Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Tucker Barnes of the Fox affiliate in Washington, D.C. made what is destined to be one of the most famous live shots in history Saturday standing in Ocean, Md. as Hurricane Irene covered him what he thought was ""plankton or something."
It wasn't. It was raw sewage.
Finally a self fulfilling prophecy.
Read more: http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/2011/08/28/2011-08-28_fox_weather_re...
Monday, August 29, 2011
THE journey home has begun for New Zealand's visiting emperor penguin, Happy Feet, who is tonight bound for the Antarctic.
The celebrity penguin was today taken aboard the research vessel Tangaroa in Wellington and placed in a specially-designed cold cage for the four-day voyage south to the Campbell Islands.
Once there, Happy Feet will be released into the Southern Ocean, from where it's hoped he will make his own way home.
Now fully recovered after being found in June on a New Zealand beach, sick and way off course, he today craned his head back and forth, flapped his flippers and seemed a little perturbed by the move.
But the one-metre tall penguin, whose cold travel crate looks like a giant Esky, appears to have been anxious to set sail.
“He wants to leave,” veterinarian Lisa Argilla said over the weekend. “He is ready and he's really stroppy.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Comic strip character Oor Wullie is the most popular literary figure in the Scottish literary canon, according to a new study.
Researchers from Edinburgh Napier University spent three years exploring the reading habits of Scots born on or before 1945.
They found that the popularity of Oor Wullie, The Broons and other comics produced by Dundee's DC Thomson dwarfed offerings by more highbrow authors like Sir Walter Scott and Robert Burns.
Professor Alistair McCleery, Director of the Scottish Centre for the Book, who led the study said: "Almost all the interviewees we spoke to said Oor Wullie and The Broons was a key part of their reading experience, whether in The Sunday Post or the Christmas annuals.
"Their adventures were keenly read and enjoyed by children, parents and grandparents and, in many respects, Oor Wullie was very much like Harry Potter for that generation of Scots.
Samba Pa Ti
Soy la sombra de una pena,
Soy el eco de un dolor.
Triste soledad, que me queda hoy.
El recuerdo de que te amé
Y una extraña desolación, eyy, eyyy.
Soy la sombra de una pena,
Soy el eco de un dolor.
Quiero olvidar, quiero encontrar perdón.
Ten piedad de mi corazón
Yo te imploro mi Señor.
Borraré las tinieblas y esconderé mi llanto
El recuerdo que sufro se volverá un canto.
Volveré a la vida, volveré a cantar, ya verá,
Volveré a la vida, volveré a cantar, ya verá .
Samba Pa Ti
I am the shadow of a sentence,
I am the echo of a pain.
Sad loneliness that I have today.
The memory that I loved you
And a strange desolation, eyy, eyyy.
I am the shadow of a sentence,
I am the echo of a pain.
I forget, I want to find forgiveness.
Have mercy on my heart
I beg you my Lord.
Blot out the darkness and hide my tears
The sufferer will remember a song.
Come back to life, back to sing, you'll see,
Come back to life, back to sing, you will see.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Colonel Gaddafi had previously hinted at a serious admiration for Miss Rice.
In an interview with Al-Jazeera television in 2007, where he hinted that then-President George W. Bush's top diplomat wielded considerable influence in the Arab world.
'I support my darling black African woman,' he said at the time. 'I admire and am very proud of the way she leans back and gives orders to the Arab leaders. ... Leezza, Leezza, Leezza. ... I love her very much. I admire her, and I'm proud of her, because she's a black woman of African origin.'
The following year, Gaddafi and Rice had an opportunity to meet when the secretary of state paid a historic visit to Libya - one that made steps toward normalising relations after the United States went decades without an ambassador in Tripoli.
Friday, August 26, 2011
A US study says sexual encounters with archaic humans like the Neanderthals produced children who inherited key genes that have helped modern humans fight illness and disease.
"The cross-breeding wasn't just a random event that happened, it gave something useful to the gene pool of the modern human," said Stanford University's Peter Parham, senior author of the study in the journal Science.
Equipped with knowledge of the genome of the Neanderthals and the Denisovans, of whom a tooth and a finger bone were discovered in a Russian cave last year, researchers scoured the data for hints of what genes crossed over.
Scientists already knew that about 4 per cent of Neanderthal DNA and up to 6 per cent of Denisovan DNA are present in some modern humans.
The study took a close look at a group called HLA class I genes, which help the immune system adapt to fight off new pathogens that could cause various infections, viruses and diseases.
Now I know why I am still around.
While they may share the same island, the Scottish not only have a very distinct culture, but way of speaking as well. A first time visitor may be a bit lost at times, but Keith Savage was good enough to provide a brief glossary of key terms.
Dunna Chuck Bruck: This is written on almost all of the public garbage cans throughout the Shetland Islands. It’s an anti-litter slogan that basically means “don’t throw rubbish.”
Haud Yer Wheesht: I saw this on the doorknob sign at the Skene House in Aberdeen. Instead of Do Not Disturb it said Haud Yer Wheesht, which means “be quiet” or “shut up.” Hilarious. ”Haud yer wheesht, laddie! I’m tryna ta pour this dram,” said Grandma.
Ginger: No, not a redhead. It means soft drink, usually in reference to the vice national drink: Irn-Bru. “Havin’ a lager?” “Nae, ginger for me.”
Oot Ma Nut: Totally inebriated/stoned. Worst possible drunkenness. “Granny’s drams and a wheen a lagers and I was oot ma nut man.”
Spangin’: To jump around wildly, such as at a concert. ”Last night was a spangin’ spree at the folk festival.”
Fossils from the oldest known Antarctic "sea monster" have been found, a new study says.
The discovery of an 85-million-year-old plesiosaur has pushed back the marine reptile's presence in Antarctica by 15 million years. (See prehistoric sea-monster pictures.)
"The fragments we found don't belong to any group registered on the continent before, which indicates a greater diversity of the plesiosaurs in Antarctica than previously suspected," said team leader Alexander Kellner, of the National Museum of Brazil at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro.
Fragments of the vertebrae, head, and flippers suggest the newfound plesiosaur was 20 to 23 feet (6 to 7 meters) long. The bones weren't, however, enough to identify the species of the plesiosaur.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Sent: Wednesday, 24 August 2011 8:52
Subject: The Faithful Dog Fido
THE FAITHFUL DOG FIDO
by William McGonagall Little Fido's master had to go on a long journey,
So Fido followed her master, and ran cheerfully,
And often the master would speak kindly to the dog,
As along the road together they did jog. Her master rode on a very beautiful steed,
And Fido followed behind at slow speed,
And so they travelled on and on,
And the road was dusty, and they felt woe-begone. The sun shone hot, and the horse was covered with sweat,
And poor Fido was tired and began to fret,
And she felt so tired that no farther could she go,
So Fido lay down and whined with her heart full of woe. Then the master dismounted near a cool shady wood,
And tied his horse to a tree while in an angry mood;
Then he took from the saddle his heavy bags of gold,
And laid them beside Fido, and to watch them she was told. Then he drew his cloak about him, and lay down
With the saddle bags under his head, without a frown;
Then little Fido close to her master did creep,
And in a short, time was fast asleep. But she didn't sleep sound, because her master had her told,
Not to fall asleep, but to watch the bags of gold,
So she pricked up her ears in fear any one coming,
And around the bags of gold she kept running. Her master was tired and slept right soundly,
But little Fido began to feel rather weary,
And she thought her master was long enough in that place,
And at last she awakened her master by licking his face. The dog knew it was time for her master to go,
And for fear of sleeping too long Fido's heart was full of woe,
And she began to bark loud and strong,
Then her master jumped up, troubled because he'd slept so long. Then he quickly mounted his beautiful steed,
And rode away at a very quick speed,
And calling Fido! but Fido paid no heed,
Which caused Fido's master to feel angry indeed, She ran after the horse and bit at his heels,
But poor Fido's master indignant feels;
This she did several times, but her master paid no heed,
And he began to think Fido was going mad indeed. At last the dog sat down by the road side,
And looked sorrowfully after her master, as onward he did ride,
Then she ran after him, and him she overtook,
Just as he had stopped to water his horse in a brook. And there she stood beside the brook, and barked so savagely,
That her master thought her really mad, she acted so strangely,
Then she ran down the road barking with all her might,
Until her master was now convinced Fido wasn't right. And taking out his pistol, he aimed at the dog,
And fired, and poor Fido lay there as dead as a log;
Then with a sad heart he rode hastily away,
Spurring on his noble steed without delay. But he hadn't ridden far, when he stopped as in dismay,
And searched for his bags of gold, but they were away,
And pondering in his mind as spell-bound he stood,
Had he dropped them, or left them behind in the wood. Then he turned and rode back as fast as he could go,
And crying on his little, dog, with his heart full of woe,
And all along the road he still saw drops of blood,
Which brought tears into his eyes in a flood. And oh! how guilty he felt as he galloped by the road side,
And found the bags of gold, and there lay beside
The faithful dog Fido alas! quite dead,
And when he saw her he was terror-stricken with dread. And taking the bags of gold with him he rode away,
lamenting the death of Fido, who's life he'd taken that day,
Who was true to her trust in protecting her master's gold,
And an ill reward for doing to, be it told.
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Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
It is one of the most striking sights of autumn. As days shorten and the weather cools, black clouds gather over Britain's skies. These dark spectacles have nothing to do with the weather, however. They are made up of thousands of starlings swirling and swooping in the air, performing aerial ballets that appear to be synchronised. Sometimes, flocks shift in shape from globes to hourglasses, thickening and thinning in the atmosphere.
The behaviour of these murmurations of starlings has puzzled scientists for years. Some researchers have argued that they are created by one or two starlings who lead the rest of the birds in these strange performances. Others have suggested more intriguing causes, such as the British ornithologist Edmund Selous who claimed the birds were responding to telepathic signals from their mates. But now a Dutch scientist, Charlotte Hemelrijk, of Groningen University, in an article in the online journal PLoS ONE, has proposed a far simpler idea: that this seemingly sophisticated behaviour can be explained using only a few simple behavioural rules. And not only are these rules true for starlings, she says, they are also true for other creatures such as fish.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
The Lorax, the classic pro-environmentalist and rather strongly anti-capitalist Dr. Seuss book from 1971 had a big influence on me when I was a kid. That is to say, that it really bothered and upset me.
The book has a simple and powerful lesson at its core: “We’re killing the planet for often frivolous reasons. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. Someone has to stand up for the trees. Someone like you.” The finger is pointed right at Seuss’s young readers. He means YOU, that’s right, you there reading this—YES YOU—and there is no escaping this fact.
The animated version that came out the following year spooked me ever more, although I loved it. When The Lorax (or any Seuss cartoon) was on TV, this was like a holiday to me. I don’t think its influence on my generations and the ones that came after can be overestimated. It’s one of the most subversive and powerful things ever written for grade school children. Both the book and the cartoon are veritable counter-culture classics. You simply cannot unlearn the message of The Lorax. It’s like Who Moved My Cheese?, but written by Karl Marx in verse. For me, it’s THE Dr. Seuss book, a stone classic.
In the story, a boy visits a sad old man known as “The Once-ler” who lives in a ruined wasteland in a remote area of town “where the Grickle grass grows.” We never actually see the Once-ler, who lurks in the shadows, only his hands You could argue that he represents not one specific person, but voracious capitalism itself. He tells the boy about his days as a wealthy man, running a factory to make a fad item of clothing (a “Thneed”!) woven from the colorful, woolly Truffula trees. The Truffula trees are not only beautiful, they support a vibrant and exotic ecosystem of happy and content forest-dwelling animals.
A Wilford Brimley-esque creature called “The Lorax” protests the destruction of Truffula tree forest, but is continuously rebuffed by the Once-ler and the red tape of “the system.” After the Once-ler has chopped down the very last Truffula tree he FINALLY gets what the Lorax was trying to tell him, but by then it is too late. The Lorax lifts himself up by the seat of his pants and disappears. The animals are all gone. What is left looks like a lunar landscape. The haunted old man, full of regret over his life, explains to the boy how greed will destroy us all UNLESS we—ALL of us—stand up to the corporations raping and pillaginging the Earth. He gives the boy the very last Trufulla seed and tells him to nurture it and to regrow the Trufulla tree forest so that the Lorax and his friends might one day return.
The Heysen Trail is a long distance walking trail in South Australia. It runs from Parachilna Gorge, in the Flinders Ranges via the Adelaide Hills to Cape Jervis on the Fleurieu Peninsula and is approximately 1200 km in length.
The trail was first suggested by Warren Bonython in 1969 but design was stalled by several years due to Government politics and issues with private land owners. The first 50 kilometres of the track was laid out through the Mount Lofty Ranges in 1978 after responsibility for the track was handed to the Department of Recreation and Sport. Terry Lavender was the main designer for the track, and oversaw the majority of its construction until it was completed in 1992. The trail is named after Sir Hans Heysen.