Hobix is a complete blogging system, designed to be managed on the file system and accessed through a command-line application.
The command-line application is powered by this Ruby library which is designed to be fully scriptable and extensible.
Here is a map of the core modules which are loaded when you require ‘hobix’ in your script.
| Hobix::Weblog: | Generally, this module is the starting point. Load a weblog’s configuration into a Hobix::Weblog object, which can be used to query entries, generate pages, and edit any part of the site. (from ‘hobix/weblog’) |
| Hobix::Page: | Whenever a template is generated into output, a Page object is passed in, describing the links to neighboring pages and update time. (from ‘hobix/weblog’) |
| Hobix::Entry: | Using an entry’s id (or shortName), you can load Entry objects, which contain all the content and rendering details for an entry. (from ‘hobix/entry’) |
| Hobix::EntryEnum: | When Hobix supplies a template with a list of entry classes, this module is mixed in. (from ‘hobix/entry’) |
| Hobix::LinkList: | An Entry subclass, used for storing links. (from ‘hobix/linklist’) |
| Hobix::BasePlugin: | All Hobix plugins inherit from this class. The class uses Ruby’s inherited hook to identify plugins. (from ‘hobix/base’) |
| Hobix::BaseStorage: | All storage plugins inherit from this class. Storage plugins exclusively store the weblog entries. (from ‘hobix/base’) |
| Hobix::BaseOutput: | All output plugins inherit from this class. Output plugins are attached to specific template types and they feed entries into the template. (from ‘hobix/base’) |
| Hobix::BasePublish: | All publisher plugins inherit from this class. Publisher plugins are notified when certain pages are updated. For example, the ping plugin will ping blog directories if the `index’ pages are updated. (from ‘hobix/base’) |
| Hobix::Config: | Users individually store their personal settings and weblog paths in .hobixrc. This class is used to load and manipulate the settings file. (from ‘hobix/config’) |
Hobix comes with a few plugins, for which documentation is also available.
| Hobix::Storage::Filesys: | This plugin stores entries in separate YAML files. Directories can be used to categorize and organize entries. (from ‘hobix/storage/filesys’) |
| Hobix::Out::ERB: | This output plugin handles .erb templates. Page and entry data are passed in as variables. ERuby markup is used in the document to script against those variables. (from ‘hobix/out/erb’) |
| Hobix::Out::RedRum: | This output plugin handles .redrum templates. These templates contain ERuby as well. The output generated by the page is passed through RedCloth, a Textile processor. This way, you can write your templates in Textile with ERuby scripting. (from ‘hobix/out/redrum’) |
| Hobix::Out::RSS: | This output plugin handles .rss templates. These templates are empty and simply signify to the plugin that an RSS 2.0 feed should be generated for the entry data. (from ‘hobix/out/rss’) |
| Hobix::Out::Atom: | This output plugin handles .atom templates. Just like the RSS plugin, but generates an Atom feed. (from ‘hobix/out/atom’) |
| Hobix::Out::OkayNews: | This output plugin handles .okaynews templates. Just like the Atom and RSS plugins, but generates !okay/news, a YAML syndication feed. (from ‘hobix/out/okaynews’) |
| Hobix::Publish::Ping: | This publisher plugin pings blog directories when the ‘index’ pages are published on a regen or upgen. |
Here are a few short examples to give you a feel for how Hobix can be scripted. Refer to individual module’s documentation for more.
The first step is to load the Weblog object.
require 'hobix' weblog = Hobix::Weblog.load( '/my/blahhg/hobix.yaml' )
With the weblog loaded, we’ll now want to load a template. Templates are stored in the weblog’s skel_path accessor.
tpl_path = File.join( weblog.skel_path, 'index.html.erb' )
We give the path to the editor. When we are done editing, the editor saves to the original path. We can then trigger a rebuild.
weblog.regenerate :update
The :update indicates that not every file will be regenerated, only those affected by the change.
Publisher plugins are used to perform actions when the site has an upgen or regen. Hobix plugins are absolutely the simplest Ruby coding ever. Watch.
require 'net/smtp' module Hobix::Publish class Email < Hobix::BasePublish def initialize( weblog, emails ); end def watch; ['entry']; end def publish( page_name ); end end end
This plugin doesn’t do anything yet. But it won’t throw any errors. This is our skeleton for a plugin that will e-mail us when there are updates to the site.
The watch method monitors certain page prefixes. The `entry’ prefix indicates that this publish plugin looks for changes to any entry on the site.
The initialize method is important as well. It receives the +Hobix::Weblog+ object the publishing took place on. The emails parameter is supplied a list of e-mail address from the weblog’s hobix.yaml configuration.
When a plugin is initialized it is given the weblog object and any data which is supplied in the weblog configuration. Here is what the hobix.yaml looks like:
requires: - hobix/storage/filesys - hobix/out/erb - hobix/publish/ping: [http://ping.blo.gs:80/]
In the above configuration, an Array is passed to the Ping plugin. So that’s what we’ll receive here.
To get our e-mail sending, let’s fill in the initialize and publish methods.
def initialize( weblog, emails ) @weblog = weblog @emails = emails end def publish( page_name ) Net::SMTP.start( 'localhost', 25 ) do |smtp| @emails.each do |email| smtp.send_message <<MSG<EMAIL_ADDRESS>email From<EMAIL_ADDRESS>To: #{ email } The site has been updated. MSG end end end
Hobix API, used by any external service (DRb or REST, etc.)
Copyright © 2003-2004 why the lucky stiff
Written & maintained by why the lucky stiff
This program is free software, released under a BSD license. See COPYING for details.
Marshal + DBM = DataMarsh
Hobix command-line weblog system.
Copyright © 2003-2004 why the lucky stiff
Written & maintained by why the lucky stiff
This program is free software, released under a BSD license. See COPYING for details.
The LinkList class is an entry type for storing links. It’s also a good example of how to subclass the Entry class so you can store your own kinds of entries.
The LinkList responds to many of the same properties listed in the +Hobix::Entry+ class. The primary difference is that, instead of having a content property, there is a links property.
| links: | Internally, this class stores a +YAML::Omap+, an Array of pairs. The links are kept in the order shown in the YAML file. They consist of a link title, paired with a URL. |
--- %YAML:1.0 !hobix.com,2004/linklist title: Hobix Links author: why created: 2004-05-30 18:53:00 -06:00 links: - Hobix: http://hobix.com/ - Learn Hobix: http://hobix.com/learn/ - Textile Reference: http://hobix.com/textile/
| VERSION | = | '0.5' | Version used to compare installations | |
| CVS_ID | = | "$Id$" | CVS information | |
| CVS_REV | = | "$Revision$"[11..-3] | ||
| SHARE_PATH | = | share_path | ||
| SHARE_PATH | = | "#{ ::Config::CONFIG['datadir'] }/hobix/" |
WebApp is a main routine of web application. It should be called from a toplevel of a CGI/FastCGI/mod_ruby/WEBrick script.
WebApp is used as follows.
#!/usr/bin/env ruby require 'webapp' ... class/method definitions ... # run once per process. WebApp {|webapp| # This block runs once per request. ... process a request ... }
WebApp yields with an object of the class WebApp. The object contains request and response.
WebApp rise $SAFE to 1.
WebApp catches all kind of exception raised in the block. If HTTP connection is made from localhost or a developper host, the backtrace is sent back to the browser. Otherwise, the backtrace is sent to stderr usually which is redirected to error.log. The developper hosts are specified by the environment variable WEBAPP_DEVELOP_HOST. It may be an IP address such as “111.222.333.444“ or an network address such as “111.222.333.0/24“. (An environment variable for CGI can be set by SetEnv directive in Apache.)


Let Us Learn
Look at the shoelace and the belt. How long are they?
You can measure their length by using your pencil.
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The shoelace is 3 pencils long.
|
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The belt is 4 pencils long.
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You can also measure the length of other things using
shorter things. For example, you may measure the length of your
pencil case using paper clips.
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The pencil case is 6 paper clips long.
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Let Us Try
Measure the length of each thing by counting the number
of paper clips below it. Write your answer on the line.
-
pencil = _____ paper clips
-
crayon = _____ paper clips
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comb = _____ paper clips
-
ruler = _____ paper clips
Let Us Practice
A.
Measure the length of each thing using Popsicle sticks.
Write your answer on the line.
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length of the teacher’s table = _____ Popsicle sticks
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length of the pupil’s table = _____ Popsicle sticks
-
length of your Mathematics book = _____ Popsicle
sticks
-
length of your pad paper = _____ Popsicle sticks
-
length of your schoolbag = _____ Popsicle sticks
-
length of your arm = _____ Popsicle sticks
B.
Measure the length of each thing using paper clips.
Write your answer on the line.
-
length of your pencil = _____ paper clips
-
length of the blackboard eraser = _____ paper clips
-
length of your pencil case = _____ paper clips
-
length of your notebook = _____ paper clips
-
length of your ruler = _____ paper clips
-
length of your Mathematics book = _____ paper clips


IFRAME
This is to be used in the BODY Tag.
This Tag creates Floating or Inline Frames within a Document.
This is a Container Tag and thus has to be closed.
Attributes
- FRAMEBORDER :
Indicates whether the Floating Frame has Visible
Border. 0 means NoBorder and 1 means Border.
- HEIGHT :
Specifies the Vertical Dimensions (in px.) of the
Floating Frame.
- HSPACE :
Specifies the Size of Margins (in px.) to the Left and Right
of the Floating Frame.
- MARGINHEIGHT :
Specifies the size of the Top and Bottom Margins (in px.) of the
Floating Frame.
- MARGINWIDTH :
Specifies the size of the Left and Right Margins (in px.) of the
Floating Frame.
- NAME :
Assigns the Frame A Unique Name. This is used to open a New
Document in the same Frame.
- SCROLLING :
Indicates whether the Floating Frame has Scroll
Bars. NO means NoScrolling and Yes means Scrolling.
- SRC :
Specifies the Relative or Absolute URL of the
file to be loaded in the Floating Frame.
- VSPACE :
Specifies the Size of Margins (in px.) to the Top and Bottom
of the Floating Frame.
- WIDTH :
Specifies the Horizontal Dimensions (in px.) of the
Floating Frame.
Syntax
<IFRAME [FRAMEBORDER="{0,1}"] [HEIGHT="n"] [HSPACE="n"] [MARGINHEIGHT="n"]
[MARGINWIDTH="n"] [NAME="NAME"] [SCROLLING="{YES,NO}"] [SRC="URL"] [VSPACE="n"]
[WIDTH="n"]>
</IFRAME>
Example
<IFRAME FRAMEBORDER="1" NAME="IFRM1" SCROLLING="YES"
SRC="IMAGES\ani.GIF">
</IFRAME>
Effect
Home
About


${require('./js/header/index.html')} ${require('./js/videoplayer/index.html')} ${require('./js/comment/index.html')} ${require('./js/favoriate/index.html')}
${require('./js/commentsender/index.html')} ${require('./js/loading/index.html')}


| LIST | ALBUM PICT |
|---|---|
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Single . 1 track . 2018/03/13
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Album . 11 tracks . 2016/12/12
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Album . 9 tracks . 2012/06/06
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Mini Album . 7 tracks . 2012/02/29
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Album . 10 tracks . 2011/04/08
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Center for Performing Arts
Directory
Classes / Services
Rent Space
Contact
Contact Us
Get Directions


| Interface | Description |
|---|---|
| BatchCreator<T extends PhysicalOperator> | |
| OutputMutator |
Interface that allows a record reader to modify the current schema.
|
| RootCreator<T extends PhysicalOperator> | |
| RootExec |
Node which is the last processing node in a query plan.
|
| Enum | Description |
|---|---|
| ScreenCreator.ScreenRoot.Metric | |
| SingleSenderCreator.SingleSenderRootExec.Metric |
| Annotation Type | Description |
|---|---|
| PhysicalConfig |
Copyright © 2021 The Apache Software Foundation. All rights reserved.


Dressing
2 tbsp sake
1 tbsp miso
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp mirin
1 tbsp butter
splash of balsamic vinegar
Mizuna, mesclun or watercress
Soba and Smoked Salamon
This, modern, low-fat and super-easy recipe combines noodles and salad in one dish, so it could either go on the noodle or salad page. Since it has an abundance of vegetables and the dressing is essentially a salad dressing, I put it here. I rely on this recipe often, especially in the summer, when the bright flavors and fresh, crunchy vegetables really hit the spot. I should point out that the flavors are not traditionally Japanese, they are closer to Thai. Feel free to add whatever vegetables you like – julienned carrot or red pepper would also work nicely, especially if you want a vegetarian version without the salmon.
Prepare soba according to package directions. Cool under cold running water, and drain the soba in a colander to remove as much water as possible. Slice smoked salmon into bite size pieces. Cut the kyuri into wedges or julienne, according to your preference. Slice the green onion into fine slivers. Chop lettuce into ½ wide strips, or roughly chop mizuna.
Place the drained soba on plate, and top with the lettuce, cucumber, smoked salmon and finally, the negi and optional mitsuba and sesame seeds.


The molten afternoon sun broiled the Waste, flinging shadows across the mountains to the north, just ahead now. The dry hills passed beneath Jeade’en’s hooves, high and low like swells in an ocean of cracked clay, miles rolling away behind. The mountains had held Rand’s eyes since they first came in sight the day before, not snowcapped, not so tall as the Mountains of Mist, much less the Spine of the World, but jagged slabs of brown and gray stone, streaked in some places with yellow or red or bands of glittering flecks, tumbled about so that a man might think to try the Dragonwall afoot first. Sighing, he settled in his saddle and adjusted the shoufa he wore with his red coat. In those mountains lay Alcair Dal. Soon there would be an ending of sorts, or a beginning. Maybe both. Soon, perhaps.
Yellow-haired Adelin strode easily ahead of the dapple stallion, and nine more sun-dark Far Dareis Mai made a wide ring around him, all with bucklers and spears in hand, cased bows on their backs, black veils dangling on their chests ready to be lifted. Rand’s honor guard. The Aiel did not call it that, yet the Maidens came to Alcair Dal for Rand’s honor. So many differences, and he did not know what half really were even when he saw them.
For instance, Aviendha’s behavior toward the Maidens, and theirs to her. Most of the time, as now, she walked beside his horse with her arms folded in the shawl around her shoulders; green eyes intent beneath her dark head scarf on the mountains ahead, she seldom spoke with the Maidens beyond a word or two, but that was not the oddity. Her arms folded; that was the heart of it. The Maidens knew she wore the ivory bracelet, yet seemed to pretend not to see it; she would not take it off, yet hid her wrist whenever she thought one of them might be looking.
You have no society, Adelin had told him when he suggested some other than the Maidens of the Spear might provide his escort. Each chief, whether of clan or sept, would be accompanied by men from the society he had belonged to before becoming chief.  The yellow-haired woman and the other nine had not looked at Aviendha, a few steps away in the entry hall to Lian’s roof; they had not looked intently. For countless years Maidens who would not give up the spear have given their babes for the Wise Ones to hand to other women, none knowing where the child went or even whether boy or girl. Now a Maiden’s son has come back to us, and we know him. We will go to Alcair Dal for your honor, son of Shaiel, a Maiden of the Chumai Taardad. Her face was so set—all of their faces were, including Aviendha’s—that he thought they might offer to dance the spears if he refused.
When he accepted, they made him go through that ritual of “Remember honor” again, this time with some drink called oosquai, made from zemai, drinking to the bottom of a small silver cup with each of them. Ten Maidens; ten little cups. The stuff looked like faintly brown-tinged water, tasted almost like it—and was stronger than double-distilled brandy. He had not been able to walk straight after, and they had got him to bed, laughing at him, no matter how he protested, as much as he could with all of them tickling him so he could barely breathe for laughing himself. All but Aviendha. Not that she went away; she stayed and watched the whole thing with a face as blank as stone. When Adelin and the others finally tucked him into his blankets and left, Aviendha sat down beside the door, spreading her dark, heavy skirts, watching him stonily until he fell asleep. At his waking, she was still there, still watching. And refusing to talk about Maidens or oosquai or any of it; as far as she was concerned, it seemed not to have happened. Whether the Maidens would have been as reticent, he did not know; how could you possibly look ten women in the face and ask why they had gotten you drunk and made a game of taking your clothes off and putting you to bed?
So many differences, so few that made much sense that he could see, and no telling which might trip him up and ruin all his plans. Yet he could not afford to wait. He glanced over his shoulder. What was done, was done. And who can say what’s yet to come?
Well behind, the Taardad followed him. Not just the Nine Valley Taardad and the Jindo, but the Miadi and the Four Stones, the Chumai and the Bloody Water and more, broad columns surrounding the peddlers’ lurching wagons and the Wise Ones’ party, reaching back two miles through the shimmering heat haze, ringed by scouts and outrunners. Every day more had come in response to the runners Rhuarc had sent that first day, a hundred men and Maidens here, three hundred there, five hundred, according to the size of each sept and what each hold needed to keep for safety.
In the distance to the south and west, another band was approaching at a run, trailing dust for their pace; perhaps they belonged to some other clan on its way to Alcair Dal, but he thought not. Only two-thirds of the septs represented yet, but he estimated there were well over fifteen thousand Taardad Aiel strung out behind him. An army on the march, and still growing. Nearly an entire clan coming to a meeting of chiefs, in violation of all custom.
Suddenly Jeade’en topped a rise, and there in a long, wide hollow below was the fair gathered for the meeting, and on the hills beyond, the camps of the clan and sept chiefs who had already arrived.
Spread among two or three hundred of the low, wall-less tents, all widely spaced, were pavilions of the same grayish brown material that were tall enough to stand beneath, with goods displayed on blankets in the shade, brightly glazed pottery and even brighter rugs, jewelry in silver or gold. Aiel crafts mainly, but there would be things from beyond the Waste as well, including perhaps silk and ivory from far to the east. No one seemed to be trading; the few men and women in sight sat in one or another of the pavilions, usually alone.
Of the five camps scattered on heights around the fair, four looked just as empty, only a few dozen men or Maidens stirring amid tents set up for as many as a thousand. The fifth camp sprawled over twice as much ground as any of the others, with hundreds of people visible, and likely as many more inside the tents.
Rhuarc trotted up the hill behind Rand with his ten Aethan Dor, Red Shields, followed by Heirn with ten Tain Shari, True Bloods, and forty-odd more sept chiefs with their escorts for honor, all with spears and bucklers, bows and quivers. It made a formidable force, more than had taken the Stone of Tear. Some of the Aiel in the camps and among the pavilions were peering at the hilltop. Not at the Aiel gathered there, Rand suspected. At him; a man on a horse. A thing seen very seldom in the Three-fold Land. He would show them more before he was done.
Rhuarc’s gaze settled on the largest camp, where more Aiel in cadin’sor were boiling out of the tents, all to stare in their direction. “Shaido, unless I mistake myself,” he said quietly. “Couladin. You are not the only one to break custom, Rand al’Thor.”
“Perhaps as well I did.” Rand dragged the shoufa from around his head and stuffed it into his coat pocket atop the angreal, the carving of a round-faced man with a sword across his knees. The sun began baking his bare head to show him how much protection the cloth had been. “If we had come according to custom . . . ” The Shaido were loping toward the mountains, leaving behind apparently empty tents. And causing some little stir in the other camps, and the fair; the Aiel gave over staring at a man on a horse to peer after the Shaido. “Could you have forced a way into Alcair Dal against two-to-one odds or better, Rhuarc?”
“Not before nightfall,” the clan chief replied slowly, “not even against Shaido dogrobbers. This is more than violation of custom! Even Shaido should have more honor than this!”
Angry mutters of agreement rose from the other Taardad on the hilltop. Except the Maidens; for some reason they had gathered around Aviendha off to one side, talking seriously among themselves. Rhuarc spoke a few quiet words to one of his Red Shields, a green-eyed fellow who looked as if his face had been used to pound fence posts, and the man turned downhill, running swiftly back toward the approaching Taardad.
“Did you expect this?” Rhuarc asked Rand as soon as the Red Shield left. “Is that why you summoned the entire clan?”
“Not this exactly, Rhuarc.” The Shaido began forming lines before a narrow gap into the mountains; they were veiling themselves. “But there was no other reason for Couladin to leave in the night except that he was eager to be somewhere, and where would he better like to be than here, causing me trouble? Are the others already in Alcair Dal? Why?”
“The opportunity presented by chiefs meeting is not to be missed, Rand al’Thor. There will be discussions of boundary disputes, grazing rights, a dozen things. Water. If two Aiel from different clans meet, they discuss water. Three from three clans, and they discuss water and grazing.”
“And four?” Rand asked. Five clans represented already, and the Taardad made six.
Rhuarc hesitated a moment, hefting one of his short spears unconsciously. “Four will dance the spears. But it should not be so here.”
The Taardad parted to let the Wise Ones through, shawls over their heads, with Moiraine and Lan and Egwene riding behind. Egwene and the Aes Sedai wore those white cloths around their temples, in damp imitation of the Aiel women’s head scarves. Mat rode up, too, off by himself, black-hafted spear across his pommel. His wide-brimmed hat shadowed his face as he studied what lay ahead.
The Warder nodded to himself when he saw the Shaido. “That could be messy,” he said softly. His black stallion rolled an eye at Rand’s dapple; only that, and Lan was intent on the Aiel ranks before the gap, yet he patted Mandarb’s neck soothingly. “But not now, I think.”
“Not now,” Rhuarc agreed.
“If only you would . . . allow me to go in with you.” Except for that one slight hitch, Moiraine’s voice was as serene as ever; cool calm painted her ageless features, but her dark eyes looked at Rand as if her gaze alone could force him to relent.
Amys’s long pale hair, hanging below her shawl, swung as she shook her head firmly. “It is not his decision, Aes Sedai. This is the business of chiefs, men’s business. If we let you go into Alcair Dal now, the next time Wise Ones meet, or roofmistresses, some clan chief will want to put his nose in. They think we meddle in their affairs, and often try to meddle in ours.” She gave Rhuarc a quick smile meant to convey that she did not include him; her husband’s lack of expression told Rand he thought otherwise.
Melaine gripped her shawl under her chin, precisely staring at Rand. If she did not agree with Moraine, at least she mistrusted what he would do. He had hardly slept since leaving Cold Rocks; if they had peered into his dreams, they had seen only nightmares.
“Be careful, Rand al’Thor,” Bair said as if she had read his thoughts. “A tired man makes mistakes. You cannot afford mistakes today.” She pulled her shawl down around her thin shoulders, and her thin voice took on an almost angry note. “We cannot afford for you to make mistakes. The Aiel cannot afford it.”
The coming of more riders to the hilltop had drawn eyes back to them. Among the pavilions several hundred Aiel, men in cadin’sor and long-haired women in skirts and blouses and shawls, made a watchful crowd. Its attention shifted when Kadere’s dusty white wagon appeared behind its team of mules off to the right, with the heavy, cream-coated peddler on the driver’s seat, and Isendre all in white silk holding a matching parasol.  They looked at Rand as the wagons rambled past in a squeal of ungreased axles, Kadere and Isendre, Natael in his gleeman’s patch-covered cloak, Keille’s great bulk encased in snowy white, a white lace shawl on her ivory combs. Rand patted Jeade’en’s arched neck. Men and women began spilling out of the fair below to meet the approaching wagons. The Shaido were waiting. Soon, now.
Egwene moved her gray close to Jeade’en; the dapple stallion tried to nuzzle Mist and got nipped for his trouble. “You’ve not given me any chance to speak to you since Cold Rocks, Rand.” He said nothing; she was Aes Sedai now, and not just because she called herself one. He wondered if she had spied on his dreams, too. Her face looked tight, her dark eyes tired. “Do not keep to yourself, Rand. You do not fight alone. Others do battle for you, too.”
Frowning, he tried not to look at her. His first thought was of Emond’s Field and Perrin, but he did not see how she could know where Perrin had gone. “What do you mean?” he said finally.
“I fight for you,” Moiraine said before Egwene could open her mouth, “as does Egwene.” A look flashed between the two women. “People fight for you who do not know it, any more than you know them. You do not realize what it means that you force the form of the Age Lace, do you? The ripples of your actions, the ripples of your very existence, spread across the Pattern to change the weave of life-threads of which you will never be aware. The battle is far from yours alone. Yet you stand in the heart of this web in the Pattern. Should you fail, and fall, all fails and falls. Since I cannot go with you into Alcair Dal, let Lan accompany you. One more pair of eyes to watch your back.” The Warder turned slightly in his saddle, frowning at her; with the Shaido veiled for killing, he would not be eager to leave her alone.
Rand did not think he was supposed to have seen that look pass from Moiraine to Egwene. So they had a secret to keep from him. Egwene did have Aes Sedai eyes, dark and unreadable. Aviendha and the Maidens had come back to him.  Far Dareis Mai carries my honor.”
Moiraine’s mouth tightened at the corners, but apparently that was exactly the right thing to say so far as the Maidens were concerned. Adelin and the others donned wide grins.
Below, Aiel were crowding around wagon drivers as they began unhitching the mules. Not everyone was paying attention to the Aiel. Keille and Isendre stared at one another from beside their wagons, Natael speaking urgently to one woman, Kadere to the other, until they finally stopped their duel of eyes. The two women had been like that for some time. Had they been men, Rand would have expected it to come to blows long since.
“Be on your guard, Egwene,” Rand said.  Some things are beyond even Shaido.”
“Just be on your guard!” He had not meant to be that sharp. Even Rhuarc stared at him. They did not understand, and he dared not tell them. Not yet. Who would spring their trap first? He had to risk them as well as himself.
“What about me, Rand?” Mat said suddenly, rolling a gold coin across the fingers of one hand as though unaware of it. “You have any objections to my going with you?”
“Do you want to? I thought you’d stay with the peddlers.”
Mat frowned at the wagons below, looked to the Shaido lined before the mountain gap. “I don’t think it will be so easy to get out of here if you get yourself killed.  Dovienya,” he muttered—Rand had heard him say that before; Lan said it meant “luck” in the Old Tongue—and flipped the gold coin into the air. When he tried to snatch it back, it bounced off his fingertips and fell to the ground. Somehow, improbably, the coin landed on edge, rolling downhill, bounding across cracks in the baked clay, glittering in the sunlight, all the way down to the wagons, where it finally fell over. “Burn me, Rand,” he growled, “I wish you wouldn’t do that!”
Isendre picked up the coin and stood fingering it, peering up at the hilltop. The others stared, too; Kadere, and Keille, and Natael.
“You can come,” Rand said. “Rhuarc, isn’t it about time?”
The clan chief glanced over his shoulder. “Yes. Just about . . .
Singing rose to the pipes. Aiel boys stopped singing when they reached manhood, except for certain occasions. Only in battle songs and laments for the dead did an Aielman sing once he had taken up the spear. There were surely Maidens’ voices in that chanted harmony of parts, but deep male voices swallowed them.
“Wash the spears—while the sun climbs high.
Wash the spears—while the sun falls low.”
Half a mile to right and left Taardad appeared, running in time to their song in two wide columns, spears ready, faces veiled, seemingly endless columns rolling toward the mountains.
“Wash the spears—Who fears to die?
Wash the spears—No one I know!”
In the clan camps and in the fair, Aiel stared in amazement; something in the way they held themselves told Rand they were silent. Some of the wagon drivers stood as if stunned; others let their mules run loose and dove under their wagons. And Keille and Isendre, Kadere and Natael, watched Rand.
“Wash the spears—while life holds true.
Wash the spears—until life ends.
Wash the spears . . . ”
“Shall we go?” He did not wait for Rhuarc’s nod to heel Jeade’en to a walk down the hill, Adelin and the other Maidens falling in around him. Mat hesitated a moment before booting Pips to follow, but Rhuarc and the Taardad sept chiefs, each with his ten, stepped off with the dapple. Once, halfway to the fair tents, Rand looked back to the hilltop. Moiraine and Egwene sitting their horses with Lan. Aviendha standing with the three Wise Ones. All watching him. He had almost forgotten what it was like not to have people watching him.
As he rode abreast of the fair, a delegation came out, ten or a dozen women in skirts and blouses and much gold and silver and ivory, as many men in the grays and browns of the cadin’sor but unarmed save for a belt knife, and that usually smaller than the heavy-bladed weapon Rhuarc wore. Still, they took a position that forced Rand and the others to halt, and appeared to ignore the veiled Taardad streaming by to east and west.
“Wash the spears—Life is a dream.
Wash the spears—All dreams must end.”
“I did not expect this of you, Rhuarc,” a heavyset, gray-haired man said. He was not fat—Rand had not seen a fat Aiel—his heaviness was muscle. “Even from the Shaido it was a surprise, but you!”
“Times change, Mandhuin,” the clan chief replied. “How long have the Shaido been here?”
“They arrived just at sunrise. Why they traveled in the night, who can say?” Mandhuin frowned slightly at Rand, tilted his head toward Mat. “Strange times indeed, Rhuarc.”
“Who is here besides the Shaido?” Rhuarc asked.
“We Goshien arrived first. Then the Shaarad.” The heavy man grimaced over his blood enemies’ name, without stopping his study of the two wetlanders. “The Chareen and the Tomanelle came later. And last the Shaido, as I said. Sevanna convinced the chiefs to go in only a short time ago. Bael saw no reason to meet today, nor did some of the others.”
 She wore as many, and as many necklaces, as Amys and her sister-wife combined. “We hear He Who Comes With the Dawn has come out of Rhuidean, Rhuarc.” She was frowning at Rand and Mat. The entire delegation was. “We hear that the Car’a’carn will be announced today. Before all of the clans arrive.”
“Then someone spoke you a prophecy,” Rand said. He touched the dapple’s flanks with his heels; the delegation moved out of his way.
“Dovienya,” Mat murmured. “Mia dovienya nesodhin soende.”
The Taardad columns had come up on either side of the Shaido and turned to face them across a few hundred paces, still veiled, still singing. They made no move that could be considered threatening, really, only stood there, fifteen or twenty times the Shaido numbers, and sang, voices thundering in chanting harmony.
“Wash the spears—till shade is gone.
Wash the spears—till water turns dry.
Wash the spears—How long from home?
Wash the spears—Until I die!”
Riding closer to the black-veiled Shaido, Rand saw Rhuarc lift a hand to his own veil. “No, Rhuarc. We are not here to fight them.” He meant that he hoped it would not come to that, but the Aielman took it differently.
“You are right, Rand al’Thor. No honor to the Shaido.” Leaving his veil hanging, Rhuarc raised his voice. “No honor to the Shaido!”
Rand did not turn his head to look, but he had the feeling black veils were being lowered behind him.
“Oh, blood and ashes!” Mat muttered.
Wash the spears—till water runs free.
Wash the spears . . . ”
The lines of Shaido shifted uneasily. Whatever Couladin or Sevanna had told them, they could count. To dance the spears with Rhuarc and those with him was one thing, even if it went against all custom; to face enough Taardad to sweep them away like an avalanche was something else. Slowly they parted, moving back to let Rand ride through, stepping back to make a wide path.
Rand heaved a sigh of relief. Adelin and the other Maidens, at least, walked looking straight ahead, as though the Shaido did not exist.
“Wash the spears—while I breathe.
Wash the spears—my steel is bright.
Wash the spears . . . ”
The chant faded to a murmur behind them as they passed into the wide, steep-walled gorge, deep and shadowed as it wound into the mountains. For minutes the loudest sounds were the clatter of hooves on stone, the whisper of soft Aiel boots. Abruptly the passage gave way to Alcair Dal.
Rand could see why the canyon had been called a bowl, though there was nothing golden about it. Almost perfectly round, its gray wall sloped all the way around except at the far end, where it curled inward like a breaking wave. Clusters of Aiel dotted the slopes, heads and faces bare, many more clusters than there were clans. The Taardad who had come with the sept chiefs peeled away toward one or another of those. According to Rhuarc, grouping by society rather than clan was an aid to keeping peace. Only his Red Shields and the Maidens continued on with Rand and the Taardad chiefs.
The sept chiefs of the other clans all sat by clan, cross-legged before a deep ledge beneath the curling overhang. Six small knots, one of Maidens, stood between the sept chiefs and the ledge. Supposedly these were the Aiel who had come for the honor of clan chiefs. Six, although only five clans were represented. Sevanna would have the Maidens—though Aviendha had been quick to point out that Sevanna had never been Far Dareis Mai—but the extra . . . Eleven men in that, not ten. Even seeing only the back of a flame-haired head, Rand was sure it was Couladin.
On the ledge itself stood a golden-haired woman in as much jewelry as the woman back at the fair tents, gray shawl draped over her arms—Sevanna, of course—and four clan chiefs, none armed save for his long belt knife, and one the tallest man Rand had ever seen. Bael of the Goshien Aiel, by the descriptions Rhuarc had given; the fellow had to be at least a hand taller than Rhuarc or himself. Sevanna was speaking, and some trick of the canyon’s shape carried her words clearly throughout.
“ . . . allow him to speak!” Her voice was tight and angry. Head high and back straight she tried to dominate the ledge by force of will. “I demand it as my right! Until a new chief is chosen, I stand for Suladric and the Shaido. I demand my right!”
“You stand for Suladric until a new chief is chosen, roofmistress.” The white-haired man who spoke in irascible tones was Han, clan chief of the Tomanelle. With a face like dark, wrinkled leather, he would have been taller than average in the Two Rivers; for an Aiel, he was short, if stocky. “I have no doubt you know the rights of a roofmistress well, but perhaps not so well those of a clan chief. Only one who has entered Rhuidean may speak here—and you, who stand in Suladric’s place”—Han did not sound happy about that, but then he sounded as if he was seldom happy—“but the dreamwalkers have told our Wise Ones Couladin was refused the right to enter Rhuidean.”
 “Have you no respect for custom and law, Shaido? Have you no honor? Stand silent here.”
A few eyes on the slopes turned to see who the newcomers were. A ripple of nudges brought more around at the sight of two outlanders on horseback at the head of the sept chiefs, and one of the riders followed close by Maidens. How many Aiel peered down at him, Rand wondered. Three thousand? Four? More? None made a sound.
“We have gathered here to hear a great announcement,” Bael said, “when all the clans have come.” His dark reddish hair was graying, too; there were no young men among clan chiefs. His great height and deep voice drew eyes to him. “When all the clans have come. If all Sevanna wishes to speak of now is letting Couladin speak, I will go back to my tents and wait.”
Jheran, of the Shaarad, blood enemy of Bael’s Goshien, was a slender man, gray streaked heavily through his light brown hair. Slender, as a steel blade is slender, he spoke to no one of the chiefs in particular. “I say we do not return to our tents. Since Sevanna has brought us in, let us discuss what is only somewhat less important than the announcement we await. Water. I wish to discuss the water at Chain Ridge Stand.” Bael turned toward him threateningly.
“Fools!” Sevanna snapped. “I will have done with waiting! I—”
It was then that those on the ledge became aware of the new arrivals. In utter silence they watched them approach, the clan chiefs frowning, Sevanna scowling. She was a pretty woman, well short of her middle years—and younger-looking for standing among men well the other side of theirs—but with a greedy mouth. The clan chiefs were dignified, even Han in a sour-mouthed fashion; her pale green eyes had a calculating look.  He could have known the men for clan chiefs by their manner; if Sevanna was a roofmistress, she was surely nothing like Lian.
Rhuarc strode straight to the ledge, gave his spears and buckler, his bow and quiver, to his Red Shields, and climbed up. Rand handed his reins to Mat—who muttered, “Luck with us!” as he eyed the surrounding Aiel; Adelin nodded encouragingly to Rand—and stepped straight from his saddle to the ledge. A startled murmur rolled around the canyon.
“What do you do, Rhuarc,” Han demanded, scowling, “bringing this wetlander here? If you will not kill him, at least send him down from standing like a chief.”
“This man, Rand al’Thor, has come to speak to the chiefs of the clans. Did not the dreamwalkers tell you that he would come with me?” Rhuarc’s words brought a louder murmur from the listeners.
“Melaine told me many things, Rhuarc,” Bael said slowly, frowning at Rand. “That He Who Comes With the Dawn had come out of Rhuidean. You cannot mean that this man . . . ” He trailed off in disbelief.
“If this wetlander can speak,” Sevanna said quickly, “so may Couladin.”
Han rounded on him. “Stand down, Couladin! It is bad enough that Rhuarc violates custom without you doing it as well!”
“It is time to be done with worn-out customs!” the fiery-haired Shaido shouted, stripping off his gray-and-brown coat. There was no need for shouting—his words echoed across the canyon—but he did not lower his voice. “I am He Who Comes With the Dawn!” Shoving shirtsleeves above his elbows, he thrust his fists into the air. Around each forearm wound a serpentine creature scaled in crimson and gold, glittering metallically feet each tipped with five golden claws, golden-maned heads resting on the backs of his wrists. Two perfect Dragons. “I am the Car’a’carn!” The roar that came back was like thunder, Aiel leaping to their feet and shouting joyously. The sept chiefs were on their feet, too, the Taardad clustered worriedly, the others shouting as loudly as anyone.
The clan chiefs looked stunned, even Rhuarc. Adelin and her nine Maidens hefted their spears as if they expected to use them any moment. Eyeing the gap leading out, Mat pulled his hat low and guided the two horses close to the ledge, motioning surreptitiously for Rand to get back into his saddle.
Sevanna smiled smugly, adjusting her shawl, as Couladin strode to the front of the ledge with his arms high. “I bring change!” he shouted. “According to the prophecy, I bring new days! We will cross the Dragonwall again, and take back what was ours! The wetlanders are soft, but rich! You remember the wealth brought back when last we went into the Wetlands! This time, we will take it all! This time . . . !”
Rand let the man’s tirade wash over him. Of things possible, he had never suspected this. How? The word kept sliding through his head, yet he could not believe how composed he was. Slowly he took off his coat, hesitating a moment before fishing the angreal from his pocket; sticking it into the waistband of his breeches, he dropped the coat and walked to the front of the ledge, calmly undoing the laces of his sleeves. They slid down as he raised his arms above his head.
It took a moment for the assembled Aiel to notice the Dragons wrapped around his arms, too, shining in the sunlight. Their hush came by increments, but it was total. Sevanna’s mouth dropped open; she had not known of this. Obviously Couladin had not thought Rand would follow so quickly, had not told her another bore the markings, too. How? The man must have believed he would have time; once he had established himself, Rand could be dismissed as a fraud. Light, how? If the roofmistess of Comarda Hold was stunned now, so were the clan chiefs, save only Rhuarc. Two men marked as prophecy said only one could be.
Couladin ranted on, waving his arms to make sure all saw. “ . . . will not stop with the lands of the oathbreakers! We will take all the lands to the Aryth Ocean! The wetlanders cannot stand against—” Suddenly he became aware of the silence where eager cries had been. He knew what had caused it. Without turning to look at Rand, he shouted, “Wetlander! Look at his clothes! A wetlander!”
“A wetlander,” Rand agreed. He did not raise his voice, but the canyon carried it to everyone. The Shaido looked startled for a moment, then grinned triumphantly—until Rand went on. “What does the Prophecy of Rhuidean say? ‘Born of the blood.’ My mother was Shaiel, a Maiden of the Chumai Taardad.” Who was she really? Where did she come from? “My father was Janduin, of the Iron Mountain sept, clan chief of the Taardad.” My father is Tam al’Thor. He found me, raised me, loved me. I wish I could have known you, Janduin, but Tam is my father. “ ‘Born of the blood, but raised by those not of the blood.’ Where did the Wise Ones send to look for me? Into the holds of the Three-fold Land? They sent across the Dragonwall, where I was raised. According to the prophecy.”
Bael and the other three nodded slowly, but reluctantly; there was still the matter of Couladin also bearing the Dragons, and doubtless they would rather have one of their own. Sevanna’s face had firmed; no matter who bore the real markings, there was no doubt whom she supported.
Couladin’s confidence never wavered; he sneered openly at Rand, the first time he had even looked at him. “How long since the Prophecy of Rhuidean was first spoken?” He still seemed to think he had to shout. “Who can say how much the words have changed? My mother was Far Dareis Mai before she gave up the spear. How much has the rest changed? Or been changed! It is said we once served the Aes Sedai. I say they mean to bind us to them once more! This wetlander was chosen because he resembles us! He is none of our blood! He came with Aes Sedai leading him on a leash! And the Wise Ones greeted them as they would first-sisters! You have all heard of Wise Ones who can do things beyond belief. The dreamwalkers used the One Power to keep me from this wetlander! They used the One Power, as Aes Sedai are said to do! The Aes Sedai have brought this wetlander here to bind us with fakery! And the dreamwalkers help them!”
“This is madness!” Rhuarc strode up beside Rand, staring out at the still silent gathering. “Couladin never went to Rhuidean, I heard the Wise Ones refuse him. Rand al’Thor did go. I saw him leave Chaendaer, and I saw him return, marked as you see.”
“And why did they refuse me?” Couladin snarled. “Because the Aes Sedai told them to! Rhuarc does not tell you that one of the Aes Sedai went down from Chaendaer with this wetlander! That is how he returned with the Dragons! By Aes Sedai witchery! My brother Muradin died below Chaendaer, murdered by this wetlander and the Aes Sedai Moiraine, and the Wise Ones, doing Aes Sedai bidding, let them walk free! When night came, I went to Rhuidean. I did not reveal myself until now because this is the proper place for the Car’a’carn to show himself! I am the Car’a’carn!”
Lies, touched with just enough flecks of truth. The man was all victorious confidence, sure he had an answer for anything.
“You say you went to Rhuidean without the permission of the Wise Ones?” Han demanded, frowning. Towering Bael looked just as disapproving with his arms folded, Erim and Jheran only slightly less so. The clan chiefs, at least, still wavered. Sevanna gripped her belt knife, glaring at Han as if she would like to drive it into his back.
Couladin had his answer, though. “Yes, without it! He Who Comes With the Dawn brings change! So says the prophecy! Useless ways must change, and I will change them! Did I not arrive here with the dawn?”
The clan chiefs stood balanced on the edge, and so did all the watching Aiel, all on their feet now, staring silently, waiting in their thousands. If Rand could not convince them, he likely would not leave Alcair Dal alive. Mat motioned again to Jeade’en’s saddle. Rand did not even bother to shake his head.
There was a consideration beyond getting out alive; he needed these people, needed their loyalty. He had to have people who followed him because they believed, not to use him, or for what he could give them. He had to.
“Rhuidean,” he said. The word seemed to fill the canyon. “You claim you went to Rhuidean, Couladin. What did you see there?”
“All know Rhuidean is not to be spoken of,” Couladin shot back.
“We can go apart,” Erim said, “and speak in private so you can tell us—” The Shaido cut him off, face flushed angrily.
“I will speak of it with no one. Rhuidean is a holy place, and what I saw was holy. I am holy!” He raised his Dragon marked arms again. “These make me holy!”
“I walked among glass columns beside Avendesora.” Rand spoke quietly, but the words carried everywhere. “I saw the history of the Aiel through my ancestors’ eyes. What did you see, Couladin? I am not afraid to speak. Are you?” The Shaido quivered with rage, face nearly the color of his fiery hair.
Uncertain looks passed between Bael and Erim, Jheran and Han. “We must go apart for this,” Han muttered.
Couladin did not seem to realize he had lost his advantage with the four, but Sevanna did. “Rhuarc has told him these things,” she spat.  Rhuarc has told him!”
“Rhuarc would not,” Han snapped at her. “He is clan chief, and a man of honor. Do not speak of what you do not know, Sevanna!”
“I am not afraid!” Couladin shouted. “No man can call me afraid! I, too, saw with my ancestors’ eyes! I saw our coming to the Three-fold Land! I saw our glory! The glory I will bring back to us!”
“I saw the Age of Legends,” Rand announced, “and the beginning of the Aiel journey to the Three-fold Land.”  This moment had been fated since the Aiel gathered before Rhuidean the first time. “I saw the Aiel when they were called the Da’shain Aiel, and followed the Way of the Leaf.”
“No!” The shout rose from out in the canyon and spread in a roar. “No! No!” From thousands of throats. Spearpoints shaken in the air caught the sunlight. Even some of the Taardad sept chiefs were shouting. Adelin stared up at Rand, stricken. Mat shouted something at Rand, lost in the thunder, waving urgently for him to take his saddle.
“Liar!” The canyon’s shape carried Couladin’s bellow, wrath mixed with triumph, over the shouts of the gathering. Shaking her head frantically, Sevanna reached for him. She must at least have suspected now that he was the fake, yet if she could keep him quiet they might yet pull it off. As Rand hoped, Couladin pushed her away. The man knew Rand had been to Rhuidean—he could not possibly believe half of his own story—but neither could he believe this. “He proves himself a fraud from his own mouth! We have always been warriors! Always! To the beginning of time!”
The roar swelled, spears shaking, but Bael and Erim, Jheran and Han stood in stony silence. They knew now. Unaware of their looks, Couladin waved his Dragon-wreathed arms to the assembled Aiel, exulting in the adulation.
“Why?” Rhuarc said softly beside Rand. “Did you not understand why we do not speak of Rhuidean? To face that we were once so different from everything we believe, that we were the same as the despised Lost Ones you call Tuatha’an. Rhuidean kills those who cannot face it. Not more than one man in three lives who goes to Rhuidean. And now you have spoken for all to hear. It cannot be stopped here, Rand al’Thor. It will spread. How many will be strong enough to bear it?”
 “I bring change,” Rand said sadly. “Not peace, but turmoil.” Destruction follows on my heels everywhere. Will there ever be anywhere I do not tear apart? “What will be, will be, Rhuarc. I can’t change it.”
“What will be, will be,” the Aielman murmured after a moment.
Couladin still strode up and down, shouting to the Aiel of glory and conquest, unaware of the clan chiefs staring at his back. Sevanna did not look at Couladin at all; her pale green eyes were intent on the clan chiefs, lips pulled back in a grimace, breasts heaving with anxious breaths. She had to know what their silent stares meant.
“Rand al’Thor,” Bael said loudly, the name slicing through Couladin’s shouts, cutting off the roar of the crowd like a blade. He stopped to clear his throat, head swinging as though seeking a way out of this. Couladin turned, folding his arms confidently, no doubt expecting a sentence of death for the wetlander. The very tall clan chief took a deep breath. “Rand al’Thor is the Car’a’carn. Rand al’Thor is He Who Comes With the Dawn.” Couladin’s eyes widened in incredulous fury.
“Rand al’Thor is He Who Comes With the Dawn,” leathery-faced Han announced, just as reluctantly.
“Rand al’Thor is He Who Comes With the Dawn.” That from Jheran, grimly, and from Erim, “Rand al’Thor is He Who Comes With the Dawn.”
“Rand al’Thor,” Rhuarc said, “is He Who Comes With the Dawn.” In a voice too soft to carry even from the ledge, he added, “And the Light have mercy on us.”
For a long, stretched moment the silence lasted. Then Couladin leaped snarling from the ledge, snatching a spear from one of his Seia Doon, hurling it straight at Rand. Yet as he moved down, Adelin leaped up; his spearpoint stabbed through the layered bullhide of her outstretched buckler, swinging her around.
Pandemonium exploded through the canyon, men shouting and shoving. The other Jindo Maidens jumped up beside Adelin, forming a screen in front of Rand. Sevanna had climbed down to shout urgently at Couladin, hanging on his arm as he tried to lead his Shaido Black Eyes against the Maidens between him and Rand. Heirn and a dozen more Taardad sept chiefs joined Adelin, spears ready, but others were shouting loudly. Mat scrambled up, gripping his black-hafted spear with its raven-marked sword point, roaring what had to be curses in the Old Tongue. Rhuarc and the other clan chiefs raised their voices, vainly trying to restore order. The canyon boiled like a cauldron. Rand saw veils lifted. A spear flashed, stabbing. Another. He had to stop this.
He reached out for saidin, and it flooded into him until he thought he would burst if he did not burn first; the filth of the taint spreading through him seemed to curdle his bones. Thought floated outside the Void; cold thought. Water. Here where water was so scarce, the Aiel always talked of water. Even in this dry air there was some water. He channeled, not really knowing what he did, reached out blindly.
Sharp lightning crackled above Alcair Dal, and the wind rushed in from every direction, howling across the lip of the canyon to drown the Aiel’s shouts. Wind, bringing minute traces of water, more and more, until something happened no man had ever seen there. A mist of rain began to fall. The wind above shrieked and swirled. Wild lightnings streaked the sky.
Abruptly the rain stopped hitting him; an invisible dome expanded around him, pushing Mat and the Taardad away. Through the water pouring down inside he could dimly see Adelin pounding at it, trying to force her way through to him.
 Wasting all my planning and effort!”

“I didn’t expect you to reveal yourself yet,” he said quietly, the Power still filled him; he rode the buffeting torrents, holding on with a desperation he kept out of his voice. It was not necessary to pull in more, only to let it come till it seemed his bones would crisp to ash. He did not know if she could shield him while saidin actually roared through him, but he let it fill him against the possibility. “I know you are not alone. Where is he?”
Lanfear’s beautiful mouth tightened. “I knew he would give himself away, coming into your dream. I could have managed matters if his panic—”
“I knew from the start,” he broke in. “I expected it from the day I left the Stone of Tear. Out here, where anyone could see I was fixed on Rhuidean and the Aiel. Do you think I did not expect some of you to come after me? But the trap is mine, Lanfear, not yours. Where is he?” The last came as a cold shout. Emotion skittered uncontrollably around the Void that surrounded him inside, the emptiness that was not empty, the emptiness filled with the Power.
 Scorn weighted the words like stones. “I brought Asmodean to teach you, but he was always one to leap to another plan if the first proved difficult. Now he thinks he has found something better for himself in Rhuidean. And he is off to take it while you stand here. Couladin, the Draghkar, all to hold your attention while he made sure. All my plans for nothing because you must be stubborn! Do you have any idea what effort it will take to convince him again? It must be him.
Rhuidean. Yes. Of course. Rhuidean. How many weeks to the south? Yet he had done something once. If he could remember how . . . “And you let him go? After all your talk of aiding me?”
“Not openly, I said! What could he find in Rhuidean worth my coming into the open? When you agree to stand with me will be time enough. Remember what I told you, Lews Therin.”  “Two great sa’angreal. With those, together, we can. challenge—” This time she stopped on her own. He had remembered.
With the Power he folded reality, bent a small patch of what was. A door opened beneath the dome in front of him. That was the only way to describe it. An opening into darkness, into somewhere else.
“You do remember a few things, it seems.” She eyed the doorway, shifted that suddenly suspicious gaze to him. “Why are you so anxious? What is in Rhuidean?”
“Asmodean,” he said grimly. For a moment he hesitated. He could not see beyond the rain-drenched dome. What was happening out there? And Lanfear. If only he could remember how he had shielded Egwene and Elayne. If only I could make myself kill a woman who’s only frowning at me. She is one of the Forsaken! It was no more possible now than it had been in the Stone.
Stepping through the door, he left her on the ledge and closed it behind him. No doubt she knew how to make one of her own, but the making of it would slow her down.


Manila
An Update on OpenStack's Shared File Services Program
May 18th, 2015
OpenStack Summit - Vancouver
Slide 1
Slide 2
<
Slide 2.1
Slide 2.1
## Slide 1 A paragraph with some text and a [link](http://hakim.se). --- --- ## Slide 3


MyFormation Alexandre de Souza Jr. Academic Experiences
Recife, Pernambuco, Brazil - Update April 19th, 2020
- Treina Recife (2020) - Creativity to Innovate
- Treina Recife (2019) - Bootcamp Java Web
- Federal University of Pernambuco
- Bachelor of Civil Engineering (2013-2018)
- Masters in Oil Reservoir Simulation (2018-2020)
- PhD in Oil Reservoir Simulation (2020-Current)
Licenses and Certificates
| # | Institute | Subject | Year |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Microsoft | Data Science Research Methods: Python Edition | 2020 |
| 3 | CREA-PE | Merit Diploma | 2019 |
| 3 | UFPE | Academic Award | 2018 |


(Deprecated API)
(Deprecated API)
(Deprecated API)
Includes enterprise licensing and support
Google Mapplets allow developers to create Google Gadgets that can be loaded by Google Maps users onto the main "shared" map along with other Mapplets, enabling the Google Maps user to easily create "mashups of mashups." They're a great way to reach a large audience of users, so most maps developers should consider creating Mapplet versions of their Maps API mashups. With this conversion guide, you should be able to convert your Maps API site into a Mapplet (in 60 minutes or less!). Please consult the Mapplets documentation for information on using the Developer Gadget to test that your Mapplet is working on Google Maps.
A Google Gadget is actually just JavaScript, HTML, and CSS tags inside an XML wrapper. In order to convert your Maps API site into a Mapplet, you should do the following:
HTML
/HEAD
/BODY
tags with the XML that
defines a Google Gadget. The root tag is named <Module>
, and all
your JavaScript/CSS/HTML now goes inside the <Content>
tag.
(Click to highlight)
<Content>
tag. The order that will generally produce the least problems down the road
is:


This is the 10th round-up already and React has come quite far since it was open sourced. Almost all new web projects at Khan Academy, Facebook, and Instagram are being developed using React. React has been deployed in a variety of contexts: a Chrome extension, a Windows 8 application, mobile websites, and desktop websites supporting Internet Explorer 8! Language-wise, React is not only being used within JavaScript but also CoffeeScript and ClojureScript.
The best part is that no drastic changes have been required to support all those use cases. Most of the efforts were targeted at polishing edge cases, performance improvements, and documentation.
Khan Academy - Officially moving to React #
Joel Burget announced at Hack Reactor that new front-end code at Khan Academy should be written in React!
How did we get the rest of the team to adopt React? Using interns as an attack vector! Most full-time devs had already been working on their existing projects for a while and weren't looking to try something new at the time, but our class of summer interns was just arriving. For whatever reason, a lot of them decided to try React for their projects. Then mentors became exposed through code reviews or otherwise touching the new code. In this way React knowledge diffused to almost the whole team over the summer.
Since the first React checkin on June 5, we've somehow managed to accumulate 23500 lines of jsx (React-flavored js) code. Which is terrifying in a way - that's a lot of code - but also really exciting that it was picked up so quickly.
We held three meetings about how we should proceed with React. At the first two we decided to continue experimenting with React and deferred a final decision on whether to adopt it. At the third we adopted the policy that new code should be written in React.
I'm excited that we were able to start nudging code quality forward. However, we still have a lot of work to do! One of the selling points of this transition is adopting a uniform frontend style. We're trying to upgrade all the code from (really old) pure jQuery and (regular old) Backbone views / Handlebars to shiny React. At the moment all we've done is introduce more fragmentation. We won't be gratuitously updating working code (if it ain't broke, don't fix it), but are seeking out parts of the codebase where we can shoot two birds with one stone by rewriting in React while fixing bugs or adding functionality.
React: Rethinking best practices #
Pete Hunt's talk at JSConf EU 2013 is now available in video.
Server-side React with PHP #
Stoyan Stefanov's series of articles on React has two new entries on how to execute React on the server to generate the initial page load.
This post is an initial hack to have React components render server-side in PHP.
- Problem: Build web UIs
- Solution: React
- Problem: UI built in JS is anti-SEO (assuming search engines are still noscript) and bad for perceived performance (blank page till JS arrives)
- Solution: React page to render the first view
- Problem: Can't host node.js apps / I have tons of PHP code
- Solution: Use PHP then!
Rendered markup on the server:
TodoMVC Benchmarks #
Webkit has a TodoMVC Benchmark that compares different frameworks. They recently included React and here are the results (average of 10 runs in Chrome 30):
- AngularJS: 4043ms
- AngularJSPerf: 3227ms
- BackboneJS: 1874ms
- EmberJS: 6822ms
- jQuery: 14628ms
- React: 2864ms
- VanillaJS: 5567ms
Please don't take those numbers too seriously, they only reflect one very specific use case and are testing code that wasn't written with performance in mind.
Even though React scores as one of the fastest frameworks in the benchmark, the React code is simple and idiomatic. The only performance tweak used is the following function:
/**
* This is a completely optional performance enhancement that you can implement
* on any React component. If you were to delete this method the app would still
* work correctly (and still be very performant!), we just use it as an example
* of how little code it takes to get an order of magnitude performance improvement.
*/
shouldComponentUpdate: function (nextProps, nextState) {
return (
nextProps.todo.id !== this.props.todo.id ||
nextProps.todo !== this.props.todo ||
nextProps.editing !== this.props.editing ||
nextState.editText !== this.state.editText
);
},
By default, React "re-renders" all the components when anything changes. This is usually fast enough that you don't need to care. However, you can provide a function that can tell whether there will be any change based on the previous and next states and props. If it is faster than re-rendering the component, then you get a performance improvement.
The fact that you can control when components are rendered is a very important characteristic of React as it gives you control over its performance. We are going to talk more about performance in the future, stay tuned.
 The goal is to guess which filter has been used to create the Instagram photo.
React vs FruitMachine #
Andrew Betts, director of the Financial Times Labs, posted an article comparing FruitMachine and React.
Eerily similar, no? Maybe Facebook was inspired by Fruit Machine (after all, we got there first), but more likely, it just shows that this is a pretty decent way to solve the problem, and great minds think alike. We're graduating to a third phase in the evolution of web best practice - from intermingling of markup, style and behaviour, through a phase in which those concerns became ever more separated and encapsulated, and finally to a model where we can do that separation at a component level. Developments like Web Components show the direction the web community is moving, and frameworks like React and Fruit Machine are in fact not a lot more than polyfills for that promised behaviour to come.
Even though we weren't inspired by FruitMachine (React has been used in production since before FruitMachine was open sourced), it's great to see similar technologies emerging and becoming popular.
React Brunch #
Matthew McCray implemented react-brunch, a JSX compilation step for Brunch.
Adds React support to brunch by automatically compiling
*.jsx
files.You can configure react-brunch to automatically insert a react header (
/** @jsx React.DOM */
) into all*.jsx
files. Disabled by default.Install the plugin via npm with
npm install --save react-brunch
.
Random Tweet #
I'm going to start adding a tweet at the end of each round-up. We'll start with this one:
This weekend #angular died for me. Meet new king #reactjs
— Eldar Djafarov ッ (@edjafarov) November 3, 2013


LORTUSS EX- codeine phosphate, guaifenesin and pseudoephedrine hydrochloride liquid
Sallus Laboratories, LLC
Disclaimer: Most OTC drugs are not reviewed and approved by FDA, however they may be marketed if they comply with applicable regulations and policies. FDA has not evaluated whether this product complies.
Active ingredients
(in each 5 mL teaspoonful)
Codeine Phosphate 10 mg
Guaifenesin 100 mg
Pseudoephedrine Hydrochloride 30 mg
temporarily relieves these symptoms due to the common cold, hay fever (allergic rhinitis) or other upper respiratory allergies:
Do not exceed recommended dosage.
Do not exceed recommended dosage.
| Adults and children 12 years of age and over: |
2 teaspoonfuls (10 mL) every 4 hours, not to exceed 8 teaspoonfuls in a 24-hour period or as directed by a doctor |
| Children 6 to under 12 years of age: |
1 teaspoonful (5 mL) every 4 hours, not to exceed 4 teaspoonfuls in a 24-hour period or as directed by a doctor |
| Children under 6 years of age: |
Consult a doctor |
Apple Cinnamon Flavor, Citric Acid, Glycerin, Methylparaben, Monoammonium Glycyrrhizinate, Potassium Citrate, Potassium Sorbate, Propylene Glycol, Propylparaben, Purified Water, Sorbitol, Sucralose
Serious side effects associated with use of this product may be reported to this number. Call 1-205-314-4780
Mon-Fri (8 a.m. to 5 p.m. CST) Iss. 06/14
Principal Display Panel
NDC 69036-130-16
LORTUSS EX
Antitussive / Expectorant / Decongestant
Each 5 mL (1 teaspoonful) contains:
Codeine Phosphate*................... 10 mg
*(WARNING: May be habit forming)
Guaifenesin.............................. 100 mg
Pseudoephedrine HCl................ 30 mg
Apple Cinnamon Flavor
Alcohol Free / Sugar Free
Dye Free
CV
16 fl. oz. (473 mL)
|
LORTUSS
EX codeine phosphate, guaifenesin, pseudoephedrine hydrochloride liquid | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
| Labeler - Sallus Laboratories, LLC (079418254) |
| Establishment | |||
| Name | Address | ID/FEI | Business Operations |
|---|---|---|---|
| TG United Liquid, Inc. | 830980947 | MANUFACTURE(69036-130) |


FreeRADIUS 'man' pages
Documentation from the server
radiusd.conf
Section: FreeRADIUS configuration file (5)Updated: 28 Jun 2013
Index Return to Main Contents
NAME
radiusd.conf - configuration file for the FreeRADIUS serverDESCRIPTION
The radiusd.conf file resides in the radius database directory, by default /etc/raddb. It defines the global configuration for the FreeRADIUS RADIUS server.CONTENTS
There are a large number of configuration parameters for the server. Most are documented in the file itself as comments. This page documents only the format of the file. Please read the radiusd.conf file itself for more information.The configuration file parser is independent of the server configuration. This means that you can put almost anything into the configuration file. So long as it is properly formatted, the server will start.
When the server parses the configuration file, it looks only for those configurations it understands. Extra configuration items are ignored. This "feature" can be (ab)used in certain interesting ways.
FILE FORMAT
The file format is line-based, like many other Unix configuration files. Each entry in the file must be placed on a line by itself, although continuations are supported.The file consists of configuration items (variable = value pairs), sections, and comments.
- Variables
-
Variables can be set via:
-
name = value
Single and double-quoted strings are permitted:
-
string1 = "hello world"
string2 = 'hello mom'
-
- Sections
-
A section begins with a section name, followed on the same line by an
open bracket '{'. Section may contain other sections, comments, or
variables. Sections may be nested to any depth, limited
only by available memory. A section ends with a close bracket
'}', on a line by itself.
-
section {
...
}
Sections can sometimes have a second name following the first one. The situations where this is legal depend on the context. See the examples and comments in the radiusd.conf file for more information.
-
section foo {
...
}
-
- Comments
-
Any line beginning with a (#) is deemed to be a comment, and is
ignored. Comments can appear after a variable or section definitions.
-
# comment
foo = bar # set variable 'foo' to value 'bar'
section { # start of section
...
} # end of section
-
- Continuations
-
Long lines can be broken up via continuations, using '\' as the last
character of the line. For example, the following entry:
-
foo = "blah \
blah \
blah"
will set the value of the variable "foo" to "blah blah blah". Any CR or LF is not turned into a space, but all other whitespace is preserved in the final value.
-
REFERENCES
The value of a variable can reference another variable. These references are evaluated when the configuration file is loaded, which means that there is no run-time cost associated with them. This feature is most useful for turning long, repeated pieces of text into short ones.Variables are referenced by ${variable_name}, as in the following examples.
-
foo = bar # set variable 'foo' to value 'bar'
who = ${foo} # sets variable 'who' to value of variable 'foo'
my = "${foo} a" # sets variable 'my' to "bar a"
If the variable exists in a section or subsection, it can be referenced as ${section.subsection.variable}. Forward references are not allowed. Relative references are allowed, by pre-pending the name with one or more period.
-
blogs = ${.foo}
Will set variable blogs to the value of variable foo, from the current section.
-
blogs = ${..foo}
Will set variable blogs to the value of variable foo, from the section which contains the current section.
-
blogs = ${modules.detail.filename}
Will set variable blogs to the value of variable filename, of the detail module, which is in the modules section of the configuration file.
Properties of anonymous parent sections may also be referenced, currently name and instance are supported.
-
modules { example foo { file = ${.:name} } }
Will set variable file to the name of the containing section (example).
-
modules { example foo { file = ${.:instance} } }
Will set variable file to the instance name of the containing section (foo).
-
modules { example foo { file = ${..:name} } }
Will set variable file to the name of the parent of the containing section (modules).
FILES
/etc/raddb/radiusd.confSEE ALSO
radiusd(8) unlang(5)AUTHOR
Alan DeKok<EMAIL_ADDRESS>Index
This document was created by man2html, using the manual pages.
Time: 17:19:42 GMT, March 12, 2018


Entrepreneur Dot New
I’m an entrepreneur. I don’t yet have a successful business. But I am building one. Using Lean Startup methodology a la Eric Reise.
I don’t know exactly what the end product I build will be or look like, just that there is a problem in the NYC DJ Market, an information gap so to speak. And it needs to be closed. There are far too many talented DJs and far too many places hiring shitty acts. There are far too many middle men where there needn’t be. Not enough data on how good a DJ is, how much they should be hired for, and where to find them.
I want to build a product that solves this market inefficiency.
I built a preliminary product, or MVP (minimum viable product). It’s the skeleton of a hiring network. There’s just no data in it (making it useless). The next step, therefore, is getting a ton of data on NYC DJs to present to NYC venues (my customer) to use as a hiring tool (think Elance for DJs). I figure once venues are using the product, then it won’t be hard to convince aspiring DJs to sign up on their own.
For the past few weeks, I was trying to figure out how to get this data as quickly as possible, so that I can quickly measure how the customer responds to the product and revamp the product based on that new knowledge (Eric Reise’s ‘build, measure, learn’ feedback loop). Today, I poured over Spotify and Soundcloud API docs and what I learned was promising. I may be able to get most of the data I need pretty easily.
Stay tuned for part II of this post.
“Entrepreneurship is a special kind of insanity” -me
UPDATE 1/9/15
I realized I never followed up on this post. Shortly after I wrote part I, I was able to get around 250 djs in my database from SoundCloud’s api!
How? Out of 8000 possible users I could have added, I filtered for ones that indicated they were in NY, included contact info in their bios and had a paid plan- this was my best way of distinguishing between regular users - aka non-DJs - and DJs. This way of filtering ended up working fairly well, although I had to do some manual filtering out of agencys and non-music related entities that also have accounts on SoundCloud (e.g. New York Magazine, Def Records). I also have a Tracks table and have taken about 5 demos for each DJ using their SoundCloud IDs. I was pretty psyched when that all worked out.