View allAll Photos Tagged systems."-James

These desert trees have long root systems that seek out any available water. With erosion taking away the soil cover, this tree will not survive much longer.

Wechselladerfahrzeug der BF Nürnberg mit dem Abrollbehälter (AB) Hytrans zur Wasserversorgung

ZB137 BAE Systems Hawk Mk.167 on a test flight at Warton 21/1/22.

This aircraft is destined for the Qatar Air Force.

Aberkenfig, South Wales

Lat +51.542 Long -3.593

 

Skywatcher 254mm Newtonian Reflector, Tal 2x Barlow Lens, ZWO ASI 120MC Imager. Captured using Firecapture

 

Processed with Registax 6 & G.I.M.P.

 

Another page from my observations log book

The second and final qualification motor (QM-2) test for the Space Launch System’s booster is seen, Tuesday, June 28, 2016, at Orbital ATK Propulsion Systems test facilities in Promontory, Utah. During the Space Launch System flight the boosters will provide more than 75 percent of the thrust needed to escape the gravitational pull of the Earth. via NASA ift.tt/291UFD7

China, Feb. 2002 (scanned slide)

Space Engineers (dev)

Chessie System car named WEST VIRGINIA at about Roosevelt Road in Chicago, Illinois on an unknown day in July 1982, Ektachrome by Chuck Zeiler. On the door it was stenciled: C&O CSC-10 . One source indicates this car was built in 1952 by the Saint Louis Car Company as U. S. Army Ambulance Car 89545, later WVa RR Maintenance Authority 89545, then the 1978 Chessie Steam Special / Safety Express crew dormitory car.

Title:

Silence.

  

Bā™­ (B Flat)

A Novel by Mitsushiro Nakagawa

 

ę—„ęœ¬čŖžć®ć‚ć‚‰ć™ć˜ē­‰ćÆäø‹ć®ę–¹ć«ć‚ć‚Šć¾ć™šŸ˜ƒ

äø€éƒØåˆ†ć®å…¬é–‹ć‚’ę›“ę–°ć—ć¾ć—ćŸć€‚ä»Šå›žćŒęœ€å¾Œć§ć™šŸ˜ƒ

 

ā€œSynopsisā€

 

A Palestinian group from Gaza hacks into North Korea’s cryptocurrency system, stealing hundreds of millions of dollars. Their true goal is not money—but to recreate the lost homeland of Gaza on American soil.

Amid the backdrop of hardline Republican immigration policies and a growing wave of xenophobia, a quiet plan begins to take shape: the gradual collapse of America from within.

During a speech at Madison Square Garden, Republican presidential candidate Justin Bradford is shot. Almost simultaneously in Los Angeles, former president Owen Reed is attacked at a rally for Democratic hopeful Ryan Bennett.

Two assassinations—mirroring one another—ignite a nation’s deepest divide. Yet, against all odds, Justin survives. His blood type is one in 2.5 million: the Bombay Blood Group.

The only person who can donate such blood is Anaya Patel, a community art facilitator working in Brooklyn. Her blood, stored in the Bellevue Hospital Blood Bank, is used for an emergency transfusion that saves the candidate’s life.

Jack Vance, an agent of the U.S. Secret Service, suspects a Gaza-based network behind the attacks. Together with Cameron Bartlett, the FBI Director of the Los Angeles Field Office, and Veronica Reeves, a senior investigator from New York, he begins to uncover a vast conspiracy.

Their investigation leads them to Rafi Gannam, a former architecture student at the Islamic University of Gaza, who has infiltrated redevelopment sites across Los Angeles and New York—embedding C4 explosives deep within beams and structural cores.

His targets: new residential districts where agents of ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) and ERO (Enforcement and Removal Operations) live—symbols of ā€œthe order America built.ā€

Veronica urges the President to pursue dialogue to prevent further destruction, but President Grant M. Ranford refuses to listen.

Meanwhile, the recovering Justin and his Democratic rival Ryan appear on national television, calling for unity beyond political divisions.

Their words of reason, however, are drowned out when Grant takes the stage in Iowa, defiantly declaring: ā€œWe will never bow to terror.ā€

Among the crowd, Rafi’s operatives have already taken their positions.

As chaos erupts and the stage collapses, Amir Nasser—once Rafi’s comrade, haunted by the memory of his sister’s death in Gaza—tries desperately to halt the chain of destruction.

But Rafi’s conviction remains unshaken.

Under the twilight beneath the Williamsburg Bridge, amid the city’s fading noise, the two men part ways.

It is the boundary between prayer and vengeance, between hope and nothingness.

  

ā€œCharactersā€

 

Anaya Patel – 25, Community Art Facilitator

Arjun Singh – 26, Anaya’s boyfriend, Luminatech Innovations

Mika Sato – 25, Anaya’s friend, Community Art Facilitator

 

Justin Bradford – 27, Republican Presidential Candidate

Eleanor Blake – 26, Justin’s fiancĆ©e

 

President Grant M. Langford – 61, Incumbent Republican President

Vice President Charles ā€œChuckā€ Baines – 64, Incumbent Republican Vice President

 

Ryan Bennett – 30, Democratic Presidential Candidate

Sophia Bennett – 30, Ryan’s wife

Owen Reed – 65, Former Democratic President

 

Jack Vance – 45, Secret Service, Former FBI Los Angeles Field Office

Ben Holloway – 30, Jack’s colleague

Darryl Ross – 29, Jack’s colleague

Elijah Kane – 28, Jack’s colleague

 

Marcus Dane – 45, FBI Los Angeles Field Office

Cameron Bartlett – 55, FBI Los Angeles Field Office, Field Office Director

Tom Caldwell – 38, FBI Technical Unit, Marcus’s subordinate

 

Veronica Reeves – 41, FBI Special Agent

Alexander Harris – 52, FBI New York Field Office, Field Office Director

Elliot Chen – 36, Technology Unit Chief

Alicia Monroe – 58, FBI Director

 

Zakaria Haddad – 51, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Former Islamic University Engineering Professor, New York Team

Amir Nasser – 23, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Former Islamic University Electronics Engineering, New York Team

Rafi Gannam – 32, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Islamic University, Architecture, New York Team

Rohan Shah – 29, Gaza Strip, Palestine; Islamic University, Architecture, New York Team

 

Majid Hamza – 47, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Information Technology, Los Angeles Team

Samira Hammad – 28, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Engineering, Los Angeles Team

Saeed Kabari – 35, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Business Administration, Los Angeles Team

Reem Nasser – 30, Gaza Strip, Palestine; University of Palestine, Media Studies, Los Angeles Team

 

Noah Levi – 55, Israel, residing in Tel Aviv, Jewish

  

Bā™­ will be released worldwide on February 29, 2026.

Recently, director Ridley Scott remarked that streaming films and series have become dull.

I agree.

If you have two hours to spare for such stories, I ask for only two minutes of your time.

Two minutes with my novel will outlast those two hours.

I am confident of that.

  

Stay tuned.

Mitsushiro

October 9th, 2025

 

P.S.

Micchan — the man who challenges Netflix. 😃

  

( iPhone 13 Pro shot )

 

Motosuka Beach. Kujukuri Beach. Sanmu City. Chiba Prefecture. Japan. October 9, 2025. … 0.9 / 10

(Photo of the day. Unpublished.)

  

Images.

Taylor Swift … This Love

youtu.be/PfJzQuqWSSE?si=TrtL4Mb-uN2dNmML

  

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++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

🌟 My New Novel: "Bā™­" (B Flat)

 

This is the 20th installment! šŸ˜„

The following is still in the first draft stage. I will revise it further.

•The order of the content being shared is random.

•This will be the final time I share partial excerpts.

 

The full novel will be released on February 28, 2026.

Please look forward to it! 😃

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  

My new novel

Bā™­ (B Flat)

 

English translation by GPT-5, in collaboration with Mitsushiro Nakagawa

 

ā€œJack, look at your phone. Another message just came through. The IP address traces to a branch of the New York Public Library near Grand Central — via the Stavros Niarchos Foundation.ā€

It was a FaceTime from Ben. He was standing by in the NYPD Midtown South command post just beside the Garden. Despite everything that was happening, Ben’s voice was calm.

Jack slid his finger across his iPhone and read the short line that appeared. The characters lay down carelessly, yet somehow they gave the sentence a shape.

— There’s an arched ceiling in the underground concourse of Grand Central. Come there. Jack Vance. And don’t come alone — though, of course, you won’t be alone. —

The message struck at the inside of Jack’s chest like a ringing.

The car threaded north along Vanderbilt Avenue and came up at the southern lip of Grand Central. The city had not quite woken; the damp that hid in the canyon between buildings carried the metallic smell of morning. Jack let off the gas and eased the black SUV to the curb, almost sliding it along. As the tires brushed the edge of the pavement, the remaining beads of rain on the road leapt up into streaks of light.

He pushed open the heavy door and stepped out. His shoes hit the cobbles a beat later. Once he turned to look down the street behind him, the red reflection of a siren flashed through a shop window and briefly lit the faces of passersby, whitening them for a single instant.

Weaving through that cut of light, Jack made for the stairs that led down to the concourse. The service door groaned with a slight metallic protest. Inside, a low hum, like the breathing of a subway, filled the space. A cold breath struck his cheeks, and from the depths of the HVAC ducts a distant station announcement blurred toward him.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Jack took the stairs of Grand Central two at a time. The amber lighting flowed across his soles; his footsteps linked together like the heartbeat of the terminal.

The iron handrail was cold, passing a faint tremor into his fingertips. From far down the stairs other footsteps layered over one another, keeping an old rhythm that led downward. The arched ceiling drew the air in gently; the lights spread a thin film of glow.

The concourse smelled of damp; the old brick walls seemed unable to forget past rains and exhaled them faintly. The floor tiles were dulled by years of feet; hairline cracks ran through them, where little memories of the city had gathered. Jack walked without attending to these things. His gaze was naturally drawn to the darkness at the far end of the corridor. The usual stream of commuters hurried past.

Weathered signs and bulletin boards clung to the walls like pillows for torn flyers. A cleaner dragged her mop in a single ribbon; beyond it, a lone bench sat as if sketching a pale loneliness.

The air that moved through the passage felt to Jack like the slow pulse of a city’s vein. He felt his breath fall into the same beat and kept walking.

Light touched the tiles at his feet and shadows stretched and swayed. The faint metallic noise of an escalator sounded somewhere far away; the gust from the stairs cooled the heat that had gathered in his body. The scent of the city, the underground damp, and the faint warmth of old lamps mixed; time began to melt slowly.

Stopping, Jack rubbed his palms and let his eyes roam. The hum all around carried a peculiar echo that blurred one’s sense of direction. He told himself he was only looking for ā€œit,ā€ somewhere in the concourse.

As he moved again, a high metallic scrape suddenly sliced the air. His neck muscles twitched and a tautness ran through the soles of his feet. Reflexively he froze; at the edge of his vision a receiver quivered.

Its cord, knotted with the weight of years, twisted; dusty metal glinted dully. A telephone that should have been unused rang out abruptly, like a festival bell — an alien note within the city’s hush. The sound was low but it made the air itself tremble.

Jack turned to it slowly. The heavy underground air seemed to press against the backs of his knees. All he heard was his own breathing and the faint vibration of the receiver. People flowed past as if nothing had happened: a mother led a child by the hand, an old man refolded his newspaper and tucked it under his arm, and moved on.

The receiver was calling to Jack. The call came from a tear in silence, spreading slowly like ink trembling on the reverse side of an old map. He reached out without speaking and picked up the handset. The metal was cold; that cold dropped reality onto his palm.

ā€œā€¦Jack.ā€

The voice was low but distinct. Its timbre made time seem to slip backward just a touch. He recognized the voice from online footage; yet unlike the voice heard on television, here it carried not a blade but the color of a distant sunset.

Through the receiver Jack felt the corridor’s edges, the bench’s solitude, the small scrap of paper on the floor trickle into the pauses of the conversation. The voice let the city’s details slide in through the window of speech.

ā€œWhat’s up, Amir? Sounding a little low.ā€ Jack’s voice was quiet and heavy, like a stone dropped to ground. Through the handset he heard Amir’s small nasal laugh.

ā€œSometimes you get down — you’re only human.ā€

The voice was calm and remote. It was not the public mask Amir sometimes wore, but something honed in shadow. During the call the brief chatter of a passing parent and child snapped into the line and then was gone.

ā€œListen carefully to what I’m going to say. Well, you’re probably recording.ā€

ā€œLikewise,ā€ Jack replied.

Amir’s words fell smoothly through the receiver, making tiny ripples on the tiled floor of the underground. The noise around them blurred once and then resolved again: the mother’s footsteps, the mop’s scrape, the distant clink of a vending machine — all intersecting with the rhythm of speech.

ā€œI’m out of the team. The reason? I don’t want to watch more people die. That’s it.ā€

Jack felt the receiver’s pulse under his fingers. The voice tried on calm but Jack could hear a tremor beneath. The lights in the concourse blurred slightly with each of Amir’s sentences.

ā€œAre you asking me to believe that? Your professor Zakaria says don’t talk like that — he went out in a big way.ā€ Amir fell silent and let out an exhale that sounded like a laugh as if to shrug something off. At the corridor’s edge a child sucking on candy made a tiny wet sound that filled the space between words.

ā€œSo what now? Heartbroken?ā€ Jack asked.

ā€œSomething like that. This detonator will destroy many buildings yet.ā€

That phrase punched through the little room inside the receiver. For an instant the light underground clouded faintly. Yet the corridor moved on as always; no one turned. The anomaly existed only in sound.

ā€œTell me exactly where, how many, what mechanism — brief. Don’t mix in jokes.ā€ Jack’s tone chilled like ice cracking. Amir tried to explain calmly, but Jack listened more to the weight behind the words than to their particulars. In the pauses, the phone booth’s shadow stretched and traced a thin black groove across the floor.

ā€œWe weren’t trained terrorists, not professionals. The information was distributed piece by piece. Think of how betrayal would happen — like how I can call you now.ā€ Amir’s voice was careful; not fearful. Jack pressed the receiver to his ear and felt the city’s everyday noises woven into the fabric of the explanation. An old woman adjusting her bag at the corridor’s edge, the faint opening of a shutter somewhere distant — the beginnings of small workdays.

ā€œWe infiltrated about five years ago. We planted C4 in the core of buildings that were being built then. Rafi studied architecture, so he knew where to place it. You’ve seen the collapse a million times online, you know how it looks. To detonate, you need an old phone that reads a ā€˜mute reader’ QR code. Along with it is a tablet I made myself. I embedded C4 into two-thirds of its battery. The tablet has old fingerprint authentication — the kind from a long time ago. I made two of them. One is in Los Angeles, one in New York.ā€

ā€œSo there are two detonators?ā€

ā€œI don’t know. I wasn’t the only one from the electronics department. Also, the phones that read the QR code are ancient, too specialized — they never caught on.ā€

ā€œHow do you trigger it?ā€

ā€œThere’s a special QR code placed on a site. You hold the phone up and read it. The QR is a 3D layer. The code rises in relief, deciphers itself, converts into a detonation code, and sends it by radio.ā€

ā€œRadio? Not Wi‑Fi?ā€

ā€œIf it were Wi‑Fi you’d shut it down quickly. I modified the tablet. It’s not Wi‑Fi — it uses FM radio, like pirate radio.ā€

ā€œWe can jam the frequency.ā€

Amir laughed for a long moment before speaking.

ā€œI set the app so the frequency can be changed arbitrarily. I also set it so that any signal sent to jam the frequency triggers the detonation. So either way, boom.ā€

Jack was silent for a little while, then asked,

ā€œWhere is the QR code located?ā€

ā€œI don’t know. Everything was compartmentalized. Hardware production, QR placement, activation method. By scattering the flow, it seemed designed to deter betrayal.ā€

Silence fell again between them. Amir lifted his eyes from the ground and said,

ā€œJack, I’d tell you if I knew. Only those holding a mute reader would know. Today, that’sā€¦ā€

ā€œJust Rafi?ā€

ā€œThat’s right.ā€

Silence spread between them. The call hovered like thin ice. Jack’s breathing returned slowly to the present. The underground light was narrow but it marked him clearly.

ā€œWhy are you talking?ā€

ā€œLike I said. I’m tired of people dying.ā€

ā€œYou knew you’d talk and yet Rafi let you go unharmed? Sounds too neat to be true.ā€

ā€œMaybe I’m just making it up to dupe you.ā€

ā€œJack, take it easy. Amir, don’t move.ā€

Veronica’s composed voice cut into the call.

ā€œJack, he’s quite handsome in person.ā€

Amir, who was standing on the opposite side of the wall from Jack, holding a receiver himself, smiled at that.

The joke across the handset dried the damp air of the concourse a little. They were tracing different faces of the same space with their fingers.

Jack tightened his grip on the receiver and nodded softly. The nod felt like a small signal matched to the city’s beat and also like the announcement of yet another endless season.

Light in the corridor flowed slowly; shadows folded and layered; the conversation seeped into the tiles and sank.

Jack looked around slowly. The NYPD officers who routinely guarded Grand Central from terror stood at the entrances. Under Veronica’s orders, they had all focused on keeping Amir within range. Red and green laser dots from M4 carbines with Picatinny rails marked Amir’s feet. Likely the red came from the terminal’s NYPD contingent and the green from Veronica’s team. Two squads had lined up their sights to contain his movement. Of course, the sights were not on Amir’s forehead.

Suddenly a sharp smack of sound struck the receiver.

ā€œAmir, who are you?ā€ It was Ana.

Amir’s eyes widened for an instant then he recovered.

ā€œWas I followed? Miss Patel. And who are you? Getting in Jack’s way.ā€

He shrugged with his thumb and pointed to his own feet, where the red and green laser dots rested. Ana stepped forward in her voice.

ā€œPlease. Come with Jack.ā€

Jack added, ā€œFor now, get arrested. We’ll hear the details with Veronica.ā€

Veronica said nothing; Jack assumed she nodded. He switched the receiver in his hand.

Amir laughed.

ā€œIf I were to say yes and surrender, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we? Look — trains are coming in. Watch your crosshairs.ā€

The concourse swelled with people in the early morning. New York breathed around the terminal. The stream of humanity was the city’s pulse, its very blood flow; warmth surged through the concourse.

When Ana shifted her gaze for a moment to that tide of people, she spoke calmly and gently.

ā€œPlease. To Jack.ā€

Amir’s smile fell when he met her look. He accepted Ana’s gaze and said,

ā€œDo you remember the morning at the exhibition when we first met? That wasn’t an accident. I went there to kill you.ā€

Ana’s eyes went white. Life drained from her gaze; the surrounding clamor carried her away and it vanished. Then, softly, she said, why?

ā€œIf you disappear, Bombay Blood in America will be just Justin and me.ā€

////////////////

Across the nation television networks switched to breaking news. Anchors’ voices trembled as they searched for words; the screen held still images of the scene. Smartphone notifications chimed all at once, but what arrived felt less like words than an announcement of silence.

Social feeds filled in an instant; everyone stared at the frozen time on their screens.

ā€œWhat is going on…?ā€ Hands halted midreach as people watched the images. On distant street corners, in cafĆ©s, in offices, faces of people holding their breath were shown.

An old woman on a park bench gripped her bag; a mother with a child went speechless; a driver tightened his hands on the wheel. Silence took the city’s clamor, the suburbs’ stillness, the open fields of the countryside and wrapped them all together in a single deep breath.

Emergency responses began within government agencies. Phones rang; red alarms flashed on screens. A presidential aide lost words and the pen in his hand trembled. Hallways inside the White House fell quiet; only footsteps echoed.

Words could not be pinned down; fear and confusion spread like a chain. Emergency teams moved; experts began analysis. Reports, communications, camera footage — every piece of information crossed and re-crossed — yet the four had slipped through all eyes of surveillance.

Their silence left no record, but it scored a sure claw mark on the world’s timeline.

City, state, nation, the world — all inhaled together and froze in the same instant.

The four shadows completed their mission at the center of the world without being recognized, then dissolved as shadows into the curtain of night.

  

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

My new novel:

Bā™­ (B-flat)

There’s still more to come. 😃

(This is not the final draft.)

Set in New York City.

  

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Soundtrack.

music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...

 

For japanese

music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...

 

Note: I gave a brief explanation of this novel in the following video:

youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV

  

iTunes Playlist Link::

music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD

 

For japanese

music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...

 

My new novel:

Bā™­ (B-flat)

Notes

1. "Bombay Blood Type (hh type)"

•Characteristics: A rare blood type that lacks the usual ABO antigens — cannot be classified as A, B, or O.

•Discovery: First identified in 1952 in Mumbai, India (formerly Bombay).

•Prevalence: Roughly 1 in 10,000 people in India; globally, about 1 in 2.5 million.

•Transfusion Compatibility: Only compatible with blood from other Bombay type donors.

2. 2024 Harvard University Valedictorian Speech – The Power of Not Knowing

youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K

3. Shots Fired at Trump Rally

youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT

  

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Title.

ē„”éŸ³ć€‚

  

åƒ•ć®ę–°ć—ć„å°čŖ¬

怀Bā™­ć€€ļ¼ˆćƒ“ćƒ¼ćƒ•ćƒ©ćƒƒćƒˆļ¼‰ ……. Mitsushiro Nakagawa

  

ā€œć‚ć‚‰ć™ć˜ā€

 

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09th. Oct . 2025.

  

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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54628511025/in/dateposted...

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www.flickr.com/photos/stealaway/54599616429/in/dateposted...

  

Soundtrack.

music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack/pl.u-47...

 

For japanese

music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...

  

iTunes Playlist Link::

music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b/pl.u-47DJGhopxMD

 

For japanese

music.apple.com/jp/playlist/b-my-novel-soundtrack-for-jap...

  

čæ½čØ˜ć€€ć“ć®å°čŖ¬ć‚’å¤šå°‘čŖ¬ę˜Žć—ć¾ć—ćŸć€‚

youtu.be/3w65lqUF-YI?si=yG7qy6TPeCL9xRJV

  

ピモ

 

1

怌Bombayåž‹ļ¼ˆćƒœćƒ³ćƒ™ć‚¤åž‹ć€hhåž‹ļ¼‰ć€

ā€¢ē‰¹å¾“ļ¼šé€šåøøć®ABOč”€ę¶²åž‹ć‚’ęŒćŸćŖć„ļ¼ˆA态B态Oć«åˆ†é”žć•ć‚ŒćŖć„ļ¼‰ē‰¹ę®ŠćŖåž‹ć€‚

ā€¢ē™ŗč¦‹åœ°ļ¼š1952å¹“ć€ć‚¤ćƒ³ćƒ‰ćƒ»ćƒ ćƒ³ćƒć‚¤ļ¼ˆę—§ćƒœćƒ³ćƒ™ć‚¤ļ¼‰ć§åˆć‚ć¦ē¢ŗčŖć€‚

ā€¢ē™ŗē”Ÿé »åŗ¦ļ¼šć‚¤ćƒ³ćƒ‰ć§ćÆ1万人に1äŗŗēØ‹åŗ¦ć ćŒć€äø–ē•Œēš„ć«ćÆē“„250万人に1人とも。

ā€¢č¼øč”€åˆ¶é™ļ¼šåŒć˜Bombayåž‹ć—ć‹č¼øč”€ć§ććŖć„ć€‚

 

2

2024å¹“ćƒćƒ¼ćƒćƒ¼ćƒ‰å¤§å­¦é¦–åø­ć®å’ę„­å¼ć‚¹ćƒ”ćƒ¼ćƒć€ŽēŸ„ć‚‰ćŖć„ć“ćØć®åŠ›ć€

youtu.be/SOUH8iVqSOI?si=Ju-Y728irtcWR71K

 

3

Shots fired at Trump rally

youtu.be/1ejfAkzjEhk?si=ASqJwEmkY-2rW_hT

  

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DCult - Human

 

Body: Maitreya Lara

Head: Catwa Queen HDPro

Skin: Velour - Raquel

Left Eye: Pumec - Velocity

Right Eye: Madame Noir - Ophra

Hair: Adonness - Valasca

Hairbase: Wild Roots - The Romantic Dead Head Tattoo

Bottom Eyeshadow: Zibska - SaroDK

Top Eyeshadow: Pout! - Monster Shadow

Lipstick: Ives - Perfecto Lips

Ears: Pumec - Rebel

Tattoo: Tivoli Inc - Spell

Face Piercings: Artificial Hallucination - Casual Goth

Top: Meva - Peyton

Gloves: LeiMotiv - Kye Armwarmers

Pants: Blueberry - Unbothered

Necklace: Secrets - Stars

Rings & Nails: RAWR! - Trinity

Boots: Moda - Taylor Thigh Boots

Belly Ring: Ysoral - Luxe Piercing Anita

 

*Photo unedited - Windlights/EEP only

My second AG-Systems build. I based this MOC off the AG-Systems that appeared in Wipeout HD/Omega collection (PS3/PS4) .

Sleeping Giant State Park - Hamden, Ct.

This trail has amazing root systems. Muddy and slippery.

Walterville, Oregon

 

OM System OM-5

Olympus 12-50mm

E2V Vending system is retiring!

 

What that means for you?

It means we will need to switch to another vending system which means switching gift card systems, redelivery systems, and credit systems.

 

We advise all customers that have giftcards and credits to use those immediately

 

We are sorry for the inconvenience to our customers

 

Desmonia​ Management

www.e2-sl.com/e2v-3/e2vretirement.html

G-OTIF British Aerospace 146-200QT Freighter of BAE Systems at Warton 24/2/17

Cedar City, UT

7/1/16

 

After filming and taking pictures of residential service in Cedar City, I decided to look for some commercial trucks. To my surprise, I stumbled upon an Ex Bakersfield Volvo S.T.S. (Smart Trucks Systems) K7000. The S.T.S. is named ā€œBrownieā€ and although Brownie is a spare truck but it is the drivers favorite truck. The driver, John, likes brownie because trash rarely fall behind the hopper and when trash does fall behind it is easy to clean, and Brownie is a strong truck and can lift dumpsters with heavy construction debris easily. I hope everybody enjoys seeing a true California classic in Southern Utah, just an hour North of the mini Amrep FL in St. George Utah.

 

Big thank you to John for letting me follow him around and talking to me about the S.T.S. Also, a big thanks to H&C Sanitation for keeping the S.T.S. alive and running. Between Cedar City and St. George, Utah really has some of the nicest drivers.

 

If you have not already, please check out my YouTube Channel:

www.youtube.com/channel/UC6ONYG4cuSLbR8JoZmyERhw

 

Artist concept of SLS launching.

 

Image credit: NASA

 

Original image:

www.nasa.gov/exploration/systems/sls/multimedia/gallery/s...

 

More about SLS:

www.nasa.gov/exploration/systems/sls/index.html

 

Space Launch System Flickr photoset:

www.flickr.com/photos/28634332@N05/sets/72157627559536895/

 

_____________________________________________

These official NASA photographs are being made available for publication by news organizations and/or for personal use printing by the subject(s) of the photographs. The photographs may not be used in materials, advertisements, products, or promotions that in any way suggest approval or endorsement by NASA. All Images used must be credited. For information on usage rights please visit: www.nasa.gov/audience/formedia/features/MP_Photo_Guidelin...

Astronomical seeing was pretty decent when I captured the Jupiter data for the image immediately proceeding this one. My optics were starting to dew over, to I replaced the front cover, waited for an hour and found that the dew heater had completely dried the front glass on my SCT. I slewed to Mars and found that astronomical seeing had dramatically worsened. Being at the telescope and ready for another capture, I did 10 iRGB runs of 45s per filter at gain 400. In processing I found the B channel completely unuseable and the G channel not much better. I tried combining the colors anyway, and the image barely looked like Mars. The R channel, captured in IR, looked pretty decent, so I salvaged what I could.

 

ZWO ASI290MM/EFW 8 x 1.25"

TeleVue NP101is/2.5x PowerMate

Losmandy G11

 

About 20,000 frames per filter x 10 RGB runs captured with FireCapture

Best 60% stacked in Autostakkert

Wavelet sharpened in Registax

Finished in Photoshop

The planets of our solar system.

Mercury can be seen transiting the Sun which will happen again on November 11th 2019, Mars taken in near IR to see through a dust storm, Jupiter's moon Io and it's shadow are transiting the planet, and Neptune's moon Triton is visible to the lower left of the planet.

Security lock console background.

 

This image provided under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 license. You can copy, distribute, adopt and transmit the work for any purpose, even commercially, all without asking permission.

 

You must give appropriate credit and link to my site: yuri.samoilov.online/.

Logo I did for a mates D-Beat/Crust band..

 

If anybody is looking for band logos and stuff hit me up cos I really want to do more of this type o thing!

Of course, LEGO has its headquarters building in Micropolis, built in the shape of the stripes of their old logo. Called System House, it occupies a half block in the heart of downtown. Ref: D1564-076

Prairie dogs will chirp as an alarm for other prairie dogs, when they see potential danger. The ones at the zoo are accustomed to humans; this little guy may have seen a vulture overhead.

Germiston Reef Steamers. Olympus OMD-EM5. 27 Februarie 2016

No need to stop at the gas station to refuel this vehicle, although an occasional stop for hay and water would help keep it running smoothly.

The engine has three donkey-power. Can you count all 12 legs?

 

On our visit to a local village in Zimbabwe, we were able to observe a style of life very different from our own and meet many wonderful local people, who seemed both very happy in their less complicated world, but at the same time very curious about ours.

 

See two of the local boys in comments below.

Aquila was demonstrating how pressure can displace water!

First pass through the North American exhibits provided little in the way of animal photos. As I came back around I heard a lot of noise coming from Aquila's way. When I got to the underwater view there were small children gleefully being entertained. Aquila was taking a page out of Willy's book and swimming towards the glass!

It was very crowded and I was pretty lucky to get these shots without little hands in the frame. It is really great to see the small children so interested in him. Hopefully there will still be some in the wild when they are adults!

 

(errand day, will visit later!)

Not much to add that I haven’t already said in yesterday’s post revealing 71374 Nintendo Entertainment System. They did confirm a few things: The price is officially $229.99. The interactivity with the Mario brick won’t have him play the theme song, but instead has him react “to on-screen enemies, obstacles and power-ups just as he […]

  

www.fbtb.net/video-games/nintendo/2020/07/14/lego-sends-o...

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