2016-02-18
I had never once considered what it meant to be ‘evil’ until very recently. It wasn’t something I ever considered to be debatable; good was good, evil was evil. Watching enough Tarantino films brought the possibility that everybody was evil in some way, but they never caused me to ask “what makes them evil?”
Let’s assume that good or evil is defined by your actions, ignore good/evil aspects of thought for the time being. The line that must be drawn first is one between those who cause pain but do not realise it and those who realise they are causing damage but continue anyway. Ignorant causers of pain can not be labelled as evil, as far as I believe; it is the intent of causing damage which defines somebody as being evil.
Consider a fireplace in a campsite. The fire can burn those around it, but it seems illogical to point at the fire and shout “evil!” It is just a natural thing. Now consider a person or other animal picked up a stick set alight by the fire, dropping the stick in range of one of the tents. Could this be a concrete example of evil? Not really, the carrier of the stick may have no intent of burning the campsite. The intent of the carrier is what separates the evil action from the act of ignorance.
There are many examples in history however where causing pain with intent has been viewed as “good” by many people. Wars, genocide, prisoner torture: all seen as “necessary” actions at some point or another, acts supposedly working towards a common good. While all were causers of unimaginable pain and suffering, both physically and mentally, it can be disturbingly easy to put yourself in the position of the torturer and see yourself as just. What brings that sense of Justice? The torturer can point to a reason why they are causing the pain, a reason that will contribute more to the common good and redeems the pain caused.
Regardless of the validity the torturer’s reason has, can they really be pinned down as being truly evil? That is questionable, but if the answer were no then the only evil actions in the world would be those committed by a Sadist. Those that cause pain without any reason but with intent. It’s difficult to find examples of these people since descriptions of their acts can always be spun to have some kind of reason. A school yard bully comes to mind, not stealing money or trying to gain social prestige, but just enjoying the act of humiliating others. An act of rape could be another example, of a man not trying to satisfy his personal urges, but enjoys more the shame he is inflicting on his victim. This I find is the true essence of evil.
The top definition for evil on Google is ‘profoundly immoral and wicked’ 1. This suggests that evil is a very flexible term, that there is no true concrete example of evil, since morality is itself flexible from person to person. A democratic approach could be taken to define something as evil. If the majority of people believe that a person’s actions are completely immoral then they are by definition evil. This seems to be a popular opinion of what evil is since it doesn’t excuse the actions of the immoral even if they intend to be moral, however it is completely objective and the validity of the opinion is based on how many people are on the accuser’s side.
It can be thought that these days, in order to be evil, you need to be up against a crowd of people sharpening their pitchforks. If no crowd ever appears then you can’t possibly be evil.  An example of this was pointed out in a very excellent talk by Maciej Cegłowski, which is transcribed online. In the latter part of his talk he looks to silicon valley, where money is thrown from venture to venture in an endless competition for prestige. All the meanwhile the homeless population of San Francisco is rising every year 2. While millions and potentially billions of dollars are thrown on grand projects in the area such as space programs, human immortality and smartphone apps; people are struggling to gather ten dollars while living on the streets. In this modern world these projects may never be defined as evil. Who doesn’t like space programs? As long as people do enjoy these grand projects, the mob of pitchforks won’t appear and the venture capitalists will continue to operate, believing that their actions benefit mankind.
Even then, going back to my earlier definition of evil, they aren’t sadists. They don’t want to cause pain and if pinned to the ground they would never say that they don’t care about homelessness. Are they just simply ignorant of how much benefit they could give?
So are evil people sadistic, immoral or just ignorant? Or could they perhaps be a combination of the three? Saying that people are only evil if they are sadistic is too strict I find. This excuses about 80% of modern cases of evil and still leaves that remaining 20% on questionable terms. Immorality is the other extreme, it is too loosely defined and could be pinned on anybody in a variety of situations. Ignorance with power and a weakness for personal gains gives rise to what we currently see in silicon valley; but even as it pains people can it really be evil?
It just gives rise to a big personal conflict, and makes me wonder if evil exists at all? Could it not just be something planted in me as a child? Perhaps all people that are seen as evil were just misguided in intricate ways. Perhaps it isn’t something worth thinking about too much.
I find the use of the word “wicked” in this definition quite funny, since the top Google definition for wicked is “evil or morally wrong”. I thought recursive definitions were only something that existed in code. The second definition of evil I find is surprisingly “extremely unpleasant”, like an unpleasant sight or smell. I have never heard the word used in this way, “the smell of that fish is quite evil” just sound bazaar.↩
The San Francisco government has done a count on this, indeed the number of surveyed people homeless has risen in 2015.↩


Stimulation, Relaxation ... and Iching!
| DOSE: T+ 0:00 |
|
smoked |
Pedicularis spp. |
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| T+ 0:55 |
7.5 g |
oral |
Pedicularis spp. |
(tea) |
| T+ 0:00 |
|
smoked |
Cannabis |
(daily) |
I found this plant for sale on the website of my usual herbal reseller. They were very little explanations. I searched the internet and found many photographs and botanical descriptions, but very little mention of the alleged medicinal virtues of the plant.
settings:
I'm not very happy these days. I feel a bit lonely, not very involved in my activities. I feel sometimes depressed, but not all day long. I had 3 cups of China black tea in the morning (I'm a former strong coffee drinker, I quit 3 weeks ago for stomach problems - tea is less aggressive but doesnt give me my 'morning boost', it just helps to avoid withdrawal) and started the day with a marijuana cigarette containing a pinch of kanna (Sceletium tortuosum). I'm not taking otc or prescription pharms. I'm smoking pot daily. I'm using kratom and blue lotus once a week. I occasionally consume other 'herbal highs'. I drink alcohol less than once a week, rarely more than 1or 2 glasses of wine or beer.
The plant material consists mostly of big hollow stems and of green hard fragments which could come off leaves or of not bloomed flowers. It smells 'vegetal' in a way which reminds me of many plants - but I cannot say which.
T - 5 : 30 : I drink 3 cups of good quality black smoked tea (from China - my favorite one). I feel depressed of the (partial) lack of coffeine, and also for living in a place I hate.
T - 5 : I smoke a cigarette of marijuana with a little kanna in it. I get computer hardware problems. I solve them and feel rather happy at that.
T + 0 : I smoke a little amount (1 or 2 g ?) of the green material in a cigarette. The fragments are thick and hard. The little cigarette weights more than a twice bigger marijuana stick. The taste is light, not bad tasting. The smoke isnt harsh. I'm experienced in smoking herbs, so other people could find it bad tasting and harsh. The taste has something from wild dagga flowers and also from Salvia divinorum leaves, but very very light.
10 minutes later, I feel a light relaxation.
T + 0 :30 : I put 2 teaspoons of the green plant material plus a handful of stems in a pot of water. The whole weighs about 7 or 8grams. (the stems are very light, while the green material is heavy). I allow it to boil for 15 minutes. The tea becomes quickly yellow/light green. I let it cool down for ten minutes and then drink the 2 cups of liquid. The smell reminds me of the Salvia divinorum leaves, but the taste is much lighter than I expected. It's rather nice to drink, even if I guess that many people wouldn't like it. It is not bitter and i drink it without adding sugar. The effects progressively come in 20 minutes later.
T + 1 :30 The effects are growing stronger. I feel a bit excited, in a way which reminds me of catuaba but with some sedation which is more like Lagochilus inebrians. I'm feeling slightly confused, but my mind works normally. I'm a little irritable, but patient at the same time. It is weird. I don't feel euphoric nor happy. I feel like having taken a stimulant for a long lasting physical outdoor work, although the stimulation is not really strong.
Being physically active while mentally relaxed could sound a bit like low-dosed Ephedra, but it has not much in common. I feel a bit cloudy minded and I'm making mistakes while typing. I'm feeling a little inebriated. My body is itching just like in an opiate come down.
T + 2:30 : The effects seem to very slowly fade away.
This plant has some effects of its own but doesn't bring something really new. It certainly has a medicinal potential, but (at the dose I used) has nothing interesting as a fun or enlightening drug. Maybe there is a special way to use it. I didn't find any info about the dosage and preparation methods...
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.


Speech
Speech to launch 'Going the extra mile: excellence in competitive school sport'
Good morning and thank you for inviting me once again to talk at the Wellington Festival. This is my third visit to Wellington. It’s always a great educational occasion. And, as ever, I’m grateful to Sir Anthony and his team for hosting the event and providing a forum for education debate, and allowing me the opportunity to talk about a subject that has preoccupied me for a long time: comprehensive education.
I appreciate that some may find it ironic that I want to talk about a socially inclusive education model in so privileged a setting as Wellington. But no one who cares about our country’s future can afford not to have a view on a school model that still educates the overwhelming majority of our children and that is likely to do so for the foreseeable future.
I come here this morning not to bury the comprehensive ideal but to reclaim and celebrate it. This is not to deny that comprehensives have their problems. Of course they do.
In fact, many critics believe that their problems are so intractable that the only solution is to bring back grammars. I am not one of them.
I appreciate that many grammar schools do a fine job and equip their students with an excellent education. But their record of including students from non-middle-class backgrounds is poor. And let’s not delude ourselves. ‘A grammar school in every town’, as some are calling for, would also mean three secondary moderns in every town, too – a consequence rarely mentioned.
What does the country need more of? Schools that educate only the top 20% of students, 90% of whom get good GCSEs, or schools that educate 100% of students, 80% of whom are capable of getting good GCSEs? I think the answer is pretty obvious.
If we have learned anything from those educational superstars in Asia and elsewhere it is that a country will only progress if it provides an excellent education for all of its citizens, not just some of them.
I am a passionate believer in local schools for all abilities. Indeed, until the current job, I had spent my entire professional life in inner-city comprehensives. So it saddens me to see that, despite the success of many comprehensives, their reputation remains tarnished.
Last year I gave a series of interviews to launch our Most able report, which considered how well state-schools were addressing the needs of their most talented students. When I told one well-known interviewer that Ofsted wanted to see comprehensives doing more for the most able, he jovially scoffed: ‘Good luck with that one!’ His implication was that comprehensives were incapable of stretching children academically and what is more that everyone knew it. I think his reaction encapsulates the scale of the challenge we face in reclaiming the image.
Despite the enormous strides the majority of our comprehensives have made in the past few years, the name is still associated in the minds of many with mediocrity, laxity and failure. For many, journalists and politicians in particular, comprehensives remain – to use an infamous label – bog-standard.
In fact, the vast majority of today’s comprehensives, whether local authority schools or academies, are far better than many of their critics allow. And they are a lot better than the comprehensives I first worked in 30 years ago.
The old comprehensive ‘schools from hell’, the names that journalists regularly invoked to terrify their readers, are rare. The descendants of these schools are often successful academies, which no longer pander to their students but educate them. Comprehensive schools should be proudly academic schools. To be anything else is a betrayal of their principles. They exist to promote the idea that all children, regardless of background, deserve – and can benefit from – an intellectually stimulating education.
Given the challenging intakes they often have, I realise that isn’t always easy. But then learning rarely is. ‘A man’s reach should exceed his grasp.’ Or do you think Robert Browning’s words should apply only to the children of the well-off? But it would be foolish to pretend all is perfect. As our last annual report showed, almost a fifth of all schools require improvement and many others engage in a constant battle to avoid slipping backwards.
Much of this underperformance, in my opinion, has historical roots. Even though the ideology that afflicted so many of the early comprehensives has been largely discredited, its damaging effects remain. They can be seen in the toleration of poor behaviour, the disdain for competitive sports, the half-hearted pursuit of high academic standards and the meagre respect sometimes given to leadership and authority.
If we are to reclaim the comprehensive ideal, if more schools are to become good, we have to tackle these baleful legacies.
Comprehensives were launched with what was, and remains, a laudable guiding principle: they were to provide educational opportunities for children of all abilities in a single school rather than dividing them into winners and losers at the tender age of 11. A comprehensive was to be, in Harold Wilson’s phrase, ‘a grammar school for all’.
Sadly, for most children, that ambition was never fulfilled. Newspapers were soon full of stories about plummeting educational standards, abysmal student behaviour and evaporating teacher authority.
Hackney Downs Grammar, the predecessor to my former school, Mossbourne Academy, exemplified the problem. Hackney Downs had declined to the point where it was named the worst school in Britain.
It had failed to retain any legacy of its former life as a grammar. There was no respect for authority. Academic achievement was more often disdained than encouraged. Many teachers thought little of their students, who returned the compliment. This pattern was repeated up and down the country in hundreds of schools. It was by no means confined to tough inner-city schools like Hackney Downs. In too many instances, the local comp had become the school that many parents sought to avoid. The opportunity promised by educational reformers had become an ordeal.
How had it come to this? Why had a school model based on sound principles and enjoying cross-party support failed so many? Why hadn’t comprehensives become ‘grammar schools for all’?
Historians point to poor organization and the sloppy way in which schools were reformed. But in my opinion the biggest single cause of failure was a loss of authority at all levels.
Teachers no longer respected the head, students no longer respected the teachers, parents no longer respected the school and few respected academic tradition. The authority conferred by learning, by academic excellence, was wilfully trashed. Local authorities, that at the time had so much power, failed to demand that schools improve.
Bernard Donoghue, Jim Callaghan’s adviser and the man responsible for the prime minister’s seminal Ruskin speech, delivered an early warning. Donoghue had come from a working-class background and was appalled that his children in Islington state schools were receiving a threadbare education. He firmly believed that the prospects of poor children were being ruined by ‘middle-class ideologues’ whose pet theories were reinforcing disadvantage not alleviating it.
My experiences at the time chimed with his. Intellectual excellence was sacrificed on the altar of social equality. To strive, to compete, to achieve was considered reactionary.
To show respect was craven. To expect obedience was oppressive. Rules, competitive sport, professional dress and uniforms were all too often ditched.
Headteachers were encouraged to pander to their staff and to their students. They were expected to be a friend not a leader. Some even styled themselves ‘convener’ rather than head. ‘Call me Pete,’ one urged his students. I can assure you none of my students ever called me ‘Mike’.
The external support headteachers needed to resist much of this nonsense was often absent. Local authorities rarely took a stand. Indeed, they often capitulated to those who were prepared to undermine authority. The establishment response, from local government to teacher training institutions, was unconditional surrender. Management was conditioned to concede.
One head who did stand against the tide was Rhodes Boyson. Admittedly, he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But Dr Boyson, a Labour councillor before he became a Tory MP, clearly had taken Harold Wilson’s injunction to run a ‘grammar school for all’ to heart.
His comprehensive, Highbury Grove in Islington, retained the traditions, rules and ethos of a grammar. Students were expected to excel and teachers were required to help them. It’s instructive to compare the results his students achieved with those of a neighbouring school, Islington Green, run on trendier lines. In 1978, Highbury Grove students achieved 220 passes at O level and 40 at A level. At Islington Green they managed only 22 O levels and a pitiful two passes at A level.
As I said at the start of my speech, I’ve come to reclaim the comprehensive ideal – not to bury it.
Despite the wrong turns, despite the egregious polices that were sometimes implemented in its name, the founding principle of comprehensives – to offer a decent education to all abilities – remains a sound one. What is more, it is the only approach that will address the educational needs of the entire country, not just bits of it.
The reason I believe comprehensives are better today is that many more heads behave as Dr Boyson did all those years ago.
But not all do. If we are to reclaim the comprehensive vision, if more of our schools are to succeed, then we need to find more leaders who are prepared to challenge the orthodoxies that have damaged education over the past 40 years. And in the battle against tired ideologies and harmful classroom practices good leadership is essential.
What do school leaders need to do to reclaim the vision?
First, they have to challenge tired teaching orthodoxies.
There are many comprehensive schools, some with incredibly challenging intakes, which provide a demanding intellectual education for their students.
Unfortunately, there are others that do the opposite. They still indulge in attitudes and practices that are far from exceptional and are a throwback to the 60s and 70s. ‘Informal’ or ‘individualised learning’ is a case in point. This once-fashionable concept was based on the belief that children learn best by self-discovery, that criticism and adult supervision stifle youthful creativity.
Its legacy still lingers in some schools today: academic rigour is undervalued; basic literacy and numeracy are neglected; subject specialism is relegated in favour of cross-curricula muddle. Its echoes are particularly apparent in the continued resistance to exams and any form of meaningful qualification.
‘There is more to education than tests,’ some say. Yes, there is. But they are essential passports to further educational opportunity. And for youngsters who cannot rely on family connections, those four little letters – GCSE – are essential to prevent them being saddled with four less useful letters: NEET – not in employment, education or training.
Headteachers need to challenge any attitude that implies that a child’s educational potential is limited by their social class. And they must insist that the curriculum is academically robust. It is the key to greater life chances. After all, we are in the possibilities game. And a school that doesn’t push a student to excel, to do everything possible to succeed academically, simply isn’t doing its job.
Second, we need leaders who are prepared to confront parents who refuse to take responsibility. One of the less talked about consequences of the move to comprehensives was that the relationship between schools and parents was often severed. Parents expected little of their local comprehensives and schools expected little of them.
As any successful headteacher knows, the engagement and support of parents and carers is crucial to the success of a school. They have to be told how important they are to the education of their children. Education is a compact; both parties have a role to play.
Too many comprehensives ignored this partnership. And this neglect had a corrosive consequence: parents were infantilised because they were rarely reminded of their responsibilities or engaged in an effective way.
Too few comprehensive headteachers thought it was their job to tell parents that they expected homework to be completed, or books to be brought in, or that it was unacceptable for children to be absent during term time.
I’m glad to say the situation has improved markedly since those days. Home-school agreements are common, parental engagement is a priority for most school leaders and public trust in the profession is high. But some schools still fail to tell parents how vital they are to the process of education and some parents fail to understand what exactly is expected of them.
This is most commonly seen in the opposition of some parents to strict uniform policies. ‘How dare they send my Oliver home because he has the wrong colour socks!’ they complain to the local paper. ‘It’s not vital to his education!’ Oh yes it is.
Strict uniform rules send a key message: ‘We, the teachers, are in charge. This is our school; these are our rules. And if you want your children to attend, you will abide by them.’
In my view, heads should not balk at telling parents when they fail in their duties to the school or their children. Poverty, or for that matter wealth, does not excuse parents from the responsibility to support their child or their school. And if they are not doing it, they should be told.
Third, good leaders challenge the view that competition is an ugly word. One of the most enduring legacies of the educational upheaval of 40 years ago is the effect it had on competitive sports. Sporting competitions, leagues, house games and all the other activities that underpinned a successful school ethos were jettisoned. In the eyes of many they were forever tainted with the elitism associated with grammar and independent schools.
Competition itself was regarded with distrust because it divided children into winners and losers. And that contradicted the warped version of equality many at the time held.
The pride sporting teams contribute to a school’s ethos was dismissed. The fact that children thrive and like competition was ignored. Yes, some children inevitably fail. But learning to deal with and move on from failure is one of the biggest lessons sport can teach.
As our report into competitive sports published today makes clear, state schools are still living with the consequences. Some 42% of UK medals won at the London Olympics were won by sportsmen and women who went to independent schools. This isn’t surprising when you consider the central role sport plays in those institutions. In independent schools, competitive sport isn’t an optional extra; it’s a key component in building self-esteem, confidence and academic excellence.
Of course, many independent schools enjoy financial advantages not available to their state-funded peers. But as our report also makes clear, it is not resource that is the key to their success but attitude. Children are expected to compete and teachers are expected to go the extra mile to help them.
I’m delighted to say that some state schools have also taken those lessons to heart. They use competitive sport to energise the entire school; their leaders understand its value and continually promote it. They ensure that their staff sign up to that goal and that all children, regardless of sporting prowess, are included in some way.
Pride in a team, the thrill of a new challenge, encouraging every student to have a go pays academic dividends. As a result, attainment across the school tends to be high. The school that wins on the pitch wins in the exam hall.
If these schools can do it, so can many more. But as things stand, many state schools treat competitive sport as an optional extra or fail to offer it in any meaningful way.
We have to get rid of this curious leftover from the 70s that competition has no place in schools. Of course it does. The best headteachers are highly competitive people. The best schools aim to win. Competition isn’t incompatible with collaboration; it’s a necessary component of it. If you’re not good, you have little of value to share. We need to celebrate schools’ competitive instincts.  Competition is good.
Finally, good leaders insist that the school is an orderly place. In the popular mind one of the biggest problems of the early comprehensives was poor student behaviour. It was obvious to me as a teacher in London that in many schools good behaviour was notable by its absence. Discipline evaporated as tradition was trashed and instruction was supplanted by indulgence.
In many schools the child was a ‘partner’ and the teacher a ‘friend’. The idea that a teacher could insist that a student follow his or her instructions was therefore moot.
This environment allowed weak teaching to flourish. Weakness was dressed up as ‘respect’ for a child’s innate difference. It was in truth a refusal to be professional, a refusal to take responsibility. And In the worst cases, it bred not respect for the child but disdain. ‘What can we do with kids like these?’ became an all too familiar excuse as behaviour deteriorated and exam results fell off a cliff.
But it wasn’t the kids who were at fault. We, the supposed professionals, were. We had abrogated our duty to be experts and authority figures. They hadn’t stopped being children; we had ceased to be teachers.
Although the excesses of the past are thankfully rare now, the notion that firm discipline is somehow unjust persists. I still see articles today with headlines such as ‘Do strict behaviour policies make for happy schools?’ and comments like ‘children must be able to discover what rules are appropriate for themselves.’
What nonsense. Children, especially those who lack structure at home, want and expect teachers to give them rules. In their absence, they do not sit around politely debating the most appropriate ones to follow. And they certainly don’t think much of teachers who give them the option.
Yet some teachers remain reluctant to say: ‘I’m in charge, these are my rules and you will follow them.’ Phrases such as ‘behaviour management’ are still bandied around as if a child’s conduct is something to be negotiated. It smacks of compromise and containment. It undermines authority and it implies that discipline cannot be imposed.
Schools must accept that discipline is not a dirty word. A good comprehensive school is a well-disciplined school where important rules are non-negotiable. They are as much about protecting the child as any safeguarding policy. Children are happiest in a school that is calm and well ordered and where they feel safe. It’s the only environment in which learning can flourish. Without it, teaching becomes impossible, learning dissolves; staff become disillusioned and too often leave.
As I said earlier, the main reason I believe comprehensives schools have improved so much is that they now enjoy a quality of leadership that they lacked before.
In the past, senior leaders were often complicit in their own enfeeblement. They thought they lacked the legitimacy to lead. Most headteachers today do not lack self-belief. But if we are to entrench the gains we have made, all school leaders must learn to lead from the front. They must radiate authority. They must attend to the small details as well as the big picture. They must not become absentee managers, addicted to networking but averse to spending time in their school. They, and we, must learn the lessons of where school reform went wrong.
I have a suspicion that even now, for all the progress we have made, effective management is still seen in some quarters as marginal to the real purpose of schools – that good learning and teaching can happen miraculously without it. Well it can’t. And unless all comprehensives become synonymous with excellent leadership they will never be able to provide the education their students deserve.
Let me be clear, we need to reclaim and celebrate comprehensive education in this country not because I’m a romantic but because I’m a realist. It isn’t about salvaging the reputation of a discredited sixties ideology. It’s about acknowledging that there is only one school model that can realistically educate all our children to a standard they and the country deserve.
For all the nostalgic talk about bringing back selective education, the fact remains that virtually every top performing education system in the world follows some type of comprehensive model.
If we are to emulate them, we have to be honest about what went wrong in the past. I am optimistic that our schools are up to the challenge. But we have to ditch the legacy that blighted too many schools and that still lingers today.
Comprehensives must be unambiguously academic. They must be relentlessly competitive. They must engage with parents and carers. They must be places where discipline is taken for granted. And they must be exceptionally led.
If they do that, if we exorcise the ghosts of the past, then we will succeed. Because, ultimately, for our schools, the future is comprehensive.
Thank you.
‘Going the extra mile: excellence in competitive school sport’ Ofsted, 2014


TO LIVE AND DIE IN L.A. A Film Review Copyright Dragan Antulov 1998
If the current trends of Hollywood filmmaking continue, we are probably five or six years away from the moment when the 1980s would become the next Golden Age of movie nostalgia. Although some Hollywood products already use the last decade as a background for their stories (mostly in ironic way, like GROSSE POINTE BLANK and ROMY & MICHELLE'S HIGH SCHOOL REUNION), some time should pass before the good memories of that era overcome the bad ones. Until that happens, 1980s would be remembered as the Decade of Greed, when the revolutionary ideals of 1960s turned into its cruel, materialistic opposite and the money became the only thing that matters. Contemporary movies are good in illustrating what was bad for the people who had to live in those times. One of such movies, one that probably brings the essence of 1980s to the screen, is William Friedkin's TO LIVE AND DIE IN L.A.
The money isn't just the symbolic motive in the film, it is the major elements of the plot. Rick Masters (Willem Dafoe) is an ex-convict who used his artistic abilities in order to become one of the best counterfeiters in L.A. Being too intelligent to fall into police traps, and ruthless enough to eliminate anybody or anything that could jeopardise his career, Masters managed to elude law for years and became well- connected. Richard Chance (William L. Petersen) is a Secret Service agent, adrenaline junkie whose life gets new meaning after his partner got killed by Masters. However, his plans of bringing the counterfeiter down meet one obstacle after another. Finally he sets up a final sting, but his superiors deny him the necessary money. Being frustrated, and against the reluctance of his new partner John Vukovich (Bill Pankow), he decides to get the money by robbing underworld courier. Their plan backfires with almost tragic consequences when their target turns out to be undercover FBI agent, but Chance decides to carry out his scheme anyway.
Like FRENCH CONNECTION, one of his previous masterpieces, this Friedkin's movie was inspired by real life. Gerrald Petievich, author of the novel that later served as basis for his screenplay, spent many years working as a Secret Service agent. That turned to be useful for the portrayal of that law enforcement agency, not much utilised by Hollywood. Secret Service millieu was also cleverly used in order to bring the viewer into the Decade of Greed; the beginning scene where the movie's hero works as a part of presidential security detail is a nice opportunity to hear Reagan's speech that could illustrate the political and economical notions of those times.
Ultramaterialistic and egotistical view of the world is shared by almost any character in the movie. Willem Dafoe brilliantly portrays dangerous and intelligent psychopath, whose ruthlessness and lack of any moral fibber doesn't seem like affliction in the Reagan years; on the contrary, those qualities actually makes Masters socially acceptable. Compared with him, and all the other side characters that want their "piece of the action", two heroes on the side of Law seem like losers. Instead of being a classical good guy, Secret Service agent Richard Chance (portrayed by William Petersen in his most impressive role so far) is nothing more than a lunatic whose adrenaline addiction and madness work against his better judgement; his sidekick, who should serve as those "better judgement" is a weakling and sentimental fool that gets suckered in the end. In such surroundings of moral decay, the not so happy, yet surprising ending doesn't seem out of line (although the very last shot leaves too much questions unanswered).
The dark atmosphere of L.A. - city of glamour and moral decay - is nicely captured by William Friedkin's directing skills. The tight and realistic scripts with memorable characters (portrayed by such capable actors like John Turturro, Dean Stockwell, Debra Feuer, Darlanne Fleugel and Steve James) gave opportunity for Friedkin to use another gimmick that made him famous in his 1971 masterpiece - great car chase. That scene alone, with lot of realism, thrills and surprise twists, is worth seeing the rest of the film. The soundtrack, provided by now almost forgotten band "Wang Chung", is also one of the more memorable of that decade. In every case, TO LIVE AND DIE IN L.A. is one of the rare movies in which Hollywood actually tries to tell some unflattering truths about the world and succeeds in it.
RATING: 8/10 (+++)
Review written on July 30th 1998
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Annotator for performing "in silico" validation of copy number variants using SNP array intensity data.
The IntensityRankSum annotator is invoked through the SVAnnotator framework, which defines arguments common to all annotators.
The IntensityRankSum annotator uses SNP array intensity data to do a form of "in silico" validation of copy number variants. The general approach is to use a Wilcoxon rank sum test using the intensity data and to calculate a p-value as follows: For each array probe underlying the variant, each sample is assigned an integral rank for that probe. Then the set of ranks (across all probes) is combined and treated as a set of observations for the Wilcoxon rank sum test. If there is more than one probe, there will certainly be ties (i.e. some sample will be rank 1 with respect to each probe). Ties are broken randomly to assign the final ranking. The random seed is based on the input data, so identical inputs will always produce identical results. The Wilcoxon rank sum test is applied to the final combined ranking to test whether the event-carrying samples (see below) are shifted with respect to the non-event-carrying samples. This is a one-tailed test of a negative shift (for deletions) or a positive shift (for duplications).
For CNVs, two tests are performed (and two p-values generated). First, the appropriate reference ploidy is determined. The test is only performed on intervals of uniform gender-independent ploidy, or as special case on intervals of uniform gender-dependent ploidy if gender information is available and all of the input samples share the same gender. The two tests are a negative-shift test for samples with copy number less than the reference ploidy (typically two, i.e. diploid) compared to all samples whose copy number matches the reference ploidy and a positive-shift test for samples with copy number greater than the reference ploidy (typically two) compared to all samples whose copy number matches the reference ploidy.
This annotator can be run in one of several modes, depending on whether you have genotypes for each sample or simply a list of samples believed to carry the variant (either as homozygotes or heterozygotes). The -irsUseGenotypes flag indicates which mode to use.
If you do not use genotypes (i.e. you are evaluating a set of discovered sites without genotypes), then the annotator will expect an INFO tag on each variant to indicate the set of samples that are thought to carry the variant (either as homozygotes or heterozygotes). The variants must be either deletions (SVTYPE=DEL) or duplications (SVTYPE=DUP). In addition, you must supply a list of samples that were evaluated during discovery (using -sample) so that the list of non-carrier samples can be determined for each variant.
If you use genotypes, then the annotator will process any kind of CNV (SVTYPE=DEL, SVTYPE=DUP or SVTYPE=CNV). Genotypes will be taken from the GT/GQ fields (if present) or from the CN/CNQ fields and the genotypes will be used to determine carrier and non-carrier samples. For CNVs, if GT/GQ fields are present then the alleles must be symbolic copy number alleles (e.g. <CNx>).
The array intensity input file is a tab-delimited text file consisting of four fixed columns (ID, CHROM, START, END) and a variable number of additional columns, one per sample that has array data. The file consists of a header line specifying these four columns and then the name of each sample. After the header line, the file contains one line per array-probe location and must be sorted in reference-sequence order. Each array-probe location should have a single intensity value. For SNP probes, this is usually the sum of the A and B normalized probe intensities. The START and END coordinates are generally the same, corresponding to the SNP position.
This annotator can produce the following outputs: Annotated output VCF, report file.
This annotator produces the following INFO field annotations for each VCF record (or the corresponding column in the report file):
The IntensityRankSum annotator provides basic statistics for each site, but the most robust way to interpret the results is to estimate the false discovery rate (FDR) of a large call set as a whole using the following procedure: For each IRS p-value (LOWER or UPPER), calculate the ratio of the number of sites with a p-value >= 0.5 to the number of sites with a valid p-value (i.e. sites with probes) and double this ratio to estimate the FDR of the call set as a whole. This callset-wide estimation is more robust than trying to assess individual sites, as the p-values on individual sites are not always well-calibrated due to inflation in the tails of the p-value distribution. As a result, using a p-value cutoff of 0.01 may yield a call set with a true FDR higher than 1%.
Example for assessing discovery, using INFO tags to determine carrier and non-carrier samples.
# Discovery example (using INFO tags) java -Xmx4g -cp SVToolkit.jar \ org.broadinstitute.sv.main.SVAnnotator \ -A IntensityRankSum \ -R human_g1k_v37.fasta \ -vcf input.vcf \ -O output.vcf \ -arrayIntensityFile ALL.genome.Omni25_probe_intensity_matrix.20110425.dat \ -sample discovery_samples.list \ -irsSampleTag IRSSAMPLES \ -writeReport true \ -reportFile irs_output.report.dat
Example for assessing genotyped variants, using the genotypes in the input VCF file to determine carrier and non-carrier samples.
# Genotyped example (using genotype fields) java -Xmx4g -cp SVToolkit.jar \ org.broadinstitute.sv.main.SVAnnotator \ -A IntensityRankSum \ -R human_g1k_v37.fasta \ -vcf input.vcf \ -O output.vcf \ -arrayIntensityFile ALL.genome.Omni25_probe_intensity_matrix.20110425.dat \ -irsUseGenotypes true \ -writeReport true \ -reportFile irs_output.report.dat
| Name | Type | Default value | Summary |
|---|---|---|---|
| Required | |||
| --arrayIntensityFile | File | NA | Path to file containing matrix of array intensity values |
| Optional | |||
| --genotypeQualityThreshold | Double | NA | When using genotypes, ignore genotypes below this genotype quality GQ value (default no threshold) |
| --irsBoundaryPadding | Integer | 0 | Probes within this distance of inner site boundaries are not used |
| --irsPermute | String | false | Whether to permute samples to generate null distribution |
| --irsSampleTag | String | IRSSAMPLES | VCF INFO tag containing list of carrier samples |
| --irsUseGenotypes | String | false | Whether to use genotypes or INFO tags to select carrier samples |
| --sample | List[String] | NA | Sample(s) or .list file of sample names. Used to determine the non-carrier samples when not using genotypes. |
Path to file containing matrix of array intensity values.
When using genotypes, ignore genotypes below this genotype quality GQ value (default no threshold).
Probes within this distance of inner site boundaries are not used.
Whether to permute samples to generate null distribution.
VCF INFO tag containing list of carrier samples.
Whether to use genotypes or INFO tags to select carrier samples.
Sample(s) or .list file of sample names. Used to determine the non-carrier samples when not using genotypes..
See also Documentation index | GenomeSTRiP Site | GenomeSTRiP Support
GenomeSTRiP version 1.04-r1441 built at 2014/07/14 14:26:06.


Realizing that he had no way of knowing which cabin was supposed to be his, he put his head into several. They were dark, and all of them had two men asleep in the narrow beds built against each side, all but one, which held Loial, sitting on the floor between the beds—and barely fitting—scribbling in his cloth-bound book of notes by the light of a gimballed lantern. The Ogier wanted to talk about the events of the day, but Perrin, jaws creaking with the effort of holding his yawns in, thought the ship must have run far enough downriver by now to make it safe to sleep. Safe to dream. Even if they tried, wolves could not long keep pace with the sweeps and the current.
Finally he found a windowless cabin with no one in it at all, which suited him just as well. He wanted to be alone. A coincidence in the name, that’s all, he thought as he lit the lantern mounted on the wall. Anyway, her real name is Zarine. But the girl with the high cheekbones and dark, tilted eyes was not uppermost in his thoughts. He put his bow and other belongings on one cramped bed, tossed his cloak over them, and sat on the other to tug off his boots.
Elyas Machera had found a way to live with what he was, a man somehow linked with wolves, and he had not gone mad. Thinking back, Perrin was sure Elyas had been living that way for years before he ever met the man. He wants to be that way. He accepts it, anyway. That was no solution. Perrin did not want to live that way, did not want to accept. But if you have the bar stock to make a knife, you accept it and make a knife, even if you’d like a woodaxe. No! My life is more than iron to be hammered into shape.
Cautiously, he reached out with his mind, feeling for wolves, and found—nothing. Oh, there was a dim impression of wolves somewhere in the distance, but it faded even as he touched it. For the first time in so long, he was alone. Blessedly alone.
Blowing out the lantern, he lay down, for the first time in days. How in the Light will Loial manage in one of these? Those all but sleepless nights rolled over him, exhaustion slacking his muscles. It came to him that he had managed to put the Aiel out of his head. And the Whitecloaks. Light-forsaken axe! Burn me, I wish I had never seen it, was his last thought before sleep.
Thick gray fog surrounded him, dense enough low down that he could not see his own boots, and so heavy on every side that he could not make out anything ten paces away. There was surely nothing nearer. Anything at all might lie within it. The mist did not feel right; there was no dampness to it. He put a hand to his belt, seeking the comfort of knowing he could defend himself, and gave a start. His axe was not there.
Something moved in the fog, a swirling in the grayness. Something coming his way.
He tensed, wondering if it was better to run or stand and fight with his bare hands, wondering if there was anything to fight.
The billowing furrow boring through the fog resolved itself into a wolf, its shaggy form almost one with the heavy mist.
Hopper?
The wolf hesitated, then came to stand beside him. It was Hopper—he was certain—but something about the wolf’s stance, something in the yellow eyes that looked up briefly to meet his, demanded silence, in mind as well as body.
He laid a hand on the wolf’s back, and as he did, Hopper started forward. He let himself be led. The fur under his hand was thick and shaggy. It felt real.
The fog began to thicken, until only his hand told him Hopper was still there, until a glance down did not even show him his own chest. Just gray mist. He might as well have been wrapped in new-sheared wool for all he could see. It struck him that he had heard nothing, either. Not even the sound of his own footsteps. He wiggled his toes, and was relieved to feel the boots on his feet.
The gray became darker, and he and the wolf walked through pitch-blackness. He could not see his hand when he touched his nose. He could not see his nose, for that matter. He tried closing his eyes for a moment, and could not tell any difference. There was still no sound. His hand felt the rough hair of Hopper’s back, but he was not sure he could feel anything under his boots.
Suddenly Hopper stopped, forcing him to halt, too. He looked around . . . and snapped his eyes shut. He could tell a difference, now. And feel something, too, a queasy twisting of his stomach. He made himself open his eyes and look down.
What he saw could not have been there, not unless he and Hopper were standing in midair. He could see nothing of the wolf or himself, as if neither had bodies at all—that thought nearly tied his stomach into knots—but below him, as clear as if lit by a thousand lamps, stretched a vast array of mirrors, seemingly hanging in blackness though as level as if they stood on a vast floor. They stretched as far as he could see in every direction, but right beneath his feet, there was a clear space. And people in it. Suddenly he could hear their voices as well as if he had been standing among them.
“Great Lord,” one of the men muttered, “where is this place?” He looked around once, flinching at his image cast back at him many thousandfold, and held his eyes forward after that. The others huddled around him seemed even more afraid. “I was asleep in Tar Valon, Great Lord. I am asleep in Tar Valon! Where is this place? Have I gone mad?”
Some of the men around him wore ornate coats full of embroidery, others plainer garb, while some seemed to be naked, or in their small-clothes.
“I, too, sleep,” a naked man nearly screamed. “In Tear. I remember lying down with my wife!”
“And I do sleep in Illian,” a man in red and gold said, sounding shaken. “I know that I do sleep, but that cannot be. I know that I do dream, but that does be impossible. Where does this be, Great Lord? Are you really come to me?”
The dark-haired man who faced them was garbed in black, with silver lace at his throat and wrists. Now and again he put a hand to his chest, as if it hurt him. There was light everywhere down there, coming from nowhere, but this man below Perrin seemed cloaked in shadow. Darkness rolled around him, caressed him.
“Silence!” The black-clothed man did not speak loudly, but he had no need to.
Perrin knew him, then. Ba’alzamon. He was staring down at Ba’alzamon himself. Fear struck through him like hammered spikes. He would have run, but he could not feel his feet.
Hopper shifted. He felt the thick fur under his hand and gripped it hard. Something real. Something more real, he hoped, than what he saw. But he knew that both were real.
The men huddling together cowered.
“You have been given tasks,” Ba’alzamon said. “Some of these tasks you have carried out. At others, you have failed.”   Those who have been marked for taking must bow to me. To fail the Great Lord of the Dark cannot be forgiven.” Fire shone through his eyes, and the darkness around him roiled and spun. “You.” His finger pointed out the man who had spoken of Tar Valon, a fellow dressed like a merchant, in plainly cut clothes of the finest cloth. The others shied away from him as if he had blackbile fever, leaving him to cower alone. “You allowed the boy to escape Tar Valon.”
The man screamed, and began to quiver like a file struck against an anvil. He seemed to become less solid, and his scream thinned with him.
“You all dream,” Ba’alzamon said, “but what happens in this dream is real.” The shrieking man was only a bundle of mist shaped like a man, his scream far distant, and then even the mist was gone. “I fear he will never wake.”  “The rest of you will not fail me again. Begone! Wake, and obey!” The other men vanished.
For a moment Ba’alzamon stood alone, then suddenly there was a woman with him, clad all in white and silver.
Shock hit Perrin. He could never forget a woman so beautiful. She was the woman from his dream, the one who had urged him to glory.
An ornate silver throne appeared behind her, and she sat, carefully arranging her silken skirts. “You make free use of my domain,” she said.
“Your domain?” Ba’alzamon said. “You claim it yours, then? Do you no longer serve the Great Lord of the Dark?” The darkness around him thickened for an instant, seemed to boil.
“I serve,” she said quickly. “I have served the Lord of the Twilight long. Long did I lie imprisoned for my service, in an endless, dreamless sleep. Only Gray Men and Myrddraal are denied dreams. Even Trollocs can dream. Dreams were always mine, to use and walk. Now I am free again, and I will use what is mine.”
“What is yours,” Ba’alzamon said. The blackness swirling ’round him seemed mirthful. “You always thought yourself greater than you were, Lanfear.”
The name cut at Perrin like a newly honed knife. One of the Forsaken had been in his dreams. Moiraine had been right. Some of them were free.
The woman in white was on her feet, the throne gone. “I am as great as I am. What have your plans come to? Three thousand years and more of whispering in ears and pulling the strings of throned puppets like an Aes Sedai!” Her voice invested the name with all scorn. “Three thousand years, and yet Lews Therin walks the world again, and these Aes Sedai all but have him leashed. Can you control him? Can you turn him? He was mine before ever that straw-haired chit Ilyena saw him! He will be mine again!”
“Do you serve yourself now, Lanfear?” Ba’alzamon’s voice was soft, but flame raged continuously in his eyes and mouth. “Have you abandoned your oaths to the Great Lord of the Dark?” For an instant the darkness nearly obliterated him, only the glowing fires showing through. “They are not so easily broken as the oaths to the Light you forsook, proclaiming your new master in the very Hall of the Servants.  Will you serve, or do you choose an eternity of pain, of endless dying without release?”
“I serve.” Despite her words, she stood tall and defiant. “I serve the Great Lord of the Dark and none other. Forever!”
The vast array of mirror began to vanish as if black waves rolled in over it, ever closer to the center. The tide rolled over Ba’alzamon and Lanfear. There was only blackness.
Perrin felt Hopper move, and he was more than glad to follow, guided only by the feel of fur under his head. It was not until he was moving that he realized he could. He tried to puzzle out what he had seen, without any success. Ba’alzamon and Lanfear. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. For some reason, Lanfear frightened him more than Ba’alzamon did. Perhaps because she had been in his dreams in the mountains. Light! One of the Forsaken in my dreams! Light! And unless he had missed something, she had defied the Dark One. He had been told and taught that the Shadow could have no power over you if you denied it; but how could a Darkfriend—not just a Darkfriend; one of the Forsaken!—defy the Shadow? I must be mad, like Simion’s brother. These dreams have driven me mad!
Slowly the blackness became fog again, and the fog gradually thinned until he walked out of it with Hopper onto a grassy hillside bright with daylight. Birds began to sing from a thicket at the foot of the hill. He looked back. A hilly plain dotted with clumps of trees stretched to the horizon. There was no sign of fog anywhere. The big, grizzled wolf stood watching him.
“What was that?” he demanded, struggling in his mind to turn the question to thoughts the wolf could understand. “Why did you show it to me? What was it?”
Emotions and images flooded his thoughts, and his mind put words to them. What you must see. Be careful, Young Bull. This place is dangerous. Be wary as a cub hunting porcupine. That came as something closer to Small Thorny Back, but his mind named the animal the way he knew it as a man.
“Was it real?”
All is real, what is seen, and what is not seen. That seemed to be all the answer Hopper was going to give.
“Hopper, how are you here? I saw you die. I felt you die!”
All are here. All brothers and sisters that are, all that were, all that will be. Perrin knew that wolves did not smile, not the way humans did, but for an instant he had the impression that Hopper was grinning. Here, I soar like the eagle. The wolf gathered himself and leaped, up into the air. Up and up it carried him, until he dwindled to a speck in the sky, and a last thought came. To soar.
 He did it. His eyes burned suddenly, and he cleared his throat and scrubbed at his nose.  Without thinking, he looked around to see if anyone had seen him, and that quickly everything changed.
He was standing on a rise, with shadowy, indistinct dips and swells all around him. They seemed to fade into the distance too soon. Rand stood below him. Rand, and a ragged circle of Myrddraal and men and women his eyes seemed to slide right past. Dogs howled somewhere in the distance, and Perrin knew they were hunting something. Myrddraal scent and the stink of burned sulphur filled the air. Perrin’s hackles rose.
The circle of Myrddraal and people came closer to Rand, all walking as if asleep.  Balls of fire flew from his hands and consumed two. Lightning flashed from above to shrivel others. Bars of light like white-hot steel flew from his fists to more. And the survivors continued to walk slowly closer, as if none of them saw what was happening. One by one they died, until none were left, and Rand sank down on his knees, panting. Perrin was not sure whether he was laughing or crying; it seemed to be some of each.
Shapes appeared over the rises, more people coming, more Myrddraal, all intent on Rand.
Perrin cupped his hands to his mouth. “Rand! Rand, there are more coming!”
Rand looked up at him from his crouch, snarling, sweat slicking his face.
“Rand, they’re—!”
“Burn you!” Rand howled.
Light burned Perrin’s eyes, and pain seared everything.
Groaning, he rolled into a ball on the narrow bed, the light still burning behind his eyelids. His chest hurt.
Bit by bit he forced his knotted muscles to let him straighten his legs and lie flat in the dark cabin. Moiraine. I have to tell Moiraine this time. Just have to wait till the pain goes away.
But as the pain began to fade, exhaustion took him. He barely had a thought that he must get up before sleep pulled him down again.
When he opened his eyes again, he lay staring at the beams overhead. Light at the top and bottom of the door told him morning had come.
His fingers found the burn. I didn’t imagine it, then. He had dim memories of a few other dreams, fading even as he recalled them. Ordinary dreams. He even felt as if he had had a good night’s sleep. And could use another one right now. But it meant he could sleep. As long as there are no wolves around, anyway.
He remembered making a decision in that brief waking after the dream with Hopper, and after a moment he decided it had been a good one.
It took knocking on five doors and being cursed at twice—the inhabitants of two cabins had gone on deck—before he found Moiraine. She was fully dressed, but sitting on one of the narrow beds cross-legged, reading in her book of notes by lantern light. Back near the beginning, he saw, notes that must have been made even before she had come to Emond’s Field. Lan’s things were neatly placed on the other bed.
“I had a dream,” he told her, and proceeded to tell her of it. All of it. He even pulled up his shirt to show her the small circle on his chest, red, with wavy red lines radiating from it. He had kept things from her before, and he suspected he would again, but this might be too important to hold back. The pin was the smallest part of a pair of scissors, and the easiest made, but without it, the scissors cut no cloth. When he was done, he stood there waiting.
She had watched him without expression, except that those dark eyes had examined every word as it came out of his mouth, weighed it, measured it, held it up to the light. Now she sat the same way, only it was he who was examined, weighed, and held up to the light.
“Well, is it important?” he demanded finally. “I think it was one of those wolf dreams you told me about—I’m sure it was; it must have been!—but that doesn’t make what I saw real. Only, you said maybe some of the Forsaken are free, and he called her Lanfear, and . . . Is it important, or am I standing here making a fool out of myself?”
“There are women,” she said slowly, “who would do their best to gentle you if they heard what I just did.” His lungs seemed to freeze; he could not breathe. “I am not accusing you of being able to channel,” she went on, and the ice inside him melted, “or even of being able to learn. An attempt at gentling would not harm you, beyond the rough treatment the Red Ajah would give you before they realized their error. Such men are so rare, even the Reds with all their hunting have not found more than three in the last ten years. Before the outbreak of false Dragons, at least. What I am trying to make clear to you is that I do not think you will suddenly begin wielding the Power. You do not have to be afraid of that.”
“Well, thank you very much for that,” he said bitterly. “You did not have to scare me to death just so you could tell me there was no need to be frightened!”
“Oh, you do have reason to be frightened. Or at least careful, as the wolf suggested. Red sisters, or others, might kill you before they discovered there was nothing to gentle in you.”
“Light! Light burn me!” He stared at her with a frown. “You’re trying to lead me around by the nose, Moiraine, but I am no calf, and there’s no ring in my nose. The Red Ajah or any other would not think of gentling unless there was something real in what I dreamed. Does it mean the Forsaken are loose?”
“I told you before that they might be. Some of them.  Dreamers have written of wolves, but I did not expect this.”
“Well, I think it was real. I think I saw something that really happened, something I wasn’t supposed to see.” What you must see. “I think Lanfear is loose at the very least. What are you going to do?”
“I am going to Illian. And then I will go to Tear, and hope to reach it before Rand. We had need to leave Remen too quickly for Lan to learn whether he crossed the river or went down it. We should know before we reach Illian, though. We will find sign if he has gone this way.” She glanced at her book as if she wanted to resume her reading.
“Is that all you are going to do? With Lanfear loose, and the Light alone knows how many of the others?”
“Do not question me,” she said coldly. “You do not know which questions to ask, and you would comprehend less than half the answers if I gave them. Which I will not.”
He shifted his feet under her gaze until it became clear she would say no more on the matter. His shirt rubbed painfully at the burn on his chest. It did not seem a bad hurt—Not for being struck by lightning it doesn’t!—but how he had come by it was another matter. “Uh . . . Will you Heal this?”
“Are you no longer uneasy about the One Power being used on you, then, Perrin? No, I will not Heal it. It is not serious, and it will remind you of the need to be careful.” Careful about pressing her, he knew, as well as about dreams or letting others know of them. “If there is nothing else, Perrin?”
He started for the door, then stopped. “There is one thing. If you knew a woman’s name was Zarine, would you think it meant anything about her?”
“Why under the Light do you ask this question?”
“A girl,” he said awkwardly. “A young woman. I met her last night. She’s one of the other passengers.” He would let her discover for herself that Zarine knew she was Aes Sedai. And seemed to think following them would lead her to the Horn of Valere. He would not keep back anything he thought was important, but if Moiraine could be secretive, so could he.
“Zarine. It is a Saldaean name. No woman would name her daughter that unless she expected her to be a great beauty. And a heartbreaker. One to lie on cushions in palaces, surrounded by servants and suitors.” She smiled, briefly but with great amusement. “Perhaps you have another reason to be careful, Perrin, if there is a Zarine as a passenger with us.”
“I intend to be careful,” he told her. At least he knew why Zarine did not like her name. Hardly fitting for a Hunter of the Horn. As long as she doesn’t call herself ‘falcon’.
When he went on deck, Lan was there, looking over Mandarb. And Zarine was sitting on a coil of rope near the railing, sharpening one of her knives and watching him. The big, triangular sails were set and taut, and the Snow Goose flew downriver.
Zarine’s eyes followed Perrin as he walked by her to stand in the bow. The water curled to either side of the prow like earth turning around a good plow. He wondered about dreams and Aielmen, Min’s viewings and falcons. His chest hurt. Life had never been as tangled as this.
Rand sat up out of his exhausted sleep, gasping, the cloak he had used as a blanket falling away. His side ached, the old wound from Falme throbbing. His fire had burned down to coals with only a few wavering flames, but it was still enough to make the shadows move. That was Perrin. It was! It was him, not a dream. Somehow. I almost killed him! Light, I have to be careful!
Shivering, he picked up a length of oak branch and started to shove it into the coals. The trees were scattered in these Murandian hills, still close to the Manetherendrelle, but he had found just enough fallen branches for his fire, the wood just old enough to be properly cured but not rotten. Before the wood touched the coals, he stopped. There were horses coming, ten or a dozen of them, walking slowly. I have to be careful. I cannot make another mistake.
The horses swung toward his failing fire, entered the dim light, and stopped. The shadows obscured their riders, but most seemed to be rough-faced men wearing round helmets and long leather jerkins sewn all over with metal discs like fish scales.  Her dark dress was plain wool, but the finest weave, and adorned with a silver pin in the shape of a lion. A merchant, she seemed to him; he had seen her sort among those who came to buy tabac and wool in the Two Rivers. A merchant and her guards.
I have to be careful, he thought as he stood. No mistakes.
“You have chosen a good campsite, young man,” she said. “I have often used it on my way to Remen. There is a small spring nearby. I trust you have no objection to my sharing it?” Her guards were already dismounting, hitching at their sword belts and loosening saddle girths.
“None,” Rand told her. Careful. Two steps brought him close enough, and he leaped into the air, spinning—Thistledown Floats on the Whirlwind—heron-mark blade carved from fire coming into his hands to take her head off before surprise could even form on her face. She was the most dangerous.
He alighted as the woman’s head rolled from the crupper of her horse. The guards yelled and clawed for their swords, screamed as they realized his blade burned. He danced among them in the forms Lan had taught him, and knew he could have killed all ten with ordinary steel, but the blade he wielded was part of him. The last man fell, and it had been so like practicing the forms that he had already begun the sheathing called Folding the Fan before he remembered he wore no scabbard and this blade would have turned it to ash at a touch if he had.
Letting the sword vanish, he turned to examine the horses. Most had run away, but some not far, and the woman’s tall gelding stood with rolling eyes, whickering uneasily. Her headless corpse, lying on the ground, had maintained its grip on the reins, and held the animal’s head down.
Rand pulled them free, pausing only to gather his few belongings before swinging into the saddle. I have to be careful, he thought as he looked over the dead. No mistakes.
The Power still filled him, the flow from saidin sweeter than honey, ranker than rotted meat. Abruptly he channeled—not really understanding what it was he did, or how, only that it seemed right; and it worked, lifting the corpses. He set them in a line, facing him, kneeling, faces in the dirt. For those who had faces left. Kneeling to him.
“If I am the Dragon Reborn,” he told them, “that is the way it is supposed to be, isn’t it?” Letting go of saidin was hard, but he did it. If I hold it too much, how will I keep the madness away? He laughed bitterly. Or is it too late for that?
Frowning, he peered at the line. He had been sure there were only ten men, but eleven men knelt in that line, one of them without armor of any sort but with a dagger still gripped in his hand.
“You chose the wrong company,” Rand told that man.
Wheeling the gelding, he dug in his heels and set the animal to a dead gallop into the night. It was a long way to Tear, yet, but he meant to get there by the straightest way, if he had to kill horses or steal them. I will put an end to it. The taunting. The baiting. I will end it! Callandor. It called to him.


abstract class Job
Methods
| void |
fire()
Fire the job. |
|
| void |
delete()
Delete the job from the queue. |
|
| void |
release(int $delay)
Release the job back into the queue. |
|
| int |
attempts()
Get the number of times the job has been attempted. |
|
| bool |
autoDelete()
Determine if job should be auto-deleted. |
Details
at line 24
abstract public void
fire()
Fire the job.
at line 31
abstract public void
delete()
Delete the job from the queue.
at line 39
abstract public void
release(int $delay)
Release the job back into the queue.
at line 46
abstract public int
attempts()
Get the number of times the job has been attempted.
at line 92
public bool
autoDelete()
Determine if job should be auto-deleted.


Gateway
BOT
11-Jul-18 12:29 PM
[dscrdeql] <slipersty> ah ok looking forward too work ?
[dscrdeql] <CryptoNoob8[BuyTheFuckingMN]> It was funny yesterday
[dscrdeql] <donaldmathers>
[dscrdeql] <CryptoNoob8[BuyTheFuckingMN]> The prince who ate the hungry desperate frog
[dscrdeql] <cellulitis> @slipersty never look forward to work....I goto work so I have money for crypto
[dscrdeql] <linkara6669> @cellulitis hey there buddddddd!
[dscrdeql] <cellulitis> too late bro
[dscrdeql] <linkara6669> @slipersty yo!!
[dscrdeql] <slipersty> true ^^
[dscrdeql] <cellulitis>
[dscrdeql] <linkara6669> @cellulitis haha i didnt see you were on though man lol
[dscrdeql] <slipersty> @linkara6669
[dscrdeql] <cellulitis> uh huh
[dscrdeql] <slipersty> haha ^^
[dscrdeql] <linkara6669> lol
[dscrdeql] <linkara6669> cant win them all lol
[dscrdeql] <cellulitis> lol
[dscrdeql] <slipersty> treu but you can atleast try ^^
[dscrdeql] <linkara6669> haha yes slip
[dscrdeql] <CryptoNoob8[BuyTheFuckingMN]> Shill me fundamentally solid project with <10m mcap
[dscrdeql] <linkara6669> lol this one
[dscrdeql] <CryptoNoob8[BuyTheFuckingMN]> Xp Mcap 14m
[dscrdeql] <CryptoNoob8[BuyTheFuckingMN]> Lol
[dscrdeql] <linkara6669> maybe do that in a different channel lol. other crypto talks in #other-crypto
[dscrdeql] <linkara6669> lol
[dscrdeql] <slipersty> yes think that i best this is the wrong channel for other coins
[dscrdeql] <donaldmathers>
[dscrdeql] <MySoulisNotForSale> good morning
[dscrdeql] <MySoulisNotForSale> and I guess gooodnight since I won't be here
[dscrdeql] <MySoulisNotForSale> woooo


Before Change
print("Discriminator pyramid layer:", result)
k=-1
result = dense_block(result, k, activation, batch_size, "transition", "d_layers_transition_"+str(i))
result = dense_block(result, k, activation, batch_size, "transition", "d_layers_transition_"+str(i+1))
result = dense_block(result, k, activation, batch_size, "transition", "d_layers_transition_"+str(i+2))
After Change
filter_size_w = 2
filter_size_h = 2
if(i==depth-1):
filter_size_w=int(result.get_shape()[1])
filter_size_h=int(result.get_shape()[2])
filter = [1,filter_size_w,filter_size_h,1]
stride = [1,filter_size_w,filter_size_h,1]
result = conv2d(result, int(int(result.get_shape()[3])*depth_increase), name="d_expand_layer"+str(i), k_w=3, k_h=3, d_h=1, d_w=1)
result = tf.nn.avg_pool(result, ksize=filter, strides=stride, padding="SAME")


Put a bird on it wolf gentrify retro forage freegan craft beer ramps, mlkshk cold-pressed listicle before they sold out +1 slow-carb.
Today 10:02
Tumblr meh chartreuse, messenger bag hammock heirloom bicycle rights pour-over fingerstache. Next level selfies kickstarter, vice gentrify pinterest whatever heirloom occupy ramps direct trade celiac +1.
Today 10:14
Viral portland thundercats readymade wayfarers man bun. Bespoke semiotics vegan, chia asymmetrical shabby chic quinoa man braid wayfarers
Today 10:20


Translating a Page
How to fully translate all translatable elements of a page into a language other than the default language. Translators are able to translate the page name, page title, page description and the titles and the content of any translatable modules.
A user must belong to one or more translator roles to translate pages for one or more languages.
Translating a Page directly on the Page
- Login to your user account. See "Logging into a Site". Note: The language flag for the site you are a translator for is now displayed above the control panel.
- Click the Check Notifications button to view details of waiting translations. As a translator, you will receive a message whenever content is awaiting translation. See "Viewing a Message"
- Select the Notifications tab and locate any notifications titled "New Content Ready for Translation".
- Click on the linked Page Name to go to the page that requires translation. E.g. Our Products (de-DE)
- This will take you to the page that requires translation. Note that the page and module names are appended with the language (e.g. de-DE) that the content must be translated into. The DNN application is also automatically changed to this language.
- Translate the page and module titles in one of the following ways:
- Translate the Page Name, Page Title and Page Description fields (See "Page Details Settings for Existing Pages") and then translate all module titles (See "Configuring Basic Module Settings") on the page.
- Select Page Localization from the Edit Page menu of the ControlBar and translate the page name, page title and page description (top three fields) and then go to the Page Modules section and translate the module titles for each translatable module.
- Translate the content of any module that you are able to edit. Modules that cannot be edited use a copy the default language content. See "Editing Module Content"
Translating a Page using the Languages module
Once you have been notified of the page or pages that require translations, you can use the Languages module to manage translations.
- See Steps 1-3 above to identify the page or pages that require translations.
- Navigate to Admin > Advanced Settings > Languages - OR - Go to a Languages module.
- At Select a Page, find or select the required page.
- Translate the page name, page title and page description (top three fields) and then go to the Page Modules section and translate the module titles for each translatable module.
-
Click the Update button.
- Click the View Page button to go to the page and then translate module content. See "Editing Module Content"
-
See "Translating a Module"
Next Step: See "Setting a Page as Translated"


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§412:10-204 Sale or purchase of assets. A credit union may sell all or part of its assets to another credit union, purchase all or part of the assets of another credit union and assume the liabilities of the selling credit union and those of its members. [L 1993, c 350, pt of §1]


This project is simple bulletin board base on Ethereum Tx.
Inspired by Bloomberg article "Chinese #MeToo Student Activists Use Blockchain to Fight Censors" by Keith Zhai and
Lulu Yilun Chen.
Adddress preset is 0x19AAA2dBAAEd1463764b113849f21Ee4d0aA0460. If you want to write in this board, send to preset address as data.
IMPORTANT: Data should encoded as hexadecimal and added in tx as data.| # | BlockNumber | Data (UTF-8) | Transaction index |
|---|


|
DCEL
Implementation of Double Connected Edge List
|
This program deals with building a DCEL data strutcure to store any type of planar graph given in the input.
How it works
A simple overview of the construction of DCEL:
Step 1: For each Edge, create two new HalfEdges, assign their twins and put them in corresponding source/tail vertex lists
Step 2: Sort all the HalfEdges present at each Vertex in clockwise order
Step 3: For Every pair of HalfEdges next to each other on a Vertex, assign their next and prev pointers
Step 4: Taking each HalfEdge, if its face points to nullptr, create new face and assign to all HalfEdges which can be obtained by traversing the next pointer. Set the represntative of Face object to any of theese halfedges and add this face to the list of Faces present in the DCEL
Steps to Compile and Run :
1) cd into the src directory
2) Run g++ main.cpp which generates an executable called a.out in the same directory
3) Run the executable using ./a.out (on linux)
3.1) The executable takes a dataset from command line argument. For example, to use an existing dataset, run ./a.out ../datasets/1sq.txt
3.2) If no command-line argument is given, it takes input from the shell directly (stdin)
Performance of the algorithm is documented in the report
Input is given as follows:
The algorithm is implemented and documented by Rikil Gajarla (2017A7PS0202H).


The_Night_Of
The Night Of is an eight-part limited series that delves into the intricate story of a fictitious murder case in New York City. The series follows the police investigation and legal proceedings, all the while examining the criminal justice system and the purgatory of Rikers Island, where the accused awaits his trial.Filmed in and around Manhattan, the HBO series is based on the BBC's Criminal Justice, created by Peter Moffat.


Jenkins uses this access key ID and secret access key to interface with Amazon EC2. If you have already signed up on EC2, you can obtain this from here. Otherwise, you need to sign up to Amazon Web Services to get one.
If no access key is set, implicit authentication mechanisms are used:
AWS_ACCESS_KEY_ID
and AWS_SECRET_ACCESS_KEY
(RECOMMENDED since they are recognized by all the AWS SDKs and CLI except for .NET),
or AWS_ACCESS_KEY
and AWS_SECRET_KEY
(only recognized by Java SDK)


CECIL B. DEMENTED (Artisan) Starring: Stephen Dorff, Melanie Griffith, Alicia Witt. Screenplay: John Waters. Producers: John Fiedler, Joe Caracciolo Jr. and Mark Tarlov. Director: John Waters. MPAA Rating: R (sexual situations, violence, profanity, adult themes) Running Time: 88 minutes. Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.
There is something so petulant and defensive about the tone of CECIL B. DEMENTED that it's almost enough to make you cry for John Waters. Once upon a time, he _was_ underground cinema. He made the movies he wanted to make, and damn the sensibilities of anyone else. But times have changed since Waters' early '70s heyday. Independent film-making came into its own, and while "mainstream" comedy has grown more gratuitously daring in recent years, Waters has drifted to the ideological center with campy-yet-tame movies like CRY-BABY, HAIRSPRAY and SERIAL MOM. In CECIL B. DEMENTED, Waters seems engaged in a desperate attempt to be recognized for his edge once again. He'd show us where his sympathies were; he'd give it to mainstream Hollywood big time.
This is what it has come to for the man who introduced coprophagy into the contemporary cinema: crafting a toothless, uninspired satire of Hollywood, and using Melanie Griffith to do it.  At the event, she's kidnapped by guerrilla director Cecil B. DeMented (Stephen Dorff), who has big plans for his big star. Along with his cast and crew of similarly dedicated underground cinema enthusiasts, DeMented plans to make a film about a frustrated art theater owner declaring war on the multiplexes and bloated studio films of America. It will be shot in actual theaters and movie sets, recording actual acts of anti-Hollywood terrorism. And Honey Whitlock is going to be the reluctant leading lady.
Subtlety has never exactly been John Waters' strongest suit as a film-maker, so it may be unfair to expect anything different from CECIL. Nevertheless, it's wearying to sit through a satire that takes such broad, trite shots at its target. Waters aims for guffaws from such predictable subjects as the cost of theater concessions, PATCH ADAMS: THE DIRECTOR'S CUT and unnecessary sequels, then gets even more insider by railing against fines for film set transgressions. Even when it seems like he's preparing to let loose with his gloriously bad taste -- a scene in a porn theater where onanistic patrons appear on the verge of defending Cecil and company from pursuers with a hail of bodily fluids -- Waters backs off to something silly and subdued. CECIL's 88 minute, non-stop assault on the obvious may not include a single honest belly laugh.
And the sad part is, there are a couple of decent ideas floating around here. Griffith's Honey isn't really a character -- Waters probably hasn't written a real character in his life -- but the charge she gets out of the underground cachet of working with Cecil could have made for some sharp jabs at other big-time actors who work on low-budget projects. Waters also comes up with an insightful line when Cecil notes that there's nowhere for renegade film-makers to go but to the extreme after Hollywood has co-opted sex and violence. In neither case does Waters take the idea anywhere interesting. Griffith's performance is high camp in the grand Waters tradition, but there's nothing funny or clever about the way her conversion to Cecil's way of thinking is handled. And for an ambush, pseudo-snuff production, Cecil's film itself doesn't demonstrate nearly enough creativity or outrage.
The way Waters approaches his protagonist and his dream project ultimately doom CECIL as much as its limp humor. It's certainly clear that Waters disdains the vapid product shoveled into American theaters, a sentiment in which he has plenty of company. But it also appears that he has no concern for whether or not Cecil's film is going to be any good; to Waters, the simple act of fighting the movie establishment power is enough to make him a hero. It may have been true 25 years ago that a film could be exhilarating just because its creator was daring and thrifty. Today, it helps if the film itself is more than an exercise in self-indulgence. CECIL B. DEMENTED finds John Waters insisting that his brand of underground film-making is still the way to go. The bitter irony is that he's made something just as disposable as PATCH ADAMS: THE DIRECTOR'S CUT.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 muddy Waters: 4.
Visit Scott Renshaw's Screening Room http://www.inconnect.com/~renshaw/ *** Subscribe to receive new reviews directly by email! See the Screening Room for details, or reply to this message with subject "Subscribe".
The review above was posted to the
rec.arts.movies.reviews newsgroup (de.rec.film.kritiken for German reviews).
The Internet Movie Database accepts no responsibility for the contents of the
review and has no editorial control. Unless stated otherwise, the copyright
belongs to the author.
Please direct comments/criticisms of the review to relevant newsgroups.
Broken URLs inthe reviews are the responsibility of the author.
The formatting of the review is likely to differ from the original due
to ASCII to HTML conversion.
Related links: index of all rec.arts.movies.reviews reviews


It all starts with one balloon full. That is all I need to feel the infinity effect. Every time I do it. It gets stronger. The effect of the time before it seems like a microscopic dot. It is nothing. With each experience, I see the bigger picture.
You will step back and see what you thought was the highest you had ever been is really nothing. And it will work like that for infinity. You can't begin to imagine what the next 'Bigger Picture' will look like. It will be a thousand of your thoughts all in one. The highest you have ever been will fold into just a fraction of your current experience. It almost scares me. You travel to a level of hundred for example. Then it's like that hundred is inside of another hundred hundred the next time you do it. One universe on top of another. You can see infinite feelings. And infinite worlds. You will only understand what I am saying when you see it. And when you do, you will get a feeling in your stomach like you have unlocked the answer to the meaning of life. Like you can see what infinity is.
But unfortunately, you will loose your insight on it as soon as the high is gone. Only when you get high again will it return. It is a realization. And you can realize it over and over again. You can never end it. And when you think you have. That one experience will take you a level you could not even imagine before. All the feelings are the different but they are the same. The are different because they are different infinities of themselves. Everything is in everything.  Nitrous oxide is not just a drug for a buzz. I believe it is the most powerful mind altering drug you can grasp.>
Try this --> write down what you are thinking while the high is at its peak. Make a sentence.  Then get high again and read it. You will know while you are high what it means and you will then understand it. But at the same time, you will know when you come down. You won't understand what you know at that moment. You can even try to add onto the sentence. Write a book. A book only someone high on nitrous oxide will understand.
And for anyone, who has had this experience, think about this. When you see the bigger picture.. the infinity of it all... how do you know... right now as you read this.. and as you live on earth... if it is just another stage of the infinity and you just have not gone down to the next level... and as of now... we can't even grasp what the next level could possible be....
Maybe I will see you in the infinity....
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.


Powerful custom reactions
Aeiou provides a template system that lets you use placeholders in message triggers. For example, you could set it up to automatically create wonderful dad jokes:
The system supports both partial matches (you could set up a reaction that goes "sus" when someone mentions "among us") and full-message matching (so it'd for example only reply "General kenobi" to exactly "Hello there!").


Genre: Science fiction
More Info
Genre: Science Fiction
Genre: Adventure Fiction, Science Fiction
Genre: Childrens, Family Books
Genre: Fantasy
Genre: Fantasy novel
Genre: Fantasy, Fiction
Genre: Speculative fiction


Cycling to link heritage sites and structures
Plan to build a cycle way connecting Muziris project spots
by Special CorrespondentAs part of building a cycle way connecting cultural monuments and museums of the Muziris project, a cycle rally was taken out from Kottappuram to Alappuzha on Saturday.
V.R. Sunil Kumar, MLA, flagged off the cycle rally from Kottappuram. Around 100 cyclists led by Crankannoor Pedalers and Muziris Cycle Club took the expedition to Alappuzha.
Seventy eight-year-old Jose Lenin, who participated in the Paris Cycling competition; Shajahan from the Police department; IT professional Santhith Thandanassery; Arun Koushik from Tamil Nadu; and Badminton player Najumuddin; were among the cyclists.
Coastal route
The rally was taken out the coastal route though Fort Kochi and Arthungal. Thrissur on a cycle, Mala Bikers Club, Thriprayar Beach Riders, Chavakkad Cycle Club, Kunnamkulam Pedal Club, Irinjalakuda Cycling Club, Alleppey Bikers Club, Paravur Bikers Club, Irinjalakuda Sporting Club too joined the rally.
The function at Kottappuram honoured A.K. Babu, N.A. Sunil Ram and C.S. Saji, who rescued three persons from drowning.
The rally was also to create awareness among people about the importance of protecting heritage monuments.


{% set playbook_count = playbook.hosts | fast_count -%} {% set play_count = playbook.plays | fast_count -%} {% set file_count = playbook.files | fast_count -%} {% set task_count = playbook.tasks | fast_count -%} {% set record_count = playbook.data | fast_count -%} {% set stats_count = playbook.stats | fast_count -%}


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Returns a variable with a random value (number) between minimum and maximum possible value.
This is a basic command you can use for showing random images, playing random videos/sounds, picking a random viewer from chat etc.
If you wish to have more power over randomizing values (like adding weights), it is best to use Stacks instead.
| Box Name | Type | Description |
|---|---|---|
| Variable | String | Name of the variable to save the random value. |
| Min | Real (number) | Minimum value possible. |
| Max | Real (number) | Maximum value possible. |
| Float | boolean | True = random value returned can never be the maximum or minimum value itself False = random value returned can be anything including maximum and minimum possible value Any float value in minimum or maximum value is omitted if Float is set to False. |


A Minneapolis animal shelter is empty
Just in time for the holidays
by CNN Staff(CNN) - A Minneapolis animal shelter has adopted out all its pets in time for the holidays.
The Minneapolis Animal Care and Control center held the "Clear the Shelter" event Friday, which waives the fee to adopt a cat or dog. By the end of the day, the shelter was empty.
"The shelter is clear! Dozens of dogs, cats and small critters found new homes today. Thanks to our staff, volunteers and adopters for making it happen," the City of Minneapolis Government posted on social media. The post also included a photo from the shelter's door informing visitors that no animals were available.
The adoptions were on a first-come, first-served basis. If there were multiple adopters for the same animal, a drawing was held to determine who got to adopt it, the shelter said.
"Arriving before the shelter opens does not count as being first," it said.
It's unclear how many animals were adopted.


Computer name, label name, or any other label expression like linux && 64bit
to restrict where this step builds.
May be left blank, in which case any available executor is taken.
Supported operators
The following operators are supported, in descending order of precedence:
- (expression)
-
parentheses — used to explicitly define the associativity of an expression
- !expression
-
NOT — negation; the result of expression must not be true
- a && b
-
AND — both of the expressions a and b must be
true
- a || b
-
OR — either of the expressions a or b may be
true
- a -> b
-
"implies" operator — equivalent to !a || b.
For example, windows -> x64 could be thought of as "if a Windows
agent is used, then that agent must be 64-bit", while still
allowing this block to be executed on any agents that do not have
the windows label, regardless of whether they have also have an
x64 label
- a <-> b
-
"if and only if" operator — equivalent to a && b ||
!a && !b
For example, windows <-> dc2 could be thought of as "if a
Windows agent is used, then that agent must be in datacenter 2, but
if a non-Windows agent is used, then it must not be in datacenter
2"
Notes
-
All operators are left-associative, i.e. a -> b -> c is
equivalent to (a -> b) -> c.
-
Labels or agent names can be surrounded with quotation marks if they
contain characters that would conflict with the operator syntax.
For example, "osx (10.11)" || "Windows Server".
-
Expressions can be written without whitespace, but including it is
recommended for readability; Jenkins will ignore whitespace when
evaluating expressions.
-
Matching labels or agent names with wildcards or regular expressions is
not supported.
-
An empty expression will always evaluate to true, matching all
agents.
Examples
- master
- This block may be executed only on the Jenkins built-in node
-
- linux-machine-42
-
This block may be executed only on the agent with the name
linux-machine-42 (or on any machine that happens to have a label
called linux-machine-42)
- windows && jdk9
-
This block may be executed only on any Windows agent that has
version 9 of the Java Development Kit installed (assuming that agents
with JDK 9 installed have been given a jdk9 label)
- postgres && !vm && (linux || freebsd)
-
This block may be executed only any on Linux or FreeBSD agent,
so long as they are not a virtual machine, and they have PostgreSQL
installed (assuming that each agent has the appropriate labels — in
particular, each agent running in a virtual machine must have the
vm label in order for this example to work as expected)


{% extends "home/base.html" %} {% load static %} {% block content %}
If you are looking for quality product, homelike servicing for your beloved car then you are at the right place. Wait a second you will love to know that you can also refill your car gas from us with a convenient amount of money.


About
Our glorious founder Pat (pictured above with his family) opened his first cookie stand in Seattle's legendary Pike Place Market, on Pike and 1st in downtown Seattle. We started out as a small business with a big idea: "What if we married two Seattle classics?" The robust flavor of Salmon and the perfect pastry companion for a cup of gourmet Seattle joe... and a legend was born. Our secret method grinds real wild salmon fish so finely, that it can't even be tasted. And it is the perfect treat when you are enjoying a cup of Seattle coffee! Our vision spread like fire and caught the imagination of locals and tourists alike. Now with over 4 locations (we have 5) in the Seattle area, make sure you stop by and see what all the ruckus is about!