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I have my Reliability Analysis and Structural Safety midterm in 5 hours. I'm sitting here in the library trying to concentrate! Haha, as you see not so successful in that. Wish me luck.
And seriously why is it that everytime that I have a test it gets sunny outside, just to make me feel more miserable?
Those of you familiar with Japanese cuisine may recognize this standard Miso Soup bowl, which boasts a diameter of 10 cm at the rim.
Date: May 17, 2012
Camera: Sony DSLR-A900
Exposure: 1/250 sec at f/2.2, ISO 320
Lens: 135mm F1.8 ZA at 135 mm
© 2012 Benjamin Torode
Resolutions:
1. Cut myself some slack
2. Don't let things I can't control control my happiness.
With a start of a new years comes some more self-analysis. I've realized that taking photos has become less fun for me because I'm trying to make everyone else happy. The amount I like a picture is being decided by all the wrong things and I'm done with it. So with a new year comes a new idea, I'm taking photos for me, and if you like them that's peachy, but my opinion is what matters the most to me.
It's been a while, but I'm gonna do my best to be consistent here.
I'm back from NY, so here's the first of likely many more to come.
Evening game as the sun sets... one nil up but now two one down! Defensive frailties are being discussed!
====GCPD====
"Jim, we came as soon as we could. What's the situation?"
"We've got a body in the Coventry district- vic's mistress found the body. Detective Driver from Major Crimes figured you might be interested..." Gordon says, handing him a set of photos.
"Judge Aickerman... He was one of the names on Grange's tapes."
"Yeah, that makes the fifth victim so far, all headshots, all-"
"Two shots to the head... Dent? You said there were others?"
"Here. All members of the Court, all names on Grange's list. And that doesn't even go into the mess in Arkham. 40 bodies recovered, all burnt beyond recognition, only thing identifiable-"
"Are the owl masks fused to their faces. Chemical analysis?"
"Make-up seems to match Lynns' portfolio, and the napalm there's a staple of Joey Rigger. And though I can't condone them, I can't blame them either. After Walker-"
Gordon trails off, and takes his cigarette out of his mouth- after Arkham, he'd relapsed, and looks at Batman's partner. Catwoman
"Well, I'm just glad to see you're on speaking terms again."
Bruce looks at him inquisitively
"Give me some credit, I am a detective too, you know."
...
"Don't worry, Jim, I'll find Dent, before they do."
====The Slab====
"Gar put you up to this, didn't he?"
No response... Drury sighed. He couldn't go anywhere these days without someone else tagging along, acting like his self important babysitters. He didn't much like Flannegan, not these days, not since he started to question things, question people. The man was cruel and irritable, and the only things he cared for were his rats, who he insisted be brought along with them on their flight. "Can't trust those Antarctic rats," he'd declared loudly at the airport, waving his government badge at the security guard trying to pry the rodent-filled suitcase away from him. Even now he was dodging questions, cigarette in mouth, his right hand stuffed in his pocket.
Drury had been to a lot of prisons; Blackgate, Arkham, Stryker's, even spent a night in Iron Heights. Slabside was a different breed entirely. Located in the middle of Antarctica, it's home to some of the world's worst criminals. Following the City of Fear incident, many of the Society's most dangerous member's were relocated here. Many still are. Doomsday. Mongul. Amazo. Just one of them free would be catastrophic, all of them, and even the Justice League might not stand a chance.
In one cell, a masked man punches the wall, blood spurting from his knuckles. With each punch his voice grows louder. "Pow. Pow. Pow." Drury takes one look at him, then hurries after Flannegan.
"Do I know you?" a timid voice asks. A frail man sits housed in the adjacent cell, fumbling with a broken clock.
Drury stared. His name is David Clinton. In this reality, he was never trapped in the void, in this reality he never had an epiphany of any kind, or really any original thought. But, in his cell, he knew there was something missing. A purpose. Memories that he shouldn't have flashed in his head regularly.
In one world, Drury knew him as Chronos, a sociopathic monster. But here, Clinton was just another C-Lister locked in a cage.
"Sir, we've got her down here," the guard said.
"Good," Drury muttered. "Good, I'll be there soon," passing by Chronos.
"Tick tock," the other man murmurs. "Tick tock."
Drury sat down in the visitor centre, a small, dark, smelly room. Opposite sat Marion Grange.
"What do you want?"
Grange shifted in her seat. "I heard about your wife, I want you to know that-"
"No. No, what do you want?"
She sighed. "I don't... I don't want to die. I want that on the record. Any record. I don't want to die."
"I travelled halfway across the world-!"
"Then you know I'm serious. They're coming. They're coming, and when they get here, they'll do whatever they can to make it look like an accident, a suicide."
"I don't-"
"They're going to kill me!" Grange yelled suddenly.
Drury shifted his eyes around the room, and in a harsh whisper asked "The Owls?"
Grange nodded.
"I needed you here, because I know you'll believe me. Because you know how- You know how dangerous they are."
"This is the most secure prison on the planet, they aren't getting in here."
"And what if they're already here? What if they've already bribed, extorted and blackmailed their way in?"
Drury paused. "You didn't bring me here to talk. Or to apologise. You wanted me here, so you'd have a human shield to hide behind. Didn't you?" Grange looks down at the desk, ashamed. "I'm sorry."
"I said, didn't you! My wife is dead. My brother was abducted, and one of my best friend's went missing two days ago."
A rat crawls into the room, and is scooped up by Flannegan. He whispers to it, then addresses Drury. "Shut it."
"Oh, he speaks!" Drury snapped at Flannegan.
"Let's talk about your screwed up little world some other time. Rodriguez just sent word. Someone's infiltrated the security systems."
"Who the hell's Rodriguez?!"
"The rat. Do keep up. Up you get, ma'am."
"Not now, Otis..." Drury murmured. "Did your... rat tell you who it is?"
"It's a rat, you idiot. Not the criminal database," he scowled, as he pulled a knife out of his sock and stormed out. "Oh, you again."
====Keystone City====
"Your turn, Rory. You were saying?"
"Right, right. Wit was ah aboot to say? Oh, aye. The auld guard! Scudder, Scudder wis a daft wee bampot who dragged Lisa doon wi' 'im. And dinnae get me started on that Top bastard. What a pretentious auld cunt he wis. Aw brains an no fookin' human decency..."
"-Don't forget about that Chillblaine loser," Mick muttered, as he put his lighter down.
"Och aye, Chillblaine tae. Ach, the poor lassie sure kent how ta choose 'em. As fer Piper-"
Mardon paused. "Piper? He's gay, McCulloch."
"Wit? The wee rat boy? He didnae ever come across as one a' them."
"One of them"? 'Hell does that mean?" Mick started.
"Ach, I dinnae mean nothing by it, Rory, I'm jus' saying. I mean, I cannae believe it. Hartley bloody Rathaway, and wit, Flannegan? They're a bloody couple?"
"When Flannegan feels like it, that is," Mardon added, checking his watch. "Snart was supposed to be here by now."
Rory growled.
"Oh, don't start," Mardon began.
"He comes and goes as he pleases," he snarls.
"Well, he's the big man, ain't he? He's allowed tae do that."
Mick slouches into his seat. "That's all well and good, I just wish we didn't have to work with *him* to do it."
McCulloch groans. "Aye, I hear ya, he makes Dillon sound like Girder."
As if on cue, a signature smug, booming voice calls out to the assembled trio. "Gentlemen, when is a door not a door?"
"Ach, that's fooking ancient that is..."
"When it's ajar..." Mardon sighed.
Riddler smiled, but he was clearly annoyed. "Quite. So tell me, which one of you three dimwitted numbskulls left the door open *this* time? Need I remind you the importance of what we're trying to accomplish here. If Bane were to discover-"
"Bane's all drugs and bravado. I could summon a hurricane in his gut, and suck his flunkies into a tornado."
"Ah, yes, because Kryptonians are well known for being easily sucked into tornados..."
McCulloch leaps out his chair. "Ach, fook this, ya think that because yer in good wit' Luthor yer better than us?"
"Hardly. I think I'm better than you, because I am."
====ACE Chemicals====
"Hello Charles. I apologise for the hostile greeting, but, you weren't coming quietly."
"That ring, those things, how did you-"
"All in good time, I assure you. Are you angry with me, Charles? You've every reason to be. Day betrayed you, Penguin betrayed you, Sionis too. And now, Mr Dent. All that hurt in so short a time... Any other man may have succumbed to violence, but not you. You're afraid. Afraid that if you were to retaliate, the consequences for your friends would be dire. Why those, those are powerful men. And Calendar Man, heh.
But what, what if something wasn't holding you back, what if you didn't have to be afraid? Fear, fear is what tells us no. Fear holds us back. It controls us, manipulates us. Fear is a weapon, harnessed by me, and harnessed by The Batman. It's funny, when I began this newest experiment of mine, Penguin commissioned me to deliver a weapon, a drug that could help his armies conquer fear, and thus, their enemies. The Court of Owls, The Batman, Joker if the need ever arose, without fear, they'd be easy marks, so he said. I hear he's in hiding now.
But, I never let a good toxin go to waste, and now, one year later, I have the answer! I can cure fear! It took various chemicals, some herbs in Blackfire's garden and the blood of a few murdered Talons, but I have my chemicals, and you will be my guinea pig."
"You could've had the pick of the city, why me?"
"Yes. Why you? Not even remotely special. Because, Charles, the fact is, you're a good man. You've got a moral compass, a strong one, you help people at every turn, even those who don't deserve it. You've never killed without remorse, not even that creature, Salinger, was it? I bet you grieved for days... For many men, the easiest path to breaking them, is fear. And it's gotten so... boring. Cliché. This time, I'll break you, and men of your ilk by destroying you, from the inside out." A yellow claw fills a nearby syringe with red liquid and hands it to a grinning Crane. "Shall we begin?"
by Azchael
China’s plastics machinery manufacturing industry 50 years from the 20th century produced the very first product considering that, right after nearly half a century, specially the rapid development because the reform and opening up, and now have constructed a complete variety,...
Read more about Status And Export Plastic Machinery Industry Analysis - China Sheet Metal Cabinet
(Source from Chinese Rapid Prototyping Blog)
Photo Analysis – "Bliss Dance" by ChatGPT
Concept and Intent
This image captures a monumental sculpture with a strong symbolic charge: Bliss Dance represents power, freedom, and feminine confidence.
The hand extended toward the viewer provides an emotional intensity, almost protective or affirming.
The clean background and vibrant sky contribute to a sense of elevation, lightness, and grandeur.
🔧 Technical Aspects
✔️ Focus and Sharpness:
Very well achieved. The sculpture's metal mesh is perfectly defined.
The textures of the material, even from a distance, are clear and sharp.
✔️ Exposure and Light:
Excellent exposure. Natural lighting favors transparency and soft shadows in the mesh.
The light highlights the shapes and gives volume to the sculpture.
✔️ Colors:
The deep blue of the sky creates a dramatic contrast with the light gray metallic tone of the sculpture.
The white nuances of the clouds add dynamism and visual balance.
Composition
Low-angle shot: Conveys grandeur and power. The female figure appears monumental and dominant.
Close framing: The sculpture is partially cropped, but strategically so. The framing reinforces the hand gesture and focuses on the face, inviting an emotional connection.
Rule of thirds: Well applied. The face is located near the upper right third, generating visual tension and elegance.
🎨 Style and aesthetics
Sculptural and minimalist, with no distracting elements. The clean background allows the statue to be the sole center of attention.
The use of the sky as a background reinforces the symbolic contrast between the human (the figure) and the ethereal (the sky).
⭐ Final rating: 9.2 / 10
Strengths:
Very thoughtful composition, excellent use of natural light and background.
Impeccable technique: perfect exposure, focus, contrast, and color.
Conveys emotion, strength, and symbolism.
Only aspect to consider:
If one were looking for a more complete view of the sculpture in its urban context, a wider shot could provide another narrative dimension. But as an artistic portrait, this choice is entirely valid.
City lights shine brighter during the holidays in the United States when compared with the rest of the year, as shown using a new analysis of daily data from the NASA-NOAA Suomi NPP satellite. Dark green pixels are areas where lights are 50 percent brighter, or more, during December.
Because snow reflects so much light, the researchers could only analyze snow-free cities. They focused on the U.S. West Coast from San Francisco and Los Angeles, and cities south of a rough imaginary line from St. Louis to Washington, D.C.
Credit: Jesse Allen, NASA’s Earth Observatory
Read more: www.nasa.gov/content/goddard/satellite-sees-holiday-light....NASA image use policy.
NASA Goddard Space Flight Center enables NASA’s mission through four scientific endeavors: Earth Science, Heliophysics, Solar System Exploration, and Astrophysics. Goddard plays a leading role in NASA’s accomplishments by contributing compelling scientific knowledge to advance the Agency’s mission.
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Gustave Flaubert to Louise Colet
Croisset, midnight, 8-9 August [1846]
"My deplorable mania for analysis exhausts me. I doubt everything, even my doubt. You thought me young, and I am old. I often spoke with old people about the pleasures of this earth, and I have always been astonished by the brightness that comes into their lackluster eyes; just as they could never get over their amazement at my way of life, and keep saying 'At your age! At your age! You! You!' Take away my nervous exaltation, my fantasy of mind. the emotion of the moment. and I have little left. That's what I am underneath. I was not made to enjoy life. You must not take these words in a down- to- earth sense, but rather grasp their metaphysical intensity. I keep telling myself that I'll bring you misfortune, that were it not for me your life would have continued undisturbed, that the day will come that we shall part (and I protest in advance). Then the nausea of life rises to my lips, and I feel immeasurable self-disgust and a wholly Christian tenderness for you.
At other times - yesterday, for example, when I had sealed my letter - the thought of you sings, smiles, shines, and dances like a joyous fire that gives out a thousand colours and penetrating warmth. I keep remembering the graceful, charming, provocative movement of your mouth when you speak - that rosy, moist mouth that calls forth kisses and sucks them irresistibly in. What a good idea I had, to take your slippers. If you knew how I keep looking at them! The bloodstains are fading: is that their fault? We shall do the same: one year, two years, six, what does it matter? Everything measurable passes, everything that can be counted has an end. Only three things are infinite: the sky in its stars, the sea in its drops of water; and the heart in its tears. Only in that capacity is the heart large; everything else about it is small. Am I lying? Think, try to be calm. One or two shreds of happiness fill it to overflowing, whereas it has room for all the miseries of mankind.
By the way, - so we'll christen the blue dress together. I'll arrive some evening about six. We'll set the night ablaze! I'll be your desire, you'll be mine, and we'll gorge ourselves on each other to see whether we can be satiated. Never! No, never! Your heart is an exhaustible spring, you let me drink deep. it floods me, penetrates me, I drown. Oh! The beauty of your face, all pale and quivering under my kisses! But how cold I was! I did nothing but look at you; I was surprised, charmed. If I had you here now... Come, I'll take another look at your slippers. They are something I'll never give up; I think I love them as much as I do you. Whoever made them, little suspected how my hands would tremble When I touch them. I breathe their perfume, they smell of verbena - and of you in a way that makes my heart swell.
Adieu, my life, adieu my love, a thousand kisses everywhere. Phidias has only to write, and I will come. Next winter there will no longer be any way for us to see other, but if Phidias writes between now and the beginning of the winter I'll come to Paris for at least three weeks. Adieu, I kiss you in the place where I will kiss you, where I want to; I put my mouth there, je me roul sur toi, mille braisers. Oh! donne-m'en, donne-m'en!"
Boards Of Canada
Book :
Xavier Veilhan
1999 - 2009
JRP I Ringier
2009
CD :
The Sea And Cake
The Moonlight Butterfly
Thrill Jockey
THRILL278
Recorded and Mixed by John McEntire
Drawing by Eric Claridge
Design by Archer Prewitt Sam Prekop & Sheila Sachs
iTunes :
Shuttle358
Understanding Wildlife
Mille Plateaux
MP115
Sir GMAttenborough ...
[Necremnus Thomson 1878: 33 (IT: 8) spp]
The genus Necremnus is very difficult to study because of the large intraspecific variability of many diagnostic traits.
REFERENCES
J.M. Heraty & J.B. Woolley 2025: Chalcidoidea of the world.
A. Cruaud & al. 2022: Chalcidoidea phylogeny.
Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive.
When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again.
When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.
(Antoine de Saint Exupéry)
Not much to add to this, except maybe, why Saint Exupéry TODAY (tonight) and here!?!
EVERYBODY must know the book LE PETIT PRINCE... if you don't; let me know and I'll organise the library bus to bring you a copy!!!
I have read and re-read this little booklet in German, French, English and most likely even in Italian - it's easy to understand and it contains 'stuff' to re-think for ages.... it's subtly bringing facts of life to the point and it is so lovingly written that you can't hold anything against the writer - even if you sometimes might want to! It is - in short - probably the most lovable book anybody can find.
After having bought copies of a very beautiful CD, read by Will Quadflieg (in German) for my nearly blind mother, my little sister and the children of my bros-in-law, I got a copy of my gift sent back to me by little sis..... and after a very long time I have inserted it in the car CD player, where I listen to it on my way to .... somewhere! It made me aware once again how absolutely wonderful this aviator and writer is expressing himself in his work.
These four-leaf-clovers are my latest pride and joy. The make lovely red flowers and if you care to stroll down in the comments, you'll find more close-up shots of those little darlings. I wish all of you who still live through Thursday, A HAPPY GORGEOUS GREEN THURSDAY and to the rest of us a BEAUTIFUL GREEN FRIDAY!
For the shutter sisters: Hello..... (sunshine, morning, night, happiness, smiles!)
Good night, little princesses, little princes - sleep tight!
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