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First Part: When everyone around you goes away…
When I was a boy there was a time, when my parents were still alive, that we would always make it for a walk. The day would eventually end and we would all take a stroll as a family in the evenings. In the times before the Opening Crisis occurred and everyone I cared about was swept away to be killed in the matter of a day. "The Opening" is what the local papers called the Bleed the first time it happened on our world. The Bleed is the most feared representation our universe can dredge up of the most basic of words: horror.
Anacranon had no sort of military being a colony moon of a bigger planet. When we were hit no one was prepared, nor had the slightest idea of how to proceed. Suddenly things that you could never imagine manifested out of thin air, or in space. Huge things and man sized things that I could only identify as monsters when I was a child. Eating, ravaging, destroying the people, the environment, even each other. These monster things were relentless and gorged forever.
When it came time to leave on my father's ship we had gathered precious little for the trip. Basic amenities, and almost nothing else. Imagine taking off from a planet that has just been introduced to Hell. The Bleed looks different depending on where it takes place. On Anacranon it was blue portals shining for a moment, brief enough for the profile of a demon to walk through the light, and then the blue would fade from sight leaving an abomination in it's wake. The blue shimmer was beautiful the first time it appeared. Then, when the news of the monsters that came with it hit the streets, everyone was trying to get off world – post haste. To avoid being eaten.
That trip off the moon really opened my eyes as a child. The space corps from the neighboring planet had taken wind to Anacranon's troubles and they had arrived to help us. No, to save us. That was the day I got to see my first mecha! A sleek jet craft that could transform into a giant mechanized humanoid. It swooped by us transforming midair. From a jet to a bot, its movement was precise and beautiful. The pilot of that craft helped to destroy a cluster of debris which would have prevented another ship's escape. Rescuing untold amounts of lives.
That was the day. The day I decided I not only wanted to save people the way that pilot had, but that I wanted to be a pilot in the planetary defense leagues. Keeping the space lanes safe from the wakes of the Bleed. If I could just get bigger and learn how to mech-jockey, then I could go anywhere. Do anything.
Thinking a long winded thought to myself I'd lost track of the environment. My dreams were quickly un-faceted as something ripped a hole in the hull and caused a blackout aboard the ship. Suddenly yellow caution lights lulled in rotating beacons across the ceiling. Mom commed me to get a suit and get ready for zero-g, something I'd only ever simulated. Then the caution lights turned to danger lights, the yellow brimming off to a heated red glow. Someone had tripped the danger alert, used in the most unusual of situations.
I made my way to the locker banks and retrieved a suit. Zipped up and slipped on the helmet, then started walking to the bridge. A sensible option, till I opened the door to a connecting hallway to find my father laying in a pool of his own blood. His entrails were lying about in piles and something with dissimilar foot prints had made its way out of his puddles to the door at the end of the hall.
I think to myself that my father deserved better, but that if I wanted to save my mother and younger sister I would have to act quickly. I retrieved the stun baton at my fathers waste, whilst reaching across his face to shut off his piercing gaze. Leaping up to head to the door the comm went off again.
"Kym! Oh. Kym? I'm dying. One of those things is here! Ahh! It's! It's killlling meeee…"
Nothing more came from the mic. My mother's voice went silent. I reached for a wall comm to help locate Gena.
Reaching out hoarsely, "Gena, it's Kym. Tell me where you are."
The mic on the wall did nothing for a moment. Then a red light went green, a signal that overrides other mics at the point of the person using theirs aboard the ship. A hope that I might save her.
"Kym? I'm in the bunks. Hiding. I've locked the room so the air can't get out. I heard mom. Oh god."
Inquiring anything, "Stay there. Are you suited?"
"No. I ran in here as soon as the caution lights went off. I'll look around. See if I can find something that fits."
"I'll get your suit from the racks," I concluded desperately, "then I'm coming for you. Don't open unless I knock."
The sound in the room faded suddenly and the mic became useless. The doors had opened, all of them it appeared. Sucking the beloved air from the ship and leaving me in dead vacuum. Someone had tripped the all door open codes. Only my father and mother knew those codes. What could be happening? Thinking about it started to slow me down, so I sprinted into a flying crawl. Thrusting down the corridor I came eventually to the personal lockers again and located Gena's gear. Rotating around towards another corridor I bolted forward with a kick off the wall.
It took a few minutes to get to the bunk after retrieving the suit, but I felt as if I hadn't wasted any time. Yet I had. The lock on the door to her room was busted. As I approached the sensor opened the door for me. Then it happened, my meeting with a baby kaiju in the making: "Grozorloth the Taker." As I would come to know him. He had a funny ability, and as he grew it only became more dangerous. Had I known I would have done a better job at our first meeting of trying to kill him.
Grozorloth was a parasitic kaiju, one that as it grew could potentially host larger subjects. He fancied calling himself "The Taker," because he could forcibly take over his subjects and use them like dolls at his whim. Once he was finished with a body, he would violently leave it through whatever genitals it had to die bleeding. This I learned as I came into contact with Gena, but it wasn't her. She turned to me after the room's doors slid shut.
"I know you brother. I have all her memories now. Your mother's. Your sister's. Your father was simply delicious. I know you," Grozoloth's voice sounded like a terrible rendition of a digital remaster, which added to the terror of his having grasped Gena by the spine and inserted himself through her ears, and lower body. She wasn't dead yet, but she was completely subservient, and there I was helpless.
"I will return one day, maybe tomorrow. I grow tired and must leave now, but I will never forget the things I have seen here today. I will most certainly be thinking of you while I'm gone. Kymbalt Jartiss," all this coming from my sister's mouth, in an amplified way that was completely inhuman.
I watched as the slug monster detached itself from my younger sister. Blood spilled out from between her legs and the little kaiju was like a slimy landed octopus for a moment as Gena fell back onto the ground and writhed in pain. The octopoid pointed a tentacle at me and as he did a blue aura grew around him. His slimy tentacle curled into a fist and it waved it around like a club.
I ran at the sluggish alien preparing for the mightiest of swings. It's taunts were ceaseless as the blue aura dimmed him from sight. Just in time for my blow to miss and strike nothing but thin air. I dropped the baton as I drew in breathe to tide the rise of adrenaline surging through me. Looking around I found Gena. I went to her.
"Kym," she reached out to grab me by the collar, the signs of pain etched into jagged features on her face.
"Gena. Don't speak. I'm going to get you out of here. Just hold on."
"Kym. I'm scared. Just hold me like mom and dad used too. I can't stand. Oh, Kym. I thought we'd make it out. I'm happy for you though," she sputtered up blood into her cupped hands.
"No. Gena. Please. Hang on."
She didn't last and I rocked her to sleep there in the cold quarters. She went limp after that cough and then slowly the warmth left her body. I wrapped her in a sheet and tried as steadily as possible to leave the room. Aching with stress I cried my way to the bridge. Covered fathers body with a tie down tarp, and mothers with a floating jacket. Engaging the autopilot for a nearby space station unaffected by the Bleed I traversed out into space for thousands of miles plus.
I didn't bother trying to figure out what to do with their corpses. I left them all where they were and timed a cryo-tube to sleep me the rest of the way. I felt the drain of my family gone, and the social spaces they lived empty. Who would look after me now? What would I do? Would I ever meet Grozorloth again? Why did this happen? I hope none of this was my fault. I hope I could have prevented some of this. I hope I don't have nightmares the whole way there.
/END First Part
Second Part: GrownupLite
Years later when I'd aged and become the planetary standard of a legal man, age sixteen, I did my best to join the corps. But I could never make the cut. The military never let me join them, even though I had the fight in me to prove it. Adjustment to my adult life took a terrible plunge as the learning curve turned out to be steeper than what I thought I was bargaining for.
Broke, jobless, and without aim after the corp refused me I kinda went where the wind took me. Got into visiting bars and meeting people that had all sorts of interesting tales. Some had been in situations like mine, with the Bleed. Only they had seen kaiju so colossal that they could level a building with one of their feet.
Through the learning and the traveling I came across women and gamblers, cheaters and liars, and people from all over the verse. It wasn't until I met the master pilot Grace "the Harlequin," that life really changed. She knew all the tricks to mecha, and she knew lots of pilots. And she knew how to help me get what I wanted.
Grace could levy a bar of drinkers with tales of bewilderment. About flying through multi-headed beasts, and tumbling with creatures made out of rock, evading attacks from spewing acid, or plasma. She had been through a lot, lost a lot of friends. A lot of family.
After catching several of her stories in different bars, and completely overwhelmed by her experiences, I decided to tail her for more info. Becoming a mech-jockey couldn't be an easy trade to pickup so I really needed a master to teach me from the bottom up. Before she was about to hitch on a taxi from the bar one night I gave her shoulder a yank and plied her with introductory banter.
"Harlequin, I've heard your stories and I want to jockey! I want to kill monsters and protect people. Teach me and I'll follow you as an apprentice wherever you go. I won't get in the way and I won't get into trouble. Name's Kym. Would you teach me to jockey? Please?"
"Hah, Grace. And I appreciate the enthusiasm, but a mech seat is no place for a kid. If you come down to the docks you can look around, but your way too young. Go find a girl. Make a family and be happy before the Bleed pours out on top of you."
"I don't have a family. Demons and monsters took care of all that. Anacranon four years ago. Blue bleed. Super savage on the ground. Got out on my family's boat, but one of those things got on board or was waiting on board. Killed everyone. Fucker could talk and plot revenge and everything. Even told me he would think about me."
"A talking kaiju? Hah, don't insult my intelligence."
"I'm not. I'm just telling you what happened. You don't have to believe me."
Grace stopped getting into the taxi totally taken aback. Why would some kid make up a crazy ass story like that just to impress her? She leaned in to talk.
"If your telling me the truth, be down at the bay doors at six tomorrow morning. I'll make sure Larry let's you in. You can help me grease some parts."
My jaw sort of dropped, "really?"
"Yes. If your serious, be there at six. I won't come to answer the door and Larry never hears the doorbell being hard at work after he gets in."
"Thanks! I'll be the best at it! You won't regret it! I owe you!"
"You owe you kid. You owe your family some demon blood for theirs. It's why I do it," with a cold hard stare she got into the cab and was off.
I didn't bother trying to sleep. The idea of working around mecha and pilots had me all jacked up on a level I'd never been on before. For the first time ever I was going to get to touch mechs, possibly even get into a cockpit. I couldn't wait. I watched the clock and left hours before I should. I waited at the mech docks until a man showed.
"Larry?" I opened up, "Grace said you'd let me in. Shes going to meet me here."
"Oh?" replied Larry, "Well that's just great. We could use some more folks around here. This way-station is thinning out too quick for me. All the pilots have left for action planets and places in space. You know the Bleed has been worse than ever this year."
I nodded knowing all to well about the Bleed. Having been apart of one first hand it wasn't hard to recount that we were invaded by aliens and dined upon like meat pops for a day. The horrors replayed in my mind in a flash. Filled to the brink with utter loss I bent over and breathed it out. Someone slapped me on the back suddenly and I looked up into Grace's grey eyes.
"C'mon cadet. Lots to do today," and she turned on her heel to march inside while Larry held the door open staring at me.
"Hey kid," Larry asked, "should I get a doctor?"
"I got it. I'm here for a purpose. I'm gonna be a pilot."
"Don't let anyone tell you otherwise," he said while tapping the side of his skull to a dull thudding. Half his head was a steel plate.
"What happened to you?"
"Mech battle. Kaiju got under my arms and lifted my pod off the ground. We were outnumbered. Things were going bad when our big hitter got taken out. We tried to get them off him, but the damned monsters are just stubborn as all hell. When my pod hit the dirt I knew it was over for my mech, so I ejected onto a flat lateral and crashed into a kaiju, blowing it wide open. Never thought ejection seats could do that. Anyway, once I landed again I had to hoof it outta there. When your up high in your chariot, riding a nuclear engine around like its a toy, you forget about all the little fellas running around at your feet. Especially since squashin gets to be second nature in a cockpit. Well, one got a hold of me and jacked me up good. Had to kill it with my bare hands, but it left me crippled. Another pilot rescued me and we lost the mission. Kept my life though. I don't jockey anymore," he concluded, "just help work in the bays."
"You saw lots of combat then?"
"Was a lancer in the corps at one point. Once I lost my lance mates, my mech, and part of my brain I decided to reevaluate my life choices. Left the corps to run my talents for high bidders, not the highest mind you. Some of those corporate jockeys are straight scum, so working under them would have been the pits. That's how I came across Grace here. The Harlequin has run with legends. She's lost a lot of good pilots in the field, so don't take it personally if shes hard on you. She just doesn't want to see you go up in flames. Literally. Don't let her get too far ahead of you now," he pointed off in her direction, "You can get lost real easy in here."
I took his advice and caught up to Grace. She'd already skipped several bay doors, the largest it seemed. Not skipping a beat I opened up more questions.
"So," while catching my breath, "what are we starting on?"
"I'm going to show you the rabbit."
"A rabbit," I retorted with caution.
"Not just any. A special one. You'll see."
She paced as if she were in a hurry. I kept up, but in awe at what I was seeing passing every bay that I had trouble keeping my thoughts in order. Mecha. Tons of them. It was a park-lot or something. There was a giant mech parked in every bay. The bay seemed to be shrinking, but so did the mechs. The variety was endless, from the weapons mounted on them, to the shapes they took. Mecha that could fly, tunnel, and swim. Mecha that could withstand extreme pressures, mecha with prolonged exposure rates to the purest of natural elements and even mecha that could transform.
She led me into one of the smallest bays. Where a form of mecha that I'd never seen up close were waiting in rows. Ten of them, old dusty things that looked like they hadn't been used in a long time.
"Exosuits," she exclaimed, "We'll be learning the basics on one these today. Yours is here. The Rabbit."
She led me past the largest of the suits. When we came to a smaller one with old grayish blue trim and original steel exterior showing I knew I had met my first mecha. It waited there like it was inviting me to it. I wiped the gloss of cobwebs away to reveal a shining seat.
"Step into the straps and buckle in," she commanded.
After buckling in I adjusted myself to the seat. The suit was like a little pod with a skeletal body you could reach out through. I put my hands onto the short control pads. There was a power button. I jammed it. A jolt riveted though the body of the suit and a light hum invited a smile to my face. For the first time in my life, even though it was a lowly exosuit without an armament, I felt like a complete badass.
"Okay," Grace instructed, "so that's the throttle there. You steer and engage the moving mechanisms with your right hand, while essential skills and tasks are on your left pad. Your legs respond to the strap pressure so just start walking."
As I started to walk I could feel the machine resisting almost to my intentions. Like the machine was alive and knew it was getting used, but it didn't want to be. I learned the basics of movement that day and how to engage with simple tasks such as squatting and lifting. I knew the hardest was yet to come.
In the few days that I learned to maneuver in the machine I was also instructed as to how to load pallets of missiles. Carefully stacking the missiles in rows was the hard part at first, then adjusting the next pallet became a pain, then stacking the next level became harder. The process was learning and I painfully gained my first lessons as a peon in a nuclear powered exosuit. I knew I could only rise from here. I was right.
It took about a month for Grace to finally put me on a simulator in the farthest reaches of the mecha-bays. A few modules still worked out of the twenty or so that huddled in the dark like a group of kneeling camels. Climbing into one and engaging the computer systems I could tell the modules hadn't been updated in years. The green and blue hues that made up the simple graphics in the pods were almost comical, however adjusting to the system and actually using it took an ace.
Grace trained me for weeks before I could even get things working to a point where I thought I had a clue. Commanding the cockpit of the simulator seemed hard enough, so I had trouble thinking about what a real mech seat was like. It was no simple task adjusting, but I wanted it and I made myself do it.
Within six months I was passing tests and warming up payloads for all sorts of different weapon systems. I could park up to a 60 tonner, and had walked everything smaller than that through the bays. For the sixty plus tonners Harlequin said I needed to wait till I earned some stripes on my smaller mecha. Said I needed to prove myself in the field even before considering sitting in one of the heavy, or even assault class mechs.
I waited patiently for my day of ass kicking, and made every day count towards me by systematically learning as much as I could about every single mecha type in the bay. My patience was rewarded, as one day I found I possessed a power far greater than I expected to find in myself. It happened while I was training weapon systems in the classiest 35 tonner on the lot, a Brood Industries Umbra. A sickness started to grow inside of me as I was working, not nausea at first, but a slight unease about the day.
The Umbra had the running power of a MagnaMan, the Quick Current's lightest, basically a few steps up from an exosuit being at 15 tons. Theres nothing worthy to jockey that could stand up to anything between the exosuits and a mech about 15 tons, except tanks and they are breed unto themselves. The Umbra could kick it in a tight situation and it was low to the ground, which made her hard target. She was a little wide in the hips, but this allowed her to carry a couple extra body mounted lasers and a few hidden shoulder missile racks. She was quite primo, having her forearms chiseled in laser weaponry. She basically only ran out of missiles. I called her "Mel."
I had worked with Mel the most and all day today. Even though some of the heavier mechs had their qualities, none could boast the Umbra's speed matched with her payload. So naturally I gravitated towards her because she held such sexy qualities, and that is probably not a bad thing to consider when dealing with mecha. I bet a lot of people would feel the same way had they seen the line up. My feelings of unease started to churn into a different perspective suddenly. Like a switch had been flipped inside me and it was going on overdrive.
Suddenly I see old Larry through the view plate on the ground below waving a stained rag through the air. I engaged the cockpit cameras to view him and had him on eight separate little screens, when I opened the loudspeaker, "Yeah?" I tried not to make it loud but my voice was amplified by an unknown amount of decibels.
Larry covered his ears for a moment, then began pointing towards the bay doors, down the long line of pod bays. He then ran out of sight. Having Mel warmed up I pulled her out of her bay and swing her right towards the doors, which would have to be a quarter mile away or so. Then I was dumbstruck. The sky was a deep crimson vortex reaching off into the horizon, chain lightning hurtled through it at alarming rates, and you could see stars and suns like they were on the edge of space. I could see vivid detail from this far back inside the hangar. Engaging the throttle I took off towards the open bay doors.
As I arrived at the mouth of the main bay doors a jeep pulled in. Men in mecha gear, jumped out and started running to respected bays whilst lacing jackets and strapping helmets. I wasn't sure what exactly was happening because I'd never seen it on this level before. The Bleed was affecting this sector of space again, and on a more terrifying level than before. The sense that triggered inside me suddenly heat peak levels. The sky started to pour. What started falling that looked like it was in space quickly nestled into the tow of the planet's gravity and came hurtling down through the thin layers of clouds to burst onto the surface below. Not just a few monsters mind you. Hundreds of thousands of the bastards. Most died once they fell through space and collided with the ground.
My comm went off as a burly 85 ton Marvel Class Vindicator stepped up next to me, "Why aren't you at least trying to burn them up before they hit the ground?"
"What?" I responded back, "What do you mean?"
"Those neighborhoods south of here. We need to make sure they aren't getting pelted. My name is Commander Om, who are you?"
"I'm Kymbalt Jartiss, I work under Harlequin."
"Damn, the new kid? Where the fuck is she? Bleedin right on top of us and the Harlequin's out for lunch. Oh joy. Look kid, I know you haven't had much on real weapons training, but I give you permission to open up the links and figure it out. Harlequin said your half a decent shot on the simulators, so just keep using those laser cannons on your Umbra and everything should work out. I'm going to that neighborhood south of here. Do what you want."
His Vindicator stepped out onto the asphalt lot and high powered it into the highest gear, taking the mech off into the distance. A few other mecha left the bay in separate directions answering distress calls. My comm came on in my face suddenly. It was Larry.
"Kym! Listen! I just got a call from Grace. She's a few miles away but a Kaiju has landed nearby and it's brought with it some other form of a Kaiju, some kind of blob that rapidly grow and then explodes into corrosive material around the vicinity.They can level a town with one, imagine what they'll do to the planet! We need Grace. I'm uploading her coordinates to you! You must retrieve her! At all costs!"
"What…oh? Shit. Me? Uh," shaking my head with doubt, "Yeah. Yeah! I can do it."
"You can save a lot of lives today Kym," Larry reinforced, "you can make a difference out there, but only of you move your ass. NOW!"
My brows curled down furling to intent. Stomping my foot down on an accelerator Mel and I made our way out of the bay. The sky was pitch black now, except for occasional bolts of lightning invigorating the otherworldly elements fusing with ours, and demons falling down like rain in the distance. Luckily none were falling on me yet and I rushed headfirst into the chaos.
"Just upload a safe running path for me, and I'll do what I can do keep up with your link."
"Sure," Larry complied, "but the talent is gonna come down to you Kym. Your going to have to get her out of there. We don't know what her situation is like, so get in there. Go for it."
"Alright," as I uploaded the first schematic to my HUD. My path was rife with a digital satellite readout that was still responding to stations on the surface. People fleeing for their lives, vehicles on fire, buildings crumbling, security forces responding in certain places, and me in the middle. Coming up the boulevard to such a hellish verse as to be the afterlife.
Class 1 and 2 kaiju resonated on my radar around me. Some with full lifesigns, others with barely a pulse. I burned my way around anything giving off healthy readings. Making my way through broken down buildings barricading off streets, to walls of dead kaiju that needed stomping through, leaving a pulpy mess behind.
The HUD showed that Grace's last whereabouts were close, a block or two by the readings, but so too would be the Kaiju. One of which was a solid beast and the other, reportedly, something more deadly. Possibly even a Class 5+, something never before dealt with.
I ripped open the red laser guards on my triggers. Mel responded with the green hue of her HUD changing into a fiery orange. Targets popped up and I could sense what she was watching through me. I was the brain of the monster that lusted for destruction, and I alone held her reins.
Then a ten or so story kaiju bobbled out from behind a mostly downed building. The fucker was easily five times my height. Its shadow blanketed a good distance behind me. Swallowing my spit, and gripping the controls I raised my chassis to view the monster's face.
It had two. Large flat circular faces that split down the center, large splotchy eyes on either side, revealing spines of talon-like teeth. Their faces were attached to chubby contorting throats that stretched over a hundred feet. The skin on its body looked slimy, but like thick bark. Four arms ended in talons and spines. It's body gained ground on three-ish legs, one of which inverted and ran almost backwards.
Mel could sense my hesitation, her systems linking a variety of options to my fingertips. Her speed adjusting to my now backpedaling motions. I brought up a small laser combo, linking several of the small lasers in an stress-less heat endeavor. I pulled her trigger with my right hand, while linking in a tighter punch with a heavy laser and medium laser link, careful not to blow past her heat-sink limits. Mel was taking it well though, not even registering in the yellow range.
The lasers began tearing into the monstrous kaiju, carving out huge pieces of meat that immediately began to flow green and blue slime. It's attention came fully upon me as it reared it's ugly heads. Instincts began to trigger as Mel stepped back into a more open corridor. The monster followed, closing the distance with each stride. It's foot prints were smoking ashy pits, but where was this other Kaiju?
As I adjusted to the cockpit I watched for human life signs on a fourth computer and scanned for SOS calls coming from the ground. There was no guarantee Harlequin was safe or if she had a comm device, yet I attempted and with haste to output a general alert via the megaphones attached to Mel's underside.
Then, as all seemed like it might be too easy, the doubled-headed, flat-faced, kaiju made a leap off its strange gimp leg straight on top of Mel. We were being crushed momentarily. Then the engine kicked and Mel's gyros thrusted like an angry bull. We were more solid it appeared, as Mel's cockpit held firm and her arms and head began to burst through the semi-solid skin of this kaiju.
The demon roared in pain as it was jiggled about briefly. It picked itself up off the smaller mech only to have its retreat rewarded with a three combo laser punch. The first shot was a host of small lasers, twinkling in a magenta rhythm, then the medium arm lasers in succession like a rapid beat to music, and lastly the twin heavy laser racks that were aligned in the breasts of Mel's complex array. Her heat began to flash yellow after the barrage concluded the first time. Firing off two missiles destabilized the kaiju. I timed the laser punches in a cooling rythm that didn't allow Mel to red-line, bursting huge chunks of flesh off the demon as it lost its balance and hurtled into the floor.
Bringing Mel back up to speed I decided to use her mobility to my advantage. I kicked her into a trot and began pacing around the downed kaiju decapitating and destroying the main stalks and limbs. Although the body still writhed as if it were alive somehow. I continued with the basic pattern keeping an eye on the radar and my heat. I didn't want to risk it regenerating so I stopped just short of a complete crisp. Its ashen body lay still in the rubble, but nothing registered on my radar. Nothing coming in and nothing moving, yet.
My comm fizzled, "Pilot," fizzle ,"…-ant, I repeat the few remaining people are moving out, we thank you for your endeavor. May we know your name?"
"Kymbalt Jartiss," I said back almost cheerily, "wait, its not safe to move yet. Another kaiju has been reported. Have you seen it?"
Suddenly chatter on the other side of the comm became several voices at once. They were arguing about seeing something, but that it disappeared. No one was speaking directly to me for a few moments so I interjected.
"I'm also looking for a woman that is supposed to be around here. She goes by Grace, typically wears her Ace jacket. You'd be able to spot this jockey if she were around. Anybody?"
"No, sorry. There aren't any pilots out here. A band of people struck out back to the city area, but we haven't heard from them. Some women were among that group."
"Damn. Well do you have any idea which way they went or where that kaiju is?"
Just then a voice came across the comm, a young girl whose voice reminded me of Gena, "Kymbalt, look. There was another monster. It wasn't like the other one. This one could change it's shape. I saw it melt into the ground and disappear after it hit. If you go over to the next block you'll see where it landed. Everything it touched melted. Then it grew together like a bead of water, then sunk into the ground and was gone."
"Okay," hesitant at the description, "I'll go have a look."
Mel walked me over to this spot. The ground was completely hollow like something had bore a huge metal rod into it. As we looked down I opened the sensor array to see if I got any kaiju detection. Something at the farthest depths was giving off disturbing readings.
I opened up Mel's missile bays as we stared down into the hole. The clicks of the shields guarding the pods of her shoulder racks slid back, and eighteen missile tips glared down the hole with me. I unleashed a duo. Straight and true. A rumble resonated deep down and then my proximity reader suggest I step away, as something began to resurface.
Mel stood her ground as whatever it was came oozing up like we'd struck oil, but it shot out for hundreds of feet into the air. As it rained down everything started to disintegrate on the molecular level, droplets of acid goo that quickly dribbled back together and started to form a large mass near the opening it emerged from. As it slid across the surface in snakes and beads to its center the ground was scorched with its movement and the surrounding environment was now a steaming hotbed of kaiju material. A true living nightmare.
As it collected together I was consumed with fear. It's mass must have been at least a few hundred times mine after it grew into one large being. At best it's material could be described as protoplasm, but it shimmered like slick oil. Rainbow patterns resonating through its body like a fine tuned harpsichord.
I could feel it watching us. Mel's engine rumbled in discomfort, like a dog unsure of what it had come across. As we back peddled further I could sense the urgent rush of danger coursing through me, like I'd pissed off the big bully on the playground, and on purpose. This kaiju's gestures were extraordinarily alien, yet ominous to say the least. When Mel shifted around a corner we could see the rythms of the kaiju's body change into different pinpoints in our direction. It sensed us, or rather Mel, and pointed as if glaring could be described by pulsating a gelatinous mirror at you.
I turned Mel straight into the nearby largest building to avoid line of sight with the thing. As we came out the opposite end its pearly omnipotence rippled a new pulse through its body aiming a straight line at us. Not willing to sit through a staring match I levied Mel's arsenal and let the blob have it. Red, Blue, and Green bolts of laser energy seared the sky in a multi relay that resembled a heroic light show.
The blob was unfazed and reacted as if no damage had been done. It rolled towards us leveling everything in its wake. My laser attacked seemed only to antagonize It. I kicked Mel's awaiting engine up. And we ran for safer ground, leaving the 5+ behind for a moment. At least her speed seemed unmatched in this fight.
My radar detected a friendly in the nearby area. The same tag that Commander Om had registered was steadily approaching Mel's position. As it came into range my comms beamed on. I answered the call.
"Om here, what is the situation? I could see a glimmering portal miles off and decided to investigate."
"Do not approach!" I began, "It's in the 5+ category! We may have no way to presently defeat it!"
"We'll have to distract it until the Bleed ends. If we do our best we might be able to end its mission here."
"I think it was tunneling to the core of the planet to be honest, but we'll never know now. Unless you can talk to it."
"Sorry Kym, the only language I speak when I'm piloting mecha is kill them first with what you got," and as he concluded a massive out pour of energy blasted out from Om's Vindicator and collided with the protoplasm mirror being. Huge swathes were trimmed away like glitter being cast off a wet body.
To our horror, the monster fell out of shape and became a worm. It crisis-crossed through the floor as it made its way towards Commander Om's Vindicator, tunneling with ease. Like a huge wave It bore down on his position faster than his Mech could move, and that's when I knew Mel was outmatched.
Fortunately for the Commander, he was a seasoned veteran pilot. One that could time things perfectly. His Mech was advancing towards the shimmering wyrm, but once he realized it was too late to turn back he set coordinates for his ejection pod to land him back at the mecha bays. Right after doing so it came down to a few seconds of quick thinking and trigger pulling and then ejection to set off a mighty lightshow that had some enduring effect on this unstoppable being: the Vindicator made an Alpha Strike at the oncoming worm.
Missile racks burning free, both arms churning lasers, and a mighty shoulder cannon plopping its final blows caused the worm to blow back by some measurable distance. Right before Om's ejection pod could be seen flying out just in time for the worm to catch up to the Alpha striking mech and completely devour it.
Nothing was left of the Vindicator. It was as if it had never been standing there in the first place. I knew Mel sensed a run in her. Frightened we bolted at top speed. Mel was in a speed trial for her life. "The fastest speed out of the tightest clinch," rang through my head as I recalled one of the advertisements on the walls of the mech silos. We paced back a long distance to backtrack to the bays.
To my delightful surprise both Om and Harlequin were waiting in pitch perfect mechs, their silhouettes casting impressive shadows. Om stood at the helm of a vintage yet powerful 100 ton CR45-Omega "Atlas." Harlequin piloted a "master" 90 ton mech: the Gravada Mors "Marauder." They were exchanging data and communicating when I came into their range. They greeted me with friendly radar pings.
I was let in on their communication channel. They were in mid-discussion, something about luring the 5+ into an old atomic reactor. I didn't want to drop the beat so I shut up and listened.
"…We'll take it through the old tunnels and bring it through the main floor of the reactor. Back when it was still operational I operated the entire grid from a desk. Now that Kymbalt has joined us we have the perfect bait to run it with. Om you'll be stationed at the floor level, ready to attack as soon as it breaches. We'll have to draw its attention off Kym and keep it busy while the reactor melts down, if and only if it comes at you will you Alpha and eject. Once I activate the overrides to meltdown I'm heading to my mech. If we can split its attention for long enough we should be able to wreck its world. Om, your steadily going to withdraw through the Mesa bay doors, try to get those thick doors closed then haul ass out of there as fast as that thing can go."
"Don't worry Harlequin," Om replied, "this old girl has some tricks up her sleeve. She'll bring it."
"Where will I be?" I couldn't help but wonder.
Grace answered, "Your playing duck and weave. I want you to prick it with missiles every time it loses track of you or tries to go after one of us, which I'm thinking will inevitably be me. My payload is heavy and will draw the most attention. Kym, your main objective is to keep that mech up and running by the time this is all over. Understand?"
"Yes ma'am."
"We start at the west tunnels and draw it in. Once it starts to chase you don't look back. Keep the pace till you clear the breach and we support you. Last thing, if your still in the reactor when it goes thermo-nuclear then eject to space. We'll get you once this is all over, but there won't be a safer place. Everything else will be so hot that there's not going to be a spot to land your pod and if your still at ground zero you'll perish."
I didn't think there would be a chance earlier, but now that Grace was on top of things it seemed like we could win. Om was in the biggest rig I'd ever seen. It looked like the Atlas had small pockets decking out its forearms, but visible laser tech was chiseled throughout its body. Mel hummed softly as if she'd taken a quick cat nap. I let her as the plans unfolded. Then, once all was concluded, like a fine tuned instrument she came to life and we were on our way.
We came to a splitting point where Harlequin and Om traveled ahead. The tunnels ran deep and in all sorts of directions. My comrades arrived themselves close enough to the reactor when my radar registered the 5+.
"Guys," I blurted out.
"Got something kid?" Harlequin registered.
"It's traveling North of us on a western route. It's clocking in at speeds that far outmatch me."
"Don't be scared," Om chimed in, "it is also traveling on a straight path. You will be in the tunnels weaving and taking ninety degree turns, Just get its attention and then book it to us."
"Kym, we've arrived at the reactor. I'm going up into the control room."
"Ok…I'll start the run then. Looking forward to the meltdown."
Harlequin reassured me with, "Don't worry Kym, we won't blow up the city without you."
I picked a spot to shoot. Pulling the trigger Mel's heavy chest armament popped off two heavy-beam bolts. The lances traveled for a moment then collided with the protoplasmic Kaiju entity. It came together like a worm collapsing in on itself without moving from a center-point. I fired off an array of laser beams then. The blob fell into a dive and then was on its way.
As it started at me I spun Mel around and faced the tunnel. Ready to swallow us, the mouth rumbled at it's edges with the roar of Mel's engine. If she were anything like an old car, it would be the equivalent of red lining the engine in an unmoving vehicle. I dropped her into the lowest gear and let the clutch out with a heavy lead foot on the gas pedal. Bam, Mel's RPMs flew off the charts momentarily as the computational devices adjusted to the sudden jolt. Second gear, she heaved through the asphalt like it was fresh powdery snow, crushing and plowing a trail. Third gear, the God gear, we hurled through the hallways and they became a blur, pulling several Gs at that point I was hurled back against the seat. All you could do was firmly grasp the controls. In fourth gear the cockpit settles slightly as the auto-gyros and stabilizers adjust to the raw speed of the Umbra's advanced engineering. Last gear, we're pushing it at this point as Mel's speed hits it's limitations, but there were ways to enhance her speed, and slow the beast's.
Using an auto pilot to help me navigate the ancient tunnels I pulled up some blue prints on the HUD. Searching for weak points in the tunnel that were collapse worthy, but only risky enough that I could pass them as they were breaking apart. I found two such points and after being satisfied I took back the controls.
We had traveled nearly a third of the way to the core and I could see the beast following me through radar-scopes. In a few miles the first weak point in the structure would be coming up. An asset I'd only just acquired through instantaneous research. I mockingly pulled the triggers and watched as my approach vector brought me right in the path of thousands of tons of rubble and debris. We passed right under them just in the nick of time. In the very petite rear view I watched as we jogged off and the rubble piled up into one massive blockage.
Underestimating it's speed I watched as the wall collapsed under the velocity of this unstoppable Kaiju. For a brief spectacular moment I was hopeful of a slight victory, but it's hate must be an endless fuel for its awesome onslaught. Mel hurtled us onward with the hum of the machine indicating it's pulse in the background.
Threading the endless maze my only pain became the doubt that the reactor wouldn't be able to end this thing. Even if we didn't end it, the consequences for this region alone would be catastrophic. There was no turning back at this point. We had to at least try to kill it.
Flying past the second weak point I blasted it with enough of an array, yet the tunnel held. I passed under with less of a dramatic effect. Up ahead was the breach. My friends would be waiting for me. I hoped they would be there. In the background not far behind the massive concrete tunnel walls were churned into dust as the beast raged onward.
I beamed a heads up to Om, "Ready to party?"
"Harlequin is almost finished. Things are heating up. I'm uploading a few way points of interest to you in your nav-comp. Use them to your advantage. You'll see what I mean."
"Thanks Om. We'll have a victory drink when this is all over."
"No promises young one. I don't drink much anymore anyway. How about cigars?"
Never having smoked a cigar in my life I considered it. And then the breach was in front of me. Steadily, I prepared to see some crossfire from the Atlas, hidden somewhere inside the massive complex and ready to ambush the beast.
When I came out of the breach I found my way through the open spaces at first, then began to run the length of the wall, behind deep cover. The beast came into the room, curling upwards like a snake. As it began its search heavy strikes were launched from Om's position. Successions of rapid and semi-auto blasts that amazed my ears. The Atlas' heat-sink array was impressively engineered. Her armament even more so. The amount of laser fire flying out of its forearms never stopped. It would have been a nightmare to fight in an open field. As he fired is waves of death and caught the kaiju by surprise and thereby getting its utmost attention Harlequin spoke up on the comms.
"That's it. Shit is going to hell. Om. Begin your retreat. I'm coming down now."
"Roger that Harlequin, this monster is in for one big surprise! Let's kill it and go home!" Om could be heard grunting through the mic as he jerked he controls around whilst simultaneously piloting and attacking.
I turned a quick corner and jogged under a tiny breezeway. The cars at my feet were like toys inside Mel's 35 ton chassis. Everything on the street bounced as we passed. The containment building where the fuel was stored was where Harlequin would be. The design of this old nuclear power plant wasn't complicated, but it's size was comparable to a small town.
The Kaiju retained a worm like appearance as it slithered about the huge connecting steam chambers. Om was rapidly leaving the area and almost to the massive reinforced doors that were to be shut upon his immediate exit from the area. The radiation processing plant was ancient and built for the best sort of meltdown. Om's fire was dwarfed now by the size of Titan kaiju. I popped off a few missiles at random spots as I fled through the now sparse expanse of the connecting tunnels, to give the most confusion possible.
When the beast turned to me I was stunned as it spotted me like a hawk. It's size gave it far superior sight and scope. Nothing could stay hidden from it.
The Kaiju moved as if being poured from a zipper, like an ocean covering a once dry floor. Cascading out in all directions the beast began to reach at me in all directions. I flew down a couple of byway streets and pulled ninety degree angles like a pro. Mel was hot, she knew we could be dead soon. She knew she was pulling her final hour. Yet on she tumbled and yearned for more.
Finally the demon caught up to me. I turned down a passage-less entryway. A dead end greeted me.
It splashed around the corner like spilled paint. Casually it reared up, taking it's worm form at first, then a larger and larger bio-luminescent bead of protoplasm. High pitched squeals emitted from it, blasting out windows for miles. Then like a wave it came down.
In my brief moment of hesitation Mel kicked us straight into the air, something I didn't know she could do. We flew hundreds of feet out of the way and onto an adjacent street. Then she surprised me again and we were flying down a connecting corridor from the previous danger zone. I unleashed hell as I knew I probably wouldn't get another chance. Churning the pavement into crusty bits we flew at the monster, Alpha Striking the missile racks to 0, and hitting the red in the heat sinks, the laser cannons steamed with delight. Then we hit a turn and were out of harms way off to the other side of the containment chamber. This is where we would have to kill it, and it was pissed enough to follow me.
As far as I knew we were trapped inside now. Om had completed his mission and the Atlas was well on its way out. Now it was up to Harlequin and I to finish the job and get spaced as soon as possible. I comm-ed Harlequin.
"Harlequin, Kym here! I've got it into the containment room. If we can set off an explosion in the holding cell we should attain the desired results!"
"Worry not Kym, I am with you."
Out of nowhere huge swaths of particle cannon energy fried and crisped the flanks of the huge monster. I looked past the demon that was still pursuing me, to see Grace's Marauder plowing down the runway, unleashing it's mighty back cannon, along with it's forearm mounted particle cannons amped for maximum chaos. A few missile racks poured forth swarms of mini-missiles. The air was raining death for a brief moment, the monster was even partially stunned. Then came the moment of truth.
I approached the containment room. Luckily engineers design a lot of pods differently. Mel was actually radiation proof, at least where her small pod holding her brain, me, was stationed. I blew off the lids to the holding rods and then punched a massive hole in the roof above. I plugged in the overrides to Mel's brain matrix and set her self destruct for twenty seconds. I parked her between a set of massive steam generators and I hit eject right before a containment vessel that leaked forth molten fuel onto the floor.
I watched as Harlequin narrowly escaped death twice to lure the beast straight to the heart of the blast. She set her self-destruct sequencer for a split second on the dot to mine and ejected right under me. The explosion from space was catastrophic. The mushroom billowed up below us as we reached the outer limits of the stratosphere. The rocking of the planet below was a sure fire sign that whatever that thing was it was now dead.
I peeled my eyes away just in time to see the Bleed ending. The red storms of space looking like a monster vortex were now only just mirages steadily disappearing into the ether. The planet was pockmarked with destruction.
"Wow," I said to Grace, "I didn't think we'd live through that."
A soft grunting could be heard like she'd just ran a marathon, "Yeh, that was what I call a very close call. Shit, I'm surprised you lived too. Hey, kid?"
"Yeh, Harlequin?"
"Your hired."
We stopped talking after that. Many hours would pass in the emptiness of space staring down at the now barren planet waiting for the leagues to appear and help mop up. Never before had I felt so vilified to be doing what I had now just achieved. I sat there in the dark, thinking about everything that went down. In the end I was lucky I had Mel. She saved me, and I gave her one final hurrah. One final blow to the gut sucking reality that we live. And what a wonderful gal she was.


text: Arnold Palmer: (1929-2016) American professional golfer. One of the greatest in history. The first superstar, of the sport's, television age. 95 Professional Victories, including The Masters, 1958, 1960, 1962, 1964; The U.S. Open, 1960; and the Open Championship 1961, 1962. Shown here is a panoramic of Augusta National's hole #16 on a tournament Sunday. Below are three images of Palmer. Hogan with Palmer in 1966. Palmer arriving at the club in 1977 and a photo of his 2004 Farewell appearance. Matted in green and gold with an informative black and gold plaque. Framed as shown using brown "leather" with gold accent to an approximate overall size of 30x23x2 inches. Ready to hang.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Kaspersky Takes Us Into the Belly of the Equation Beast
If you'll remember back a few weeks ago, we dropped a report on what could potentially be one of the most devious tools in the whole belt of what the NSA has to offer.
After spending over a year tracking the movements of a group that the researchers at Kaspersky Lab only refer to as "The Equation Group", the anti-virus vendor came clean with their investigation into an organization which had been trolling the net for a very specific set of targets (almost always high-profile members of prolific terrorist circles), who were responsible for coordinating some of the largest attacks we've seen over the past ten years.
The Equation Group was tasked with keeping a close eye on their movements and communications, using highly advanced styles of malware that far exceeded anything else the security community has seen to date.
Stuxnet and Flame, both of which took the infosec world by storm in 2010, couldn't even hold a candle to the programs and executables that Kaspersky found wrapped up in this web, developed by some of the top engineers with what seemed like a limitless amount of resources to aid in its stealthy mission over the past 14 years, and counting.
We say 'and counting' as apparently earlier this week Kaspersky discovered another piece of the code which could supposedly strengthen the link between the actions of The Equation Group and the Snowden leaks.
A small string of ASCII (American Standard Code for Information Interchange) characters, "BACKSNARF_AB25", bears an eerie resemblance to a separate program found in 19 pages of undated presentations linked to the SPINALTAP operation used to track priority targets as they moved from one country to the next.
Although that may not seem like enough to pin the actions of the Equation Group square on the NSA's shoulders, BACKSNARF is only one of several different code names that were found buried both in the official leaks and the root structure of programs utilized by the Equation Group.
The best we can surmise from Kaspersky's reticence to name the NSA as the true culprit behind the Equation Group likely ties back to the possible legal implications of making the connection.
Without enough hard proof to definitively link the rogue agency to this particular set of hacks, the US government could sue the anti-virus outfit, or worse.
So instead, they're simply going to release their findings cold, with a very large wink and a nudge attached which suggests that someone with state-sponsored capabilities and intricate knowledge of current encryption standards are backing the mysterious hacking organization named in their findings.
No matter what you believe, it's clear that operations like EquationDrug are some of the most advanced, intricate, and focused malware campaigns we've seen to date. They feature incredibly complex code that could have only been written by the ultra-elite of the security world, and have showcased possibilities in the realm of Internet security that specialists could only dream of.
We're sure this won't be the last we hear of the Equation Group, so stay tuned to VPN Creative for all the latest updates as they develop.


text:
On Thursday we got a call from ACC. After three months deliberation on our case, they made one minor change. M asked how our corrections to the report had been factored into this decision. ACC response – what corrections? They had never received them, or lost them. To put this into context, we started this process in February of last year, it's gone through about five different variations on the report and now gone to mediation. It took us two weeks and a lot of strength to write those corrections which involved correcting the details of our abuse and more devastatingly, writing anywhere for the first time that the father sexually abused us. So this was highly confidential, soul destroying information… and they LOST it! It could have ended up anywhere, anyone could have been reading it – it had our name, address and everything on it.
When I've told people this, their immediate response is "Oh no, do you have a copy on your computer?" Yes, of course we do. I know that's the reasonable response you give to an adult. But SO holds the secrets on that bit of paper and she is 7. All she sees is that we should never have told the secrets cos it's bad and lots of people read it and it's bad and we's get into trouble and we's bad and evil and it all our fault. It becomes a mantra that we're bad and evil for telling. W and SO are closely linked within the system. SO gets upset and W will react. This action meant a call to the mental health crisis line on Thursday night to stop the suicide. In typical form with our interactions with this team, the connection was bad and they were going to call back. They did eventually – on Saturday. We had the usual conversation:
Crisis Line: You're suicidal, lets bring you in for an assessment.
Us: No thanks, your only option is hospital and that isn't an option for me.
Crisis Line: No, we also have community placements or agree to regular contact for a week to see how you're going. We can also get you in to see one of our community psychiatrists.
Sounds reasonable, doesn't it? Almost like they will be able to help.
Us: In my experience that has never happened. I've been promised community placement, only to end up in the psychiatric ward. I've had phone calls daily from your team and they're more triggering than helpful.
Crisis Line: Well I'm sorry that has been your experience, let us know if we can help.
I know that those of you who haven't experienced their services will say I'm being stupid for rejecting this assistance. I know that they have saved many lives. But our issues with authority and psychiatric hospitals mean that they are more likely to kill than save us. We call them for the distraction, nothing more.
One of us called them again on Saturday night and we ended up being hauled in for an assessment. It was hell. We need peaceful surroundings and control when we're suicidal. But last night it was raining and there was international rugby on TV. Those two factors meant that a great deal of the homeless had decided to be suicidal that night in order to watch the rugby, have a shower, get a meal and warm bed. The shelters would've been overwhelmed, and they know that if you say you're suicidal, they have to admit you.
We managed to get out of the hospital and get to the relative safety of home. But we're a mess. The oddest things are triggering. We know that people need to talk about how they cope with sex as a survivor. But today, it's too much. It's become about others not being safe – cos all sex hurts.
We're in trouble and I don't know how to fix it.


text:
Hanoi: Seeking a more dynamic relationship with strategically-important Vietnam, External Affairs Minister Sushma Swaraj arrived here today for talks with the country's top leadership during which cooperation in defence, agriculture, pharmaceuticals and textiles would be in focus.
The crucial three-day visit comes just days after Vietnam renewed India's lease of two oil blocks in South China Sea for another year, a move that could rile China. It also comes ahead of next month's visit by President Pranab Mukherjee.
During her visit, Swaraj will also chair a meeting of the heads of Indian Missions in the region besides inaugurating the 3rd Round-table of the ASEAN-India Network of think tanks. "India and Vietnam enjoy excellent political relations. We expect that the External Affairs Minister's visit to Vietnam will pave the way for high-level exchange of visits between India and Vietnam during the course of the year," MEA spokesperson Syed Akbaruddin had said.
India and Vietnam have a tradition of exchanging high-level visits. The last high level visit from Vietnam was by the Secretary General of Vietnamese Communist party Nguyen Phú Trong, last November.
Both the countries also have fairly robust economic ties and the bilateral trade stands at USD 8 billion, of which Indian exports to the country is about USD 5.4 billion. "We see prospects in the current situation in terms of enhancing our ties including in areas such as textile, pharmaceuticals and agricultural products," Akbaruddin had said.
Asked if the issue of defence cooperation, which Vietnam is keen for, will be discussed, he said "in the world of diplomacy, some things are better left unsaid and defence cooperation is one of those".
The Southeast Asian nation had recently renewed India's lease of two oil blocks off its coast in an area disputed with China in the South China Sea.
According to Indian diplomats, Indian oil companies have felt, for techno-commercial reasons, that they would like to avail the opportunity to explore those oil blocks for a further period of one year.
Earlier the companies had found that it would be difficult to utilise those because of lack of availability of deep sea rigs there.
"However, they had extended for a two-year period (in 2012) and since then, the situation in terms availability of such rigs has improved. So Indian oil companies have agreed to extend the option to explore for another year," an official said.
The issue is likely to come up for discussion when Swaraj will hold meetings with her Vietnamese counterpart and call on the top leadership.
Swaraj will also inaugurate, along with her Vietnamese counterpart, the 3rd Round-table of the ASEAN-India Network of think-tanks. The think-tank from Indian side which coordinates this is Research and Information System for Developing Countries (RIS).
The minister has also convened a meeting of Indian Heads of Missions in the region that is in Southeast Asia and East Asia, on August 26. It is expected that 19 Indian heads of missions from that region will be participating in the brainstorming session.
The Mekong-Ganga project will also be discussed.


text:
A 20% improvement in fertilizer efficiency by 2020 would reduce nitrogen use by 20 million metric tons, according to a report commissioned by the United Nations Environmental Program.
The report was released at a forum held last week in Nairobi, Kenya, and was developed by nearly 50 experts from 14 countries.
The experts are calling the campaign to improve nitrogen efficiency "20:20 for 2020. Their analysis shows how this could provide a net savings worth more than $170 million by the end of 2020 through intergovernmental framework to address fertilizer use.
"Our analysis shows that by improving the management of the flow of nutrients we can help protect the environment, climate and human health, while addressing food and energy security concerns," said Professor Mark Sutton of the UK's Centre for Ecology & Hydrology and lead author of the report.
Options to limit waste
The report proposes a package of ten key actions to reduce pollution threats, and makes recommendations for shared action by governments, business and citizens. Key points include:
-Actions that improve the management of nutrients in agriculture, including crops, livestock and manure management. Measures include precision agricultural methods suitable for both developed and developing countries.
-Actions to reduce nutrient losses from industry and waste water treatment, including the recycling of available resources. Develop methods to recapture nitrogen oxides from combustion sources.
-Actions to improve local optimization of nutrient flows, connecting arable and livestock farming to improve nutrient recycling opportunities.
-Lowering personal consumption of animal protein. With rapidly increasing meat and dairy consumption, as Asia and Latin America aspire to European and North American norms, diet choices have a potential to influence future levels of global nutrient pollution.
Co-author Dr Bruna Grizzetti, based at CNRS/Université Pierre et Marie Curie said localizing agricultural production is a really important option.
"Crop and livestock farming are often separated by many hundreds of kilometers. Localization helps improve nutrient recycling, reducing nutrient losses, while bringing the production benefits and pollution responsibilities closer together."


text:
Jackie Collins only told her older sister Joan two weeks before she died that she had been battling breast cancer - because she didn't want to be a burden.
The novelist, who has died at the age of 77, was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer more than six years ago but kept her illness almost entirely to herself.
Just a week ago, the writer and her actress sister met up in London where they enjoyed dinner together at The Wolseley in Mayfair.
In a magazine interview which took place earlier this month, Jackie said her sister had been 'very shocked' after being told how serious the illness was.
'She had no idea. But she was great. We were emotional,' Jackie told People.
Jackie explained she hadn't told her famous older sister about her illness sooner because she hadn't wanted to burden her.
'I just felt she didn't need it in her life. She's very positive and very social but I'm not sure how strong she is, so I didn't want to burden her with it,' she told the publication.
Following news of the author's death a spokesman for her family said last night: 'It is with tremendous sadness that we announce the death of our beautiful, dynamic and one of a kind mother, Jackie Collins, who died of breast cancer today.
'She lived a wonderfully full life and was adored by her family, friends and the millions of readers who she has been entertaining for over four decades.
'She was a true inspiration, a trail blazer for women in fiction and a creative force. She will live on through her characters but we already miss her beyond words.'
Her sister Joan, 82, said she was 'completely devastated' to lose her 'best friend'.
Sir Roger Moore, Sandra Bullock and Oprah were among the celebrities who paid tribute yesterday evening.
The best-selling author had spoken to her three daughters Tracy, 54, Tiffany, 48, and Rory, 46, about her illness.
She gave an interview from her home in Beverly Hills five days ago, saying she had no regrets.
Collins said she had lived life like Frank Sinatra, and 'did it my way'.
In the interview with People magazine, she said: 'Looking back, I'm not sorry about anything I did.
'I did it my way, as Frank Sinatra would say. I've written five books since the diagnosis, I've lived my life, I've traveled all over the world, I have not turned down book tours and no one has ever known until now when I feel as though I should come out with it.'
During the emotional interview, Collins - who also has a brother and six grandchildren - said that her family had always been her greatest love.
'I love being with my family,' she said. 'I love sitting out by the pool and watching my [grandkids] play.'
Saying goodbye: Jackie Collins, who died Saturday at 77, with sister Joan, 82, in London a week ago. Both sisters shared this 'last' photo of themselves together via social media
She fought back tears as she added that she wanted her daughters to know that she would 'always be there' for them.
The 'queen of the bonkbuster' stayed busy even in her final days, traveling to London to appear on Loose Women just nine days before her death.
She also remained active on Twitter, where she posted a picture of her with Harold Robbins and Irving Wallace back in the day.
The novelist, who spent most of her life in America and became a US citizen in 1960, wrote 32 books - all of which made it onto the New York Times Bestsellers' List.
During the emotional interview, Collins (pictured) - who also has a brother and six grandchildren - said that her family had always been her greatest love''
Collins (right) gave an interview from her home in Beverly Hills five days ago, saying she had no regrets''
Collins, who was 77, appeared on Loose Women in London just nine days before her death and appeared to be in good health''
Collins was born in Hampstead, London in 1937, and had help starting her career from her father, who was a theatrical agent whose clients included Shirley Bassey, The Beatles and Tom Jones.
She was expelled from a private school for girls at the age of 15 after throwing her school uniform into the Thames.
As a young stage singer she appeared alongside the likes of Des O'Connor and reportedly had an affair with Marlon Brando when she was 15 and he was 29.
She told the Daily Telegraph in 2012 that Brando was fun, but nothing more than a 'schoolgirl crush'. However, she admitted they spent more than one night together.
Married: Actress Jackie Collins on her wedding day, alongside her first husband Wallace Austin on December 13, 1960
HAHHAHAHAA'' MBUTA NANGA 'HILO DOLE MNALIONA EEE''Yani hivi sijui ndiyo alikuwa anawapa vijembe vya dole kina nani ? kumbe taarabu za Ulaya nazo zipo kitambo tena ARUSINI ? #NGACHOKA''
Jackie Collins was famed for her style and fashion sense, as well as her wit and writing ability. She is pictured here in 1956''
Collins said she always wanted her three daughters (pictured with her as children) to know she was there for them''
Collins, pictured with sister Joan in September 1977, said she had lived life like Frank Sinatra, and had 'done it my way'
The novelist (pictured with Joan Collins in 1974), who spent most of her later life in America, wrote 32 books - all of which made it onto the New York Times Bestsellers' List''
Collins' success was replicated in each of her next novels, which were read by more than 500million people around the globe, including Oprah (left)
She and her sister Joan started acting in British B movies, but Jackie largely gave up acting in the 1960s, although did play herself briefly in Minder in 1980.
The two remained close friends, with Jackie telling People magazine in 1987 that she wished her mother could seen what the pair of them have achieved before her death.
Her father, Joe, was proud of her, but thought her books were 'pornographic'. 'But he is 83 years old and if he liked my books, I would have to change my style,' she said at the time.
It was her writing that brought Collins stardom, with her first novel, The World Is Full of Married Men, causing controversy after its release in 1968.
Critics branded it 'nasty, filthy and disgusting' and it was banned in Australia and South Africa, but its resulting notoriety caused a huge sales boost in the US and the UK.
Her success was replicated in each of her next novels, which were read by more than 500million people around the globe.
In the 1980s, Collins and her family moved to Los Angeles full-time. Her next novel, Chances, featured her most famous character - Lucky Santangelo.
The 'dangerously beautiful' daughter of gangster Gino Santangelo would feature in nine of her best-selling books, of which two were serialized for television, starring Nicollete Sheridan and Sandra Bullock.
Critics branded Collins' (pictured in the late 1960s) first novel The World Is Full of Married Men 'nasty, filthy and disgusting' and it was banned in Australia and South Africa''
YANI ''I GOT THE BOOK 'AND I MUST SAY '' ITS FABULOUS ''I JUST WANTED TO BE LIKE HER ''WAKATI NILIPO KISOMA NAMI MZUNGU MMOJA RAFIKI YANGU 'ALINIAMBIA KUMHUSU ''THAT SHE USE KUANDIKA YAKE NA ANAYOYAONA YANATENDEKA DUNIANI ''AND ITS TRUE 'THE WORLD IS FULL OF MARRIED MEN..Look how sisi Watanzania Wanawake kila siku kuchukuliana mabwana'' why ? is just that'' wanaume wengi wameshachukuliwaaaaaaaaaa''mbuta nanga'' JAMANI SO SAD''KUSIKIA KAFARIKI ''NITAKUKUMBUKA DAIMA MY DEAR''ULINIFUNDISHA MENGI AND HADI LEO GOT MY BOOK THAT I WANT ONE DAY KUPATA MTU WAKUNISAIDIA KUKICHAPISHA'' YANI ITS NICE KWA KWELI ''I KNOW WATANZANIA WENGI MTAKIPENDA KITABU CHANGU'' COMING ONE DAY'' RUWA MANGI''
She and her sister Joan started acting in British B movies, but Jackie (pictured in 1955) largely gave up acting in the 1960s
Collins' success was replicated in each of her next novels, which were read by more than 500million people around the globe''
Collins (pictured in 1968) was given an OBE in the 2013 Birthday Honours for services to fiction and charity. She is pictured here in 1968''
The best-selling author (pictured in 1956) had spoken to her three daughters Tracy, 54, Tiffany, 48, and Rory, 46, about her illness''
Collins (pictured at her home in Beverly Hills in 1984) said she had lived life like Frank Sinatra, and 'did it my way'. She is pictured here in 1984
Collins (pictured in 1968) wed two times and was engaged to be married a third time, but her fiance died
Collins would always buy herself a present after a successful novel, and purchased herself a silver Cadillac Seville after the release of Hollywood Husbands - another chart-topper. It would go on to sell at auction for just over $7,000 in 2006.
She went on to present her own daily television show in 1998, Jackie Collins Hollywood, in which she interviewed stars of stage, screen and music, including George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez.
Collins married two times, wedding her first husband Wallace Austin in 1960. They had one child, Tracy, born in 1961, before their divorce in 1964.
In 1965, Collins married art gallery and nightclub owner, Oscar Lerman.
They married in the home of her sister Joan and Anthony Newley, and went on two have two daughters, Tiffany and Rory. Lerman also adopted Collins' Tracy. Lerman died in 1992 from prostate cancer.
In the Sunday Times Rich List 2011, Collins was listed as the UK's fifth richest author with an estimated personal fortune of $96million


text: I've had it for about two years now though it is still like new. If you are familar you know they are a GREAT sounding instrument! I am selling because I would like to pick up an inexpensive fretted 5 (my only other bass is a fretless P/J) and fretless bass, much less the Ashbory, do not lend themselves well to chordal type playing. Moon Blue with original packaging Gig Bag Mint condition VERY REASONABLE Feel free to email any offers/questions firstname.lastname@example.com


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Search North Elm School Records
Click on a field below to see your choices, then make a choice. After adding a choice to a field, you can click the field again, and add another choice.
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Items Count: 1479
Mae Fuller
Additional Info
- Enrollment Year: 1910
- Census Trustee Full Name: Cass Barrett
- Parent Last Name: Fuller
- Parent First Name: J. R.
- Student Last Name: Fuller
- Student First Name: Mae


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Use this stylish template for your wedding program to create a simple yet elegant look. It's simple to download this template and change out the text to fit your wedding. Print this out on nice card stock paper and place it on the seats for your guests as they enter and begin to sit.
Download: one_page_template


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Available ebook formats: epub
Having taught music (Elementary, Junior High, and College) for over thirty years, Professor Haddock writes from the experience of explaining the basic building blocks of music to students. With thirty years at the college level, L C Haddock has taught classes in Fundamentals of Music, as well as Theory and Musicianship (Sightsinging and Eartraining). Understanding how students learn has enabled her to concentrate on the smallest teachable concepts, hone her craft of presenting those concepts to her students, and watch the students successfully master the concepts.
In her words, "Textbooks sometimes lose track of the essential thread upon which most music concepts are based—key signatures. The reason we teach fundamentals of music is because there really are basic fundamentals in music. These fundamentals are the underpinnings of the superb music of the ages. They are used over and over and can be learned. My goal is to write mini-books that focus on mastery of these fundamentals, spiraling conceptual learning by systematically building new learning upon previous learning. Key signatures need to be learned before attempting scales. Once students learn key signatures, they can build and analyze chords, build and analyze intervals, and write major and minor scales. Building concept upon concept with intentional reinforcement of previous concepts results in solid academic understanding and retention."
Lynette Haddock (pen name Grammy Lyn) is also the children's author of "The Three Spunkiens Find a Monkey" and "The Three Spunkiens on Safari," under the pen name of "Grammy Lyn." Growing up in Nigeria and Ghana, West Africa, and traveling the African continent, Grammy Lyn's children's books are full of animal adventure.


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Do You Suffer From Heel Pain?
Did you know that chiropractic can help alleviate heel pain? According to the Mayo Clinic, one of the most common causes of heel pain is plantar fasciitis or inflammation of a thick ligament (plantar fascia) on the bottom of the foot. Specific tests will be done in a chiropractic office to ensure the problem is caused by plantar fasciitis.
While rest and ice help with any inflammatory condition, chiropractors can also help decrease heel pain. Through the use of stretches, exercises, adjusting and in-office physical therapy modalities, a pain-free lifestyle may be obtained.
If you are suffering from heel pain, we can help.


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Augmented Reality in education looks at how AR is having an impact on schools around the world. Created by Paul Hamilton, leader in augmented reality in schools and education.
Saturday, 22 December 2012
Science AR app - augmented reality coming soon.
2013 promises to be an amazing time for classrooms across the globe with the Science AR app due for official release January 3rd 2013. Get your educational posters for free and printed ready for the release of this ground breaking educational app. Partnering with the power of Aurasma, the Science AR app has been eagerly anticipated for some time.
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Remember this book?
It was pretty good, wasn't it? Mind you, it wasn't as good as this one:
Because that one REPRINTED THE STORIES. And of course we much prefer comic nostalgia books when they REPRINT THE STORIES, don't we? So let's hope DC Thomson or the various arms of IPC aren't planning to do a book about, say, Sexton Blake in the style of those recent Copperplate and Frank Reid books from Yankland, which are just a bunch of cod-historical articles with photoshops that make out these "steampunk" (which Sexton Blake wasn't, anyway) characters were real. Because of course we expect any new books about classic British comic characters to REPRINT THE STORIES, or they won't really be worth buying.
Anyway, the Bunty book featured a reproduction of the first-ever Bunty cover:
British first issues at that time rarely had impressive covers. Mind you, they were usually covered with stuck-on gifts.
And at the end of the final (and very short, they know exactly who they were aiming this book at!) chapter, The 80's:
It reproduces the last-ever cover, from 2001.
Is that a text story I see being advertised?
Hang on, haven't we missed something there? Well then, as I not-so-recently-now made a haul of about 100 Bunty's from 1993 – 1995 for only a fiver, I may as well create that missing chapter myself!
Some typical covers
By this time, the illustrated covers (the first 30 years or so of the comic featured Bunty, the mascot, in short comedy strips on the covers) had given way to magazine-style photos of girls, with lots of plain word-processed text advertising the features inside. A prototype of the horrible covers that graced The Dandy Extreme or the current Beano.
Are these girls generic model photos from an agency archive, or did DC Thomson hoover up the pupils of a nearby school?
The paper was not glossy, though. It was the same kind that was being used for the Beano and Dandy at the time, though perhaps a little thicker, so photos would reproduce better.
The main story in the comic was still The Four Marys, an old-fashioned story about a same-sex boarding school. It wasn't set in the past, though, and the girls would wear fashionable 90's clothes when going into the nearby town. Modern cars and tape players could also be seen. The Four Marys' stories were arranged into serials with clear beginnings and endings, it appears that any character development that went on through the serials was slight, and that each one was basically a brand new story. Typical storylines would involve a new and/or naive girl being tricked into trouble by the bullies, or one of the Mary's falling out with the others because of a misunderstanding.
The Four Marys was inescapably old fashioned, though I'm not sure I agree with the statement a manga (you know, those comics full of magical ninjas and killer notebooks) fan once made about it being "irrelevant" to modern children. Why are British comics, especially school and war stories, held up to more exacting standards than other forms of media? It's almost as if people are actively trying to find reasons to criticise and write them off.
More up to date was the other main Bunty story, The Comp. This was also a school story, but it was set in Redvale Comprehensive, a modern secondary school with characters that appeared to be forever in about year 8 (ages 12-13). Unlike The Four Marys, this was more of a soap opera with a story that kept on running. Different characters would be involved in different events, the beginnings and endings of which would overlap.
The attitudes of the girls atRedvale were also a bit more modern than The Four Marys. One Four Marys story involved them helping to clear a bully of a false charge that had been made against her. The girls of The Comp would probably just let her be expelled!
Another regular story, though it was sometimes temporarily replaced, was the photo-strip Luv, Lisa. This was also a soap-like story, but was told from the point of view of one girl, writing in her diary. She has an annoying little brother who keeps getting involved in noisy hobbies. There's also the usual crushes and bullies at school. Of course, it would have been better with illustrated artwork!
Bunty herself was also still there, no longer on the covers, but shoved on an inside page above some adverts (though to be fair, the old stories on the covers had large panels, and so were not very long). The artwork was also not as good as the old, painted version. In fact it often seems to have been drawn in a hurry.
In addition to the regular stories, there was a selection of serials on different themes which came and went. These usually got the black and white pages, though would occasionally have the first or last page in colour. Some would even be full colour, but it was rare – the colour printing was reserved for the regulars!
Haunted Hotel was about the daughter of a hotel owner who was the only one who could see the ghosts of the old owners (and guests!). The ghosts helped to foil criminals, warn the owners about how the guests felt and spark off romance. Typically bonkers British comic premise! This story appears in many of the issues I have, perhaps the characters had more than one "outing".
Oh Boy! is about a girl who dresses in boyish clothes, and who is picked to act a male part in a TV show after she moves to a new town. She has to hide her identity from the rest of the crew, for fear of being sacked. She also has to hide it from her parents, who wouldn't like it if they found out she was "lying". In the end she is found out – but the fact she'd been "acting" so well all along only helps her new career!
Top of The Class is one of the 'other' photo stories that appeared from time to time. This one is the "choose your true friends" dilemma that was long used in girl's school stories (and some boy's ones too!) right back into the twenties.
The Newcomers is an amusing story in the vein of Third Rock from the Sun (was that on in 1993?). It's about an alien family who come to study Earth, and need to try to blend in with human culture, with amusing results. In another part of the story they go on holiday, thinking the train is the hotel. They like the idea of a hotel that moves, so you always have a different view, but are quite put out to find you have to share it with a load of strangers!
In Pippa's Place is about two cousins of the same age, who were adopted by sisters. The sister who adopted Pippa becomes rich and successful, and the other girl, Penny, is jealous, because it could have been her adopted into a rich family. She starts to get Pippa into trouble by starting nasty rumours. As an aside, look at that hideously cheesy dialogue in the first panel! It's no wonder kids of that era were put off traditional comics, with characters speaking wooden lines that look more like they belong in a Viz parody.
The Price of Success is about Geraldine Price (cwatdeydidthar?), a girl who envies her friends with rich, successful parents. But then her own start a fashion business, which takes off in a big way. While her parents can now spend a lot of money on her, they're also busy all the time. In one episode she's assigned a homework project about recent history, but never has time to ask her parents about it, instead just getting a set of encylopaedias dumped on her. This is one of the 'other' serials which has every page in colour. In Pippa's Place and The Newcomers have black and white pages too.
Miss Popularity is about a girl who lands a dream job as a model in advertising, but everything she does is sabotaged by somebody, and she needs to work out who. A spoiled, jealous girl at her school is the prime suspect… but it probably turns out it was actually somebody else, a minor character only seen at the start of the story. Because it always is!
My Secret Sister is about girls who hate each other when they first meet, only for them to discover they are estranged twins! The 'lost' sister has had a rough life, shunted through children's homes and foster families, and so has a rather different outlook on life.
Forbidden Island is a mystery story that would not have been out of place in the 1940's, a girl is adopted by her Aunt and Uncle, who live in a big house with large grounds and an island, on which she spots mysterious lights. Of course, she's banned from going there so can't just row over and investigate. This story has some fantastic artwork, with some lovely countryside scenes.
"Achtung, vere are die Heinkels? I haff been signalling to zem for 50 years!"
A New Life for Lily is a Victorian orphan story, rendered with appropriate grime and squalor. Polly Bond is left to take care of her little sister Lily on her own, so decides to dump her on the doorstep of a well-off family. Four years later, she ends up working as a servant to that same family, and discovers a life of wealth has not improved her sister any.
Rock School is about some girls who start a rock band at their local school. Just like the Japanese anime K-On!, which began as a 4-panel joke strip, but was later adapted into a successful animated series (so successful that an impromptu 'shrine' to the series has been set up in the ex-school (now a library) that was used as art reference!). There was also a feature-length version of K-On! where the band goes to perform in London. I wonder if Rock School ends in the same way? At least it's not as far to go for these girls!
Mum Knows Best! is about a girl whose sister died as a baby, so her parents are over-protective. No doubt many girls in Bunty's apparent target age of 11-14 saw a reflection of themselves in the story.
Colouring seems a bit rushed on this one. Black and white story 'upgraded' at short notice?
Lessons from Lindy is about a quiet and shy girl who decides she wants to get noticed, so teams up with the worst rebel in the school. She becomes torn between her put-on rebellious attitude and her better nature. Interestingly, Lindy, the name of the rebel, is quite a rare and unusual name. But it was also the name of a short-lived IPC comic from 1974!
My School Chum Mum is about a girl's mum who gets reverted to her daughter's age, and has to pretend to be her cousin until the effects of the miracle anti-ageing cream wears off. Their nosy neighbor is always snooping around and making trouble, too.
Heartbreak House is a general haunted house story. A scary version of Haunted Hotel! Of course, as this is a British girl's comic, the ghost and her activities are only known to the main character, her parents think it's her causing all the trouble.
As well as the comic strips, there was a few feature pages. By this time most of the other girl's comics had either ended, or had become magazines that were almost all feature pages and very little, or no, comic strips. Bunty's letter's page was called Girl Talk, and tied in with a range of clothes, toys and stationary. I can remember seeing that logo EVERYWHERE when I was at primary school. I bet most of the girls didn't read Bunty, though.
This also had it's own short gag strips called "Girls Talking".
Another feature was "Design A Fashion", where readers would design clothes and send them in, to be drawn by "The Bunty Artist".
If some company had actually produced these, would you have worn them?
"The Bunty Artist", that phrase sums up everything that went wrong with British comics, doesn't it? The individual artists were reduced the status of one anonymous cipher, their hard work made to look worthless and without meaning. Imagine if the artists who drew this page every week were both named and rotated. Imagine if the girls sending their designs in were even able to choose their favourite artist to illustrate them. Imagine if the issues hyped this up, with "next week, our fashion page will be drawn by XY, artist of The Four Mary's". Not only would these anonymous toilers get the respect they deserved, it may even have helped to keep readers aboard, knowing that there was somebody out there whose job depended on their 45p.
Of course, attitudes to artist credits were far more enlightened 100 years previously, as I'll talk about in the next entry!
I live in a huge building site!
Starring YOU! is a page where readers send in information about themselves, and one is chosen to be featured. This is an interesting one, a girl who lives in Dubai. I should think a lot of British people had never heard of that city at the time!
Wonder if any of these girls, now grown up, will stumble upon this blog? XD
Pick a Pen Pal is a page where readers can exchange letters (using reference codes to begin with, they didn't go revealing the addresses of random children in that day and age… they left that sort of behavior to 1913!). Of course, if Bunty was still around today it would probably have it's own heavily-moderated Facebook-like social network instead.
There was the occasional feature where a girl gets to experience the world of work for a day, this one working as a volunteer in an Oxfam shop. Wish I could go back in time to that shop, I bet it had loads of adventure comic annuals from the 70's and 80's for less than a pound! In another of these features a girl got to work at a Burger King for a day, and helped a younger kid join the Kids Club, which I vaguely remember. Apparently it had it's own comic… where'd it all go wrong, eh?
"Eco Friendliness" comes and goes like a fad. People were mad on it in the early 90's, so Bunty started a "Green Scene" page, a mixture of puzzles, "eco" stuff like recycling and using CFC-free aerosols, and information about biology and botany. Look at that "Pet Protectors" logo, how 90's is that?
For one year they got to fill two pages of every fourth issue with a calendar. This one is interesting for featuring Will Smith as the star of a 'mere' sitcom, not the household-name Hollywood A-lister he would become only a few years later! More interestingly, from the point of view of this blog, is an ad The Beano Videostars, the second (of two) straight-to-video animated Beano cartoons. Later in the 90's we'd get the brilliant Dennis The Menace series, still far and away the best attempt at bringing The Beano to the screen!
The back covers of most issues have star pictures, most of the ones in my collection have been doodled on, like Take That at the top left XD. Here's a few names that you may still actually remember… though at the time, when I heard people talking about "Betty Boo", I thought they meant the 40's cartoon character! The eyes of this one are way more enchanting.
And finally, how's this for an Atlantic-spanning comic "crossover"?


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Dr. Seuss Enterprises tries to stop a parody of Who's Holiday before it even has a chance to take the stage.
The Tension Between Safety & Security
The conflict between Apple's objective to enhance data privacy and law enforcement's need for information reached a climax in the wake of the San Bernardino shooting.
Hyperlinking Chaos?!?! – The State of Hyperlinking Liability in the European Union and the United States
The Court of Justice of the EU's decision on hyperlinks creates liability for a communication to the public. The US laws generally allow more flexibility and do not create liability for hyperlinking.


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Stop Being a Control Freak
Many small business owners are control freaks who have a really hard time of letting go and letting someone else handle various tasks. This is especially true of self-made business owners who along with everyone else feel that if they let their assistant do things they will lose control. Additionally, they also feel like no one can do "it" whatever "it" is, as well as they can. But, in almost