Day six of my captivity. I'm outta here. All mission related duties have been completed and fairly well executed...
Now for the cross country break. If I can only cross the state lines while avoiding the retrieval parties and keep from arousing any suspicion on the part of my co-travelers.
Day 4 of my captivity. I am currently in the midst of bust out plan phi beta k. 57-9. The two small shields have just begun to succumb to the drops I put in their milk cups earlier. Further plans are almost ready to place in action. Back at the cell, things are beginning to look grim. With supplies trickling to a halt, had to survive today on only the meager portions of this...
Oddly enough, spent my evening with a six-foot-tall guy in pointy shoes that likes to eat syrup with spaghetti. (Buddy the elf, what's your favorite color?!?)
Day 3 of my captivity. Basic supplies beginning to run low. I'm afraid I'll have to go on strictest of rationing regimes. Just scraped the last of the hardened peanut butter from around the edges of the jar. Just enough sugar left for one more cup of hot tea. Found a stash of several jars of jelly, but plans for tea-sweetening created several small explosions. It's mere luck captors did not investigate the holes in the smaller room's floor . Plans in the make to endure chewing on tea bags. However, first implementing trials for sweetening with eggnog. Even if successful, only two cough drops left to dissolve in the mixture. Control of the coughing fits will then fall to the experimental method of swallowing teaspoons of vegetable oil to soothe the lacerations. The chill seeping into my holding facility is beginning to create severe signs of synovial chondromatosis. Begin today carving rudimentary crutches from headboard. No signs of either holders or other holdees, though sounds come through the ceiling and walls. Appears to be some kind of extreme, joint or large group, laughter-related interrogation technique. The incessant slamming of doors during normal sleeping hours I suspect to be a sleep-deprivation tactic. I refuse to let them win. I've begun depriving my own sleep instead to regain control. Primary mission still remains unfinished, although I continue to work on the plans and statistics remaining in my own consciousness. Supplementing those with any material I can find laying around the internet. I've also taken to singing loudly to myself to stave off the voices. Their whispering gets louder each day. They don't seem to have very valid ideas. Hence the current state of the east wall. I make another fling at freedom tomorrow night at 1840. Entirely different strategist this time. Details still highly classified, but I have strong hopes that using small children as a shield is one of the voices' best plans yet. Here's believing that next entry will be entered from somewhere out in the great wide world. Eyes are beginning to burn from scratching away in the poor light. Captive 1/03, over and out.
~ I certainly did not stay up until six thirty cramming for an exam that I did not almost miss due to my face being implanted in my keyboard.
~ There is no earthly way I would ever contemplate knocking another student out, taking their keys, saying "Take this Chem course and call someone who cares" and hightailing it for home for Christmas.
~ I would never dream of thinking of taking a plastic bow and arrow into a public tech college finance department and hurling sticky arrows at people's heads.
~ I have not been horrendously obnoxious to the student I am tutoring to try to get faster work out of them. :) Not me...
~ I did not get myself hooked on a new show right before I knew a time was coming that I wouldn't be able to keep up with it faithfully.
~ I am, of course, NOT in withdrawals over it either...
~ I am not contemplating hitting the person in the face that finds it necessary to not only invade my library table, but also to hum, loudly.
~~~
The king of a small African nation had an elegant golden throne in his large grass hut. When an old friend came to visit from another nation, he was worried that the man would discover he was a king and treat him differently. He searched frantically for a place to hide the throne, but to no avail. Finally, he decided to have it wedged up in the ceiling of his hut. When his friend arrived, he went to the hut's opening to greet him. Just then the ceiling started to give way, and the golden throne fell on the king, killing him. The moral of the story is this: People who live in grass houses should not stow thrones.
Robin Hood and Maid Marian star in the Highwayman by Loreena McKennit. Original poem by Alfred Noyes.
The Highwayman (abridged version) The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding, Riding, riding, The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin, A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin. They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh! And he rode with a jewelled twinkle, His pistol butts a-twinkle, His rapier hilts a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
And over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard. And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred. He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter, Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
"One kiss my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light; If they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by the moonlight, Watch for me be the moonlight, I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand, But she loosened her hair i' the casement. His face burnt like a brand As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast; And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, (Oh, sweet waves in the moonlight!) He tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.
He did not come at the dawning. He did not come at noon; And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon, When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor, A red-coat troop came marching, Marching, marching, King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.
They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead. But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed. Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side! There was death at every window; Hell at one dark window; For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest. They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast! "Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say- 'Look for me by the moonlight; Watch for me by the moonlight; I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way!'
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good! She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood! They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like
years, Till, now, on the stroke of midnight, Cold on the stroke of midnight, The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!
'Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot!' Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear; 'Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot,' in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding, Riding, riding! The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still.
'Tlot-tlot,' in the frosty silence! 'Tlot-tlot,' in the echoing night! Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light. Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath, Then her finger moved in the moonlight, Her musket shattered the moonlight, Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death.
He turned; He spurred to the west; he did not know she stood Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood! Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear How Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black-eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
And back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky, With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high. Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat; When they shot him down on the highway, Down like a dog on the highway, And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
'Still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, A highwayman comes riding, Riding, Riding, A highwayman comes riding, up to the old in-door.
Go Here... Not On DVD... and vote for any of the top 200 classic films that you would like to be released on dvd for the public.
I had quite a few that I put in my two cents worth on. They take the top voted title (every how-ever-long) and send it to their distributor to be put into production for sale.
Do your part to keep the classic screen gems in circulation...
She makes me crazy She makes me smile Gonna let her have my heart For a while
She's got me dreaming 'bout what could be Something in her touch Brings out the best of me
Could this be love Too soon to say Maybe just friends, I don't know, either way I want this to be
CHORUS: A sacred moment in her life Guard her heart and treat her right There may come a day When she's someone else's wife If she's not mine to have and hold May this time we share be known as A sacred moment
She keeps me praying Lead me Lord Don't wanna say and do things I'll be sorry for God show the way To live out Your love Strengthen her faith, be a man she can trust I want this to be
CHORUS
Till the true love of my life takes my name Whoever's hand I get to hold My prayer will be the same
There is a high possibility that my life is having a possible overload.
~~~
Thanatopsis
by William Cullen Bryant
To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And gentle sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;-- Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around-- Earth and her waters, and the depths of air,-- Comes a still voice--Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean shall exist Thy image. Earth, that hourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolv'd to earth again; And, lost each human trace, surrend'ring up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements, To be a brother to th' insensible rock And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. Yet not to thy eternal resting place Shalt thou retire alone--nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down , With patriarchs of the infant world--with kings The powerful of the earth--the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre.--The hills Rock-ribb'd and ancient as the sun,--the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The vernal woods--rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and pour'd round all, Old ocean's grey and melancholy waste,-- Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.--Take the wings Of morning--and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lost thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings--yet--the dead are there, And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep--the dead reign there alone.-- So shalt thou rest--and what if thou shalt fall Unnoticed by the living--and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh, When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come, And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages glide away, the sons of men, The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes In the full strength of years, matron, and maid, The bow'd with age, the infant in the smiles And beauty of its innocent age cut off,-- Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but sustain'd and sooth'd By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. ~1814~
"It'll all come to tears in the end, I just know it."
~~~
Concerns about Dangers from Swine Flu Vaccine Grow
(NaturalNews) Concerns about the safety of the H1N1 vaccine continue to grow as the government rushes to bring the vaccine to market. The FDA usually requires rigorous testing of any new drug, but concerns about the H1N1 pandemic has sped the vaccine through the channels without the same clinical testing as other vaccines. Even health care workers are concerned, as they are the first ones to receive the swine flu vaccine and will, in effect, be human guinea pigs.
A Health Workers March on Albany has been scheduled to protest the mandatory swine flu vaccination of nurses; it was reported in Newsday. Many face the loss of their jobs if they refuse the vaccination.
Mercury poisoning is one of the concerns about any vaccination, but in recent years the additive, thimerosal, which contains mercury, has been removed from most vaccines. However, the H1N1 flu shot still contains a high level of mercury and this alone is a concern for children, pregnant women, and the elderly -- the very populations who are being encouraged to take the swine flu shot.
Squalene is another additive used in vaccines that is a concern. Squalene was an additive in the vaccine given to Gulf War soldiers and is now known to be one of the causes of Gulf War Syndrome. Even the government, who approved the use of squalene in the vaccines, has admitted that it was one of the causes of the vets' illness.
Side-effects from the H1N1 flu shot are another concern. The vaccine for the Avian flu caused a rare neurological disorder, Guillain-Barre syndrome and death.
One third of health care professionals are refusing to take the H1N1 vaccine, according to polls in both the US and England. Another third is unsure, leaving only one third of the health care professionals supporting the H1N1 vaccine. President Obama has stated that the H1N1 vaccine will be voluntary, but companies and hospitals are acting otherwise, and against the interests of their employees and medical staff.
Both Ireland and Greece have said that they will fine and imprison those who refuse to be vaccinated.
A recent article in Reuters reported that "adverse event reports" are expected by the public health departments after the swine flu vaccine is administered, including one million heart attacks, 700,000 strokes and 900,000 miscarriages.
The FDA is charged with protecting the American people from unsafe drugs. Their intention to speed the swine flu vaccine into production has caused concern about the safety of the new drug. Until these questions are addressed, the health benefits of the swine flu vaccine remain under suspicion.
Traditional Plant Medicine Could Cure H1N1 Flu Virus, Chinese Scientists Find
(NaturalNews) The government's pro-vaccine push and the mainstream media's near hysteria over the increased number of H1N1 (swine flu) cases can leave some people feeling almost helpless. After all, there are reports that anti-virus drugs like Tamiflu don't always work (and are known to have horrendous side effects), and no one can truly say the barely-tested flu vaccine has in any way been proven safe or effective. But what is overlooked by mainstream news and most of the medical community is that a host of natural therapies exist that can help the body fight off infections. And now Chinese scientists have documented that an ancient plant remedy for flu appears to offer a knock-out punch to the dreaded H1N1 virus.
Researchers from Kaohsiung Medical University and the China Medical University have analyzed the roots of a plant called Ferula assa-foetida (F. assa-foetida, for short) because it was used a century ago as a traditional medicine to fight the great 1918 Spanish influenza outbreak -- that pandemic killed between 20 to 100 million people. There were reports the traditional plant medicine was effective but no one had documented the plant's antiviral compounds, until now.
More powerful than prescription antiviral drugs
In a study published in the September 25th issue of the American Chemical Society's (ACS) Journal of Natural Product, scientists Fang-Rong Chang and Yang-Chang Wu reveal that in lab experiments Ferula assa-foetida exhibits a remarkable ability to kill the H1N1 swine flu virus.
In their study, Chang and Wu identified a group of chemical compounds in extracts of the plant that turned out to be far more potent against influenza A (H1N1) than a prescription antiviral drug available for the flu. "A standardized plant extract of F. assa-foetida, a species that has been used to treat influenza for many years, may also be worthy of being further investigated as a new phytomedicine," the authors write.
The scientists also noted that the roots of F. assa-foetida have been used for centuries in folk medicine as a natural anti-cancer treatment, antibiotic, diuretic, antispasmodic treatment and more. The plant, which grows mainly in Iran, Afghanistan and mainland China, reportedly tastes much like onions when it is cooked. When raw, the sap of the Ferula assa-foetida has such a bad smell that sometimes it is called the "Dung of the Devil" plant.
Influenza virus vaccine works by exposing you to a small dose of the virus, which helps your body to develop immunity to the disease. Influenza virus vaccine will not treat an active infection that has already developed in the body.
...
What should I discuss with my healthcare provider before receiving this vaccine?
Do not receive this vaccine if you have ever had an allergic reaction to a flu vaccine, or if you have:
an active or uncontrolled neurologic disorder(such as Parkinson's disease, Alzheimer's disease, or epilepsy);
All are potentially fatal. Some we have limited treatment for. There are even some we have little or none for. Yet you never hear of hysteria in the news telling us we are all going to die from our bunny rabbits or polo ponies. I am fairly certain you would hear some big stink raised if you were to tell the population to begin getting rid of all their pets.
~~~
Lastly, I'd just like to vent somethin' here. I am an adult. I am a person. My body is my own and God's business. My conviction thereof are my concern. Yours are your own. Let us keep our proper focus. I am fine with your news program pushing the world to get a vaccine, but the very second you make it mandatory, my name needs to be on the contentious objector lists. If you are sold on conventional medications, bully for you, but I believe we are creating as many diseases as we treat. If you are pumped on pumping your body full of drugs and synthesized concoctions, more power to you, but I am persuaded that God gave us the ability to make medicines and doctor ourselves with nature and diet. And don't get me wrong either, I am not completely against doctors and medicine. If I were, I would never have met Rama. And where would my life be with out him? I am in complete awe of what God has allowed us to discover in the medical field. But again... the issue is... stop pushing me to be... what I am not...
And, No, you don't have to tell me that there are, maybe, eight to ten people in the world that are even remotely sympathetic with my point of view.
But, please, do me the courtesy of not belittling me or my standards.
I am twenty five years old. I make every decision regarding my life and future. I take everything to prayer. I seek wise counsel and go to an advisor if I find my level of experience is insufficient. This is what makes an adult... AN ADULT.
I am not planning on getting the flu shot in the near or distant future. I am not planning on going on a preventive antibiotic. And, I am certainly not planning on either, one: stopping current very necessary prescriptions to insure no drug interactions while on said antibiotic, nor am I, Two: planning on travelling fourteen hours to my doctor every three days to monitor for drug interaction. I am not planning on changing any of my other current medical precautions that I always take while I am in this hotbed of hypochondria and bacterium. Even without the hype that is out and about now, I am on a way more exhaustive regime of preventive diet, vitamins and minerals than most people even remember anymore, if they ever knew existed in the first place.
Besides, I figure dying is easier, faster, less trouble and way more fun.
How dare they make secret plans with secret people to leave secret packages outside my secret door with the secret contents being only exactly what is secretly my favorite secret confectionery concoction in the entire world?
Unacceptable. Utterly and completely.
Someone is lucky they aren't here right now because there would be some music to face. And they might not be able to breath due to being squeezed or be able to hear due to me yellin in excitement. (Plus it's too late, or early, for me to be yellin.)
I very nearly called Someone and woke them up when I got back to my apartment at one something in the morning, so Someone (I know you are reading this...) had better be glad that I decided to eat a Petit Four instead.
But I know who it was...
And I know who the co-conspirator was... (Thank you, by the way.)
Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins, just you wait.
I'll get you, and your little dog too. (Maybe you should go buy a dog.)
And here I was all worried about what big scary plans were afoot. *Sigh* I think me and my little box are just gonna curl up in a comfy chair with some iced cold milk for the rest of the week.
~~~
