Well Well Well seems like a tough person, you completed stage 2 welcome to
stage 3, this time i will go easy on you....
Khul ja sim sim
Read This Story of 7000 words to find your clue
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Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He
had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face. The old
scar on his forehead, which was shaped like a bolt of lightning, was burning
beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his
skin. He sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other hand reaching out in
the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on
and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty orange light
that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the
window. Harry ran his fingers over the scar again. It was still painful. He
turned on the lamp beside him, scrambled out of bed, crossed the room, opened
his wardrobe, and peered into the mirror on the inside of the door.  He examined the lightning-bolt scar of his reflection more
closely. It looked normal, but it was still stinging. harry tried to recall
what he had been dreaming about before he had awoken. It had seemed so
real...There had been two people he knew and one he didn't ...He concentrated
hard, frowning, trying to remember... The dim picture of a darkened room came
to him...There had been a snake on a hearth rug...a small man called Peter,
nicknamed Wormtail...and a cold, high voice...the voice of Lord Voldemort.
Harry felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into his stomach at the very
thought... He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember what Voldemort had
looked like, but it was impossible...All Harry knew was that at the moment
when Voldemort's chair had swung around, and he, Harry, had seen what was
sitting in it, he had felt a spasm of horror, which had awoken him...or had
that been the pain in his scar? And who had the old man been? For there had
definitely been an old man; Harry had watched him fall to the ground. It was
all becoming confused. Harry put his face into his hands, blocking out his
bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was
like trying to keep water in his cupped hands; the details were now trickling
away as fast as he tried to hold on to them...Voldemort and Wormtail had been
talking about someone they had killed, though Harry could not remember the
name...and they had been plotting to kill someone else...him! Harry took his
face out of his hands, opened his eyes, and stared around his bedroom as
though expecting to see something unusual there. As it happened, there was an
extraordinary number of unusual things in this room.  Rolls of parchment littered that part of his
desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which his snowy owl,
Hedwig, usually perched. On the floor beside his bed a book lay open; Harry
had been reading it before he fell asleep last night. The pictures in this
book were all moving. Men in bright orange robes were zooming in and out of
sight on broomsticks, throwing a red ball to one another. Harry walked over to
the book, picked it up, and watched on of the wizards score a spectacular goal
by putting the ball through a fifty-foot-high hoop. Then he snapped the book
shut. Even Quidditch -- in Harry's opinion, the best sport in the world --
couldn't distract him at the moment. He placed Flying with the Cannons on his
bedside table, crossed to the window, and drew back the curtains to survey the
street below. haha Privet Drive looked exactly as a respectable suburban
street would be expected to look inthe early hours of Saturday morning. All
the curtains were closed. As far as Harry could see through the darkness,
there wasn't a living creature in sight, not even a cat. And yet...and
yet...Harry went restlessly back to the bed and sat down on it, running a
finger over his scar again. It wasn't the pain that bothered him; Harry was no
stranger to pain and injury. He had lost all the bones from his right arm once
and had them painfully regrown in a night. The same arm had been pierced by a
venemous foot-long fang not long afterward. Only last year Harry had fallen
fifty feet from an airborn broomstick. He was used to bizarre accidents and
injuries; they were unavoidable if you attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry and had a knack for attracting a lot of trouble. No, the thing
that was bothering Harry was the last time his scar had hurt him, it had been
because Voldemort had been close by...But Voldemort couldn't be here,
now...The idea of Voldemort lurking in Privet Drive was absurd, impossible...
Harry listened closely to the silence around him. Was he half expecting to
hear the creak of a stair or the swish of a cloak?  There was no
one in the house with him except Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, and
they were plainly still asleep, their dreams untroubled and painless.
haha Asleep was the way Harry liked the Dursleys best; it wasn't as though
they were ever any help to him awake. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley
were Harry's only living relatives. They were Muggles who hated and despised
magic in any form, which meant that Harry was about as welcome in their house
as dry rot. They had explained away Harry's long absences at Hogwarts over the
last three years by telling everyone that he went to St. Brutus's Secure
Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. They knew perfectly well that, as an
underage wizard, Harry wasn't allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts, but they
were still apt to blame him for anything that went wrong about the house.
Harry had never been able to confide in them or tell them anything about his
life in the wizarding world. The very idea of going to them when they awoke,
and telling them about his scar hurting him, and about his worries about
Voldemort, was laughable. And yet it was because of Voldemort that Harry had
come to live with the Dursleys in the first place. If it hadn't been for
Voldemort, Harry would not have had the lightning scar on his forehead. If it
hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would still have had parents...  Voldemort had then
turned his wand on Harry; he had performed the curse that had disposed of many
full-grown witches and wizards in his steady rise to power -- and, incredibly,
it had not worked.  Harry had survived with nothing but a lightning-shaped cut on
his forehead, and Voldemort had been reduced to something barely alive. His
powers gone, his life almost extinguished, Voldemort had fled; the terror in
which the secret community of witches and wizards had lived for so long had
lifted, Voldemort's followers had disbanded, and Harry Potter had become
famous. It had been enough of a shock for Harry to discover, on his eleventh
birthday, that he was a wizard; it had been even more disconcerting to find
out that everyone in the hidden wizarding world knew his name. Harry had
arrived at Hogwarts to find that heads turned and whispers followed him
wherever he went. But he was used to it now: At the end of this summer, he
would be starting his fourth year at Hogwarts, and Harry was already counting
the days until he would be back at the castle again. But there was still a
fortnight to go before he went back to school. He looked hopelessly around his
room again, and his eye paused on the birthday cards his two best friends had
sent him at the end of July. What would they say if Harry wrote to them and
told them about his scar hurting? At once, Hermione Granger's voice seemed to
fill his head, shrill and panicky . "Your scar hurt? Harry, that's really
serious.... Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I'll go and check Common
Magical Ailments and Afflictions.... Maybe there's something in there about
curse scars. . . ." Yes, that would be Hermione's advice: Go straight to the
headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. Harry stared out
of the window at the inky blue-black sky. He doubted very much whether a book
could help him now. As far as he knew, he was the only living person to have
survived a curse like Voldemort's; it was highly unlikely, therefore, that he
would find his symptoms listed in Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. As
for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during
the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore,
with his long silver beard, full length wizard's robes, and pointed hat,
stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long
crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig
would be able to find him; Harry's owl had never yet failed to deliver a
letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear
Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning.
Yours sincerely, Harry Potter.
And so he tried to imagine his other best friend, Ron Weasley's, reaction, and
in a moment, Ron's red hair and long-nosed, freckled face seemed to swim
before Harry, wearing a bemused expression. "Your scar hurt? But ... but
You-Know-Who can't be near you now, can he? I mean ... you'd know, wouldn't
you? He'd be trying to do you in again, wouldn't be? I dunno, Harry, maybe
curse scars always twinge a bit... I'll ask Dad. . . ." Mr. Weasley was a
fully qualified wizard who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at
the Ministry of Magic, but he didn't have any particular expertise in the
matter of curses, as far as Harry knew. In any case, Harry didn't like the
idea of the whole Weasley family knowing that he, Harry, was getting jumpy
about a few moments' pain. Mrs. Weasley would fuss worse than Hermione, and
Fred and George, Ron's sixteen-year- old twin brothers, might think Harry was
losing his nerve. The Weasleys were Harry's favorite family in the world; he
was hoping that they might invite him to stay any time now (Ron had mentioned
something about the Quidditch World Cup), and he somehow didn't want his visit
punctuated with anxious inquiries about his scar. Harry kneaded his forehead
with his knuckles. What he really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit
it to himself) was someone like - someone like a parent: an adult wizard whose
advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who
had had experience with Dark Magic.... And then the solution came to him. It
was so simple, and so obvious, that he couldn't believe it had taken so long -
Sirius. Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room, and sat down at
his desk; he pulled a piece of parchment toward him, loaded his eagle-feather
quill with ink, wrote Dear Sirius, then paused, wondering how best to phrase
his problem, still marveling at the fact that he hadn't thought of Sirius
straight away.  There was a
simple reason for Sirius's complete absence from Harry's life until then -
Sirius had been in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard jail guarded by creatures
called dementors, sightless, soul-sucking fiends who had come to search for
Sirius at Hogwarts when he had escaped. Yet Sirius had been innocent - the
murders for which he had been convicted had been committed by Wormtail,
Voldemort's supporter, whom nearly everybody now believed dead. Harry, Ron,
and Hermione knew otherwise, however; they had come face-to-face with Wormtail
only the previous year, though only Professor Dumbledore had believed their
story. For one glorious hour, Harry had believed that he was leaving the
Dursleys at last, because Sirius had offered him a home once his name had been
cleared. But the chance had been snatched away from him - Wormtail had escaped
before they could take him to the Ministry of Magic, and Sirius had had to
flee for his life. Harry had helped him escape on the back of a hippogriff
called Buckbeak, and since then, Sirius had been on the run. The home Harry
might have had if Wormtail had not escaped had been haunting him all summer.
It had been doubly hard to return to the Dursleys knowing that he had so
nearly escaped them forever. Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to
Harry, even if he couldn't be with him. It was due to Sirius that Harry now
had all his school things in his bedroom with him. The Dursleys had never
allowed this before; their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as
possible, coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to lock his
school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs every summer prior to this. But
their attitude had changed since they had found out that Harry had a dangerous
murderer for a godfather - for Harry had conveniently forgotten to tell them
that Sirius was innocent. Harry had received two letters from Sirius since he
had been back at Privet Drive. Both had been delivered, not by owls (as was
usual with wizards), but by large, brightly colored tropical birds. Hedwig had
not approved of these flashy intruders; she had been most reluctant to allow
them to drink from her water tray before flying off again. Harry, on the other
hand, had liked them; they put him in mind of palm trees and white sand, and
he hoped that, wherever Sirius was (Sirius never said, in case the letters
were intercepted), he was enjoying himself. Somehow, Harry found it hard to
imaging dementors surviving for long in bright sunlight, perhapse that was why
Sirius had gone South. Sirius's letters, which were now hidden beneath the
highly useful loose floorboards under Harry's bed, sounded chearful, and in
both of them he had reminded Harry to call on him if ever Harry needed to.
Well, he needed to right now, all right... Harry's lamp seemed to grow dimmer
as the cold gray light that precedes sunrise slowly crept into the room.
Finally, when the sun had risen, when his bedroom walls had turned gold, and
when sounds of movement could be heard from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's
room, Harry cleared his desk of crumpled pieces of parchment and reread his
finished letter. Dear Sirius, Thanks for your last letter. That bird was
enormous; it could hardly get through my window. Things are the same as usual
here. Dudley's diet isn't going too well. My aunt found him smuggling
doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him they'd have to cut his pocket
money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation
out of the window. That's a sort of computer thing you can play games on.  I'm okay, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might
turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to. A weird thing happened
this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was
because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don't reckon he can be anywhere near
me now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterward?
I'll send this with Hedwig when she gets back; she's off hunting at the
moment. Say hello to Buckbeak for me. Harry Yes, thought Harry, that looked
all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn't want it to look
as though he was too worried. He folded up the parchment and laid it aside on
his desk, ready for when Hedwig returned. Then he got to his feet, stretched,
and opened his wardrobe once more. Without glancing at his reflection he
started to get dressed before going down to breakfast. The villagers of Little
Hangleron still called it "the Riddle House," even though it had been many
years since the Riddle family had lived there. It stood on a hill overlooking
the village, some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy
spreading unchecked over its face. Once a fine-looking manor, and easily the
largest and grandest building for miles around, the Riddle House was now damp,
derelict, and unoccupied. The Little Hagletons all agreed that the old house
was "creepy." Half a century ago, something strange and horrible had happened
there, something that the older inhabitants of the village still liked to
discuss when topics for gossip were scarce. The story had been picked over so
many times, and had been embroidered in so many places, that nobody was quite
sure what the truth was anymore. Every version of the tale, however, started
in the same place: Fifty years before, at daybreak on a fine summer's morning
when the Riddle House had still been well kept and impressive, a maid had
entered the drawing room to find all three Riddles dead. The maid had run
screaming down the hill into the village and roused as many people as she
could. "Lying there with their eyes wide open! Cold as ice! Still in their
dinner things!" The police were summoned, and the whole of Little Hangleton
had seethed with shocked curiosity and ill-disguised excitement. Nobody wasted
their breath pretending to feel very sad about the Riddles, for they had been
most unpopular. Elderly Mr. and Mrs. Riddle had been rich, snobbish, and rude,
and their grown-up son, Tom, had been, if anything, worse. All the villagers
cared about was the identity of their murderer -- for plainly, three
apparently healthy people did not all drop dead of natural causes on the same
night. The Hanged Man, the village pub, did a roaring trade that night; the
whole village seemed to have turned out to discuss the murders. They were
rewarded for leaving their firesides when the Riddles' cook arrived
dramatically in their midst and announced to the suddenly silent pub that a
man called Frank Bryce had just been arrested. "Frank!" cried several people.
"Never!" Frank Bryce was the Riddles' gardener. He lived alone in a run-down
cottage on the grounds of the Riddle House. Frank had come back from the war
with a very stiff leg and a great dislike of crowds and loud noises, and had
been working for the Riddles ever since. There was a rush to buy the cook
drinks and hear more details. "Always thought he was odd," she told the
eagerly listening villagers, after her fourth sherry. "Unfriendly, like. I'm
sure if I've offered him a cuppa once, I've offered it a hundred times. Never
wanted to mix, he didn't." "Ah, now," said a woman at the bar, "he had a hard
war, Frank. He likes the quiet life. That's no reason to --" "Who else had a
key to the back door, then?" barked the cook. "There's been a spare key
hanging in the gardener's cottage far back as I can remember! Nobody forced
the door last night! No broken windows! All Frank had to do was creep up to
the big house while we was all sleeping..." The villagers exchanged dark
looks. "I always thought that he had a nasty look about him, right enough,"
grunted a man at the bar. "War turned him funny, if you ask me," said the
landlord. "Told you I wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of Frank, didn't
I, Dot?" said an excited woman in the corner. "Horrible temper," said Dot,
nodding fervently. "I remember, when he was a kid..." By the following
morning, hardly anyone in Little Hangleton doubted that Frank Bryce had killed
the Riddles. But over in the neighboring town of Great Hangleton, in the dark
and dingy police station, Frank was stubbornly repeating, again and again,
that he was innocent, and that the only person he had seen near the house on
the day of the Riddles' deaths had been a teenage boy, a stranger, dark-haired
and pale. Nobody else in the village had seen any such boy, and the police
were quite sure Frank had invented him. Then, just when things were looking
very serious for Frank, the report on the Riddles' bodies came back and
changed everything. The police had never read an odder report. A team of
doctors had examined the bodies and had concluded that none of the Riddles had
been poisoned, stabbed, shot, strangles, suffocated, or (as far as they could
tell) harmed at all. In fact (the report continued, in a tone of unmistakable
bewilderment), the Riddles all appeared to be in perfet health -- apart from
the fact that they were all dead. The doctors did note (as though determined
to find something wrong with the bodies) that each of the Riddles had a look
of terror upon his or her face -- but as the frustrated police said, whoever
heard of three people being frightened to death? As there was no proof that
the Riddles had been murdered at all, the police were forced to let Frank go.
The Riddles were buried in the Little Hangleton churchyard, and their graves
remained objects of curiosity for a while. To everyone's surprise, and amid a
cloud of suspicion, Frank Bryce returned to his cottage on the grounds of the
Riddle House.  "And if he had any decency, he'd
leave here, knowing as how we knows he did it." But Frank did not leave. He
stayed to tend the garden for the next family who lived in the Riddle House,
and then the next -- for neither family stayed long. Perhaps it was partly
because of Frank that the new owners said there was a nasty feeling about the
place, which, in the absence of inhabitants, started to fall into disrepair.
The wealthy man who owned the Riddle House these days neither lived there nor
put it to any use; they said in the village that he kept it for "tax reasons,"
though nobody was very clear what these might be. The wealthy owner continued
to pay Frank to do the gardening, however. Frank was nearing his
seventy-seventh birthday now, very deaf, his bad leg stiffer than ever, but
could be seen pottering around the flower beds in fine weather, even though
the weeds were starting to creep up on him, try as he might to suppress them.
Weeds were not the only things Frank had to contend with either. Boys from the
village made a habit of throwing stones through the windows of the Riddle
House. They rode their bicycles over the lawns Frank worked so hard to keep
smooth. Once or twice, they broke into the old house for a dare. They knew
that old Frank's devotion to the house and the grounds amounted almost to an
obsession, and it amused them to see him limping across the garden,
brandishing his stick and yelling croakily at them. Frank, for his part,
believed the boys tormented him because they, like their parents and
grandparents, though him a murderer. So when Frank awoke one night in August
and saw something very odd up at the old house, he merely assumed that the
boys had gone one step further in their attempts to punish him. It was Frank's
bad leg that woke him; it was paining him worse than ever in his old age. He
got up and limped downstairs into the kitchen with the idea of refilling his
hot-water bottle to ease the stiffness in his knee. Standing at the sink,
filling the kettle, he looked up at the Riddle House and saw lights glimmering
in its upper windows. Frank knew at once what was going on. The boys had
broken into the house again, and judging by the flickering quality of the
light, they had started a fire. Frank had no telephone, in any case, he had
deeply mistrusted the police ever since they had taken him in for questioning
about the Riddles' deaths. He put down the kettle at once, hurried back
upstairs as fast as his bad leg would allow, and was soon back in his kitchen,
fully dressed and removing a rusty old key from its hook by the door. He
picked up his walking stick, which was propped against the wall, and set off
into the night. The front door of the Riddle House bore no sign of being
forced, nor did any of the windows. Frank limped around to the back of the
house until he reached a door almost completely hidden by ivy, took out the
old key, put it into the lock, and opened the door noiselessly. He let himself
into the cavernous kitchen. Frank had not entered it for many years;
nevertheless, although it was very dark, he remembered where the door into the
hall was, and he groped his way towards it, his nostrils full of the smell of
decay, ears pricked for any sound of footsteps or voices from overhead. He
reached the hall, which was a little lighter owing to the large mullioned
windows on either side of the front door, and started to climb the stairs,
blessing the dust that lay thick upon the stone, because it muffled the sound
of his feet and stick. On the landing, Frank turned right, and saw at once
where the intruders were: At the every end of the passage a door stood ajar,
and a flickering light shone through the gap, casting a long sliver of gold
across the black floor. Frank edged closer and closer, he was able to see a
narrow slice of the room beyond. The fire, he now saw, had been lit in the
grate. This surprised him. Then he stopped moving and listened intently, for a
man's voice spoke within the room; it sounded timid and fearful. "There is a
little more in the bottle, My Lord, if you are still hungry." "Later," said a
second voice. This too belonged to a man -- but it was strangely high-pitched,
and cold as a sudden blast of icy wind. Something about that voice made the
sparse hairs on the back of Frank's neck stand up. "Move me closer to the
fire, Wormtail." Frank turned his right ear toward the door, the better to
hear. There came the clink of a bottle being put down upon some hard surface,
and then the dull scraping noise of a heavy chair being dragged across the
floor. Frank caught a glimpse of a small man, his back to the door, pushing
the chair into place.  Then he went out of sight again. "Where is
Nagini?" said the cold voice. "I -- I don't know, My Lord," said the first
voice nervously. "She set out to explore the house, I think..." "You will milk
her before we retire, Wormtail," said the second voice. "I will need feeding
in the night. The journey has tired me greatly." Brow furrowed, Frank inclined
his good ear still closer to the door, listening very hard. There was a pause,
and then the man called Wormtail spoke again. "My Lord, may I ask how long we
are going to stay here?" "A week," said the cold voice. "Perhapse longer. The
place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be
foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over." Frank inserted a
gnarled finger into his ear and rotated it. Owing, no doubt, to a buildup of
earwax, he had heard the word "Quidditch," which was not a word at all. "The
-- the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord?" said Wormtail. (Frank dug his finger
still more vigorously into his ear.) open stage4babynow dot herokuapp dot com
in your browser don't forget to add h t t p s before it"Forgive me, but -- I
do not understand -- why should we wait until the World Cup is over?"
"Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from
all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on
duty, on the watch for signs of ususual activity, checking and double-checking
identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice
anything. So we wait." Frank stopped trying to clear out his ear. He had
distinctly heard the words "Ministry of Magic," "wizards," and "Muggles."
Plainly, each of these expressions meant something secret, and Frank could
think of only two sorts of people who would speak in code: spies and criminals
. Frank tightened his hold on his walking stick once more, and listened more
closely still. "Your Lordship is still determined, then?" Wormtail said
quietly. "Certainly I am determined, Wormtail." There was a note of menace in
the cold voice now. A slight pause followed -- and the Wormtail spoke, the
words tumbling from him in a rush, as though he was forcing himself to say
this before he lost his nerve. "It could be done without Harry Potter, My
Lord." Another pause, more protracted, and then -- "Without Harry Potter?"
breathed the second voice softly. "I see..." "My Lord, I do not say this out
of concern for the boy!" said Wormtail, his voice rising squeakily. "The boy
is nothing to me, nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another
witch or wizard -- any wizard -- the thing could be done so much more quickly!
If you allowed me to leave you for a short while -- you know that I can
disguise myself most effectively -- I could be back here in as little as two
days with a suitable person --" "I could use another wizard," said the cold
voice softly, "that is true..." "My Lord, it makes sense," said Wormtail,
sounding thoroughly relieved now. "Laying hands on Harry Potter would be so
difficult, he is so well protected --" "And so you volunteer to go and fetch
me a substitute? I wonder...perhaps the task of nursing me has become
wearisome for you, Wormtail? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be
nothing more than an attempt to desert me?" "My Lord! I -- I have no wish to
leave you, none at all --" "Do not lie to me!" hissed the second voice. "I can
always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I
revolt you. I see you flinch when you look at me, feel you shudder when you
touch me..." "No! My devotion to Your Lordship --" "Your devotion is nothing
more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go. How
am I to survive without you, when I need feeding every few hours? Who is to
milk Nagini?" "But you seem so much stronger, My Lord --" "Liar," breathed the
second voice. "I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob
me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy care. Silence!"
Wormtail, who had been sputtering incoherently, fell silent at once. For a few
seconds, Frank could hear nothing but the fire crackling. The the second man
spoke once more, in a whisper that was almost a hiss. "I have my reasons for
using the boy, as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other. I
have waited thirteen years. A few more months will make no difference. As for
the protection surrounding the boy, I believe my plan will be effective. All
that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormtail -- courage you will
find, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord Voldermort's wrath --"
"My Lord, I must speak!" said Wormtail, panic in his voice now. "All through
our journey I have gone over the plan in my head -- My Lord, Bertha Jorkin's
disappearance will not go unnoticed for long, and if we proceed, if I murder
--" "If?" whispered the second voice. "If? If you follow the plan, Wormtail,
the Ministry need never know that anyone else has died. You will do it quietly
and without fuss; I only wish that i could do it myself, but in my present
condition...Come, Wormtail, one more death and our path to Harry Potter is
clear. I am not asking you to do it alone. By that time, my faithful serant
will have rejoined us --" "I am a faithful servant," said Wormtail, the merest
trace of sullenness in his voice. "Wormtail, I need somebody with brains,
somebody whose loyalty has never wavered, and you, unfortunately, fulfill
neither requirement." "I found you," said Wormtail, and there was definitely a
sulky edge to his voice now. "I was the one who found you. I brought you
Bertha Jorkins." "That is true," said the second man, sounding amused. "A
stroke of brilliance I would not have thought possible from you, Wormtail --
though, if truth be told, you were not aware how useful she would be when you
caught her, were you?" "I -- I thought she might be useful, My Lord --"
"Liar," said the second voice again, the cruel amusement more pronounced than
ever. "However, I do not deny that her information was invaluable. Without it,
I could never have formed our plan, and for that, you will have your reward,
Wormtail. I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many
of my followers would give their right hands to perform..." "R-really, My
Lord? What -- ?" Wormtail sounded terrified again. "Ah, Wormtail, you don't
want me to spoil the surprise? Your part will come at the very end...but I
promise you, you will have the honor of being just as useful as Bertha
Jorkins." "You...you..." Wormtail's voice suddenly sounded hoarse, as though
his mouth had gone very dry.  "Wormtail,
Wormtail," said the cold voice silkily, "why would I kill you? I killed Bertha
because I had to.
In any case, awkward questions would have been asked if she had gone back to
the Ministry with the news that she had met you on her holidays. Wizards who
are supposed to be dead would do well not to run into Ministry of Magic
witches at wayside inns..." Wormtail muttered something so quietly that Frank
could not hear it, but it made the second man laugh -- an entirely mirthless
laugh, cold as his speech. "We could have modified her memory? But Memory
Charms can be broken by a powerful wizard, as I proved when I questioned her.
It would be an insult to her memory not to use the information I extracted
from her, Wormtail." Out in the corridor, Frank suddenly became aware that the
hand gripping his walking stick was slippery with sweat. The man with the cold
voice had killed a woman. He was talking about it without any kind of remorse
-- with amusement. He was dangerous -- a madman. And he was planning more
murders -- this boy, Harry Potter, whoever he was -- was in danger -- Frank
knew what he must do. Now, if ever, was the time to go to the police. He would
creep out of the house and head straight for the telephone box in the
village...but the cold voice was speaking again, and Frank remained where he
was, frozen to the spot, listening with all his might. "One more murder...my
faithful servant at Hogwarts...Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail. It
is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet...I think I hear
Nagini..." And the second man's voice changed. He started making noises such
as Frank had never heard before; he was hissing and spitting without drawing
breath. Frank thought he must be having some sort of fit or seizure. And then
Frank heard movement behind him in the dark passageway. He turned to look, and
found himself paralyzed with fright. Something was slithering toward him along
the dark corridor floor, and as it drew nearer to the sliver of firelight, he
realized with a thrill of terror that it was a gigantic snake, at least twelve
feet long. Horrified, transfixed, Frank stared as its undulating body cut a
wide, curving track through the thick dust on the floor, coming closer and
closer -- What was he to do? The only means of escape was into the room where
the two men sat plotting murder, yet if he stayed where he was the snake would
surely kill him -- But before he had made his decision, the snake was level
with him, and then, incredibly, miraculously, it was passing; it was following
the spitting, hissing noises made by the cold voice beyond the door, and in
seconds, the tip of its diamond-patterned tail had vanished through the gap.
There was sweat on Frank's forehead now, and the hand on the walking stick was
trembling. Inside the room, the cold voice was continuing to hiss, and Frank
was visited by a strange idea, an impossible idea...This man could talk to
snakes. Frank didn't understand what was going on. He wanted more than
anything to be back in his bed with his hot-water bottle. The problem was that
his legs didn't seem to want to move. As he stood there shaking and trying to
master himself, the cold voice switched abruptly to English again. "Nagini has
interesting news, Wormtail," it said. "In-indeed, My Lord?" said Wormtail.
"Indeed, yes," said the voice, "According to Nagini, there is an old Muggle
standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say." Frank
didn't have a chance to hide himself. There were footsteps and then the door
of the room was flung wide open. A short, balding man with graying hair, a
pointed nose, and small, watery eyes stood before Frank, a mixture of fear and
alarm in his face. "Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are your manners?" The
cold voice was coming from the ancient armchair before the fire, but Frank
couldn't see the speaker. the snake, on the other hand, was curled up on the
rotting hearth rug, like some horrible travesty of a pet dog. Wormtail
beckoned Frank into the room. Though still deeply shaken, Frank took a firmer
grip on his walking stick and limped over the threshold. The fire was the only
source of light in the room; it cast long, spidery shadows upon the walls.
Frank stared at the back of the armchair; the man inside it seemed to be even
smaller than his servant, for Frank couldn't even see the back of his head.
"You heard everything, Muggle?" said the cold voice. "What's that you're
calling me?" said Frank defiantly, for now that he was inside the room, now
that the time had come for some sort of action, he felt braver; it had always
been so in the war. "I am calling you a Muggle," said the voice coolly. "It
means that you are not a wizard." "I don't know what you mean by wizard," said
Frank, his voice growing steadier. "All I know is I've heard you're planning
more! And I'll tell youthis too," he added, on a sudden inspiration, "my wife
knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back --" "You have no wife," said te
cold voice, very quietly. "Nobody knows you are here.  Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows...he always
knows..." "Is that right?" said Frank roughly. "Lord, is it? Well, I don't
think much of your manners, My Lord.  "But I am not a man, Muggle," said the cold voice, barely audible
now over the crackling of the flames. "I am much, much more than a man.
However...why not?  The
servant gave a whimper. "You heard me, Wormtail." Slowly, with his face
screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything than approach his
master and the hearth rug where the snake lay, the small man walked forward
and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its ugly triangular head and
hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on its rug. And then the
chair was facing Frank, and he saw what was sitting in it. His walking stick
fell to the floor with a clatter. He opened his mouth and let out a scream. He
was screaming so loudly that he never heard the words the thing in the chair
spoke as it raised a wand. There was a flash of green light, a rushing sound,
and Frank Bryce crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor. Two hundred
miles away, the boy called Harry Potter woke with a start.


And Then, the Paranoia Set in...
Lemme begin by sayin, watch out when you use meth! It's addictive shit! Me and my buddy lost 10 lb in a week on a meth binge so be careful!
Any prices quoted here are in CANADIAN. Multiply it by 1.55 for generic US exchange.
I have what's known as a RETENTIVE MEMORY, meaning I can recall things from memory in excruciating detail, so if you're not in the mood for a long, story-like trip report, stop reading right now!
This was my and my 2 buddies' first time usin meth. We'd gotten bored with a weed high and were looking for something that was 'bigger and better' and a friend of mine had told me stories of several of his own meth experiences. It sounded interesting so I decided this would be my 'bigger and better'.
I went over to B's house and called him on his complex intercom, I told him I had $20 and I wanted to buy something different today. He came out and we went back to my house. I called D and told him what was going down, he came over. D arrives and we go up to the Hotbox Hotel (our own personal house/fort in the local forest about 30 feet off the ground, 2 floors, carpet, walls, etc. it's a HOUSE!). Once we arrive there I use D's cell to call the dealer I was going to buy off of.
The Convo...
-----------------------------------
*dialing*
>ring<>
>ring<>
Dealer: Hello?
Me: Hey, got any ice?
Dealer: Yeah, how much?
Me: 2 pointer (Note: 2.0 grams)
Dealer: Meet me in 5 at the library parking lot
Me: Aight
>click<>
-----------------------------------
I told B and D to wait behind and I biked over to the parking lot (thankfull it's near the Hotbox Hotel!). As he'd said, the dealer arrives 5 minutes later, I walk up pretending that I know him (knowing how this car dealing thing works from past weed experiences), and lean in the window, I look down at the dealers lap and there sits my baggie, I drop the $20 bill and pick up my baggie. 'This 2 grams?' I ask. '2.5 actually' he replies. I'm pleased with this, we smile, nod, I walk away, he drives off.
I bike back to the fort and I pull out my bulb, I empty the full 2.5 grams into my bulb and put the lid on it (Earlier I'd fashioned a lid for my bulb out of tin foil and electrical tape, works like a charm!) and melt it down. I take the lid off and inhale the vapors produced when I melted it.  We wait for the pool of heaven in the bulb to cool into a large milky crystal. Once cooled, we heated up my first hit. The bulb is completely white. It looks like it did when it was new, before I'd cleaned it out.
 I inhale steadily and the bulb is half empty before I feel inside my lungs that I cannot take any more. I pull away and put the cap back on. I hold it in for a few seconds and exhale in B's direction. The cloud I exhale is so milky B's head disappears from view. All 3 of us think this is an amazing phenomenon and there is a 'Woah...' from all of us. I realize half my bulb is still full (fuller actually, as the hot glass made more vapor while I was exhalling etc.) and I uncap it and inhale the remaining vapor. This time I exhale in D's direction. Again his head disappears in the milky white cloud I exhale and we all 'Woah...' again.
I feel the head rush a few seconds later. A blinding surge of energy that makes me need to sit back. I sigh contentedly. I feel wonderful. B is nagging me for his hit. I sit up and heat him up a hit equal to mine. I pass him the bulb and he uncaps it and inhales half the bulb like I did. He gags and exhales some of his hit, he waits a second and blows out at me. Everything turns white and I stay in the white void for a few seconds after the smoke has gone. Reality fades back and all 3 of us 'Woah...' again. B finishes his hit, coping with the taste this time and exhales at D, the 3 of us remain silent this time, the phoenomena having gotten old already. B hands me the bulb back and I heat up D a hit. As I finish heating the hit up, B's hits kick in and he sits back and smiles, he blisses out for about 40 seconds during which D takes his 2 hits.
I lean back and watch D cap the bulb and put it beside me. I realize how much is left and smile to myself. We all bliss out for about 10 minutes before realizing we still have money. We pool together and come up with another $20. We go over to our regular weed dealers house and buy 2 joints (1 gram, $10) and a gram of oil (also $10). We return to the fort and snip up the bud. We give 2 Zig-Zags a nice thick layer of the oil. The oil is smooth and creamy and is a beatuiful gold color, one of the better batches I've bought from her before. We roll 2 joints with the oil papers and I put them behind each ear. There's still about $5 of oil left and D has a cig, so we decide to do oil hoots off it. We cut a pop bottle in half and use it as a hooter. We smoke the remainder of the oil in this fashion and kick back and chill for a bit. I pull my discman out of my bag and put some music on.
Right about now everything is a bit fuzzy in my memory, I'll do my best to recall it.
After putting my music on we did more bulb hits, and we smoke the large puddle way down. The entire inside of the bulb is now covered in a thick layer of white residue, which I planned earlier on saving for later. There's still about 0.2 grams of the large puddle left and I decide to save it for later with the coating of residue. I cap the bulb and put it in my bag.
I take one of the oil joints from my ear and light it. It goes around forever, the oil creating a professional slow burn. We're trippin hard when we roach the first joint. I pull out the second one and we repeat. We fall on our asses hard. Life fades away and we all enter a void where there's just the 3 of us in a warm, dark void. Nothing exists outside of the void, but we don't really exist inside the void. It's a very interesting effect. We enjoy this feeling for an unknown amount of time. We then venture outside the fort to the ground below, we find wood and nails and the energy boost from all the meth kicks in.
We spend the next several hours working on the extension to the fort we've been making. 6:00p swings around and D's parents phone and tell him to come home for dinner, so he leaves. Me and B still have a half hour before he has to go. By now the weed has worn off but we're still tweaking hard. Can't stop moving, can't sit still. Can't stop talking, talking extremely fast. We can only understand each other because we're both in this same hyperactive state. Me and B chill for a while until 6:30p. B goes home and I remain at the fort, still having a full hour before having to return for dinner at 7:30p.
At about 7:00p D returns and we chill till 7:30p and both go back to my place. D waits on the porch while I go inside. It's Friday so my parents had ordered pizza. I pack up a few slices (even though I felt like I'd never eat again, but my stomach kept gurgling hungrily. I was hungry, but I felt no desire or need to eat, it's a weird feeling) and me and D go and call B on his complex intercom. He is just finishing dinner and we all return to the fort. I pick at a slice of my pizza and manage to choke down 2 slices. 2 remain. We're all still tweaking hard, but are starting to feel a little brought down, so we finish off the remnants of the puddle, but I insist on leaving the residue behind so I had something for later. We spend the remainder of the evening until 10:30p chilling and laughing and building on the fort. We all go home.
11 1/2 hours pass, I do not sleep. I spend about 7 hours on my computer, and about 4 1/2 hours lying on my bed, under the covers, eyes closed, screaming inside. I cannot sleep... I lie there in the unearthly silence for 4 1/2 hours...
It's now noon the next day, D calls me, he informs me he didn't sleep. I tell him I didn't either. We estimate that B didn't either. D says he's gonna come over and we hang up. B phones. He informs me he also did not sleep, but instead spend the remainder of the night until about 5:00a writing letters to his mother. Past that he would write a question or part of a conversation on a piece of paper as if he were talking to his girlfriend (who was in Winnipeg for the week visiting family) and then a reply would be written back to him by nothingness, the writing appeared on the paper by itself and in handwriting, which B can't do! I've seen the letters myself and can tell beyond any reasonable doubt that that is NOT his handwriting in the replies, but it IS his printing on his side of the conversation. We spook out at this and store them away somewhere safe.
We return to the fort and all get very buzzed off the residue in the bulb and spend the next several hours working on the fort. We come down and scrape change together and buy a gram of weed. We go back to the fort and smoke it and spend the remainder of the day tripping out in the fort.
 Meth is a wonderful drug when used responsibly and the interaction it has with weed when smoked is breathtaking at medium-high dosages.
Bulb responsibly! Don't forget to 4:20 and don't forget to EAT! Even if you aren't hungy, EAT GODDAMNIT!
Experience Reports are the writings and opinions of the individual authors who submit them.
Some of the activities described are dangerous and/or illegal and none are recommended by Erowid.


Excel at enterprise, mobile and web development
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simply copy-paste the stack trace into the IDE
Get complete stack traces from a Java application
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Seamless integration with Maven, Gradle, SBT, Grunt, Bower and other build tools
Unified support for Git, GitHub, SVN, Mercurial, Perforce and other version control systems
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Free and open-source IDE for JVM and Android development
Full-fledged commercial IDE for web and enterprise development
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Many databases, one tool
Connect to your Google Cloud SQL database using a Google Cloud Proxy
Powerful Continuous Integration out of the box
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Builds and build configurations in Project Overview page
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Leave routine tasks to Upsource!
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{{ block title }} [BEHAVIOURAL AVOIDANCE/INHIBITION] {{ endblock }} {{ block content }}
Please state your level of agreement with the following questions (Behavioral avoidance /inhibition (BIS/BAS) scale)
| Very false for me | Somewhat False for me | Somewhat true for me | Very true for me | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| {{ field.label }} | {{ for option in field }}{{ option }} | {{ endfor }}


This is the Inverse Timetable Project.
What to do: Have a look at your uni timetable. See all the spots between lectures, when you're (theoretically) free to socialise? Write those down. Then, put them into the form below and hit submit, and they'll be stored so other people can tell when you're free.


mesosphere
Businessmodel of Mesosphere
Customer Segments
Mesosphere primarily serves large companies that manage large data networks of servers and data centres, and require regular updates and installation of software. This primarily comprises large, multinational companies operating in the technology space, both in the US worldwide.
The Company in particular serves clients that wish to reduce their spending on data management. Some reports state that Mesosphere was utilised by one of its early customers, marketing software company Hubspot, to reduce its monthly Amazon cloud hosting bills by around 65%.
Among the Company’s other customers seeking similar savings are tech giants Microsoft, Twitter, Cisco, as well as Samsung, Yelp, Verizon and Autodesk.
Value Propositions
Mesosphere’s key value is that it provides a platform where companies can manage their data centre networks efficiently, reliably and securely. The platform combats failures in data centre networks by switching the workload of dead servers to another active server automatically.
The Company offers negotiable prices and services tailored to the individual needs of each customer.
The Mesosphere platform is more cost-effective than alternative providers, with several reports stating that companies have cut their web services bills almost in half by using the Company’s data centre operating system products.
Channels
Mesosphere’s paid-for products are available via direct discussion with members of the Company’s sales team, which can be reached either through the Company’s website at www.mesosphere.com or over the phone.
Once registered, users can access the platform form their desktop.
Mesosphere products are also available through third-party integrated platforms, community applications and base services – including Apache Mesos, Chronos and Marathon – which can be downloaded from the Mesosphere website.
Customer Relationships
In order to access Mesosphere’s paid-for offering users must interact directly with the Company’s sales team in order to be quoted a price tailored to their individual needs. The Company provides extensive support to its customers through tutorials, troubleshooting guides and technical FAQs hosted on its website.
It also hosts a community support forum where users can interact and collaborate on issues and directly raise questions with the Company. Mesosphere also lists all the events which it plans to attend so that customers can interact with Mesosphere representatives in person, and keeps users updated with developments via its Facebook, Twitter and Instagram accounts, as well as its blog.
Key Activities
Mesosphere develops and maintains a data centre operating system that provides a single platform for running containers, big data, and distributed apps in production across data centre or cloud networks.
The Company provides reliable and efficient infrastructure that enables businesses to deploy applications, services, and big data infrastructure on shared resources in a scalable format.
In addition to its flagship Mesosphere DCOS and Mesosphere Infinity products, the Company also provides architectural and consulting services, on-site training, custom installations, and architectural review services.
Key Partners
Mesosphere primarily partners with development and software companies, with which it collaborates to provide an efficient and reliable service to its customers. It aims to develop integration with a number of third-party tech companies to provide greater access to its platform and greater audience reach.
Mesosphere provides developer support and certification services to its partners, with partners able to submit designs and services for verification. VIP partners also receive 24/7 production support from Mesosphere data centre operating system experts.
On its website, Mesosphere lists its featured partners, which includes software companies Cisco, Typesafe, Concord, Datastax and Confluent.
Key Resources
Mesosphere’s key resources are its personnel, its technology and software, and its IT infrastructure. Despite the importance of its proprietary technology, searches of records held by the US patent and Trademark Office identified no patent applications registered in Mesosphere’s name.
The Company’s sales and development teams are key. Its technical support staff are also key, playing an important role in the ongoing efficiency and reliability of the platform.
Mesosphere’s platform is supported by the Company’s own network of data centres and servers which play an equally important role.
Cost Structure
Mesosphere accrues costs in relation to the development and maintenance of its technology, the operation of its IT infrastructure network – including the rental of server space and data centres, and the retention of its personnel, in particular its sales and support staff.
The Company also incurs fixed costs relating to the operation of its three offices in San Francisco, New York and Hamburg.
Revenue Streams
Mesosphere operates under a freemium business model. It provides a free, public, cloud-only community edition of its data centre operating system products, which launched in mid-2015, alongside paid-for enterprise solutions.
The Company generates revenue through the sale of licences to enterprises that authorise these enterprises to use the Mesosphere platform.
The Company does not list prices on its website. Instead prices are tailored to suit individual clients following discussion with members of the Mesosphere sales team. Mesosphere has not disclosed revenue data to the public, however, reports suggest that, with the Company still in its infancy, revenue remains relatively low.


Everything started when Zebulon discovered that he had a
doppelgänger
who was a
serious
baseball
aficionado
.


First I'd like to mention that I have had very few experiences with any drug. I smoked pot for about a year, done shrooms once, and DXM and Dramamine a few times. Now with that said onto the experience.
A friend and I went to a larger city to party on New Year's Eve and noticed a small 'gift' shop. We went in and I noticed Salvia 10x. I had read a lot about it and had wanted to try it for some time...what better time than New Year's Eve? I bought a gram and went off to a party.
At the party I had about 3 bottles of champagne and my friends had the munchies so we took off to a grocery store. One person went in and the other 2 stayed in the car with me and I thought what better time to try the Salvia. I loaded a bowl and smoked it. I felt pretty relaxed and had the distinct feeling that something just wasn't right with the world. I decided another bowl would help so I loaded it and smoked.
This is where everything started and I apologize if I'm vague. Much of this is a blur and there really doesn't seem to be words in the English language to describe what this was like.
The first thing I noticed was that I was seeing snake-like things everywhere and this caused me to laugh uncontrollably. Then one of my friends was 2-D for the most part. The front part of his body was there but from the ears back wasn't. I mumbled something about him not having a brain and went on to try to say 'I feel weird guys.' Well, I couldn't pronounce weird. I tried a few more times without success and looked down at my hand which seemed to be holding something. I was holding the word weird. I held it up for them to read for themselves but they couldn't see it. I attempted to read it to them but once again I failed. Then I got the bright idea to smoke another bowl.
After the bowl I started feeling dizzy and like I was being pushed back into the car's seat head first. As my head penetrated the seat the feeling of being extremely stoned and drunk was appearing.  I remember being in complete blackness for a while and possibly having a mental conversation with something. I came to in a flash not knowing who these people were or where I was. After about ten minutes I was convinced I knew them and they were friends. They had said I was mumbling incoherently for the past twenty minutes and was just staring out the window.
Thats about all I remember but next time I'm going to try it sober in a safe place.  Oh yeah, the next day I felt changed. Everything felt right and better than ever. My outlook on life seemed better and I was in a great mood despite a massive hangover.
Experience Reports are the writings and opinions of the individual authors who submit them.
Some of the activities described are dangerous and/or illegal and none are recommended by Erowid.


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Since 2010, JJ Global Translation have been using carefully-selected translators in the United Kingdom and world-wide to service our international client base providing on-time, accurate and professional translated documents, contracts, certificates and much more.
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Contrary to popular belief, Lorem Ipsum is not simply random text.
Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry. Lorem Ipsum has been the industry's standard dummy text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of and scrambled it to make a type specimen book. It has survived not only five centuries, but also the leap into electronic typesetting, remaining essentially unchanged. Contrary to popular belief, Lorem Ipsum is not simply random text.  Richard McClintock, a Latin professor at Hampden-Sydney College in Virginia, looked up one of the more obscure Latin words, consectetur, from a Lorem Ipsum passage, and going through the cites of the word in classical literature, discovered the undoubtable source. Lorem Ipsum comes from sections 1.10.32 and 1.10.33 of "de Finibus Bonorum et Malorum" (The Extremes of Good and Evil) by Cicero, written in 45 BC. This book is a treatise on the theory of ethics, very popular during the Renaissance. The first line of Lorem Ipsum, "Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet..", comes from a line in section 1.10.32. Contrary to popular belief, Lorem Ipsum is not simply random text.  Richard McClintock, a Latin professor at Hampden-Sydney College in Virginia, looked up one of the more obscure Latin words, consectetur, from a Lorem Ipsum passage, and going through the cites of the word in classical literature, discovered the undoubtable source. Lorem Ipsum comes from sections 1.10.32 and 1.10.33 of "de Finibus Bonorum et Malorum" (The Extremes of Good and Evil) by Cicero, written in 45 BC. This book is a treatise on the theory of ethics, very popular during the Renaissance. The first line of Lorem Ipsum, "Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet..", comes from a line in section 1.10.32.


ID3Tag
public class ID3Tag
A class used to represent an ID3 tag.
-
The properties of the tag. The public available property to the user of the frmaework is the versions property.
Declaration
Swift
public var properties: TagProperties
-
The artist of the tag.
Declaration
Swift
public var artist: String?
-
Additional information about the artist of the song that contains the tag.
Declaration
Swift
public var albumArtist: String?
-
The title of the song related to this tag.
Declaration
Swift
public var title: String?
-
The position of the track in the original media (see
TrackPositionInSet
).Declaration
Swift
public var trackPosition: TrackPositionInSet?
-
The album of the tag.
Declaration
Swift
public var album: String?
-
The recording datetime of the song related to this tag.
Declaration
Swift
public lazy var recordingDateTime: RecordingDateTime? { get set }
-
The attached picture related to the audio file contained in the tag (see
AttachedPicture
).Declaration
Swift
public lazy var attachedPictures: [AttachedPicture]? { get set }
-
init(version:artist:albumArtist:album:title:recordingDateTime:genre:attachedPictures:trackPosition:)
Init a tag.
Declaration
Swift
public init(version: ID3Version, artist: String?, albumArtist: String?, album: String?, title: String?, recordingDateTime: RecordingDateTime?, genre: Genre?, attachedPictures: [AttachedPicture]?, trackPosition: TrackPositionInSet?)
Parameters
version
the version of the tag.
artist
the artist of the tag.
album
the album of the tag.
title
the title of tag.
recordingDateTime
the recording time of the tag.
genre
the genre of the tag.
attachedPictures
an array of attached picture of the tag.
trackPosition
track position of the tag.


Ping, Pong!
Enter a number and I'll count up from 1 to yours with a few exceptions:
Numbers divisible by 3 will return "ping"
Numbers divisible by 5 will return "pong"
Numbers divisible by 15 will return "pingpong"
Enter your number here:
Give it a go!


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course
instructor
name
grade
Misy350
Harry Wang
Web Development
A
Misy225
Edward Hartono
Intro to prog.
A


Adhoc is an on-demand administrative service for your company growth
-Dave Ellavar, Academy of Code
Over 9000 happy clients, and we learn something new from each one.
Administration? Fun? Yea, somehow we make it happen.
Innovative solutions to the trickest of everyday tasks.


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UK police make new arrest over people-smuggling truck deaths
by The Associated PressLONDON (AP) — British police arrested a 23-year-old man from Northern Ireland on Friday over the deaths of 39 people from Vietnam whose bodies were found in a refrigerated container truck last month.
The Essex Police force said the man was detained on a highway northwest of London on suspicion of conspiracy to traffic people and conspiracy to assist unlawful immigration.
The bodies were found Oct. 23 in the English town of Grays. Police say the victims were all from Vietnam and aged 15 to 44.
The 31 men and eight women are believed to have paid people traffickers for their clandestine transit into England.
British police have already charged 25-year-old Maurice Robinson, a truck driver also from Northern Ireland, with 39 counts of manslaughter and conspiracy to traffic people. They say he drove the cab of the truck to Purfleet, England, where it picked up the container, which had arrived by ferry from Zeebrugge in Belgium.
In Ireland, 22-year-old Eamonn Harrison faces U.K. extradition proceedings on charges of manslaughter. Several other people have been arrested in Vietnam.
The Associated Press


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WWE releases backstage footage of Kevin Owens, moments before WarGames entrance [Watch]
by Abhilash MendheTonight on WWE NXT TakeOver: War Games, Kevin Owens came out as the fourth member of Tommaso Ciampa's team in the War Games match against The Undisputed Era. Ciampa, Owens, Keith Lee, and Dominik Dijakovic stood tall when all was said and done. WWE has now released exclusive backstage footage of Kevin Owens on its official Instagram page, which shows Owens getting fired up moments before he makes his entrance.
On the latest edition of Monday Night RAW, WWE EVP Triple H attempted to convince Kevin Owens to join NXT, and the segment ended with a huge brawl that saw The Undisputed Era ganging up on Owens. The brawl came to an end when The O.C. came out and fended off the attackers. Ever since then, speculation was running rampant among fans in regards to Owens possibly coming back to NXT.
Also read: Vince McMahon reportedly compares NXT Superstar to Shawn Michaels
Tonight, Owens came out as the fourth and final member of Ciampa's team to a loud ovation. The babyfaces managed to defeat The Undisputed Era when Ciampa pinned Adam Cole after putting him through a table.
Shortly after, WWE posted a clip that shows Owens preparing to make his entrance for the match. Check it out below:
We want to know what you think of the matches that you see on TV! Go to our WWE page here and rate and comment what you thought of them!


This game was created by Sergio Morales, the winner of 17KB JS Game Challenge. The challenge was an internal coding challenge only for Growth Acceleration Partners employees
The participants created a game using JS and HTML5 with total file limited to 17kb. This game is a variation of the 13kb challenge. Why? Because 17Kb is the next prime number after 13 of course
Enjoy!


Here's what you can expect on October 9th-11th.
Venue Maps
Sponsor and mentor schedule
Install the HackNC App (coming soon) to get notified when things are happening and to get the schedule on your phone. Press "up up down down left right left right b a b a" and we'll deliver a free pizza to you.


{% extends "layout.html" %} {% block head %}
I once watched The Social Network and learned no moral lessons.


JavaScript Language
Explain the following terms to a non-tech friend:
parentheses ():
These are used to contain expressions and parameters. They are particularly used to contain one or more parameteres when declaring a function. They are also used in other instances where a series of actions need to be contained. A good example is the 'for' loop.
brackets []:
These are used when declaring the contents of an array, and when calling arrays.
braces {}:
These are used to contain the contents of a function, and are also used to wrap around objects.
single quotes '' and double quotes "":
These are interchangeable and are used to surround string characters. Once you have used one or the other it is important to then continue using the same.


Throughout Ameol, you can click with the right mouse button to display a context sensitive menu of commands.
For instance, right-clicking in the In Basket will give you the menu displayed above.
Obviously there are far too many permutations to list here, but all of the major commands that apply in the current context will be shown in the menu.


Postdoctoral Researcher, Bader Lab
The Donnelly Centre
University of Toronto
160 College Street, Room 630
The Donnelly Centre
University of Toronto
Toronto, Ontario
Canada, M5S 3E1
Map
Email: mohamed.attiashahata[AT]utoronto.ca
* Corresponding author, ** Equal first author
A. Journals
17- Helmy, M., Wagih O., Jain S., Kuang K. Bader G.D. Cancer high-resolution domain-based interaction networks with integrated mutation impacts.
Under preparation
16- Helmy, M., Mee M., Bader G.D. openPIP: The Open Source Protein Interactions Platform.
Under preparation
15- Shah, M., Helmy, M., Bader G.D. Utilizing biological data in conjunction with supervised machine learning to identify potential regulatory regions and their sizes throughout the human genome.
Under preparation
14- Helmy, M., Crits-Christoph A., Wagih O., Bader G.D DV-Impact: An Online Resource and Data Standard for Reporting Disease Variants Impact on Domain-based Protein Interactions.
Under preparation
13- Awad, M., Fahmy R.M., Mosa K. A., Helmy, M., El-Feky F. A. Identification of Effective DNA Barcodes for Triticum Plants through Chloroplast Genome-wide Analysis.
In revision
12- Tong J., Helmy, M.**., et al,. Systems level analysis of the protein-phosphotyrosine landscape in acute myeloid leukemia as a product of activated tyrosine kinases and phosphotyrosine phosphatases.
In revision
11- Helmy, M., Crits-Christoph A., Bader G.D. (2016) Ten Simple Rules for Developing Biological Database.PLOS Computational Biology, 12(11): e1005128.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
10- Helmy, M., Awad M., Mosa K. A. (2016) Limited resources of genome sequencing in developing countries: Challenges and solutions. Applied & Translational Genomics, 9,15:19.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
9- Mosa K. A., , Saadoun I., Kumar K., Helmy, M., Dhankher O. P. (2016) Potential Biotechnological Strategies for the Cleanup of Heavy Metals and Metalloids. Frontiers in Plant Science 7, 303.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
8- Awad M., Ouda O., El-Rifi A., El-Fiki F., Mosa K. A., Helmy, M.*., (2015) FN-Identify: Novel Restriction Enzymes-Based Method for Bacterial Identification in Absence of Genome Sequencing. Advances in Bioinformatics Article ID 303605, doi.org/10.1155/2015/303605.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
7- El-Metwally, S, Hamza, T, Zakarya, M and Helmy, M.*. (2013)Next-Generation Sequence Assembly: Four Stages of Data Processing and Computational Challenges, PLOS Computational Biology, 9 (12), e1003345.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
6- Helmy, M., Tomita M, Ishihama Y. (2012) Peptide identification by searching large-scale tandem mass spectra against large databases: bioinformatics methods in proteogenomics. Genes, Genomes and Genomics, 6(SI1), 76-85.
ResearchGate - PDF
5- Helmy, M., Sugiyama N, Tomita M, Ishihama Y. (2012) The rice proteogenomics database OryzaPGDB: development, expansion and new features. Frontiers of Plant Sciences, 3:65, doi:10.3389/fpls.2012.00065.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
4- Helmy, M., Tomita, M., Ishihama Y. (2011) OryzaPG-DB: Rice Proteome Database based on Shotgun Proteogenomics, BMC Plant Biology, 11,63, 2011. doi:10.1186/1471-2229-11-63.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
3- Helmy, M., Sugiyama N, Tomita M, Ishihama Y. (2012) Mass Spectrum Sequential Subtraction: bioinformatics method facilitates searching large dataset of peptide MS/MS spectra against large nucleotide databases for proteogenomics. Genes to Cells, 17(8), 633-644, doi:10.1111/j.1365-2443.2012.01615.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
2- Helmy, M.., Gohda, J., Inoue, J., Tomita, M., Tsuchiya, M. and Selvarajoo, K. (2009) Predicting novel features of Toll-like Receptor 3 signalling in macrophages, PLoS ONE, 4(3): e4661. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0004661.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
1- Selvarajoo, K., Takabe, Y., Gohda, J., Helmy, M., Akira, S., Tomita, M., Tsuchiya, M., Inoue, J. and Matsuo, K. (2008) Signalling Flux Redistribution at Toll-like Receptor Pathway Junctions., PLoS ONE , 3(10) , e3430, doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0003430.
PubMed Abstract - DOI - PDF
B. Books
2- Mosa K. A., El-Shabrawi H., Ismail A., and Helmy, M. (In Press) Plant Stress Tolerance: An Integrated Omics Approaches, Springer Briefs in Systems Biology, Springer, PA, USA.
1- El-Metwally S., Ouda O, and Helmy, M.* (2014) Next Generation Sequencing Challenges in Technologies and Sequence Assembly, Springer Briefs in Systems Biology, (7) ISBN: 978-1-4939-0714-4 (Print) 978-1-4939-0715-1 (Online), Springer, PA, USA.
Springer, Amazon, Request free copy
C. Proceedings
2- Helmy, M., Tomita M., Tsuchiya M., Selvarajoo K. (2008) In silico analysis of Toll-Like receptor 3 pathways. Proceedings of Bioinformatica Indica'08. India 2008.
ResearchGate
1- Selvarajoo K., Helmy, M., Tomita M., Tsuchiya M. (2008) Inferring the mechanistic basis for the dynamic response of the MyD88-dependent and –independent pathways. 10 on Molecular Systems Biology 2008 (ICMSB'08).Philippine 2008.
ResearchGate
D. Thesis
2- PhD thesis: Helmy, M. (2012) Systems biology approaches to improve genome annotations through development of bioinformatics pipeline for large-scale mass spectrometry-based proteogenomics. Supervisors: Professor Masaru Tomita, Peofessor Yasushi Isgihama, Professor Akio Kanai, Keio University, Tokyo, Japan.
full Text PDF
1- Master's thesis: Helmy, M. (2009) Systems biology research on: 1) Computational analysis of Toll-like receptor 3 signaling pathway, and 2) Exploiting proteogenomics for improving Oryzae sativa genome annotation. Supervisors: Professor Masaru Tomita, Peofessor Yasushi Isgihama, Professor Kumar Selvarajoo, Keio University, Tokyo, Japan.
Full Text PDF


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Option three can—yes, you guessed it—also be checked and included in form results. Let's make it super long so that everyone can see how it wraps, too.
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26 November 2019
- What is your long term goal and or career pathway?
- What skills (non-technical - human skills) would you like to see developed in yourself while at EDA?
- A description of your own strengths and limitations
- Based on the above description, a commitment to how you will manage your workload in this programme. This should include - an explanation of how you will manage yourself to work productively and safely with other learners, facilitators and industry/community representatives.
- A commitment as to how and where you will seek help in a timely way.
- A description of what you expect from the facilitation team
My long term goal is to build technical skills and experience so I can get a junior development position.
Probably confidence in putting my self out there more, eg. confidently meeting new people.
I think my strengths include hardworking, getting along easily with people and being creative. My big limitation is burning my self out with constant work and stress.
I think just using a time based system and sticking with it helps a lot, I tend to get side tracked and focus on smaller less important things.
Slack seems like a good tool to seek help I can just ask my facilitator for assistance.
Just that they can be responsive to questions.
Updated Learning plan
- What is your long term goal and or career pathway?
- What do you think your biggest strengths and limitations will be in Bootcamp?
- What do you think your biggest non-technical challenge at Bootcamp will be?
- What non-technical skills - human skills - would you like to see developed in yourself while at EDA?
- What are your expectations from the Bootcamp team?
- What are your expectations of yourself on Bootcamp
I still really want to go into some kind of technical development job, no particular position but maybe something like app or web development.
My strenth will probably be my computer science background and my weakness will probably be putting my selfout there when it comes to the other people.
I'm quite a reserved person and don't like to share personal things especially within a big group, I always feel like I need to get more involved and put myself out there.
Definitly like sharing with groups, I'm fine when its 1 or 2 people but a large group I tend to shy away from.
Just understand that it takes me a while to get into some things
To work hard and really make the most of it


Make a court claim for money
1. How to make a claim
You can apply to a county court to claim money you’re owed by a person or business.
This is known as making a court claim. It often used to be known as taking someone to a ‘small claims court’.
A mediation service could be quicker and cheaper than going to court. Mediation is when an impartial person helps both sides work out an agreement.
The process is different in Scotland and Northern Ireland.
Make a claim
Make your claim online if you’re claiming for a fixed (‘specified’) amount of money.
Download and complete the paper claim form if you’re claiming for an unspecified amount of money.
You can also use the paper claim form to claim for a fixed amount.
Send the paper form to the County Court Money Claims Centre.
County Court Money Claims Centre
PO Box 527
Salford
M5 0BY
You must pay a court fee when you make a claim.
What happens next
You might have to go to a court hearing if the other person or business (the ‘defendant’) denies owing the money and you disagree with their response.
You can get the court to order them to pay if they:
- don’t respond to your claim
- admit they owe you but don’t pay
If they still don’t pay, you can ask the court to take further steps to collect the money - for example, by using bailiffs.
Get help making a claim
Contact the Money Claim Online helpdesk if you’re making the claim online.
Money Claim Online helpdesk
<EMAIL_ADDRESS>Telephone: 0300 123 1057
Telephone: 01604 619 402
Monday to Friday, 8:30am to 5pm
Find out about call charges (opens in a new window)
Contact the County Court Money Claims Centre if you’re using the paper claim form.
County Court Money Claims Centre
Telephone: 0300 123 1372
Monday to Friday, 8:30am to 5pm
Find out about call charges (opens in a new window)
2. Court fees
You must pay a court fee when you make your claim.
The fee for making a money claim online is cheaper than the fee for sending a paper claim form.
If you know the claim amount
The court fee is based on the amount you’re claiming, plus interest.
| Claim amount | Paper form fee | Online claim fee |
|---|---|---|
| Up to £300 | £35 | £25 |
| £300.01 to £500 | £50 | £35 |
| £500.01 to £1,000 | £70 | £60 |
| £1,000.01 to £1,500 | £80 | £70 |
| £1,500.01 to £3,000 | £115 | £105 |
| £3,000.01 to £5,000 | £205 | £185 |
| £5,000.01 to £10,000 | £455 | £410 |
| £10,000.01 to £100,000 | 5% of the claim | 4.5% of the claim |
| £100,000.01 to £200,000 | 5% of the claim | You can’t make a claim online |
| More than £200,000 | £10,000 | You can’t make a claim online |
To calculate 5% of the value of the claim, take the amount you’re claiming and multiply it by 0.05. If necessary, round down the result to the nearest 1p.
The fee will be calculated for you if you make your claim online.
If you don’t know the claim amount
Use the paper claim form if you don’t know the exact amount - you can’t make a claim online.
Which fee you need to pay
You’ll need to estimate the amount you’re claiming and pay the paper form fee for that amount.
For example, if you estimate you’re claiming between £3,000.01 and £5,000, you’d have to pay £205.
If you leave the ‘amount claimed’ blank, the fee is £10,000.
Pay the court fee
Pay by credit or debit card if you’re making a claim online.
If you use the paper claim form, pay with a postal order or cheque (payable to ‘HM Courts and Tribunals Service’).
You may have to pay more fees later on - for example, if there’s a court hearing or you need to get a judgment enforced.
You may be able to claim the fees back if you win the case.
Find out more about court fees.
3. Claim the interest
You can claim interest on the money you say you’re owed.
The interest will be calculated for you if you claim for an unspecified amount.
You need to work out the interest yourself if you’re claiming for a fixed (‘specified’) amount of money.
Work out the interest
If you’re owed money by another business, you can charge interest on a late commercial payment.
For other types of debt, the rate is usually 8%.
To calculate this, use the steps below.
-
Work out the yearly interest: take the amount you’re claiming and multiply it by 0.08 (which is 8%).
-
Work out the daily interest: divide your yearly interest from step 1 by 365 (the number of days in a year).
-
Work out the total amount of interest: multiply the daily interest from step 2 by the number of days the debt has been overdue.
Example
If you were owed £1,000:
- the annual interest would be £80 (1000 x 0.08 = 80)
- you’d divide £80 by 365 to get the daily interest: about 22p a day (80 / 365 = 0.22)
- after 50 days this would be £11 (50 x 0.22 = 11)
4. After you make your claim
The person or business who owes you money (the ‘defendant’) must respond to your claim within 14 days of receiving it.
What to do if you get paid
Tell the defendant when you’ve received their payment.
You must also tell the court what date you were paid or made an offer you’re happy with. Do this by:
- updating your claim on Money Claim Online
- contacting the court if you used a paper claim form
If you don’t get a response
You can ask the court to order the defendant to pay if they don’t respond to your claim.
You need to use:
- Money Claim Online to ‘request a judgment’ if you started your claim online
- request for judgment form N225 if you claimed a fixed (‘specified’) amount using a claim form
- request for judgment form N227 if you claimed an unspecified amount using a claim form
If you disagree with the response
You might have to go to a court hearing if:
- the defendant says they don’t owe you any money
- they disagree with the amount you’ve claimed
- you don’t agree with how they’ve offered to repay you
The court may send you a questionnaire asking for more information on the case.
If your claim is under £10,000, you’ll be asked if you’d like to use the court’s small claims mediation service to reach an agreement with the defendant.
Fill in the questionnaire and return it to the court. You’ll have to pay an extra court fee.
The judge might not award you costs if they think you’ve made no effort to agree out of court.
5. What happens at the hearing
If there’s a hearing, you can:
- represent yourself
- pay for a barrister or solicitor to represent you
- ask someone to advise you in court - they don’t have to be a lawyer
- ask someone to speak on your behalf - you might need to get the court’s permission
Your hearing can be held in the judge’s room or a courtroom in a county court if your claim is for less than £10,000. There might be a more formal hearing if you’re claiming for more.
After the hearing
You’ll get a decision on the day of the hearing. The court will also send you a copy of the decision by post.
If you win your case, the court will order the person or business who owes you money (the ‘debtor’) to pay you. There are ways the court can collect your payment if they ignore the court order.
Appeal the decision
You can appeal the decision if you think the judge made a mistake during the hearing. You must do this within 21 days of getting the decision.
Find out which court or tribunal to appeal to.
Contact Citizen’s Advice to get advice on appealing.
6. Enforce a judgment
You can ask the court to collect payment from the person or business who owes you money (the ‘debtor’) if they don’t pay you after receiving the court order.
You must pay a court fee when you ask the court to collect the payment.
Find out what the debtor can afford to pay
Ask the court to order the debtor to attend court to provide evidence of their income or spending, for example bills and statements.
If the money is owed by a business, you can ask for an officer from the company to attend court and give details of its accounts.
You can then decide if you want the court to take further action to collect your payment.
Send bailiffs to collect payment
You can ask the court to send bailiffs to collect the money.
Use Money Claim Online if you used it to make your original claim.
If you made your original claim with a paper form, you should download and fill in either:
- form N323 - to apply at a county court (you must be owed £5,000 or less)
- form N293A - to apply at the High Court (you must be owed at least £600)
You can apply to either a county court or the High Court if you’re owed between £600 and £5,000.
You may need legal advice if you apply at the High Court.
The bailiff will ask for payment within 7 days. If the debt isn’t paid, the bailiff will visit the debtor’s home or business to see if anything can be sold to pay the debt.
Get money deducted from wages
You can ask the court to take money from the debtor’s wages to pay the debt. They do this by sending an order to the debtor’s employer.
Download and fill in a request for an attachment of earnings order form N337.
Freeze assets or money in an account
The court can freeze money in the debtor’s bank, building society or business account.
Download and fill in a request for a third party debt order form N349.
The court will decide if money from the account can be used to pay the debt.
Charge the debtor’s land or property
You can ask the court to charge the debtor’s land or property.
Download and fill in a request for a charging order form N379.
If the land or property is sold, the debtor must pay this charge before they get their money.


Dear Friend,
There has never been a better time to start your own podcast.
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There are many ways that you can monetize your podcasts and earn a significant income from them every month.
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This page demonstrates the timeline visualization.
- Click and drag on the time axis to move the timeline, scroll to zoom the timeline
- Click and drag an item to change its date, double-click to change its text
- Click or drag on an empty spot in the timeline to create a new item
Starttime:
Endtime:
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and TpdkDesign.net


Realist Manifesto
The Manifesto focused largely on divorcing art from such conventions as use of lines, color, volume, and mass.


Textadept
A fast, minimalist, and remarkably extensible cross-platform text editor
Features
Textadept is a fast, minimalist, and remarkably extensible cross-platform text editor.
Fast and Minimalist
Textadept’s user interface is sleek and simple. Relentlessly optimized for speed and minimalism over the years, the editor consists of less than 2000 lines of C and C++ code, and less than 4000 lines of Lua code.
Cross Platform
Textadept runs on Windows, macOS and Linux. It also has a terminal version, which is ideal for work on remote machines.
Remarkably Extensible
Textadept is an ideal editor for programmers who want endless extensibility without sacrificing speed or succumbing to code bloat and featuritis.  Everything from moving the caret to changing menus and key bindings on-the-fly to handling core events is possible. Its potential is vast.
Multiple Language Support
Being a programmer’s editor, Textadept excels at editing source code. It understands the syntax and structure of more than 100 different programming languages and recognizes hundreds of file types. Textadept uses this knowledge to make viewing and editing code faster and easier. It can also compile and run simple source files.
Unlimited Split Views
Both the graphical version and the terminal version of Textadept support unlimited vertical and horizontal view splitting, even of the same file.
Customizable Themes
Textadept uses themes to customize its look and feel. It comes with built-in light, dark, and terminal themes.
Code Autocompletion
Not only can Textadept autocomplete words in files, but it can also autocomplete symbols for programming languages and display API documentation.
Keyboard Driven
Textadept can be entirely keyboard driven. The editor defines key bindings for many common actions. You can easily reassign existing bindings or create new ones. Keys may be chained together or grouped into language-specific keys or key modes.
Self Contained
Textadept’s binary packages are self-contained and need not be installed. No administrator privileges are required either.
Learn More
Comprehensive Manual
Textadept comes with a comprehensive user manual in the application’s docs/ directory. It covers all of Textadept’s main features, including installation, usage, configuration, theming, scripting, and compilation.
Exhaustive API Documentation
Since Textadept is entirely scriptable with Lua, its API is heavily documented. This documentation is also located in docs/ and is the ultimate resource on scripting Textadept. (The editor’s Lua internals also provide abundant scripting examples.)
Try It Yourself
Learn even more about Textadept by downloading and trying it out yourself. If you’re not completely satisfied, contact us or e-mail me personally (orbitalquark att triplequasar.com). You may also fork the project, submit patches, or sponsor a feature. Textadept is 100% open source.
Still Not Convinced?
- Textadept has a proven track record, with at least one release every 2 months for 12+ years and no signs of inactivity. Also, as an open-source project, the editor remain freely available.
- Textadept is a real cross-platform desktop application, backed by a world-class editing engine that dozens of editors and IDEs have depended on for over 20 years.
- Textadept is scriptable in a language that was carefully designed to run on any platform at high speed and with a minimal memory footprint. Lua is used everywhere from video games to embedded devices. It is easy to learn too!
- Textadept is resource efficient, consuming tens of MB of RAM at startup and hardly any CPU while under load. Even with over 30 of its own source files open at once, Textadept does not add more than 30MB of RAM to its overall usage and has no input lag at all.
- Textadept does not rely on external packages to provide its functionality and does not depend on a package ecosystem to thrive. The editor gives you plenty of the tools you need out of the box.
- Textadept has sensible defaults and does not expect you to spend hours customizing it before you can start being productive.
- With about 30 main source files comprising roughly 6000 lines of heavily documented code, Textadept’s internals are remarkably easy to read, understand, keep track of, and extend to your liking.
- Did you see that there is a terminal version in case you need to do work on a remote server?
- Textadept does not track you. It does not attempt to connect to the internet. It is just a text editor.
*Warning: nightly builds may be untested, may have bugs, and are the absolute cutting-edge versions of Textadept. Please exercise caution if using them in a production environment.


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