.


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01 January, 1977
Adapted from Judith Rossner's best-selling novelization of a true story, Richard Brooks's melodrama turns one woman's search for a liberated life into a cautionary tale about promiscuity. After an affair with her college professor, no-longer-good Catholic girl Theresa Dunn (Diane Keaton) follows the lead of her hedonistic sister (Tuesday Weld) and moves out of her oppressive family home to forge a life of her own. A compassionate teacher of deaf children by day, Theresa metamorphoses into a sexually free cruiser of singles bars by night. She prefers the satisfying attentions of unpredictable, danger-tinged stud Tony Lopanto (Richard Gere) to the more noble intentions of social worker James (William Atherton), but she ditches anyone who prevents her from being her own girl. As Theresa's life threatens to spin out of control, she makes a vow to clean up her existence once and for all. But before she makes the break, she goes to one more bar and brings home one more man (Tom Berenger).~ Lucia Bozzola, All Movie Guide


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For the ancient Greeks, the Hyades were daughters of Pleione and Atlas, a giant who carried the heavens on his shoulders. The Hyades had several sisters, such as the Pleiades and the Hesperides. They were very attached to their brother HyasOne day, while Hyas was hunting, he was killed by a lion. The Hyades were so upset that they died of grief.
Zeus was grateful to them because they nursed his son the god Dionysus.
Zeus changed the Hyades into a
cluster of stars and placed them in the constellation of Taurus the Bull.


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It's a make or break game for the Fighting Irish and their national title hopes.
The newly minted best team in the country, Notre Dame Fighting Irish (11-0) will put it all on the line for all the marbles this Saturday as they travel to the West Coast to play rivals USC Trojans (7-4). Kickoff is at 8 PM EST and the game will be broadcast on your local NBC affiliate.
The Fighting Irish blanked The Wake Forest Demon Deacons 38-0 at South Bend last week. USC lost to fellow Californian school UCLA Bruins 28-28 in a high-scoring affair. Notre Dame was at the losing end of a 31-17 meeting with the Trojans in week 6 of last season.
These teams are certainly no strangers. Saturday will mark the 84th meeting between Notre Dame and USC in a rivalry dating back to a historic 1926 game that legendary Fighting Irish coach Knute Rockne claimed was the best game he ever saw. More than 74,559 (the largest crowd to attend a football game in California history) watched Fighting Irish quarterback Art Parisien lead his team to victory on a two-minute scoring drive. Rockne in fact was approached by USC in 1924 to become their head coach.
Notre Dame owns the overall series lead over USC 43-35-5. Each team has gone on hot and cold streaks over the decades. Fighting Irish coach Brian Kelly stopped a recent 8 game USC winning streak 21-16 in 2010. USC has has held upperhand of recent winning 9 of the last 10. Coach Kelly hopes to put and end to the current USC domination over the Fighting Irish to remain undefeated, win a national championship, and to take home the spoils of the venerated jeweled shillelagh awarded to the victor since 1929.
Here's a look at how the No. 1 Notre Dame Fighting Irish and USC Trojans stack up against each other this week
Notre Dame Offense
On a day celebrating seniors last week in South Bend it was the red shirt freshman QB Everett Golson who quietly stole the day. Throwing for a career-best 346 yards along with three touchdowns and one interception, Golson seems to be playing his most mistake-free and confident football as of late.
Senior RB Cierre Wood made the most of his final game at home with 150 yards rushing on 11 carries and a touchdown. Along with fellow RBs George Atkinson III and Theo Riddick the trio averages more than 200 yards a game on the ground.
The Notre Dame passing attack has averaged 219 yards per game this season paced by All-American TE Tyler Eifert (555 yards, 4 TDs, 40 receptions) and WR TJ Jones (40 receptions, 519 yards, 4 TDs). WR John Goodman has been a touchdown specialist for the blue and gold converting his total 6 catches into 3 scores.
The Fighting Irish averages a pedestrian 27.2 points per game sitting at 74th in the nation in this category. It has scored 21 points or less in six contests this season.
Notre Dame Defense
The Fighting Irish defense is the engine that has driven this remarkable team to its first BCS number one ranking this season. They are ranked first nationally in scoring defense, fifth in rushing defense and 11th in passing efficiency. The scary blue and gold defense has only given up 14 plays of 25 yards or longer and for a period of 17 consecutive quarters from September 8th to October 20th it did not allow an offensive touchdown. The front seven led by All-American and Heisman-hopeful Manti Te'o should feast on rookie quarterback Max Wittek this week.
The underrated Fighting Irish secondary features CB Bennett Jackson (4 interceptions) and S Matthias Farley (one interception). The Notre Dame pass defense is respectable at 24th in the nation allowing 195.6 yards per game in the air and .5 touchdowns. They will have their hands full with the best WR tandem in the nation in USC WRs Marquise Lee and Robert Woods,
USC Offense
4th year QB Matt Barkley and preseason Heisman-hopeful has underwhelmed and is now injured and unable to start for the second straight year against the Fighting Irish. This has opened the door for the rookie QB Max Wittek. Hopefully he can play up to his braggadocio after guaranteeing a victory on ESPN radio. Or his teammates can thank him later for lthe Notre Dame locker room fodder. Wittek comes from a high pedigree being an Underarmour All-American who threw for 24 touchdowns and 2,252 yards as a senior in high school..
WR Marquise Lee is the real deal with an NCAA-best 1,605 yards,104 catches and 14 touchdowns. He is a Biletnikoff fand is generally recognized as the best receiver in the nation. Lee is complemented by the tremendous receiver Robert Woods (62 receptions, 721 yards, 10 touchdowns) who last year torched the Fighting Irish 119 yards and two touvhdowns in 2011.
RB Curtis McNeal has steadily performed having rushed for at least 160 yards over the past two games. He shined last year against Irish racking up 118 yards.
USC Defense
The Trojan defense ranks 59th in the country giving up 392.2 yards per game and 24.8 points. They, however, have allowed 40.3 points per game to teams ranked in the AP Top 25.
USC has a fierce pass rush ranked fourth in the nation racking up a total of 42 sacks. Junior DE Morgan Breslin has accounted for 11.5 of the total, 4.5 coming from the last three games. The pass rush should keep Golson on his toes and force him out of the pocket.
Senior Safety T.J. McDonald anchors the Trojan backfield. This season McDonald has collected 84 tackles, 2 interceptions, and one sack. The Senior is expected to be a high draft pick in next year's NFL Draft.
Prediction: Notre Dame 25 USC 20


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(CNN) -- As U.S. forces in Pakistan swooped in on Osama bin Laden on Sunday, at least one Twitter user was unknowingly reporting details of the raid.
Some of the first public accounts of the military operation that killed the terrorist leader came in the form of tweets from Sohaib Athar, a 33-year-old IT consultant in Abbottabad, the city where bin Laden was found.
Web reacts to bin Laden news
But the significance of Athar's posts wouldn't be clear until hours later when users of the social-networking site -- and the rest of the world -- learned of President Barack Obama's plans for a rare, late-night address to announce that bin Laden had been killed.
The first clue from Athar came after 4 p.m. ET Sunday. That was after midnight in Pakistan, but Athar was attentive because he often writes code overnight for American companies and sleeps during the day, he told CNN in an interview.
"Helicopter hovering above Abbottabad at 1AM (is a rare event)," he wrote.
His first reaction? Annoyance at the noise.
"Go away helicopter - before I take out my giant swatter," he wrote.
But soon, it was clear that more was going on than a random flyover. He reported seeing an airplane fly overhead, and later heard a vehicle driving very quickly, he said in an interview.
The ruckus was "not very usual for sleepy little Abbottabad," Athar said in an interview. "People go to sleep at 9 p.m. every night, and they drive very slow because of the hilly terrain."
Athar worried, as most anyone would, that terrorism might be involved.
"A huge window shaking bang here in Abbottabad," Athar wrote on Twitter. "I hope its not the start of something nasty."
He posted an incorrect local media report that a helicopter had crashed, or had been shot down (perhaps jokingly, calling it a UFO) and gave details of military cordoning off areas of the city.
Then, about eight hours after his first tweet, Athar acknowledged that he'd heard what happened.
"I guess I should unsubscribe from the #abbottabad search on twitter before it kills my machine," he wrote. "Leave Abbottabad alone, Osama and Obama."
According to what appears to be Athar's Facebook profile (it also lists him as a consultant and links to a personal website with the same name as his Twitter profile), he graduated from the University of the Punjab in Lahore, Pakistan, in 2001.
He also earned an MBA from Preston University, an online school headquartered in the United States, it says. His public profile page lists his religious views as "Myopic" and political views as "Anarchistic."
By early Monday in the United States, the online deluge for the man who also runs a small coffee shop was just beginning. As his tweets were discovered, the online messages and media requests began.
"Uh oh," Athar wrote. "(N)ow I'm the guy who liveblogged the Osama raid without knowing it."
According to the Twitter statistics tool TwitterCounter, Athar had 751 followers on Saturday. By Monday morning, he had more than 32,000.
CNN and other media outlets reached out to him for interviews. But, by Monday morning U.S. time, he seemed to only want sleep.
"I had been working all night and didn't anticipate that I'd need to stay awake till noon too," he wrote in an e-mail. He also tweeted: "Bin Laden is dead. I didn't kill him. Please let me sleep now."
After those messages and apparently after getting some sleep, CNN reached Athar for an interview Monday afternoon. He has also agreed to talk at length later about his newfound fame.
CNN's Mark Milian and Aliza Kassim contributed to this report.


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Exclusively run by and on behalf of the students of the Institute of Contemporary Music Performance in Kilburn, London, brand new record label Dyne Road Recordings announce the release of their debut EP on June 23rd, the aptly titled Dyne Road Recordings EP I. Featuring four contrasting tracks from four contrasting artists, DRR EP I is a unique project that showcases the bourgeoning talent emerging from within The Institute's four walls. With music on the EP provided by VICE Collective, Naomi Shalom, Frasier Banks and Joseph, this EP is a sonic journey, built entirely upon the students' youthful drive and passion for creating, recording and promoting new music.
Kicking things off with a bit of a punch is the groovy, retro-disco anthem "All I Want", from London-based, six-piece electronic dance outfit, VICE Collective. Like the city that bore them, the band is a melting pot in which genres, styles and cultures fuse, mix and assimilate. Disco, funk, house, industrial – all can be found within their DNA, so it seems simpler to describe their music by what it is designed to do: make you dance.
Following Vice Collective, we are swiftly introduced to Naomi Shalom. From her humble upbringing in South Wales, Naomi was first inspired to write music during her Performing Arts studies in College. Self-taught on the piano, and with no prior songwriting training, Naomi's musical flair has already received recognition and airplay from BBC Radio Wales, and she also reached the semi-finals of the UK Songwriting Competition. Moving to London earlier this year to put down her musical roots, Naomi's honest lyrics and unique folk-pop style has been charming audiences around the capital ever since.
Like Naomi Shalom, the third artist on the EP, Frasier Banks was also raised in a small, sub-rural home in the South Wales valleys, but he had always dreamed of so much more. Seduced by the bright lights of London, Banks escaped to the city as soon as the opportunity arose, determined to make an impact amongst the city's urban-pop culture. A party lover at heart, Frasier's image and character may mirror this passion, but as soon as he sits alone behind the keys to perform, this party-ethos dissipates, as Frasier's musical honesty and talent shines through.
And finally, inspired by rainy days sat in his North London bed sit, listening to his record collection of Curtis Mayfield, Grandmaster Flash and Jeff Buckley, Joseph's songwriting developed from bedsit blues into a brooding soulful folk.
Reminiscent of late 70's Americana, Joseph's music paints images from sunset LA beaches to dark basement clubs of London, where he can be seen playing either solo or accompanied by his band.
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Idles about.
Vocalizations (on-click)
As funny as this sounds, this little nasty will always have a special place in me heart. It was the first rare I ever encountered and captured successfully. Funny how these things stick with you.
I am in Skulk rock hinterlands. I am fighting a (grey) LvL 11 Maggot. My display says it has 94 power and 165 speed with 519 HP.
I don't see it in the breed selector... AM I doing something wrong?
In the Howling Fjord, in Halgrind (check the 'Location' map) they spawn in 3 different spots around the little pond. They spawn in groups of ~4-6 and it doesn't take long for them to respawn once they've been cleared, maybe a minute or two. They can spawn as critters or battle pets so just wipe the critter group with aoe. Didn't take long to get a rare and it's at least level 19 when you capture it.
First one I found was a rare @ 4:30pm realm. 21.73, 38.46
Demon Fall Canyon in Ashenvale is a very good place for Maggots. They re-spawn quickly and I got my rare after about 45 minutes as a primary when battled.
Fire Scar Shrine in Ashenvale has a ton of these guys.
They are also found in Undercity among the rats and roaches.
Was found with a forest moth.


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Review of the Urbana Bicycle
"A2Bism" — a term coined by Mikael Colville-Anderson of Copenhagenize — is the idea that bikes for transportation is such an everyday concept that you don't even think of it.
Think about your everyday car use — you don't suit up in special clothes or worry about the route you'll take. You hop in your car and go. This is the philosophy behind some current cycling advocacy which promotes cycling as an everyday, utilitarian mode of transportation. You don't suit up in special clothes — you just hop on the bike and go.
When Paul Harris of Canadian bike distributor KMI tried "A to B" bikes for the utility market at Interbike a few years ago, however, he thought the bikes all missed an important component: fun. He got together with experienced bike designer, dedicated urban commuter and mountain biker Jerome Roy to create an A to B machine that's fun to ride, and the result is the Urbana Bicycle.
Utility features
I've previously mentioned some of the utility features on the Urbana: monstrous 2.6 inch tires eat Montreal's potholes for lunch and dinner. The rack (120 lb capacity!) can hold and carry anything. For the dedicated commuter, build options include internal gear hub, kickstand, fender, rack, and chainguard for a true "hop on and go" utility bike.
The Rack
First, let's talk about the Urbana "RNR", which means 'Reinforced Rack.' This rock solid platform with 120 lb load capacity is amazing. Metal hooks provide handy mount points to wrap grocery bags. With a little ingenuity, the RNR can give longtail cargo bikes a run for their money. You can carry a nice load of groceries with this rack's hook setup. Longtail cargo bikes are prohibited from my region's rail commuter lines, but the short wheelbase means I can push this bike right onto the train.
I bolted a big plastic bin onto the rack and loaded it up with 50 pounds of car camping gear for a family trip. Besides the extra effort required to start and go uphill, the laden bike handled great for the four mile trip to the campsite.
On the return trip, my daughter and I took a scenic route that involved a two mile detour on sandy fire roads through the state park. My daughter wasn't confident bombing downhill on rutted trails and wanted to walk down, so I strapped her 30 pound bike to the top of camping gear, resulting in a nice Jethro Clampett style pile towering over my head. In spite of the water bars, ruts, and roots across my way, there were no scary creaks or groans coming from the rear of the bike. I felt absolutely confident navigating this fully loaded bike over hill and dale and along the dusty trail. I wish I stopped to take a photo of this getup, but perhaps later I'll reproduce this feat. (I later broke my plastic bin through circumstances that had nothing to do with the bike.
I hope to have video of this soon, but I've discovered the Urbana bike and RNR are sturdy enough to surf on!
The Urbana bike's geometry with its slack headtube angle results in a lot of trail, resulting in interesting handling characteristics. When I lean the bike up against a wall, the front wheel flops around and the entire bike falls over; you may want the kickstand to prevent this. It takes a little more effort than usual to ride this bike no-handed, in spite of the wide tires. I'm not normally able to roll backwards for any distance on a bike, but on the Urbana it's almost easy.
Step through frames wobble because they lack a top tube; not so with the Urbana, though, with its ultra beefy frame and bottom bracket providing exceptional torsional stiffness. The Urbana is by far the stiffest U frame bike I've pedaled, and it handles hills, stairs, tree limbs, curbs, and the occasional unruly motorist with aplomb. No name 36 spoke wheels (Quando front hub; Shimano Nexus 8 speed redband rear hub) have stayed true and round through this abuse as well.
Some people don't care for Shimano's roller brakes, but I found the Nexave roller brake coupled with Avid 5 mechanical disc brakes to work more than adequately through the Santa Cruz Mountains, even with the heavy camping load I hauled.
In the brake photo, you might also notice dropout hanger for the 8 speed hub. Mounts are also available for derailleur and singlespeed setups. V Brake mounts are also available for the rear wheel, though you need six inch brake arms to clear the monster tire and fender; I don't know that length is available.
SKS P65 fenders cover front and rear tire, with clever cutting and stay bends needed to mount them with disc brakes and the unique frame design. My pants and backside stays dry with these fenders in light California mist, but the extreme fork angle means the front coverage isn't quite there, and that fat front tire flings a good quantity of water forward and up, which then flies right into my face. I had to slow down to see where I went in the rain.
And oh, what wonderful tires. The 2.6″ Nid de Poule tires are made specifically for Urbana and are designed to soak up the bumps of Montreal's crumbling streets. I wrote about them before, noting their ability to float on beach stand. The only real drawback — the bike racks mounted on my local buses are too narrow to accommodate these tires! Some transit systems use larger racks, however, so your mileage may vary.
Shimano's 8 speed Nexus "Red Band" hub is wonderful. The premium Red Band hubs feature improved bearings and lighter weight. Shifting with the Shimano Nexus grip shifter is smooth, quiet and quick.
My wife normally rides a Breezer Villager and fits the 'slow cyclist' paradigm of low effort A2Bism. Superficially, the Villager's utility features — U frame, internal hub gearing, fenders, rack — matches the Urbana, but she loves the Urbana review unit. The bike itself turns heads, and it's not just because my wife normally cycles in a skirt. She and I both have received a lot of good comments from strangers, non-cyclists, and fellow bike nerds in Santa Cruz, who all wonder where this bike is from.
I normally don't write more than a couple of posts on a specific bike, but there's so much about the Urbana. It's an easy bike to love. Somebody could probably create a blog just on hacks for that wonderful RNR rack.
The Urbana works well as an A to B utility bike, but Jerome Roy succeeded in designing in the 'fun' component. The extra wide tires and 42-pound weight of this bike means you're not going to break any speed records, but taking it easy is simple to do with the Urbana, whether you take it down the block to the coffee shop or 20 miles on a Bike Party ride. The Urbana is the best errand getter bike I've tried.
The Canadian Urbana is not quite yet available in the United States, but Urbana is working to develop their USA dealer network. Right now, you can buy Urbana from bike shops in Montreal, Toronto, Thunder Bay, Winnipeg, and Vancouver. Read Urbana Bikes on Facebook for user reviews of the bike.


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There are lots of background details to the dispute in this local news story. Prior to voting to withdraw from the governance structure of the Diocese and of ECUSA, the parishioners adopted a Declaration which encapsulates the quintessential reasons for making such a resolve. There are more background details and links to documents in this article, as well.
As and when the court documents for the lawsuit become available, I shall put up further posts.
Back to: A Guide to This Site


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Ahead of Oscars weekend, a gold-painted statue depicting Kanye West as Christ on the cross popped up for a short time Wednesday in Hollywood.
The life-sized crucifixion statue titled "False Idol" depicts the rapper as Jesus Christ, with nails in his hands, wearing a crown of thorns, gold chains, a cloth and Yeezy sneakers.
The provocative work of art is by Plastic Jesus, a Los Angeles-based street artist who is known for his political and cultural art.
The Academy Awards honors the best in film every year and is often a time of celebration for Hollywood's elite.
But, Plastic Jesus told NBC4 his art "focuses on the side of Hollywood that's often forgotten" and touches on topics such as drug abuse, mental health and idolatry.
Celebrities are often elevated and treated like "God-like figures," Plastic Jesus said. And, when they [celebrities] do show their humanity "we then crucify them."
The artist referenced West's "brilliance" as a musician and West's recent hospitalization after abruptly canceling the remaining dates of his Saint Pablo tour.
Top news of the day
While this year's work focuses on the public's obsession with celebrity, Plastic Jesus has touched on other topics during Oscar week in years past.
Previous installations include a life-size Oscar statue snorting cocaine on all fours in 2015 and an Oscar statuette working a stripper pole in 2016.
For those who missed the Kanye statue at the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and La Brea Avenue, the piece will be on display Saturday at "Anesthesia: The Art of Oblivion."


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Genres: Highlander Hotness, Historical Fiction, Historical Romance
Love with a Scottish Outlaw
Highland Weddings #3
By: Gayle Callen
Catriona Duff can't remember who she is. Discovered in the midst of a raging thunderstorm, she has no recollection of how she came to be there or how the guards around her ended up dead. She certainly doesn't remember that the handsome Highlander who saves her is her family's sworn enemy. All she does know? She's starting to fall in love with him.
Duncan Carlyle couldn't believe his luck when he found Catriona, the daughter of the man who made him an outlaw and forced him from his ancestral home, stranded on the road with nothing to her name–including her memory. Speaking out against Aberfoyle's evil practices of stealing poor and orphaned children to sell to the highest bidder has cost him everything, but now he has the opportunity to make the man understand the true price of a missing child. But as Duncan begins to know Cat, guilt over his actions wars with his irrepressible desire for her.
When Cat discovers the truth of her identity, she decides she can teach the outlawed clan chief a lesson, but in love, there's more than one way to win.
Duncan lifted the woman's upper body into his left arm, cradling her head so that he blocked the rain. He probed near her wound gingerly with his right hand, and she frowned and weakly tried to turn away.
His wariness deepened. There was something about her, a familiarity that echoed inside his head but refused to take shape.
"Where am I?" she whispered, her accent English. "What happened?"
An English lady in the Highlands? He chose to answer the second question rather than the first. "Ye've a nasty wound to your head, mistress. Did ye fall?"
She blinked as if she might lose consciousness. "Where am I? What happened?"
Now it was his turn to blink, but he remembered that wounds of the head could cause confusion. He knew he had to stop the blood loss.
"Mistress, can ye stand?"
She opened those eyes again, large and golden, in a delicate face. Her dark hair streamed back from her forehead, her hairline coming to a peak.
He recognized her, a flash of memory from Stirling several years ago, when he'd glared his hatred at the Earl of Aberfoyle, a haughty old man on horseback, forcing aside a poor lass heavy with child to make way for him. The earl's family was seldom in Scotland, so their arrival in the Highlands had caused a stir. Duncan had seen this woman riding just behind, wearing the fine gown and jaunty hat that marked her a noble lady. At least she'd looked distressed at her father's actions.
Catriona Duff was the daughter of Aberfoyle, the chief of the Clan Duff and Duncan's bitter enemy. Aberfoyle was one of the main reasons that Duncan was an outlaw who had to protect and feed his people while on the run.
He lifted his head and looked about, as if the earl and his entire retinue were somewhere nearby, waiting to attack him. "Where are your men?" he demanded.
"What happened?" she asked weakly.
"Ye've hit your head. Where are your men?"
Her hand fluttered toward her forehead, but he didn't allow her to touch the wound.
A spasm of pain narrowed her eyes. "I found them . . . dead," she whispered. "What happened to me?"
"I don't know." Six weeks after almost being captured, he was still wary of anything unusual in his part of the Highlands. Dead men would prove her story true, but he couldn't deal with them now.
"I—I can't remember—I can't remember anything!" Though her cry was feeble, it was full of helplessness and fear.
"Ye don't remember the accident?"
"Not . . . the accident, not even . . . my name."
He frowned down at her, wondering at what intrigue she was playing—or what her father had set in motion. He wouldn't put it past the bastard.
She clutched his plaid. "What happened to me?" she cried in despair.
"I do not ken. I must clean that wound. Can ye stand? I can pull ye up on my horse."
He rose, lifting her up with him until she could clutch the saddle for support. After mounting, he reached down for her. He would have preferred she ride astride behind him, but she seemed so weak that he ended up cradling her across his thighs. She leaned into him, her head lolling onto his chest, her blood staining his black, red, and yellow plaid.
It didn't take long to reach the rocky overhang he'd used for shelter several other times. Once out of the rain, he searched his saddle pack but found nothing that would do for a clean bandage. He ended up cutting several strips from the end of his shirt with his dirk. The wound seemed clean enough after all the rain, so he wrapped the improvised bandages around her head and hoped they stopped the bleeding.
She looked at him helplessly the whole time, and he felt like she was memorizing his features. He studied her, too. Her high cheekbones emphasized the hollows beneath, and her full lips hinted at an expressive mouth. Her pale face was as remote and beautiful as a statue, making her appeal to him on a primitive level that he would never acknowledge.
Why was she in the remote Highlands? According to gossip he'd heard long ago, she rarely visited her father's castles. Was she the advance of a larger party headed right for Duncan's unsuspecting people? She was so close to his hidden encampment. If he let her go, she could bring men to hunt the area, risking his people—risking the good he was trying to do. He couldn't release her until he knew all the facts.
If you had to title your own life what would it be and why?
"Lucky in Love." I met my husband a year before we started dating, but once we dated, we married within six months. And I knew that first month that I was in love with him. So any time someone uses love at first sight in a romance novel, I think it could be true, because it happened to me. And we've been married 35 years, so it can work!
What is your favorite place to visit?
It may sound cliché for a historical romance author, but I love England. I've visited three times now, and every time I see a different part of the country, I fall in love all over again. Last time, I visited my daughter who was studying for her semester abroad in London. The two of us rented a car and drove north—on the left side of the road!—all the way to Yorkshire. The countryside changes so much, from thatched roofs and abundant gardens, to bleak moors that roll to the horizon. Incredible!
Favorite writing place.
Even though I've written most of my books from a small office on the lower level of my house, my favorite place to write is on my patio. I spent all last summer working outside 4-6 hours every day. My yard is mostly trees, but I have an umbrella to sit beneath when the sun is overhead. I planted begonias and impatiens, which do well in the shade. I put up my feet up, my laptop on a lap desk, and I write, listening to the sound of the bees, the birds, and distant lawn mowers. My neighbor has several bird feeders that spill seeds onto the ground, so sometimes birds, squirrels, bunnies, and chipmunks are all cavorting in the grass together, like my own private show. It's so peaceful!
What are 5 things you must have with you when you write?
Ooh, interesting question. I don't think I'm superstitious about anything in particular, but there are some constants when I'm writing a book. A laptop is number one—a desktop computer can't easily be moved, so I've used a laptop for years so I can set it aside to research, spread out my index cards, etc. And I want to be able to take it with me, too! Next, I always have ice water in a big insulated mug. I have index cards, because that's how I keep track of all my scenes. I use a purple pen to write on them. And lastly, markers, because I highlight a corner of each index card to keep track of all my plotlines when I lay the cards out: purple for the heroine's emotional growth, blue for the hero, pink for the romance plot, then green/orange/red for the various plotlines in the book. Yes, I love to organize and plot things out.
Can you tell us a little about your book?
I was so excited to write LOVE WITH A SCOTTISH OUTLAW, mainly because I finally found a story to fit a plot I'd always wanted to write: amnesia. I opened the book with the heroine, Catriona, waking up in the Scottish Highlands, her head bleeding, not knowing who she is. It was such fun to write! The hero Duncan is the chief of an outlawed clan—and he knows exactly who she is, the daughter of his enemy. While Catriona thinks he is being kind enough to house her while she discovers who she is, Duncan is really holding her captive. And of course, the sparks fly!
After a detour through fitness instructing and computer programming, Gayle Callen found the life she'd always dreamed of as a romance writer. This USA Today bestselling author has written more than twenty historical romances for Avon Books, and her novels have won the Holt Medallion, the Laurel Wreath Award, the Booksellers' Best Award, and been translated into eleven different languages. The mother of three grown children, an avid crafter, singer, and outdoor enthusiast, Gayle lives in Central New York with her dog Uma and her husband, Jim the Romance Hero. She also writes contemporary romances as Emma Cane. Discover more at her website.
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