Syntax:
array-has-fill-pointer-p array => generalized-boolean
Arguments and Values:
array---an array.
generalized-boolean---a generalized boolean.
Description:
Returns true if array has a fill pointer; otherwise returns false.
Examples:
(array-has-fill-pointer-p (make-array 4)) => implementation-dependent (array-has-fill-pointer-p (make-array '(2 3))) => false (array-has-fill-pointer-p (make-array 8 :fill-pointer 2 :initial-element 'filler)) => true
Affected By: None.
Exceptional Situations:
Should signal an error of type type-error if its argument is not an array.
See Also:
Notes:
Since arrays of rank other than one cannot have a fill pointer, array-has-fill-pointer-p always returns nil when its argument is such an array.


Political timeline
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Another serving man nearly fell on his nose bowing, and Elayne sighed as she glided past along the Palace corridor. At least, she tried to glide. The Daughter-Heir of Andor, stately and serene. She wanted to run, though her dark blue skirts probably would have tripped her had she tried. She could almost feel the stout man’s goggling eyes following her and her companions. A minor irritant, and one that would pass; a grain of sand in her slipper.  If he managed to get away from her this time . . . !
“Just remember,” she said firmly. “He hears nothing about spies, or forkroot, or any of that!” The very last thing she needed was him deciding to “rescue” her. Men did that sort of nonsense; Nynaeve called it “thinking with the hair on their chests.” Light, he would probably try to move the Aiel and the Saldaeans back into the city! Into the Palace itself! Bitter as it was to admit, she could not stop him if he did, not short of open war, and even that might not be enough.
“I don’t tell him things he doesn’t need to know,” Min said, frowning at a lanky, wide-eyed serving woman whose curtsy nearly collapsed into a sprawl on the red-brown floor tiles. Eyeing Min sideways, Elayne remembered her own time wearing breeches, and wondered whether she might not try again. They were certainly freer than skirts. Not the heeled boots, though, she decided judiciously. They made Min almost as tall as Aviendha, but even Birgitte swayed in those, and with Min’s snug breeches and a coat that barely covered her hips, it looked positively scandalous.
“You lie to him?” Suspicion larded Aviendha’s tone. Even the way she adjusted her dark shawl on her shoulders carried disapproval, and she glared past Elayne at Min.
“Of course not,” Min replied sharply, glaring right back. “Not unless it’s necessary.” Aviendha chuckled, then looked startled that she had, and put on a stony face.
What was she to do about them? They had to like one another. They just had to. But the two women had been staring at each other like strange cats in a small room every since they met. Oh, they had agreed to everything—there really had been no choice, not when none of them could guess when they would all have the man at hand again—but she hoped they did not show one another again how skillfully they handled their knives. Very casually, not actually implying any threat, but very open about it, too. On the other hand, Aviendha had been quite impressed with the number of knives Min carried about her person.
A gangly young serving man carrying a tray of tall mantles for the stand lamps bowed as she swept by. Unfortunately, he was staring so hard that he forgot to pay attention to his burden. The crash of glass shattering on the floor tiles filled the corridor.
Elayne sighed again. She did hope everyone became used to the new order of things soon. She was not the object of all that gaping, of course, or Aviendha, or even Min, though she probably drew some. No, it was Caseille and Deni, following close behind, who were making eyes pop and servants stumble. She had eight bodyguards, now, and those two had been standing guard at her door when she woke.
Very likely some of the gaping was just that Elayne had Guardswomen trailing behind her at all, and almost certainly that they were women. No one was used to that, yet. But Birgitte had said she would make them appear ceremonial, and she had. She must have set every seamstress and milliner in the Palace working as soon as she left Elayne’s rooms the night before. Each woman wore a bright red hat with a long white plume lying flat along the wide brim, and a wide red sash edged in snowy lace across her chest with rampant White Lions marching up it. Their white-collared crimson coats were silk, and the cut had been altered a little, so they fit better and hung almost to the knee above scarlet breeches with a white stripe up the outsides of the legs. Pale lace hung thickly at their wrists and necks, and their black boots had been waxed till they shone. They looked quite dashing, and even placid-eyed Deni swaggered just a little. Elayne suspected they would be even prouder once the sword belts and scabbards with gold tooling were ready, and the lacquered helmets and breastplates. Birgitte was having breastplates made to fit women, which Elayne suspected had certainly made the Palace armorer’s eyes pop!
At the moment, Birgitte was busy interviewing women to round out the twenty for the bodyguard. Elayne could feel her concentrating, with no sign of physical activity, so it must be that, unless she was reading, or playing stones, and she seldom took a moment away from her duties for herself. Elayne hoped she would keep it to just twenty. She hoped Birgitte was busy enough that she did not notice until too late when she masked the bond. To think that she had been so worried about Birgitte sensing what she did not want her to when the solution lay in a simple question to Vandene. The answer had been a rueful reminder how little she actually knew about being Aes Sedai, especially the parts other sisters took for granted. Apparently, every sister who had a Warder knew how, even those who remained celibate.
It was odd how things came about, sometimes. If not for the bodyguards, if not for wondering how she could manage to elude them and Birgitte, she would never have thought to ask, would never have learned the masking in time for this. Not that she planned to elude her guards any time soon, but it was best to be prepared in advance of need. Birgitte certainly was not going to allow her and Aviendha to wander the city alone, day or night, not any longer.
Their arrival at Nynaeve’s door put thoughts of Birgitte completely out of her head. Except that she must not mask the bond until the very last instant. Rand was on the other side of that door. Rand who sometimes crowded her thoughts until she wondered whether she was like some fool woman in a story who threw her head over the wall because of a man. She had always thought those stories must have been written by men. Only, Rand sometimes did make her feel witless. At least he did not realize it, thank the Light.
“Wait out here, and admit no one,” she commanded the Guardswomen. She could not afford interruptions or attention now. With luck, her bodyguard was new enough that no one would even recognize what their fine uniforms meant. “I will only be a few minutes.”
They saluted briskly, an arm across the chest, and took positions on either side of the door, Caseille stone-faced with a hand on her sword hilt, Deni taking her long cudgel in both hands and smiling faintly. Elayne was sure the stocky woman thought Min had brought her here to meet a secret lover. She suspected Caseille might, as well. They had hardly been as discreet in front of the two women as they might have; no one had mentioned his name, but there had more than enough of “he this” and “he that.” At least neither had tried making an excuse to leave so she could report to Birgitte. If they were her bodyguard, then they were her bodyguard, not Birgitte’s. Except that they would not keep Birgitte out if she masked the bond too soon.
And she was dithering, she realized. The man she dreamed of every night was on the other side of that door, and she was standing there like a witling. She had waited so long, wanted so much, and now she was almost afraid. She would not let this go wrong. With an effort, she gathered herself.
“Are you ready?” Her voice was not as strong as she could have hoped, but at least it did not tremble. Butterflies the size of foxes fluttered in her stomach. That had not happened in a long time.
“Of course,” Aviendha said, but she had to swallow first.
“I’m ready,” Min said faintly.
They went in without knocking, hurriedly closing the door behind them.
Nynaeve jumped to her feet, wide-eyed, before they were well into the sitting room, but Elayne barely noticed her or Lan, though the sweet smell of the Warder’s pipe filled the room. Rand really was there; it had been hard to believe he would be. That dreadful disguise Min had described was gone, except for the shabby clothing and rough gloves, and he was . . . beautiful.
He leaped from his chair at the sight of her, too, but before he was completely upright, he staggered and grabbed the table with both hands, gagging and heaving with dry retches. Elayne embraced the Source and took a step toward him, then stopped and made herself let go of the Power. Her ability with Healing was tiny, and anyway, Nynaeve had moved as quickly as she, the shine of saidar suddenly around her, hands raised toward Rand.
He recoiled, waving her away. “It’s nothing you can Heal, Nynaeve,” he said roughly. “In any case, it seems you win the argument.” His face was a rigid mask hiding emotion, but his eyes seemed to Elayne to be drinking her in. And Aviendha as well. She was surprised to feel gladdened by that. She had hoped it would be that way, hoped she could manage for her sister’s sake, and now it took no managing at all. Straightening up was a visible effort for him, and pulling his gaze away from her and Aviendha, though he tried to hide both. “It is past time to be gone, Min,” he said.
Elayne’s jaw dropped. “You think you can just go without even speaking to me, to us?” she managed.
“Men!” Min and Aviendha breathed at almost the same instant, and gave one another startled looks. Hastily they unfolded their arms. For an instant, despite the disparity in just about everything about them, they had been almost mirror images of womanly disgust.
“The men who tried to kill me in Cairhien would turn this palace into a slag heap if they knew I was here,” Rand said quietly. “Maybe if they just suspected. I suppose Min told you it was Asha’man. Don’t trust any of them. Except for three, maybe. Damer Flinn, Jahar Narishma and Eben Hopwil. You may be able to trust them. For the rest . . . ” He clenched gauntleted fists at his sides, seemingly unaware. “Sometimes a sword turns in your hand, but I still need a sword. Just stay away from any man in a black coat. Look, there’s no time for talking. It’s best I go quickly.” She had been wrong. He was not exactly as she had dreamed of him. There had been a boyishness about him sometimes, but it was gone as if burned away. She mourned that for him. She did not think he did, or could.
“He is right in one thing,” Lan said around his pipestem with the same sort of quiet. Another man who seemed never to have been a boy. His eyes were blue ice beneath the braided leather cord that encircled his brows. “Anyone near him is in great danger. Anyone.” For some reason, Nynaeve snorted. Then put her hand on a leather scrip with hard bulges lying on the table and smiled. Though after a moment her smile faltered.
“Do my first-sister and I fear danger?” Aviendha demanded, planting her fists on her hips. Her shawl slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor, but she was so intent that she seemed unaware of the loss. “This man has toh to us, Aan’allein, and we to him. It must be worked out.”
Min spread her hands. “I don’t know what anybody’s toes have to do with anything, or feet either, but I’m not going anywhere until you talk to them, Rand!” She affected not to notice Aviendha’s outraged glare.
Sighing, Rand leaned against a corner of the table and raked gloved fingers through the dark, reddish curls that hung to his neck. He seemed to be arguing with himself under his breath.
“I’m sorry you ended up with the sul’dam and damane,” he said finally. He did sound sorry, but not very; he might have been regretting the cold. “Taim was supposed to deliver them to the sisters I thought were with you. But I suppose anyone can make a mistake like that. Maybe he thought all those Wisdoms and Wise Women Nynaeve has gathered were Aes Sedai.” His smile was quiet. It did not touch his eyes.
“Rand,” Min said in a low, warning tone.
He had the nerve to look at her questioningly, as if he did not understand. And he went right on. “Anyway, you seem to have enough of them to hold on to a handful of women until you can turn them over to the . . . the other sisters, the ones with Egwene. Things never turn out quite the way you expect, do they? Who would have thought a few sisters running away from Elaida would grow into a rebellion against the White Tower? With Egwene as Amyrlin! And the Band of the Red Hand for her army. I suppose Mat can stay there awhile.” For some reason he blinked and touched his forehead, then went on in that irritatingly casual tone. “Well. A strange turn of events all around. At this rate, I won’t be surprised if my friends in the Tower work up enough courage to come out in the open.”
Arching an eyebrow, Elayne glanced at Nynaeve. Wisdoms and Wise Women? The Band was Egwene’s army, and Mat was with it? Nynaeve’s attempt at wide-eyed innocence made her look like guilt nailed to a door. Elayne supposed it did not matter. He would learn the truth soon enough, if he could be talked into going to Egwene. In any case, she had more important matters to take up with him. The man was babbling, however offhand he managed to sound, tossing out anything they might snap at in hopes of diverting them.
“It won’t do, Rand.” Elayne tightened her hands on her skirts to keep herself from shaking a finger at him. Or a fist; she was not sure which it would be. The other sisters? The real Aes Sedai, he had been about to say.  And his friends in the Tower! Could he still believe Alviarin’s strange letter? Her voice was cool and firm and steady, brooking no nonsense. “None of that matters a hair, not now. You and Aviendha and Min and I are what we need to talk about. And we will. We all will, Rand al’Thor, and you are not leaving the Palace until we do!”
For the longest time, he simply looked at her, his expression never changing. Then he inhaled audibly, and his face turned to granite. “I love you, Elayne.” Without a pause, he went on, words rushing out of him, water from a burst dam.  “I love you, Aviendha. I love you, Min. And not one a whisker more or less than the other two.  So there you have it. I’m a lecher. Now you can walk away and not look back. It’s madness, anyway. I can’t afford to love anybody!”
“Rand al’Thor,” Nynaeve shrieked, “that is the most outrageous thing I ever heard out of your mouth! The very idea of telling three women you love them! You’re worse than a lecher! You apologize right now!” Lan had snatched his pipe from his mouth and was staring at Rand.
“I love you, Rand,” Elayne said simply, “and although you haven’t asked, I want to marry you.” She blushed faintly, but she intended to be much more forward before very long, so she supposed this hardly counted. Nynaeve’s mouth worked, but no sound came out.
“My heart is in your hands, Rand,” Aviendha said, treating his name like something rare and precious. “If you make a bridal wreath for my first-sister and me, I will pick it up.” And she blushed, too, trying to cover it in bending to take her shawl from the floor and arranging it on her arms. By Aiel customs, she should never had said any of that. Nynaeve finally got a sound out. A squeak.
“If you don’t know by this time that I love you,” Min said, “then you’re blind, deaf and dead!” She certainly did not blush; there was a mischievous light in her dark eyes, and she seemed ready to laugh. “And as for marriage, well, we’ll work that out between the three of us, so there!” Nynaeve took a grip on her braid with both hands and gave it a steady pull, breathing heavily through her nose. Lan had begun an intense study of the contents of his pipe’s bowl.
Rand examined the three of them as if he had never seen a woman before and wondered what they were. “You’re all mad,” he said finally. “I’d marry any of you—all of you, the Light help me!—but it can’t be, and you know it.” Nynaeve collapsed into a chair, shaking her head. She muttered to herself, though all Elayne could understand was something about the Women’s Circle swallowing their tongues.
“There is something else we need to discuss,” Elayne said. Light, Min and Aviendha could have been looking at a pastry!  “In my rooms, I think. There’s no need to bother Nynaeve and Lan.” Or rather, she was afraid that Nynaeve would try to stop them, if she heard. The woman was very quick to use her authority when it came to Aes Sedai matters.
“Yes,” Rand said slowly. And then, strangely, added, “I said you’d won, Nynaeve. I won’t leave without seeing you again.”
“Oh!” Nynaeve gave a start. “Yes. Of course not. I watched him grow up,” she blathered, turning a sickly smile on Elayne. “Almost from the start. Watched his first steps. He can’t go without a good long talk with me.”
Elayne eyed her suspiciously. Light, she sounded for all the world like an aged nurse. Though Lini had never babbled. She hoped Lini was alive and well, but she was very much afraid that neither was true. Why was Nynaeve carrying on in this fashion? The woman was up to something, and if she was not going to use her standing to carry it off, it was something even she knew was wrong.
Suddenly, Rand seemed to waver, as though the air around him were shimmering with heat, and everything else flew out of Elayne’s head. In an instant, he was . . . someone else, shorter and thicker, coarse and brutish. And so repulsive to look at that she did not even consider the fact that he was using the male half of the Power.  He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed, hands gripping the arms of his chair, as if he could not stand to see them look at him.
“You are still beautiful, Rand,” she said gently.
“Ha!” Min said. “That face would make a goat faint!” Well, it would, but she should not have said so.
Aviendha laughed. “You have a sense of humor, Min Farshaw. That face would make a herd of goats faint.” Oh, Light, it would! Elayne swallowed a giggle just in time.
“I am who I am,” Rand said, pushing himself up out of the chair. “You just won’t see it.”
At Deni’s first sight of Rand in his disguise, the smile slid crookedly off the stocky woman’s face. Caseille’s mouth dropped open. So much for thoughts of secret lovers, Elayne thought, laughing to herself in amusement. She was sure he drew as many stares as the Guardswomen, shambling along between them with a sullen scowl. Certainly no one could suspect who he was. The servants in the corridors probably thought he had been apprehended in some crime. He certainly had the look. Caseille and Deni kept a hard eye on him as if they thought so, too.
The Guardswomen came near to arguing when they realized she intended them to wait outside her apartments while the three of them took him inside. Suddenly, Rand’s disguise did not seem amusing at all any longer. Caseille’s mouth thinned, and Deni’s wide face set in stubborn displeasure. Elayne almost had to wave her Great Serpent ring beneath their noses before they took positions beside her door, scowling.  Light, the man could have chosen something a little less unsavory for his disguise.
And as for him, he went straight to the inlaid table, leaning against it while the air around him shimmered and he became himself once more. The Dragon’s heads on the backs of his hands glittered metallically, scarlet and gold. “I need a drink,” he muttered thickly, catching sight of the tall-necked silver pitcher on the long side-table against the wall.
Still not looking at her or Min or Aviendha, he walked over unsteadily and filled a silver winecup that he half-drained in one long swallow. That sweet spicy wine had been left when her breakfast was taken away. It must be cold as ice by now. She had not been expected to return to her rooms so soon, and the fire on the hearth had been banked down beneath ashes. But he made no move she could see to warm the wine by channeling. She would have seen steam, at least. And why had he walked to the wine, instead of channeling to bring it to him? That was the sort of thing he always did, floating winecups and lamps about on flows of Air.
“Are you well, Rand?” Elayne asked.  Her stomach tightened at the thought of what sickness it might be, with him. “Nynaeve can—”
“I am as fine as I can be,” he said flatly. Still with his back to them. Emptying the cup, he began to fill it again.
Elayne’s eyebrows shot up, and she exchanged looks with Aviendha and Min. If he had seen through her subterfuge, Nynaeve certainly had. Why had she let them go? And how had he seen through it? Aviendha shook her head slightly in wonder. Min shook hers, too, but with a grin that said you just had to expect this sort of thing now and then. Elayne felt the smallest stab of—not quite jealousy; jealousy was out of the question, for them—just irritation that Min had had so much time with him and she had not. Well, if he wanted to play surprises . . .
“We want to bond you our Warder,” she said, smoothing her dress under her as she took a chair. Min sat on the edge of the table, legs dangling, and Aviendha settled onto the carpet cross-legged, carefully spreading out her heavy woolen skirts. “All three of us. It is customary to ask, first.”
He spun around, wine sloshing out of his cup, more pouring from the pitcher before he could bring it upright. With a muttered oath, he hastily stepped out of the spreading wetness on the carpet and put the pitcher back on the tray.  Very satisfactory.
“You really are mad,” he growled. “You know what’s ahead of me. You know what it means for anyone I’m bonded to. Even if I don’t go insane, she has to live through me dying! And what do you mean, all three of you? Min can’t channel. Anyway, Alanna Mosvani got there ahead of you, and she didn’t bother asking. She and Verin were taking some Two Rivers girls to the White Tower.  Min demanded. “If I’d known—!” She deftly produced a slim knife from her sleeve, then glared at it and glumly put it back. That cure would have been as hard on Rand as on Alanna.
“This was against custom,” Aviendha said, half questioning. She shifted on the carpet and fingered her belt knife.
“Very much so,” Elayne replied grimly. That a sister would do that to any man was disgusting. That Alanna had done it to Rand . . . ! She remembered the dark, fiery Green with her quicksilver humor and her quicksilver temper. “Alanna has more toh to him than she could repay in a lifetime! And to us. Even if she doesn’t, she will wish I had just killed her after I lay hands on her!”
“After we lay hands on her,” Aviendha said, nodding for emphasis.
“So.” Rand peered into his wine. “You can see there’s no point in this. I . . . I think I’d better go back to Nynaeve, now. Are you coming, Min?” Despite what they had told him, he sounded as though he did not really believe, as if Min might abandon him now. He did not sound afraid of it, only resigned.
“There is a point,” Elayne said insistently. She leaned toward him, trying by the force of her will to make him accept what she was saying. “One bond doesn’t ward you against another. Sisters don’t bond the same man because of custom, Rand, because they don’t want to share him, not because it can’t be done. And it isn’t against Tower law, either.” Of course, some customs were strong as law, at least in the eyes of the sisters. Nynaeve seemed to go on more every day about upholding Aes Sedai customs and dignity. When she learned of this, she would probably explode right through the roof. “Well, we do want to share you! We will share you, if you agree.”
How easy it was to say that! She had been sure she could not, once. Until she came to realize that she loved Aviendha as much as she did him, just in a different way. And Min, too; another sister, even if they had not adopted one another. She would stripe Alanna from top to bottom for touching him, given the chance, but Aviendha and Min were different. They were part of her. In a way, they were her, and she them.
She softened her tone. “I am asking, Rand. We are asking. Please let us bond you.”
“Min,” he murmured, almost accusingly. His eyes on Min’s face were rilled with despair. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew if I laid eyes on them . . . ” He shook his head, unable or unwilling to go on.
“I didn’t know about the bonding until they told me less than an hour ago,” she said, meeting his gaze with the most gentle look Elayne had ever seen. “But I knew, I hoped, what would happen if you saw them again. Some things have to be, Rand. They have to be.”
Rand stared into the winecup, moments seeming to stretch like hours, and at last set it back on the tray. “All right,” he said quietly. “I can’t say I do not want this, because I do. The Light burn me for it! But think of the cost. Think of the price you’ll pay.”
Elayne did not need to think of the price. She had known it from the beginning, had discussed it with Aviendha to make sure she understand, too. She had explained it to Min. Take what you want, and pay for it, the old saying went. None of them had to think about the price; they knew, and they were willing to pay. There was no time to waste, though. Even now, she did not put it past him to decide that price was too high. As if that were his decision to make!
Opening herself to saidar, she linked with Aviendha, sharing a smile with her. The increased awareness of one another, the more intimate sharing of emotions and physical feelings, was always a pleasure with her sister. It was very much like what they would soon share with Rand. She had worked this out carefully, studied it from every angle. What she had been able to learn of the Aiel adoption weaves had been a great help. That ceremony had been when the idea first came to her.
Carefully she wove Spirit, a flow of over a hundred threads, every thread placed just so, and laid the weave on Aviendha sitting on the floor, then did the same to Min on the table’s edge. In a way, they were not two separate weaves at all. They glowed with a precise similarity, and it seemed that looking at one, she saw the other as well. These were not the weaves used in the adoption ceremony, but they used the same principles. They included; what happened to one meshed in that weave, happened to all in it. As soon as the weaves were in place, she passed the lead of the circle of two to Aviendha. The weaves already made remained, and Aviendha immediately wove identical weaves around Elayne, and around Min again, blending that one until it was indistinguishable from Elayne’s before passing control back. They did that very easily now, after a great deal of practice. Four weaves, or rather, three now, yet they all seemed the same weave.
Everything was ready. Aviendha was a rock of confidence as strong as anything Elayne had ever felt from Birgitte. Min sat gripping the edge of the table, her ankles locked together; she could not see the flows, but she gave an assured grin that was only spoiled a little when she licked her lips. Elayne breathed deeply. To her eyes, they three were surrounded and connected by a tracery of Spirit that made the finest lace seem drab. Now if only it worked as she believed it would.
From each of them, she extended the weave in narrow lines toward Rand, twisting the three lines into one, changing it into the Warder bond. That, she laid on Rand as softly as if she were laying a blanket on a baby. The spiderweb of Spirit settled around him, settled into him. He did not even blink, but it was done. She let go of saidar. Done.
He stared at them, expressionless, and slowly put his fingers to his temples.
“Oh, Light, Rand, the pain,” Min murmured in a hurt voice. “I never knew; I never imagined. How can you stand it?  Those herons on your hands; you can still feel the branding. Those things on your arms hurt! And your side. Oh, Light, your side! Why aren’t you crying, Rand? Why aren’t you crying?”
“He is the Car’a’carn,” Aviendha said, laughing, “as strong as the Three-fold Land itself!” Her face was proud—oh, so proud—but even as she laughed, tears streamed down her sun-dark cheeks. “The veins of gold. Oh, the veins of gold. You do love me, Rand.”
 The pain of wounds and hurts he really had forgotten. The tension and disbelief; the wonder. His emotions were too rigid, though, like a knot of hardened pine sap, almost stone. Yet laced through them, golden veins pulsed and glowed whenever he looked at Min, or Aviendha. Or her. He did love her. He loved all three of them. And that made her want to laugh with joy. Other women might find doubts, but she would always know the truth of his love.
“The Light send you know what you’ve done,” he said in a low voice. “The Light send you aren’t . . . ” The pine sap grew a trifle harder. He was sure they would be hurt, and was already steeling himself. “I . . . I have to go, now. At least I’ll know you are all well now; I won’t have to worry about you.” Suddenly he grinned; he might have looked almost boyish if it had reached his eyes. “Nynaeve will be frantic thinking I’ve slipped away without seeing her. Not that she doesn’t deserve a little flustering.”
“There is one more thing, Rand,” Elayne said, and stopped to swallow. Light, she had thought this would be the easy part.
“I suppose Aviendha and I have to talk while we can,” Min said hurriedly, springing off the table. “Somewhere we can be alone. If you’ll excuse us?”
Aviendha rose from the carpet gracefully, smoothing her skirts. “Yes. Min Farshaw and I must learn about one another.” She eyed Min doubtfully, adjusting her shawl, but they left arm in arm.
Rand watched them warily, as if he knew their leaving had been planned. A cornered wolf. But those veins of gold gleamed in her head.
“There is something they have had from you that I haven’t,” Elayne began, and choked, a flush scalding her face. Blood and ashes! How did other women go about this? Carefully she considered the bundle of sensations in her head that was him, and the bundle that was Birgitte. There was still no change in the second. She imagined wrapping it in a kerchief, knotting the kerchief snugly, and Birgitte was gone. There was only Rand. And those shining golden veins. Butterflies the size of wolfhounds drummed their wings in her middle. Swallowing hard, she took a long breath. “You will have to help me with my buttons,” she said unsteadily. “I cannot take this dress off by myself.”
The two Guardswomen stirred when Min came into the corridor with the Aiel woman, and jerked erect when they realized, as Min closed the door, that no one else was coming out.
“Her taste can’t be that bad,” the blocky, sleepy-eyed one muttered under her breath, hands tightening on her long cudgel. Min did not think anyone had been meant to hear.
“Too much courage, and too much innocence,” the lean, mannish one growled. “The Captain-General warned us about that.” She put a gauntleted hand on the lion-headed doorlatch.
 “Have you ever seen her in a temper? She could make a bear weep!”
Aviendha disengaged her arm from Min’s and put a little distance between them. It was the Guardswomen who received her scowl, though. “You doubt my sister can handle a single man? She is Aes Sedai, and has the heart of a lion. And you are oath-sworn to follow her! You follow where she leads, not put your noses up her sleeve.”
The Guardswomen exchanged a long look. The heavier woman shrugged. The wiry one grimaced, but she took her hand from the doorlatch. “I’m oath-sworn to keep that girl alive,” she said in a hard voice, “and I mean to. Now you children go play with your dolls and let me do my job.”
Min considered producing a knife and performing one of the flashy finger-rolls Thom Merrilin had taught her. Just to show them who was a child. The lean woman was not young, but there was no gray in her hair, and she looked quite strong. And quick. Min wanted to believe some of the other woman’s bulk was fat, but she did not. She could not see any images or auras around either, but neither looked in the least afraid to do whatever she thought needed doing. Well, at least they were leaving Elayne and Rand alone. Maybe the knife was unnecessary.
From the corner of her eye she caught sight of the Aiel reluctantly letting a hand fall from her belt knife. If the woman did not stop mirroring her this way, she was going to start thinking there was more to this jiggery-pokery with the Power than she had been told. Then again, it had begun before the jiggery-pokery. Maybe they just thought alike. A disturbing idea. Light, all this talk about him marrying all three of them was very well for talk, but which one was he really going to marry?
“Elayne is brave,” she told the Guards, “as brave as anybody I’ve ever met.  If you start off thinking she is, you’ll soon go wrong with her.” They stared down at her from the vantage of an added fifteen or twenty years, solid, unperturbed and determined. In a moment they would tell her to run along, again. “Well, we can’t stand around here if we’re going to talk, can we, Aviendha?”
“No,” the Aiel woman breathed in a tight voice, glaring at the Guardswomen. “We cannot stand here.”
The Guardswomen took no notice of their going at all. They had a job to do, and it had nothing to with watching Elayne’s friends. Min hoped they did their job well.  She just lets her courage lead the way, sometimes. She hoped they would not let Elayne scramble into brambles she could not get out of.
Walking along the hallway, she eyed the Aiel woman sideways. Aviendha strode along as far from her as she could be and still remain in the same corridor. Not even glancing in Min’s direction, she pulled a thickly carved ivory bracelet from her belt pouch and slipped it over her left wrist with a small, satisfied smile. She had had a fly on her nose from the first, and Min did not understand why. Aiel were supposed to be used to women sharing a man. A far cry more than she could say for herself. She just loved him so badly she was willing to share, and if she must, then there was no one in the world she would rather share with than Elayne. With her, it almost wasn’t like sharing at all. This Aiel woman was a stranger, though. Elayne had said it was important they get to know one another, but how could they it the woman would not talk to her?
She did not spend much time worrying about Elayne, though, or Aviendha. What lay in her head was too wondrous. Rand. A little ball that told her everything about him. She had been sure the whole thing would fail, for her at least. What would making love with him be like after this, when she knew everything! Light! Of course, he would know everything about her, too. She was definitely uncertain how she felt about that!
Abruptly she realized that the bundle of emotions and sensations was no longer the same as at first. There was a . . . red roaring . . . to it, now, like wildfire raging through a tinder dry forest. What could . . . ? Light! She stumbled, and just caught her footing short of tumbling. If she had known this furnace, this fierce hunger, was inside him, she would have been afraid to let him touch her! On the other hand . . . It might be nice, knowing she had sparked such an inferno. She could not wait to see whether she produced the same effect as . . . She stumbled again, and this time had to catch herself on an ornately carved highchest. Oh, Light! Elayne!  This was like peeking through the bedcurtains!
Hurriedly she tried the trick Elayne had told her about, imaging that ball of emotions tied up in a kerchief. Nothing happened. Frantically she tried again, but the raging fire was still there! She had to stop looking at it, stop feeling it. Anything to get her attention anywhere but there! Anything! Maybe if she started talking.
“She should have drunk that heartleaf tea,” she babbled. She never told what she saw except to those involved, and only then if they wanted to hear, but she had to say something. “She’ll get with child from this. Two of them; a boy and a girl; both healthy and strong.”
“She wants his babies,” the Aiel woman mumbled. Her green eyes stared straight ahead; her jaw was tight, and sweat beaded on her forehead. “I will not drink the tea myself if I—” Giving herself a shake, she frowned across the width of the hall at Min. “My sister and the Wise Ones told me about you. You really see things about people that come true?”
“Sometimes I see things, and if I know what they mean, they happen,” Min said. Their voices, raised to reach each other, carried along the corridor. Red-and-white-liveried servants turned to stare at them. Min moved to the center of the hallway. She would meet the other woman halfway, no more. After a moment, Aviendha joined her.
Min wondered whether to tell her what she had seen while they were all together. Aviendha would have Rand’s babies, too. Four of them at once! Something was odd about that, though. The babies would be healthy, but still something odd. And people often did not like hearing about their futures, even when they said they wanted to. She wished someone could tell her whether she herself would . . .
Walking along in silence, Aviendha wiped sweat from her face with her fingers and swallowed hard. Min had to swallow, too. Everything Rand was feeling was in that hall. Everything!
“The kerchief trick didn’t work for you, either?” she said hoarsely.
Aviendha blinked, and crimson darkened her face. A moment later, she said, “That is better. Thank you. I . . . With him in my head, I forgot.” She frowned. “It did not work for you?”
Min shook her head miserably. This was indecent! “It helps if I talk, though.” She had to make friends with this woman, somehow, if this whole peculiar business was to have a hope of working. “I’m sorry for what I said. About toes, I mean. I know a little of your customs. There’s something about that man that just makes me cheeky. I can’t control my tongue. But don’t think I’m going let you start hitting me or carving on me. Maybe I have toh, but we’ll have to find some other way. I could always groom your horse, when we have time.”
“You are as proud as my sister,” Aviendha muttered, frowning. What did she mean by that? “You have a good sense of humor, too.” She seemed to be talking to herself. “You did not make a fool of yourself about Rand and Elayne the way most wetlander women would. And you did remind me . . . ” With a sigh, she flipped her shawl up onto her shoulders. “I know where there is some oosquai.  “No!” she growled. “Not yet!”
Coming toward them was an apparition that made Min’s jaw drop. Consternation pushed Rand beyond awareness. From comments she had known that the Captain-General of Elayne’s Guards was a woman, and Elayne’s Warder to boot, but nothing else. This woman had a thick, intricate golden braid pulled over one shoulder of her short, white-collared red coat, and her voluminous blue trousers were tucked into boots with heels as high as Min’s. Auras danced around her and images flickered, more than Min had ever seen around anyone, thousands it seemed, cascading over one another. Elayne’s Warder and Captain-General of the Queen’s Guards . . . wobbled . . . a little, as though she had already been into the oosquai. Servants who caught sight of her decided they had work in another part of the Palace, leaving the three of them alone in the corridor. She did not seem to see Min and Aviendha until she almost walked into them.
  She trembled, and visibly controlled herself, but even then she was breathing hard. Her legs did not seem to want to hold her upright. Licking her lips, she swallowed and went on angrily. “Burn her, I can’t concentrate enough to shake it off!  Despite her tone, her shoulders were hunched, and she did not quite meet the other woman’s stare.  Not in my—!” Abruptly, Birgitte’s glazed blue eyes bulged. The golden haired woman’s mouth dropped open, and she would have fallen if Min and Aviendha had not each seized an arm.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she sobbed, just once, and whimpered, “Two months!” Shaking free of them, she straightened and fixed Aviendha with blue eyes clear as water and hard as ice.  Aviendha’s sullen, indignant glare just slid off her.
“You’re Birgitte Silverbow!” Min breathed. She had been sure even before Aviendha said the name. No wonder the Aiel woman was behaving as if she feared those threats would be carried out right then and there. Birgitte Silverbow! “I saw you at Falme!”
Birgitte gave a start as if goosed, then looked around hurriedly. Once she realized they were alone, she relaxed. A little. She eyed Min up and down. “Whatever you saw, Silverbow is dead,” she said bluntly. “I’m Birgitte Trahelion, now, and that’s all.” Her lips twisted wryly for a moment. “The flaming Lady Birgitte Trahelion, if you flaming please. Kiss a sheep on Mother’s Day if I can do anything about that, I suppose. And who might you be when you’re to home?  This was Birgitte Silverbow, hero of a hundred legends? The woman was foul-mouthed! And what did she mean, Silverbow was dead?  Besides, those multitudes of images and auras flashed by too quickly for her to make out any clearly, but she was certain they indicated more adventures than a woman could have in one lifetime.  Legend or no legend, that superior air irritated her no end. “Elayne, Aviendha and I just bonded a Warder,” she said without thinking. “And if Elayne is celebrating a little, well, you better think twice about storming in, or you’ll be the one sitting tender.”
That was enough to make her aware of Rand again. That raging furnace was still there, hardly lessened at all, but thank the Light, he was no longer . . . Blood rushed into her cheeks. He had lain often enough in her arms, catching his breath in the tangle of their bedding, but this really did seem like peeping!
“Him?” Birgitte said softly. “Mothers’ milk in a cup! She could have fallen in love with a cutpurse or a horse thief, but she had to choose him, more fool her. By what I saw of him at that place you mentioned, the man’s too pretty to be good for any woman. In any case, she has to stop.”
“You have no right!” Aviendha insisted in a sulky voice, and Birgitte took on a look of patience. Stretched patience, but still patience.
“She might be proper as a Talmouri maiden except when it comes to putting her head on the chopping block, but I think she’ll wind up her courage to put him through his paces again, and even if she does whatever it was she did, she’ll forget and be back in my head.
“Think of it as a good joke,” Aviendha said pleadingly. Pleadingly! “She has played a good joke on you, that is all.” A curl of Birgitte’s lip expressed what she thought of that.
“There’s a trick Elayne told me,” Min said hurriedly, catching hold of Birgitte’s sleeve. “It didn’t work for me, but maybe . . . ” Unfortunately, once she had explained . . .
“She’s still there,” Birgitte said grimly after a moment. “Step out of my way, Min Farshaw,” she said, pulling her arm free, “or—”
“Oosquai!” Aviendha voice rose desperately, and she was actually wringing her hands! “I know where there is oosquai! If you are drunk . . . Please, Birgitte! I . . . I will pledge myself to obey you, as apprentice to mistress, but please do not interrupt her! Do not shame her so!”
“Oosquai?” Birgitte mused, rubbing her jaw. “Is that anything like brandy? Hmm. I think the girl is blushing! She really is prim most of the time, you know. A joke, you said?” Suddenly she grinned, and spread her arms expansively. “Lead me to this oosquai of yours, Aviendha. I don’t know about you two, but I intend to get drunk enough to . . . well . . . to take off my clothes and dance on the table. And not a hair drunker.”
Min did not understand that at all, or why Aviendha stared at Birgitte and suddenly began laughing about it being “a wonderful joke,” but she was sure she knew why Elayne was blushing, if she actually was. That hard ball of sensations in her head was a raging wildfire again.
“Could we go find that oosquai, now?” she said. “I want to get drunk as a drowned mouse, and fast!”
When Elayne woke the next morning, the bedchamber was icy, a light snow was falling on Caemlyn, and Rand was gone. Except inside her head. That would do.  For now, it would. Stretching languorously beneath the blankets, she remembered her abandon the night before—and most of the day as well! She could hardly believe it had been her!—and thought that she should be blushing like the sun! But she wanted to be abandoned with Rand, and she did not think she would ever blush again, not for anything connected to him.
Best of all, he had left her a present. On the pillow beside her when she woke lay a golden lily in full bloom, the dew fresh on the lush petals. Where he could have gotten such a thing in the middle of winter she could not begin to imagine. But she wove a Keeping around it, and set it on a side table where she would see it every morning when she woke. The weave was Moghedien’s teaching, but it would hold the blossom fresh forever, the dewdrops never evaporating, a constant reminder of the man who had given her his heart.
Her morning was taken up with the news that Alivia had vanished during the night, a serious matter that put the Kin in a tumult. It was not until Zaida appeared in a taking because Nynaeve had not come for a lesson with the Atha’an Miere that Elayne learned that Nynaeve and Lan were both gone from the Palace, too, and no one knew when or how. Not until much later did she learn that the collection of angreal and ter’angreal they had carried out of Ebou Dar was missing the most powerful of the three angreal, and several other items besides. Some of those, she was sure, were intended for a woman who expected to be attacked at any moment with the One Power. Which made the hastily scribbled note Nynaeve had left hidden among the remainder all the more disturbing.


I'm an experienced web, desktop, and API developer. I've been building and designing apps for over 10 years.
Most of my experience is on the Microsoft stack but I've been shifting focus to OS X and Linux on my side projects. I have extensive experience with JavaScript and have been using Go for several months on side projects.
Everyone has a niche they are passionate about - mine has always been a focus on user experience. Sometimes that is the experience of our end-users as I help drive features through development. Sometimes that is experience of our development team as I refine build scripts, automation tools, and overall improvement of our processes.
I believe my skills are a strong asset to any project and I look forward to talking with you!
Recommendations available upon request.
A few of my side projects are on GitHub (github.com/jpoehls). Some notable mentions are:
I'm actively working on a larger web app that uses Go + PostgreSQL
but it isn't open source.
I'm happy to show off the code on request.
I've written several articles as I've been learning Go. A few of my favorites are:
I have many more posts on zduck.com. My most popular is a breakdown of exit code anomalies in PowerShell and I believe it highlights my attention to detail. zduck.com/2012/powershell-batch-files-exit-codes
InterWorks is an I.T. consulting company based in Oklahoma. They are a boutique consultancy that prides themselves on "doing the best work, for the best clients, with the best people." They do everything from network and hardware infrastructure, to business intelligence and data consulting, to software and web development.
Lead developer on the Workbook SDK for Tableau - a .NET API for reading and writing Tableau workbook files.
Developer on the Workbook Tools for Tableau and Enterprise Deployment Tool - automation and GUI tools for meeting the needs of Tableau users in the enterprise.
I've blogged about my work on the SDK. powertoolsfortableau.com/making-workbook-sdk-tableau
Tableau is a leading data visualization and analytics application. tableausoftware.com
Web developer role. Led incremental migration from WebForms to MVC, and ExtJS to jQuery and Backbone. Implemented many customer facing features across the stack from the JavaScript front-end to SQL Server backend.
Contributed many process improvements including CI builds, automated deployments, and a custom linting tool.
Web developer role. Short stint helping to implement some features and improve styling (CSS) and general UX.
Very short stint working on a PhoneGap port of the game. Continued work that a previous developer had started and focused on refactoring and a small number of remaining features. The port was shelved before launch but I was able to dig into PhoneGap and get the app working in the iOS, BlackBerry, and Android simulators.
I improved the build scripts to generate the various distributables and deploy the app to the simulators.
Worked with 42 Labs to develop the Bixy backend and consumer facing web application. Bixy is an exciting startup working to make online advertising more friendly to consumers and profitable for business.
42 Labs provided us with detailed requirements and I was part of a two man team that built out the application and infrastructure. The project included regular scrum style meetings with 42 Labs and close collaboration with them throughout the development.
SGS is a field inspection and asset integrity management business. I worked on a small three person team that created and maintained applications to support the day-to-day operations of the offices (~300 people). We also developed several specialized applications to fulfil client requests.
I work as part of a small (~3 person) team that supports the day-to-day operations of a field inspection and asset integrity management business. On any given day I work on any of our various data entry programs, automated document and CAD drawing processing utilities, web applications and serving as technical support for our internal users.
In addition to development work I also acted as the Team Foundation Server source control administrator for our group and implemented a build and deployment process for our applications.
Primary developer of SGS' industry leading application for gather inspection data in the field via tablet computers. Pipewrx Mobile is in active use by over 30 of our field inspectors and the number keeps growing as more clients see this technology as the future of inspections.
Pipewrx Mobile has given SGS a leading edge in the industry and is actively opening up new opportunities for the company across the world. I'm proud to have been the pioneering developer to bring this project from concept to production.
The tablet application is written in WinForms/C# with ASP.NET Web Services in the back-end and is supported by several utility data processing apps.
Junction is the office side of Pipewrx Mobile that provides a fast and efficient interface for data entry personel to process the field inspection reports from Pipewrx Mobile.
MIMS is the client facing web application that provides access to the processed inspection reports, related reports and metrics, as well as a host of other data entry and management utilities.
I played a leading role in the development of their mechanical inspection suite of web applications. This suite provides clients with the ability to view and analyze their data, spot problem areas with scorecards, and plan for future work with scheduling reports. I led several innovations in this system, including work on a virtual equipment tree that groups and organizes the digital documentation for equipment from several separate systems into a single, user friendly UI.
This web application is written in ASP.NET/C# and leverages Silverlight for several of its features.
I started the project by doing the initial prototyping and have since continued the development towards a version 1.0 product that is actively (and successfully) being marketed to companies.
The application itself is a SOA application with a WinForms/WPF (mixed) client front-end that communicates to WCF services for the data processing and storage.
I was contracted by Innovative Inspection Solutionsto develop an inspection data management application from the ground up. innovative-inspection.com
Digital Honeycomb is a technology consultant and development firm. I worked on various Classic ASP and ASP.NET web applications, as well as maintaining Windows 2003/IIS6 development servers and Subversion repositories. digitalhoneycomb.com
I lead development of an e-commerce portal for companies who offer discounts on cellular phones and plans to their employees and partners. I was responsible for application design decisions, development, and keeping current services stable while rapidly adding new features. I also worked with business partners to ensure our service was staying ahead of our competitors and to plan new features. This was all in ASP.NET/C# with SQL Server 2005; I worked on this project from its inception through 3 major releases with continuous development in between.
Worked on a variety of CRM (Customer Relations Management) applications and other sales-centric projects for a various Digicomb clients.


| DOSE: T+ 0:00 |
28 mg |
oral |
AMT |
(capsule) |
| T+ 6:00 |
1 tablet |
oral |
MDMA |
(pill / tablet) |
| T+ 11:00 |
1 tablet |
oral |
MDMA |
(pill / tablet) |
Short Story
AMT Seems to have a significant effect as an MAOI and makes MDMA dangerously and uncomfortably potent.
Long Story
New goodies and a desert party called, and we decided to make this weekend the bender of the summer. We had started the weekend on Wednesday with 2C-T-2 & MDMA, Thursday with GHB followed by cocaine, had felt tired the next day and opted for a good nights sleep on Friday before heading off to the desert party on Saturday.
I had just obtained some AMT, and this was the last party before university started again. No one we knew had taken AMT before. Being the educated psychonauts that we are, we had read several trip reports beforehand. Each seemed to vary to a huge degree, depending on amount and setting. Not wanting to get stuck in a psychedelic crisis, we decided to go with a ~28mg dose. Better safe than sorry, right?
The party we were planning on attending ended up being road blocked by the cops. However, we walked in past the cops on a train track nearby and got in to find the party still going, although in a much more disorganized way. We decided to pitch our campsite down the road about 5kms away. After much debate & discussion, we chomped down our AMT and started to set up camp. In an hour the tent and tarp was up, and my mood had smoothed out considerably as well. Drug effects or just achieving a goal instead of stewing? Both, I think. We set off walking down the road to sneak into the party by walking along the railway tracks. By T+2 hours I was starting to feel 'different', points of light in the darkness became much more intense, and the amount of 'static' increased continually. Sounds became fuller. I tripped over a chunk of rusted metal on the road and we both nearly had heart attacks from the shock and noise.
Over the hour and a half that we walked I came up slowly, my emotional headspace started to follow a predictable pattern of peace & tranquility => wonder => doubt => fear => paranoia. Just when I thought we were doing the wrong thing, sneaking down the train tracks into an illegal party, and was ready to go home and hide somewhere warm, I'd get a wave of security, trust and love.
Once we got into the party with no hitches I felt much less muscle tension and spent a few minutes sitting and eating chocolate chips. As we were eating the chocolate, we remembered about the MAOI effects of AMT, but wondered what an intense chocolate buzz would be like. Iím not sure if it was just from the sugar or from the chocolate, but all of a sudden I was full of energy again and went to dance. Dancing was excellent. Mental focus was in the groove, and I felt energetic and coordinated, if a little less social than usual. Once I found my friends, I felt extremely social. Rather mdma-like.
There was not much to report on visually, I didnít notice much other than lots of static and enhanced colours/shadows. Definitely one to try during the day.
Over the course of the next few hours the visual aspects of the drug became slightly more pronounced, the primary effects being points of light becoming shinier and enhanced patterning, constellations and geometric patterns appeared to jump out in the stars. It was also very cool dancing with giant shadows made on the walls of a desert cliff.
Energy levels were doing just fine, in fact, I felt slightly jittery but not uncomfortably so. Dancing remained very good fun. Felt very coordinated and in touch with the music.
However, after a while the effects started to seem like they needed something else. The experience felt slightly unfulfilling. It was pleasant enough, but a sort of bored feeling seemed to set in. (I felt this aspect later on another AMT trip also) This was our last weekend party and we wanted it to be something extra special.
So, at about T + 6-7 hours, we considered taking some MDMA. We'd both done these pills before and knew them to be quite nice, a good MDMA experience. (Marquis reagent tested) The pills were fairly strong, somewhere between 125-160mg. As I previously mentioned, we'd heard about the MAOI effects of AMT, but had also read trip reports in which others had done MDMA some time into an AMT trip and enjoyed (and survived) it. Being the fiends we are, the caps went down the hatch with only a second thought.
Time dissolved right about there... we came up quite quickly, and I really only remember bits and pieces. Started to hallucinate quite a bit more from the E and the eye wiggles got to the point of not being able to see hardly at all. My jaw started chattering and clenching uncontrollably as well. Usually I can control these side effects, but nothing worked this time except stuffing my mitten between my teeth. I was so high that I was scared for my health and my friends. Not to mention the fear from being so high that you are unaware of things you are doing and that are going on around you. Since neither of us could talk or walk we laid on our sides in a tent and chattered 'I love you' to each other to make sure we were awake/alive.
Iím really not sure what happened for the next couple of hours. There are brief moments I recall but not many, and quite discombobulated.
 This must have been about three or four hours after taking the MDMA. To be alive, in love and hyper aware of universal forces was the greatest feeling in the world. I had a headache from the violent E high for about 3 days though.
To experience the empathetic effects of E while being dangerously high is something I cannot describe and do not want to repeat. The trip was very scary as the MDMA high just mangled us. We are both quite aware of the health and safety risks of MDMA, and to feel yourself being electrified with that much was quite disturbing. Yes it felt good, but it was debilitating to the point of not being able to do much but shake.
At about 9-10am, we left the party and went back to our campsite. There, having recovered and feeling sort of normal, we decided to take another dose of MDMA. Stupid? Probably. Lucky? Yes. In part, we wanted to make up for the lost time and have some time being comfortably high rather than just messed up.
The effects were like a normal booster dose of MDMA, however, hardly pronounced at all from the last dose in itís magnified form. We then drove back to the party for another couple of hours. Took 1 and a half tabs of acid each, fairly weak acid to start with, and got hardly any effects from that.
Since I was feeling fine, no hallucinations or real mental disturbances, we decided to drive home about 2-3 hours after taking the acid and not having much happen, and as well people were leaving and the party was pretty much over. Driving on psychedelics is of course foolish and I am usually quite paranoid regarding driving and psychedelics Ė one experience on mushrooms was enough to convince me of that. This time I was feeling almost normal, but took it extra easy and avoided the main roads.
When we arrived home we continued our binge, with plunged MDMA, followed by some 2C-T-2 later that evening. We had a lovely walk at sunset and watched the city, which looked very cool as all the lights turned on. My friend reckoned the 2C-T-2 visuals were stronger than normal, as we only had an 8mg dose, but it seems synergistic with MDMA.
 A third pill of MDMA was opened and snorting some amount of it produced very minor effects. Needless to say, we called in sick the next day as the weekend was not over. We made the mistake of leaving a line or two of MDMA from the night before, which became the start of the next evenings excess. By the end of the next evening, I was exhausted and really tired. Burnt might be an appropriate word.
This experience truly sated our drug appetites, in fact, it made us a bit turned off. It was a test of boundaries and excess, and we really did find those boundaries. Iím not sure what the point of banging our heads off the wall for the last couple of days was, but it was interesting to try. The final MDMA + 2C-T-2 experience did yield a fairly good trip, perhaps riding on the serotonin upsurge from the massive usage the night before as the serotonin system rocks back and forth.
However snorting all that E afterwards was just a waste of good drugs.
The experience really rubbed in the fact that with E, less is more. The first experience was too intense.  Finally, we learned that no matter what, BE CAREFUL, taking a full dose of MDMA was a mistake and I hope no one else repeats this. The other trip report is misleading as it barely makes mention of the insane intensity of it. I wonder if it wasnt as strong, or what? Yet another trip report mentions the urge to take MDMA as they felt a similar unsatisfied feeling. If you are going to take MDMA with AMT, I would start with a tiny dose. I wonder about the extra damage done by MAOIís though.
I repeated an AMT trip later by itself. I found a similar thing, that it was very long, perhaps too long. I donít imagine it to be too bad as long as you have something to entertain yourself with. But, due to the MAOI effects, I would urge you all to be very careful about topping up the trip in the last legs because you may get a lot more than you bargained for.
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.


SAHARA (1943) Directed by Zoltan Korda. Written by John Howard Lawson, Korda and others. Photography, Rudolph Maté. Music, Miklos Rosza. Cast: Humphrey Bogart, Bruce Bennett, J. Carrol Naish, Lloyd Bridges, Rex Ingram, Richard Nugent, Dan Duryea, et al.
In these days of World War II movies (Saving Private Ryan -The Thin Red Line- fine documentaries on the History Channel, etc.) my strong interest in the subject made me watch for the nth time that oldie-goodie, Sahara.
This WW II actioneer set in North Africa was inspired from an incident in an older Soviet film, which incident it transposes. The British are retreating from Tobruk. American tank commander, Sergeant Humphrey Bogart , cut off behind the lines of the retreating British, tries to reach the main force, with a motley crew of Americans, British and Africans, plus two prisoners. They must outfox the Germans and find water. At the well, the small group will try to delay an advancing enemy battalion of 500.
1943 was smack in the middle of a time that went for strong and simple movie heroics. Bogie¹s: ³We have only one purpose, to save ourselves to be able to fight again² sums up the good and the bad of the film.
The vigorous action-and-survival story is well directed by Zoltan Korda, well shot by Rudolph Mate, well co-written by John Howard Lawson. Rudolph Maté was an ace cinematographer with an impressive list of credits. He later turn to directing. (Offhand, I think that his D.O.A. --the prototype-- is his most original film). Other Sahara credits are excellent. It was a strong team.
The three cosmopolitan Hungarian Korda brothers (Zoltan, the director; Vincent, the art director; Alexander, the director and mega-producer) had their long, important last part of their career in Great Britain.
Zoltan, directed there not too many films, but these included the masterful paean to the Brits and their Empire, Four Feathers (1939), designed by Vincent, produced by Alexander. In fact, Alexander contributed enormously to the genre I think of as "England as Brittania."
It is a fact too that without Alexander Korda (and Alfred Hitchcock), British cinema in the 1930s would not have become a major player.
Lawson, a major Hollywood scriptwriter, was a leftist whose work included patriotic American films. He became one of the Hollywood Ten victims in the post-war days of witch-hunting Senator Joe McCarthy.
The production values of Sahara are very good. And Bogart is Bogie in fine fettle. He had been doing war films since Across the Pacific (1942) --which may not be on the rosters of notable films, but which I think is great in a pre-campy way. Well worth seeing. Casablanca came out in later 1942. Four, count'em, Bogiepics came out in 1942!
Back to Sahara. It's fine and dandy but it has a seeming weakness: the well-meaning, (inevitable in its day, but now dated) propaganda in the dialogue. It gets especialy silly with Giuseppe (J .Carroll Naish), the "nice" Italian prisoner of war who feels like a caricature. Among other things, he delivers to the nasty German co-prisoner a long, very scripted and patriotic anti-Nazi speech. It is more than doubtful that anyone ever spoke that way. Today, if anything, it is almost like comic relief.
But it's not all that simple. 1943 was the year of the meeting (January 14) of Britain's Prime Minister Churchill and US. President Roosevelt in -- yes !!! --Casablanca, to discuss among other plans, the invasion of Italy. The Allies invaded Sicily on July10, 1943. On September 3, Italy signed an armistice. On October 13, Italy declared was against the Germans.
"Sahara" was released, cannily, on November 11, 1943, Armistice Day (later Veterans Day). Great timing!
I do not know the exact dates of the movie's conception, writing, and shooting, but-- again, most cannily-- it is clear to me that the whole thing was a preparation for, if not an echo of, the Italian events. With so many Italian-American GIs fighting and dying for the U.S.A, Hollywood was always mindful to sing the praises of its huge Italian-American population. The twist here is to extend the spirit of democracy to Italian-Italians and pave the way for an USA-Italy entente.
So, politically, it was not, at the time, all that silly to have placed all those good sentiments in the mouth of "amico Italiano" Giuseppe.
J. Carroll Naish, by the way, was a prince among supporting actors. He played an incredible number of roles in which he was everything from a Latin- American to a Greek, a Frenchman, an Indian-Indian, an American Indian (Sitting Bull), an Arab, a Chinese, and more.
The gag (unverified by me) is that this New Yorker born of Irish parents played every nationality except an Irishman!
With many more virtues than flaws, Sahara is still among the better war movies. Three Oscar nominations include Supporting actor (Naish) and Cinematography. It was often imitated, notably as a Western, The Last of the Comanches (Edwin Jahiel)
( " Le mauvais gout mene au crime" (Stendhal)
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