So you don't want a map? Well I guess we should give you this thing instead.
include "pieces/layout/header.html"
The Writing House provides a strong creative atmosphere for students to live together and improve their writing abilities. The house has four bedrooms with space for an average of six residents and one Resident Assistant.
Many plays and musical performances take place at Whitman's outdoor amphitheatre. It's also a wonderful place for studying or quiet reflection.
Anderson Hall houses mostly first-year students.
Ankeny Field is a gathering place for students. It's used as a sporting field and a place to study and hang out with friends.
The Asian Studies House is a residential house affiliated with the Chinese and Asian Studies departments and is assigned an adviser from the Chinese department.
The Athletics Fields are located about three blocks north of Whitman's campus, next to DeSales High School and at the end of Penrose Street.
Baker Center is home to the Alumni Relations and Annual Giving offices. Dining services are offered during the academic year to faculty and staff members and their guests.
The Baker Ferguson Fitness Center is a 38,000-square-foot, state-of-the-art facility which is open to Whitman students, faculty and staff members, and alumni.
The Beta Theta Pi chapter at Whitman College was founded in 1913. The chapter house was built in 1938 and houses approximately 24 students.
Borleske Stadium is home to Whitman College's basebal team. The stadium was named for legendary athlete and coach Raymond V. Borleske '10.
The staff members of Whitman's Office of Communications work in Boyer House. Mailing Services is located on the ground floor.
The Bracher Observatory, which is 9 miles north of town on Erickson Farm, has a 16-inch Newtonian telescope.
The Bratton Tennis Center, named in honor of former Whitman College president Walter A. Bratton, has four indoor tennis courts.
College House is a residence hall available to sophomores, juniors, and seniors. It houses approximately 35 students.
The Community Service Interest House focuses on promoting community service to Whitman students. The house has five bedrooms and houses an average of seven residents and one resident assistant.
A beautiful, park-like location along College Creek near Penrose House. It is often referred to as "Narnia."
Cordiner Hall is the main auditorium for the Whitman campus. The building is used for ceremonies, speeches, and performances.
The Dance Studio serves as both a classroom and a performance space for Whitman's dance program.
Das Deutsche Haus (The German House) has five bedrooms and comfortably houses an average of seven residents, one Resident Assistant, and a language assistant. This house focuses on German culture-oriented interests.
Douglas Hall, named for Supreme Court justice and Whitman alumnus William O. Douglas, is a residence hall for upperclass students. There are 10 single rooms available in the hall, and nine suites which house eight students each. Each suite has two bathrooms, a kitchenette, lounge, and laundry facilities.
The Environmental House, more commonly known as the “Outhouse,” has six bedrooms and houses an average of eight residents and one Resident Assistant. The Outhouse focuses on environmental and ecological issues and spearheads the campus’ recycling program.
The Fine Arts House (FAH) has four bedrooms and houses an average of six to eight residents and one Resident Assistant. The residents of the Fine Arts House work to promote programs emphasizing studio art, theatre, and music.
The Fouts Center for the Visual Arts is a 38,000-square-foot facility that provides space for the college's visual arts program. Fouts has studio space for different disciplines, a digital arts lab, student studio spaces, and a gallery where student work is often exhibited.
The Global Awareness House has four bedrooms and houses an average of five residents and one Resident Assistant. Residents of the Global Awareness House focus on raising campus awareness about world issues such as hunger, population, and human rights.
The Glover Alston Center provides a safe space for meaningful conversation and interaction to facilitate Whitman’s commitment to sustaining a diverse community. Many programs that are sponsored by the Intercultural Center and various student groups take place at the GAC.
The Hall of Music features Chism Recital Hall, a 300-seat performance space, as well as a listening center, an electronic music studio, 14 teaching studios, and 25 practice rooms.
Common Name: Western Larch (tamarack)
Latin Name: Larix occidentalis
Common Name: Bosnian Pine
Latin Name: Pinus heldreichii
Common Name: London Plane Tree
Latin Name: Platanus x acerifolia
Common Name: Tulip Tree
Latin Name: Liriodendron tulipifera
Common Name: Japanese Maple
Latin Name: Acer palmatum
Common Name: Smoke Tree
Latin Name: Cotinus obovatus
Common Name: Pine
Latin Name: Pinus
Common Name: Silver Maple
Latin Name: Acer saccharinum
Common Name: Maidenhair Tree
Latin Name: Ginkgo biloba
Common Name: Double Weeping Cherry
Latin Name: Prunus serrulata
Common Name: Mimosa, Silk
Latin Name: Albizia julibrissin
Common Name: Elderberry
Latin Name: Sambucus
Common Name: Group of Hiba Cedars (2)
Latin Name: Thujopsis dolabrata
Common Name: Norway Maple
Latin Name: Acer platanoides
Common Name: Black Locust
Latin Name: Robinia pseudoacacia
Common Name: Hackberry
Latin Name: Celtis occidentalis
Common Name: Pine
Latin Name: Pinus
Common Name: Southern Magnolia
Latin Name: Magnolia grandiflora
Common Name: Sycamore Maple
Latin Name: Acer pseudoplatanus
Common Name: Japanese Maple
Latin Name: Acer palmatum
Common Name: Golden Rain Tree
Latin Name: Koelreuteria paniculata
Common Name: Black Mulberry
Latin Name: Morus nigra
Common Name: Crack Willow
Latin Name: Salix fragilis
Common Name: American Sweet Gum
Latin Name: Liquidambar styraciflua
Common Name: Big Leaf Maple
Latin Name: Acer macrophylum
Common Name: India Horse Chestnut
Latin Name: Aesculus indica
Common Name: Elm
Latin Name: Ulmus
Common Name: American Sycamore
Latin Name: Platanus occidentalis
Common Name: Birch
Latin Name: Betula
Common Name: Alaska Cedar
Latin Name: Xanthocyparis nootkatensis
Common Name: Giant Sequioa
Latin Name: Sequoiadendron giganteum
Common Name: Hawthorne
Latin Name: Crataegus
Common Name: Kentucky Coffee Tree
Latin Name: Gymnocladus dioica
Common Name: Weeping Cherry
Latin Name: Prunus x subhirtella
Common Name: European Hornbeam
Latin Name: Carpinus betulus
Common Name: Wych Elm
Latin Name: Ulmus glabra
Common Name: Ash
Latin Name: Fraxinus
Common Name: Elm
Latin Name: Ulmus
Common Name: Western Red Cedar
Latin Name: Thuja plicata
Common Name: Western Red Cedar
Latin Name: Thuja plicata
Common Name: Pine
Latin Name: Pinus
Common Name: Alaska Cedar
Latin Name: Chamaecyparis nootkatensis
Common Name: Bur Oak
Latin Name: Quercus macrocarpa
Common Name: Western Red Cedar
Latin Name: Thuja plicata
Common Name: Spruce
Latin Name: Picea
Common Name: Fern-leaf Beech
Latin Name: Fagus sylvatica 'Aspleniifolia'
Common Name: Spruce
Latin Name: Picea
Common Name: Western Larch (tamarack)
Latin Name: Larix occidentalis
Common Name: Japanese White Pine
Latin Name: Pinus parviflora
The Hall of Science houses the departments of astronomy, biology, chemistry, geology and physics. Facilities include a roof-top garden, a greenhouse, Brattain Auditorium, an astronomy observation lab, and state-of-the art science equipment such as a scanning electron microscope and confocal microscope.
The Harper Joy Theatre has two performance spaces, the 310-seat Alexander Stage and the Freimann Studio Theatre. HJT also has an acting studio which serves as its primary acting classroom, a scene shop, a design classroom and computer lab, and a costume shop.
Hunter Conservatory houses the 75-seat Kimball Auditorium as well as offices for Whitman's Film and Media Studies professors and for part of the Whitman College Technology Services department.
Jewett Hall is a traditional residence hall which houses approximately 170 first year students. It has spacious lounges with kitchen space, a recreation room, and a free laundry room.
La Casa Hispana (The Spanish House) has five bedrooms and houses an average of seven residents and one Resident Assistant. A native speaker also resides in La Casa.
La Maison Française (The French House) has seven bedrooms and comfortably houses an average of eight to nine residents, one Resident Assistant, and a native speaker.
Lakum Duckum is a pond located between Maxey Hall and Mem which is heated by a nearby geothermal spring. Stone benches provide a peaceful place to relax or study.
Lyman House is a mixed-class residence hall with two-room suites. Lyman houses 89 students.
Marcus House is a residence hall that houses up to 27 upper-class students. The house has single, double and triple rooms.
The MECCA (Multi-Ethnic Center for Cultural Affairs) House has four bedrooms and comfortably houses an average of four residents and one Resident Assistant. This house focuses on raising diversity awareness on Whitman's campus by celebrating and promoting different cultures.
Many of the social sciences hold their classes in Maxey Hall. Maxey also has an Auditorium and a museum space.
North Hall is a residence hall choice for up to 70 new, returning, and transfer students who like the feel of a residential neighborhood but still enjoy being part of a larger living community.
Olin Hall is where most mathematics and humanities classes take place. Olin Hall is also home to the Sheehan Art Gallery, and Auditorium, and part of the Whitman College Technology Services Staff.
Whitman's organic garden was created in 1997 by four students. The garden is a space dedicated to spiritual renewal, meaningful labor, community vitality, and sharing healthy practices of cultivating the land. An ASWC sponsored club maintains the garden and organizes events to open the space up to everyone.
The Pacific Northwest Regional Observatory located at Braden Farm near Wallula Gap provides astronomy students the opportunity to use a 30-inch Cassegrain telescope.
Penrose House is home to the Admission office. All campus tours start here.
Penrose Library serves as a bridge between the Whitman College community—students, faculty, administration, and staff—and the information resources that promote teaching, research and learning.
Whitman's Phi Delta Theta Chapter was established in 1914. The chapter house has a dining room, a study room and a recreation hall with a pool table and ping pong table.
The Physical Plant Services Department is located on Penrose Avenue north of Isaacs. The department is responsible for keeping Whitman working efficiently - from cutting the grass to fixing the heating system, painting the walls to vacuuming the residence halls, and repairing vehicles.
Prentiss is an all-women's residence hall that features an attractive arrangement of inner and outer rooms for all doubles, many study rooms, and an AV seminar room. About 145 women live here including sorority members and new students.
Whitman College's Campus Center is one of the hubs of campus life. It has a cafe, an espresso cart, a tv lounge, and more. The Bookstore, Outdoor Program Rental Shop, Stevens Art Gallery, radio station and Campus Post Office are all located in Reid, as are several administrative offices and student offices.
The Sherwood Athletic Center features a main gym, a multipurpose use space, raquetball courts, and more. The 71,000-square-foot center also has a state-of-the-art indoor climbing wall, team locker room space for varsity programs, and modern athletic training room facilities.
Sherwood House was built in 1922. The house was acquired by Whitman College, and became the residence of the President of Whitman College in 1995.
The Gamma Epsilon Chapter of Sigma Chi was formally installed as a chapter of Sigma Chi at Whitman in 1923.
The Alpha Theta Chapter of Tau Kappa Epsilon was founded at Whitman College in 1930.
Tekisuijuku (Japanese House) has five bedrooms and comfortably houses an average of five residents, one Resident Assistant and a native speaker. This house focuses on Japanese-oriented interests.
The Welty Student Health Center is a full-service clinic with 12 overnight beds and a nursing staff. A physician is available for examinations and consultations.
The outdoor tennis courts are located between the Memorial Building and Maxey Hall.
Tamarac House, a three-story apartment building turned residence hall, is a gateway to the world of nature. Perched on the corner of Park and Main, Tamarac is home to 20 students with a deep and abiding love for outdoor adventure.
Whitman College's main administrative building, but what about this? also known as "Mem," is the oldest building on campus. Mem serves as the administrative hub for the college.


apt-get
Debian and Ubuntu package management utility.
Search for packages using `apt-cache`.
More information: home page
- Update the list of available packages and versions (it's recommended to run this before other `apt-get` commands):
apt-get update
- Install a package, or update it to the latest available version:
apt-get install package
- Remove a package:
apt-get remove package
- Remove a package and its configuration files:
apt-get purge package
- Upgrade all installed packages to their newest available versions:
apt-get upgrade
- Clean the local repository - removing package files (`.deb`) from interrupted downloads that can no longer be downloaded:
apt-get autoclean
- Remove all packages that are no longer needed:
apt-get autoremove
- Upgrade installed packages (like `upgrade`), but remove obsolete packages and install additional packages to meet new dependencies:
apt-get dist-upgrade


It's the day of the big wedding and Mark is desperately looking for a way out of going through with it - but he's determined not to be labeled a jilter at any cost. Jeremy still harbors hopes of winning Nancy back, but being Mark's best man keeps getting in the way.
Becky Martin
Jesse Armstrong & Sam Bain
4
6


Required fields are followed by *
Name: *
Male Female Other
Address:
Email: *
Pincode: *
Card Type: * --Select a Card Type-- Rupay Mastercard Visa
Card number: *
Expiration Date: *
CVV: *


Magister Kaira:
Go to
Einhasad's Temple
and meet
Brother Metheus
. He has offered to give us the Alder's remains. You must be careful and very discreet.


EXECUTE
Statement
Executes the script called script-name, which may be enclosed in quotes if the script name contains spaces or
special characters. If a result-variable is specified, then that variable
will receive the scalar value, if any, returned from the script. The result-variable does not need to be declared beforehand; the EXECUTE
statement itself will declare the variable if it does not exist. If the script does not call RETURN
,
then the return value is NULL
.
A script may define its own input parameters using the DECLARE PARAMETER
statement. If parameters are present in the script, then any EXECUTE
statement that calls it must
provide argument values for those parameters. The exception is if the DECLARE PARAMETER
statement
includes a default value. If so, then the EXECUTE
statement may omit that parameter, or it may use the
special keyword DEFAULT
; in both cases, the default value defined by the DECLARE PARAMETER
statement is used.
Syntax
Parameters
- result-variable: variable name (optional)
If provided, this is a variable name beginning with an at sign (@
), dollar sign ($
), or
colon (:
) that the return value of the script will be assigned to. The variable may be declared
beforehand, but does not need to be. The EXECUTE
statement acts as a variable declaration if the
variable does not exist.
- script-name: text or identifier
The name of the script to execute.
- parameter-name: variable name
The name of the parameter variable inside the script called script-name
whose argument value is being set.
- argument-value: scalar
The value to pass to the script for the parameter called parameter-name.
- DEFAULT: keyword
If DEFAULT
is specified instead of an argument-value, then
the parameter will use its default value. This is equivalent to omitting the parameter.
Example
-- Executes the script named "Script2" using default
-- values for all parameters and ignoring the return value.
EXECUTE Script2;
-- Executes the script named "Script2" and stores the
-- return value in the variable @returnValue.
EXECUTE @returnValue = Script2;
-- Executes the script named "My Script", using quotes
-- because the name contains whitespace.
EXECUTE 'My Script';
-- Executes the script named "Script2" and passes two
-- argument values. @foo and @bar refer to parameters
-- defined using DECLARE PARAMETER inside "Script2".
EXECUTE Script2 @foo = 1, @bar = 2;


pymatgen.symmetry.bandstructure module¶
Created on March 25, 2013
@author: geoffroy
-
class
HighSymmKpath
(structure, symprec=0.01, angle_tolerance=5, atol=1e-08)[source]¶ Bases:
object
This class looks for path along high symmetry lines in the Brillouin Zone. It is based on Setyawan, W., & Curtarolo, S. (2010). High-throughput electronic band structure calculations: Challenges and tools. Computational Materials Science, 49(2), 299-312. doi:10.1016/j.commatsci.2010.05.010 It should be used with primitive structures that comply with the definition from the paper. The symmetry is determined by spglib through the SpacegroupAnalyzer class. The analyzer can be used to produce the correct primitive structure (method get_primitive_standard_structure(international_monoclinic=False)). A warning will signal possible compatibility problems with the given structure.
- Parameters
structure (Structure) – Structure object
symprec (float) – Tolerance for symmetry finding
angle_tolerance (float) – Angle tolerance for symmetry finding.
atol (float) – Absolute tolerance used to compare the input structure with the one expected as primitive standard. A warning will be issued if the lattices don’t match.


Facebook is finally ready to talk about its blockchain plans. The largest payment systems, venture funds, non-profit organizations, and technology companies are taking part in creating the project.
Libra coin (LBR) is a token developed on the Libra blockchain. It's fully secured by a portfolio of assets with low volatility in monetary terms.
Libra will be launched in 2020. Calibra, a Facebook-based subsidiary, will provide financial services. Users will pay with a cryptocurrency through a special wallet. Originally, it will be available inside Facebook Messenger and WhatsApp, and then — as an independent app for Android and iOS.
Mark Zuckerberg's company conceived Libra to be as a form of electronic money, which is provided with reserves.
Libra may seem a custodial, fully regulated, with KYC and other everyday amenities. However, it gives the industry a chance to finally reach the masses.
Transfers to Libra won't be subject to significant commissions. They will be "invisible" for users. Libra is a “stable, low-volatile” coin, and its value is NOT tied to one fiat currency. Initially, Libra will be supported by a portfolio of assets in four federal currencies: USD, GBP, EUR, and JPY.
Among partners and early investors are Mastercard, Uber, Vodafone and other companies. Each member has one vote. Together they will guide the project development. Before the cryptocurrency official launching, the social network plans to extend the Libra Association to 100 participants although it sets strict requirements for beginners.
The Libra Association will operate a portfolio of assets to which the cryptocurrency cost is tied. Initially, the base for the token is a package of stable fiat currencies, government bonds, and bank deposits. If one of the positions sags in price, the association will be able to adjust the reserves.
Every time someone cashes Libra into fiat money, his tokens will be destroyed. Thus, a currency will always be tied to real money — each token is associated with its share of assets in reserve.
All transactions are registered in a highly scalable blockchain capable of withstanding a load of thousands of operations/second. Each member of the Libra Association will receive one verification node. Every transaction will require validation of 2/3 of all nodes in the system.
The blockchain is based on Rust and is open to developers. They will be able to create compatible applications using the Move language. The Libra Association also cooperates with the HackerOne exchange to launch a program for white hackers in order to find vulnerabilities.
The company stated that the ultimate goal of Libra is the creation of a global, decentralized payment form that is as stable as a dollar and can be used to buy anything. Moreover, later Calibra wallet will provide other financial products, including the ability to get a loan.
Libra will help the company to completely rebuild its own infrastructure and unite all its products into one platform. The total audience of the potential token is 2.7 billion people.
Facebook is developing its own payment system to integrate it into applications of partners, stores and financial organizations, as well as on websites, just like a Facebook profile is currently used for authorization on various platforms.
The Libra Blockchain will be accessible to everyone: users, developers, businesses. It will help them to develop a business, add value to existing projects.
According to TechCrunch journalists, overall access to the social network platform and low barriers is exactly what opened Cambridge Analytica doors and allowed it to get personal data of 87 million users and use them for political advertising. However, in this case, it's no longer a matter of birthdays or interests. We are talking about hundreds of thousands of dollars in Libra currency that can be stolen. Kevin Weil, vice president of product at Calibra, noted that developers' verification won't be very difficult on the platform.
Libra’s fully open, untested platform for developers, may become a ticking bomb. There is also the possibility of centralized management and full control of Libra by its members.
The social network expects to use Calibra for cash transactions in all its projects, for instance, buying on Instagram.
Facebook expects that users won't pay a commission for the use of Libra, and there will be a very small commission for organizations that accept payments.
The creators of Calibra expect Libra to be bought through the wallet application via bank accounts or through physical points that partners can launch for cash. To use it one will need to go through the identification procedure.
The system will have the second type of token (Libra Investment Token (LIT)) responsible for management. The value of this token is related to the cost of participation in this management or possibly to any income or remuneration paid to the network maintainers.
Libra will manage a closed group of organizations that is different from decentralized Bitcoin. In this situation, the blockchain code will be in the public domain and the third-party companies will be able to create apps for it.
Each member of the Libra Association (based in Geneva), except non-profit organizations, will contribute at least $10 million to the project. The consortium plans to recruit about 100 participants.
Calibra is now managed by David Marcus, the ex-president of PayPal and vice-president of Facebook Messenger.
The basis of Facebook's cryptocurrency is the Libra open-sourced blockchain. It will be available for integration to many users and companies (the JPMorgan Chase cryptocurrency, on the contrary, isn't public). Initially, the blockchain will be closed: to connect the new validating nodes to the network one will need the approval of the rest of the platform. In the future, it's planned to move the project to an open blockchain. It will become one of the main tasks of the platform. Libra blockchain will be written in a specially developed new programming language Move. The Libra Consensus Protocol will be called LibraBFT. It's resistant to the Byzantine error, which means Libra’s blockchain infrastructure will function normally, even if some nodes fall into the hands of intruders or work incorrectly.
Smart contracts will be written in the Move language, developed specifically for the Libra blockchain. According to the white paper, Move is “bytecode executable language used to implement user transactions and smart contracts.” At the time Libra is launched, only smart contracts previously approved by Libra Association will be used. This may be a limitation, considering that many organizations plan to use the network.
Calibra is a Libra wallet. It’ll be available both as a standalone mobile app (which means one doesn’t need a Facebook account) and inside Facebook Messenger and Whatsapp (and possibly Instagram). This will allow users to receive/send money (Libra) to other people, replenish their account (conversion of their local currency into Libra).
Later, Calibra will also allow “to pay for daily transactions, such as the purchase of coffee or food, to pay for public transport”.
Once Calibra is available, one can create an account. This will require a KYC.
The Facebook project will have an important impact on the financial industry in the world economy in the long term. Libra is the first attempt to create a global currency that will be used daily by billions of people and companies around the world.
However, the level of its progress will greatly depend on how Libra can satisfy regulators and financial institutions to cooperate with the consortium in creating a flexible structure that meets the need for decentralized management while respecting existing domestic and international standards.


Wrapper for Compound File Binary Format (CFB)
More...
#include <cfb.hpp>
|
| | Cfb (const std::string &fileName) |
| |
| template<typename T > |
| T | readByte (const std::string &data, int offset, int size) const |
| | Read binary data. More...
|
| |
| void | parse () |
| | Parse file-system-like structure within a file. More...
|
| |
| std::string | getStream (const std::string &name, int offset=0, bool isRoot=false) const |
| | Get binary stream content by name in "directory" structure. More...
|
| |
| void | clear () |
| | Clear all data and release resources. More...
|
| |
|
| std::string | unicodeToUtf8 (std::string input, bool check=false) const |
| | Convert unicode to UTF-8. More...
|
| |
|
| static std::string | binToHex (const std::string &input) |
| | Convert binary data to hex. More...
|
| |
Wrapper for Compound File Binary Format (CFB)
◆ Cfb()
| cfb::Cfb::Cfb |
( |
const std::string & |
fileName | ) |
|
◆ binToHex()
| std::string cfb::Cfb::binToHex |
( |
const std::string & |
input | ) |
|
|
staticprotected |
Convert binary data to hex.
- Parameters
-
- Returns
- Hex data
- Since
- 1.0
◆ clear()
Clear all data and release resources.
- Since
- 1.0
◆ decodeUTF16()
| std::string cfb::Cfb::decodeUTF16 |
( |
const std::string & |
data | ) |
|
|
static |
Decode UTF-16 text.
- Parameters
-
| [in] | data | input UTF-16 text |
- Returns
- UTF-8 text
- Since
- 1.1
◆ getStream()
| std::string cfb::Cfb::getStream |
( |
const std::string & |
name, |
|
|
int |
offset = 0 , |
|
|
bool |
isRoot = false |
|
) |
| const |
Get binary stream content by name in "directory" structure.
- Parameters
-
| [in] | name | Stream name |
| [in] | offset | Start position in m_fatEntries |
| [in] | isRoot | If stream is root in structure |
- Returns
- Stream content
- Since
- 1.0
◆ handleDifat()
| void cfb::Cfb::handleDifat |
( |
| ) |
|
|
private |
Read DIFAT data (shows sectors with FAT chains description)
- Since
- 1.0
◆ handleDirectoryStructure()
| void cfb::Cfb::handleDirectoryStructure |
( |
| ) |
|
|
private |
Read structure of "files" in current file (all objects of "file system")
- Since
- 1.0
◆ handleFatChains()
| void cfb::Cfb::handleFatChains |
( |
| ) |
|
|
private |
Transform links to the FAT-sectors into real chains.
- Since
- 1.0
◆ handleHeader()
| void cfb::Cfb::handleHeader |
( |
| ) |
|
|
private |
Read data from file header.
- Since
- 1.0
◆ handleMiniFatChains()
| void cfb::Cfb::handleMiniFatChains |
( |
| ) |
|
|
private |
Read MiniFAT-chains (same as FAT-chains)
- Since
- 1.0
◆ hexVal()
| unsigned char cfb::Cfb::hexVal |
( |
unsigned char |
c | ) |
const |
|
private |
Update ASCII char code.
- Parameters
-
- Returns
- New char code
◆ parse()
Parse file-system-like structure within a file.
- Since
- 1.0
◆ readByte()
template<typename T >
| T cfb::Cfb::readByte |
( |
const std::string & |
data, |
|
|
int |
offset, |
|
|
int |
size |
|
) |
| const |
Read binary data.
- Template Parameters
-
- Parameters
-
| [in] | data | Binary data |
| [in] | offset | Start position in #data |
| [in] | size | Size of data chunk |
- Returns
- Number value
- Since
- 1.0
◆ unicodeToUtf8()
| std::string cfb::Cfb::unicodeToUtf8 |
( |
std::string |
input, |
|
|
bool |
check = false |
|
) |
| const |
|
protected |
Convert unicode to UTF-8.
- Parameters
-
| [in] | input | Unicode string |
| [in] | check | True if should check string before converting |
- Returns
- UTF-8 string
- Since
- 1.1
◆ utf16ToAnsi()
| std::string cfb::Cfb::utf16ToAnsi |
( |
const std::string & |
input | ) |
const |
|
private |
Convert UTF-16 text to ANSI.
- Parameters
-
- Returns
- ANSI text
◆ m_cDifat
| int cfb::Cfb::m_cDifat = 0 |
|
private |
◆ m_cDir
◆ m_cFAT
◆ m_cMiniFat
| int cfb::Cfb::m_cMiniFat = 0 |
|
private |
Amount of miniFAT-sectors
◆ m_data
| std::string cfb::Cfb::m_data |
|
protected |
◆ m_Difat
| std::vector<int> cfb::Cfb::m_Difat |
|
private |
◆ m_fatChains
| std::vector<int> cfb::Cfb::m_fatChains |
|
protected |
◆ m_fatEntries
| std::vector<std::pair<std::string, std::map<std::string, int> > > cfb::Cfb::m_fatEntries |
|
protected |
◆ m_fDifat
| int cfb::Cfb::m_fDifat = 0 |
|
private |
◆ m_fDir
Position of description of first file in FAT
◆ m_fileName
| const std::string cfb::Cfb::m_fileName |
◆ m_fMiniFat
| int cfb::Cfb::m_fMiniFat = 0 |
|
private |
Position of miniFAT-sectors
◆ m_isLittleEndian
| bool cfb::Cfb::m_isLittleEndian = true |
|
private |
◆ m_miniFat
| std::string cfb::Cfb::m_miniFat |
|
protected |
◆ m_miniFatChains
| std::vector<int> cfb::Cfb::m_miniFatChains |
|
protected |
◆ m_miniSectorCutoff
| unsigned short cfb::Cfb::m_miniSectorCutoff = 4096 |
|
protected |
◆ m_miniSectorShift
| unsigned short cfb::Cfb::m_miniSectorShift = 6 |
|
protected |
MiniFAT sector size shift (1 << 6 = 64)
◆ m_sectorShift
| unsigned short cfb::Cfb::m_sectorShift = 9 |
|
protected |
FAT sector size shift (1 << 9 = 512)
◆ m_version
| unsigned short cfb::Cfb::m_version = 3 |
|
private |
The documentation for this class was generated from the following files:


An LV2_Atom_Sequence wrapper.
More...
#include <lvtk/ext/atom.hpp>
An LV2_Atom_Sequence wrapper.
Since this implements an STL style container, you can use it as follows:
for (const auto& ev : seq) {
}
◆ Sequence() [1/2]
Create an Sequence from raw data.
- Parameters
-
| seq | Pointer to an LV2_Atom_Sequence |
◆ Sequence() [2/2]
Create an AtomSequnce from an LV2_Atom_Sequence.
- Parameters
-
◆ append()
Append an AtomEvent to the end of the sequence.
Effectively this is the same as lv2_atom_sequence_append, but re-implemented to avoid an extra function call.
- Parameters
-
◆ begin()
- Returns
- an iterator starting at the first event
◆ end()
- Returns
- the end iterator of this sequence
◆ insert()
Insert an AtomEvent into the middle of the sequence.
- Parameters
-
◆ operator bool()
Castable to bool.
True if the sequence isn't nullptr
◆ pad()
Return the sequence body's pad.
Currently unused per LV2 spec.
◆ size()
Return the sequence's body size.
- Note
- This method does NOT return the number of events contained in the Sequence. It is the size in terms of bytes.
The documentation for this struct was generated from the following file:


|
s2n-doxygen-full
|
#include <s2n_crypto.h>
Data Fields | |
| struct s2n_rsa_public_key | server_rsa_public_key |
| struct s2n_dh_params | server_dh_params |
| struct s2n_ecc_params | server_ecc_params |
| struct s2n_cert_chain_and_key * | chosen_cert_chain |
| s2n_hash_algorithm | signature_digest_alg |
| struct s2n_cipher_suite * | cipher_suite |
| struct s2n_session_key | client_key |
| struct s2n_session_key | server_key |
| uint8_t | rsa_premaster_secret [S2N_TLS_SECRET_LEN] |
| uint8_t | master_secret [S2N_TLS_SECRET_LEN] |
| uint8_t | client_random [S2N_TLS_RANDOM_DATA_LEN] |
| uint8_t | server_random [S2N_TLS_RANDOM_DATA_LEN] |
| uint8_t | client_implicit_iv [S2N_TLS_MAX_IV_LEN] |
| uint8_t | server_implicit_iv [S2N_TLS_MAX_IV_LEN] |
| struct s2n_hmac_state | client_record_mac |
| struct s2n_hmac_state | server_record_mac |
| uint8_t | client_sequence_number [S2N_TLS_SEQUENCE_NUM_LEN] |
| uint8_t | server_sequence_number [S2N_TLS_SEQUENCE_NUM_LEN] |
Definition at line 45 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| struct s2n_rsa_public_key server_rsa_public_key |
Definition at line 46 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| struct s2n_dh_params server_dh_params |
Definition at line 47 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| struct s2n_ecc_params server_ecc_params |
Definition at line 48 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| struct s2n_cert_chain_and_key* chosen_cert_chain |
Definition at line 49 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| s2n_hash_algorithm signature_digest_alg |
Definition at line 50 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| struct s2n_cipher_suite* cipher_suite |
Definition at line 52 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| struct s2n_session_key client_key |
Definition at line 53 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| struct s2n_session_key server_key |
Definition at line 54 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| uint8_t rsa_premaster_secret[S2N_TLS_SECRET_LEN] |
Definition at line 56 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| uint8_t master_secret[S2N_TLS_SECRET_LEN] |
Definition at line 57 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| uint8_t client_random[S2N_TLS_RANDOM_DATA_LEN] |
Definition at line 58 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| uint8_t server_random[S2N_TLS_RANDOM_DATA_LEN] |
Definition at line 59 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| uint8_t client_implicit_iv[S2N_TLS_MAX_IV_LEN] |
Definition at line 60 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| uint8_t server_implicit_iv[S2N_TLS_MAX_IV_LEN] |
Definition at line 61 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| struct s2n_hmac_state client_record_mac |
Definition at line 63 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| struct s2n_hmac_state server_record_mac |
Definition at line 64 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| uint8_t client_sequence_number[S2N_TLS_SEQUENCE_NUM_LEN] |
Definition at line 65 of file s2n_crypto.h.
| uint8_t server_sequence_number[S2N_TLS_SEQUENCE_NUM_LEN] |
Definition at line 66 of file s2n_crypto.h.


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The Sun Palace’s sunroom was cold despite fires roaring on hearths at either end of the room, thickly layered carpets, and a slanted glass roof that let in bright morning light where snow caught on the thin mountains did not shield it, but it was suitable for holding audiences. Cadsuane had thought it best not to appropriate the throne room. So far, Lord Dobraine had remained quiet about her holding Caraline Damodred and Darlin Sisnera—she saw no better way to keep them from going on with their mischief than keeping them in a firm grip—but Dobraine might begin to fuss over that if she pushed beyond what he considered proper. He was too close to the boy for her to want to force him, and faithful to his oaths. She could look back on her life and recall failures, some bitterly regretted, and mistakes that had cost lives, but she could not afford mistakes or failure here. Most definitely not failure. Light, she wanted to bite someone!
“I demand the return of my Windfinder, Aes Sedai!”   Wavemistress of her clan for ten years, she had commanded a large vessel long before that. Her Sailmistress, Derah din Selaan, a younger woman all in blue, sat on a chair placed a careful foot farther back in accordance with their notions of propriety. The pair might have been dark carvings of outrage, and their outlandish jewelry somehow added to the effect. Neither so much as flickered an eye toward Eben when he bowed and offered silver goblets of hot spiced wine on a tray.
The boy did not seem to know what to do next when they took nothing. Frowning uncertainly, he remained bent until Daigian plucked at his red coat and led him away smiling, an amused pouter pigeon in dark blue slashed with white. A slender lad with a big nose and large ears, never to be called handsome much less pretty, but she was very possessive of him. They took seats close together on a padded bench in front of one of the fireplaces and began playing cat’s cradle.
“Your sister is assisting us in learning what happened on the unfortunate day,” Cadsuane said smoothly, and somewhat absently.  No matter how Dobraine grumbled about how impossible it was to meet the terms of that incredible bargain Rafela and Merana had made on behalf of the al’Thor boy, he still might have handled the Sea Folk himself. She could hardly give them half of her mind. Probably that was just as well for them. If she focused on the Atha’an Miere, she would be hard-pressed not to swat them like bitemes, though they were not the real source of her exasperation.
Five sisters were arrayed around the fireplace at the other end of the sunroom from Daigian and Eben.  Like the others, she wore a plain woolen dress more suited to a merchant than an Aes Sedai. If any regretted the lack of silks, or money for silks, they did not show it. Sarene, with her thin, beaded braids, stood working at a large embroidery frame, her needle making the tiny stitches of yet another flower in a field of blossoms. Erian and Beldeine were playing stones, watched by Elza, who waited her turn to take on the winner. By all appearances they were enjoying an idle morning, without a care in the world. Perhaps they knew they were here because she wanted to study them. Why had they sworn fealty to the al’Thor boy? At least Kiruna and the others had been in his presence when they decided to swear. She was willing to admit that no one could resist the influence of a ta’veren when it caught you. But these five had taken a harsh penance for kidnapping him and reached their decision to offer oath before they were brought near him. In the beginning she had been inclined to accept their various explanations, but over the last few days that inclination had taken hard knocks. Disturbingly hard knocks.
“My Windfinder is not subject to your authority, Aes Sedai,” Harine said sharply, as if denying the blood connection. “Shalon must and will be returned to me at once.” Derah nodded curt agreement. Cadsuane thought the Sailmistress might do the same if Harine ordered her to jump from a cliff. In the Atha’an Miere’s hierarchy, Derah stood a long distance below Harine. And that was almost as much as Cadsuane knew of them. The Sea Folk might prove useful or might not, but she could find a way to get a grip on them in any case.
“This is an Aes Sedai inquiry,” she replied blandly. “We must follow Tower law.” Loosely interpreted, to be sure. She had always believed the spirit of the law was far more important than the letter.
Harine puffed up like an adder and began yet another harangue listing her rights and demands, but Cadsuane listened with half an ear.
She could almost understand Erian, a pale, black-haired Illianer, fiercely insisting that she must be at the boy’s side when he fought the Last Battle. And Beldeine, so new to the shawl that she had not yet achieved agelessness, so determined to be everything that a Green should be. And Elza, a pleasant-faced Andoran whose eyes almost glowed when she spoke of making certain that he lived to face the Dark One. Another Green, and even more intense than most. Nesune, hunched forward to peer at her book, looked like a black-eyed bird examining a worm. A Brown, she would climb into a box with a scorpion if she wanted to study it. Sarene might be fool enough to be startled that anyone thought her pretty, much less stunning, but the White insisted on the cool precision of her logic; al’Thor was the Dragon Reborn, and logically, she must follow him. Tempestuous reasons, idiotic reasons, yet she could have accepted them, if not for the others.
The door to the hall opened to admit Verin and Sorilea. The leathery, white-haired Aiel woman handed something small to Verin that the Brown tucked into her belt pouch. Verin was wearing a flowered brooch on her simple bronze-colored dress, the first jewelry Cadsuane had ever seen on her aside from her Great Serpent ring.
“That will help you sleep,” Sorilea said, “but remember, just three drops in water or one in wine. A little more, and you might sleep a day or longer. Much more, and you will not wake. There is no taste to warn you, so you must be careful.”
So Verin was having trouble sleeping, too. Cadsuane had not had a good night’s rest since the boy fled the Sun Palace. If she did not find one soon, she thought she might bite someone. Nesune and the others were eyeing Sorilea uneasily. The boy had made them apprentice themselves to the Wise Ones, and they had learned that the Aiel women took that very seriously. One snap of Sorilea’s bony fingers could end their idle morning.
Harine leaned forward out of her chair and gave Cadsuane’s cheek a sharp tap with her fingers! “You are not listening to me,” she said harshly. Her face was a thunderhead, and that of her Sailmistress scarcely less stormy. “You will listen!”
Cadsuane put her hands together and regarded the woman over her fingertips. No. She would not stand the Wavemistress on her head here and now. She would not send the woman back to her apartments weeping. She would be as diplomatic as Coiren could wish. Hastily she scanned through what she had heard. “You speak for the Mistress of the Ships to the Atha’an Miere, with all of her authority, which is more than I can imagine,” she said mildly. “If your Windfinder is not returned to you within the hour, you will see that the Coramoor punishes me severely. You require an apology for your Windfinder’s imprisonment. And you require me to make Lord Dobraine set aside the land promised by the Coramoor immediately. I believe that covers the essential points.” Except for the one about having her flogged!
“Good,” Harine said, leaning back comfortably, in command now. Her smile was sickeningly self-satisfied. “You will learn that—”
“I do not care a fig for your Coramoor,” Cadsuane continued, her voice still mild. All the figs in the world for the Dragon Reborn, but not one for the Coramoor. She did not alter her tone by a hair. “If you ever touch me again without permission, I will have you stripped, striped, bound and carried back to your rooms in a sack.” Well, diplomacy had never been her strongest point. “If you do not cease pestering me about your sister . . . Well, I might actually grow angry.” Standing, she ignored the Sea Folk woman’s indignant puffing and gaping and raised her voice to be heard at the end of the room. “Sarene!”
The slender Taraboner whirled from her embroidery, beaded braids clicking, and hurried to Cadsuane’s side, barely hesitating before spreading her dark gray skirts in a curtsy. The Wise Ones had had to teach them to leap when a Wise One spoke, but more than custom made them leap for her.
“Escort these two to their rooms,” Cadsuane commanded. “They wish to fast and meditate on civility. See that they do. And if they offer one uncivil word, spank them both. But be diplomatic about it.”
Sarene gave a start, half opening her mouth as if to protest the illogic of that, but one glance at Cadsuane’s face and she quickly turned to the Atha’an Miere women, gesturing for them to rise.
Harine sprang to her feet, her dark face hard and scowling. Before she could utter a word of her no doubt furious tirade, though, Derah touched her arm and leaned close to whisper into her ring-heavy ear behind a cupped hand covered with dark tattoos. Whatever the Sailmistress had to say, Harine closed her mouth. Her expression certainly did not soften, yet she eyed the sisters at the far end of the room and after a moment curtly motioned Sarene to lead the way. Harine might pretend that it was her decision to leave, but Derah followed so close on her heels she appeared to be herding her and shot an uneasy glance back over her shoulder before the door shut her from sight.
Cadsuane almost regretted giving that frivolous order. Sarene would do exactly as she had been told. The Sea Folk women were an irritant, and useless thus far, besides. The irritation must be removed so she could concentrate on what was important, and if she found a use for them, tools needed to be shaped one way or another. She was too angry with them to care how that was done, and it might as well begin now as later. No, she was angry with the boy, but she could not lay hands on him yet.
With a loud harrumph, Sorilea turned from watching Sarene and the Atha’an Miere go and directed her scowl at the sisters gathered at the end of the solar. Bracelets clattered on her wrists as she adjusted her shawl. Another woman not in her best temper. The Sea Folk had peculiar notions of “Aiel savages”—though in truth not that much stranger than some Cadsuane herself had believed before meeting Sorilea—and the Wise One did not like them a hair.
Cadsuane went to meet her with a smile. Sorilea was not a woman you made come to you. Everyone thought they were becoming friends—which they might yet, she realized in surprise—but no one knew of their alliance. Eben appeared with his tray, and appeared relieved when she set her half-empty goblet on it.
“Late last night,” Sorilea said as the red-coated boy hurried back to Daigian, “Chisaine Nurbaya asked to serve the Car’a’carn.” Disapproval lay heavy in her voice. “Before first light, Janine Pavlara asked, then Innina Darenhold, then Vayelle Kamsa. They had not been allowed to speak to one another. There could be no collusion. I accepted their pleas.”
Cadsuane made a vexed sound. “I suppose you already have them serving penance,” she murmured, thinking hard. Nineteen sisters had been prisoners in the Aiel camp, nineteen sisters sent by that fool Elaida to kidnap the boy, and now they all had sworn to follow him! These last were the worst. “What could make Red sisters swear fealty to a man who can channel?”
Verin began to make an observation, but fell silent for the Aiel woman. Strangely, Verin had taken to her own enforced apprenticeship like a heron to the marsh. She spent more time in the Aiel camp than out of it.
“Not penance, Cadsuane Melaidhrin.” Sorilea made a dismissive gesture with one sinewy hand in another rattle of gold and ivory bracelets. “They are attempting to meet toh that cannot be met. As foolish in its way as our naming them da’tsang in the first place, but perhaps they are not beyond redemption if they are willing to try,” she allowed grudgingly. Sorilea more than merely disliked those nineteen sisters. She gave a thin smile. “In any event, we will teach them much they need to learn.” The woman seemed to believe all Aes Sedai could do with time apprenticing under the Wise Ones.
“I hope you will continue to watch them all closely,” Cadsuane said. “Especially these last four.” She was sure they would keep that ridiculous oath, if not always in ways the boy would like, but there was always the possibility that one or two might be Black Ajah. Once she had thought herself on the point of rooting out the Black only to watch her quarry slip through her fingers like smoke, her bitterest failure except possibly for failing to learn what Caraline Damodred’s cousin had been up to in the Borderlands until the knowledge was years too late to do any good. Now, even the Black Ajah seemed a diversion from what was truly important.
“Apprentices are always watched closely,” the weathered woman replied. “I think I must remind these others to be grateful for being allowed to loll about like clan chiefs.”
The remaining four sisters in front of the fireplace rose with alacrity at her approach, made deep curtsies, and listened carefully to what she told them in a low voice with much finger shaking. Sorilea might think she had much to teach them, but they had already learned that an Aes Sedai shawl offered no protection to a Wise One’s apprentice. Toh seemed a great deal like penance to Cadsuane.
“She is . . . formidable,” Verin murmured. “I am very glad she is on our side. If she is.”
Cadsuane gave her a sharp look. “You have the appearance of a woman with something to say that you don’t want to. About Sorilea?” That alliance was very vaguely defined. Friendship or no friendship, she and the Wise One still might turn out to be aiming at different goals.
“Not that,” the stout little woman sighed. Despite a square face, tilting her head to one side made her look like a very plump sparrow. “I know it was not my business, Cadsuane, but Bera and Kiruna were getting nowhere with our guests, so I had a little talk alone with Shalon. After a little gentle questioning, she spilled out the whole story, and Ailil confirmed everything once she realized I already knew. Soon after the Sea Folk first arrived here, Ailil approached Shalon hoping to learn what they wanted with young al’Thor. For her part, Shalon wanted to learn whatever she could about him, and about the situation here. That led to meetings, which led to friendship, which led to them becoming pillow friends. As much from loneliness as anything else, I suspect. In any case, that was what they were hiding more than their mutual snooping.”
“They put up with days under the question to hide that?” Cadsuane said incredulously. Bera and Kiruna had had the pair howling!
Verin’s eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth. “Cairhienin are prim and prudish, Cadsuane, in public at least. They might carry on like rabbits when the curtains are drawn, but they wouldn’t admit to touching their own husbands if anyone might overhear! And the Sea Folk are almost as straitlaced. At least, Shalon is married to a man with duties elsewhere, and breaking marriage vows is a very serious crime. A breach of proper discipline, it seems. If her sister found out, Shalon would be—‘Windfinder on a rowboat,’ I think her exact words were.”
Cadsuane was aware of her hair ornaments swaying as she shook her head. When the two women had been discovered right after the attack on the Palace, bound and gagged and stuffed under Ailil’s bed, she had suspected they knew more of the attack than they were admitting. Once they refused to say why they had been meeting in secret, she was sure. Perhaps even that they were involved in some way, though the attack apparently was the work of renegade Asha’man. Supposedly renegade, at least. All that time and effort wasted on nothing. Or perhaps not quite nothing, if they were so desperate to keep things hidden.
“Return the Lady Ailil to her apartments with apologies for her treatment, Verin. Give her very . . . tenuous . . . assurances that her confidences will be kept. Be sure she is aware just how tenuous. And suggest strongly that she might wish to keep me abreast of anything she hears concerning her brother.” Blackmail was a tool she disliked using, but she had already used it on the three Asha’man, and Toram Riatin might still cause trouble even if his rebellion did seem to have evaporated. In truth, she cared little who sat on the Sun Throne, yet the plots and schemes of those who considered thrones important often had a way of interfering with more significant matters.
Verin smiled, her bun bobbing as she nodded. “Oh, yes, I think that will work very nicely. Especially since she dislikes her brother intensely. The same for Shalon, I suppose? Except that you will want to hear of events among the Atha’an Miere? I’m not certain how far she will betray Marine, no matter the consequences to herself.”
“She will betray what I require her to betray,” Cadsuane said grimly. “Keep her until tomorrow, late.” Harine must not be allowed to think for a moment that her demands were being met. The Sea Folk were another tool to be used on the boy, no more. Everyone and everything had to be viewed in that light.
Beyond Verin, Corele slipped into the sunroom and shut the door carefully behind her as if hoping not to disturb anyone. That was not her way. Boyishly slim, with thick black eyebrows and a mass of glossy black hair flowing down her back that gave her a wild appearance no matter how neat her clothes were, the Yellow was much more likely to sweep into a room laughing. Rubbing the end of her upturned nose, she looked at Cadsuane hesitantly, with none of the usual sparkle in her blue eyes.
Cadsuane made a peremptory gesture at her, and Corele drew a breath and glided across the carpets gripping her yellow-slashed blue skirts with both hands. Eyeing the sisters clustered around Sorilea at the far end of the room, and Daigian playing cat’s cradle with Eben at the other end, she spoke in a soft voice that carried the lilting accents of Murandy.
“I have the most wonderful news, Cadsuane.” By the sound other, she was not all certain how wonderful it was. “I know you said I should keep Damer busy here in the Palace, but he insisted on looking at the sisters still in the Aiel camp. Mild-tempered as he is, he’s very insistent when he wants to be, and sure as the sun there’s nothing can’t be Healed. And, well, the fact of it is, he’s gone and Healed Irgain. Cadsuane, it’s as if she’d never been . . . ” She trailed off, unable to say the word. It hung in the air even so. Stilled.
“Wonderful news,” Cadsuane said flatly. It was. Every sister carried the fear somewhere deep inside that she might be cut off from the Power. And now a way to Heal what could not be Healed had been discovered. By a man. There would be tears and recriminations before this was done with. In any case, while every sister who heard would consider it a world-shaking discovery—in more ways than one; a man!—it was a storm in a teacup compared to Rand al’Thor. “I suppose she is offering herself up to be beaten like the others?”
“She won’t need to,” Verin said absently. She was frowning at an inkstain on her finger, but she seemed to be studying something beyond. “The Wise Ones apparently decided that Rand had punished Irgain and the other two sufficiently when he . . . did what he did. At the same time they were treating the others like worthless animals, they have been working to keep those three alive. I heard talk about finding Ronaille a husband.”
“Irgain knows all about the oaths the others swore.” Corele’s voice took on tones of amazement. “She started weeping for the loss of her Warders almost as soon as Damer finished with her, but she’s ready to swear, too. The thing of it is, Damer wants to try with Sashalle and Ronaille, too.” Surprisingly, she drew herself up almost defiantly. She had always been as arrogant as any other Yellow, but she had always known where she stood with Cadsuane. “I can’t see letting a sister remain in that condition if there’s a way out, Cadsuane. I want to let Damer try his hand with them.”
“Of course, Corele.” It seemed some of Damer’s insistence was rubbing off on her. Cadsuane was willing to let that go, so long as it did not go too far. She had begun gathering sisters she trusted, those here with her and others, the day she first heard of strange events in Shienar—her eyes and ears had kept watch on Siuan Sanche and Moiraine Damodred for years without learning anything useful until then—yet just because she trusted them did not mean she intended to let them start going their own way. Too much lay at stake. But in any case, she could not leave a sister like that, either.
The door banged open to admit Jahar at a run, the silver bells on the ends of his dark braids jangling. Heads turned to look at the youth in the well-fitted blue coat Merise had chosen for him—even Sorilea and Sarene stared—but the words that came out of him in a rush drove away thoughts of how pretty his sun-dark face was.
“Alanna’s unconscious, Cadsuane. She just collapsed in the hallway. Merise had her taken to a bedchamber and sent me for you.”
Riding over exclamations of shock, Cadsuane gathered Corele and Sorilea—who could not be left behind in this—and ordered Jahar to lead the way. Verin came as well, and Cadsuane did not stop her. Verin had a way of noticing what others missed.
The black-liveried servants had no idea who or what Jahar was, but they stepped lively to get out of Cadsuane’s way as she walked quickly along behind him. She would have told him to be quicker about it, but any faster, and she would have had to run.  She had to stop for him.
“Grace favor you, Cadsuane Sedai,” he said smoothly, “Forgive me for bothering you when you are in such a hurry, but I thought I should tell you that the Lady Caraline and the High Lord Darlin are no longer in the Lady Arilyn’s palace. They are on a rivership bound for Tear. Beyond your reach by this time, I fear.”
“You might be surprised what is within my reach, Lord Dobraine,” she said in a cold voice. She should have left at least one sister at Arilyn’s palace, but she had been certain the pair was secure. “Was this wise?” She had no doubt it was his work, though she doubted he had the nerve to admit it. No wonder he had not pressed her over them.
Her tone made no impression on the fellow. And he surprised her. “The High Lord Darlin is to be the Lord Dragon’s Steward of Tear, and it did seem wise to send the Lady Caraline out of the country. She has foresworn her rebellion and her claims to the Sun Throne, but others still might try to use her. Perhaps, Cadsuane Sedai, it was unwise to leave them in the charge of servants. Under the Light, you must not hold them at fault. They were able to hold two . . . guests . . . but not to stand up to my armsmen.”
Jahar was all but dancing with anxiety to go on. Merise had a firm hand. Cadsuane herself was anxious to reach Alanna.
“I hope you have the same opinion in a year,” she said. Dobraine merely bowed.
The bedchamber where Alanna had been taken was the nearest that had been available, and it was not large, appearing smaller for the dark paneling that Cairhienin liked so much. It seemed quite crowded once everyone was inside. Merise snapped her fingers and pointed, and Jahar retreated to a corner, but that helped little.
 “She seems afraid to wake,” the tall, slender man said. “There’s nothing wrong with her that I can tell, but she seems afraid.”
Corele brushed him aside so she could cup Alanna’s face in her hands. The glow of saidar surrounded the Yellow, and the weave of Healing settled on Alanna, but the slim Green did not even twitch. Corele drew back, shaking her head.
“My skill with Healing, it may not equal yours, Corele,” Merise said dryly, “but I did try.” The accents of Tarabon were still strong in her voice after all these years, but she wore her dark hair drawn back severely from her stern face. Cadsuane trusted her perhaps more than any of the others. “What do we do now, Cadsuane?”
Sorilea stared at the woman stretched out on the bed with no expression beyond a thinning of her lips. Cadsuane wondered whether she was reevaluating their alliance. Verin was staring at Alanna, too, and she looked absolutely terrified. Cadsuane had not thought anything could frighten Verin that far. But she felt a thrill of terror herself. If she lost this connection to the boy now . . .
“We sit down and wait for her to wake,” she said in a calm voice. There was nothing else to do. Nothing.
“Where is he?” Demandred growled, clenching his fists behind his back. Standing with his feet apart, he was aware that he dominated the room. He always did. Even so, he wished Semirhage or Mesaana were present. Their alliance was delicate—a simple agreement that they would not turn on one another until the others had been eliminated—yet it had held all this time. Working together, they had unbalanced opponent after opponent, toppling many to their deaths or worse. But it was difficult for Semirhage to attend these meetings, and Mesaana had been shy, of late. If she was thinking of ending the alliance . . . “Al’Thor has been seen in five cities, including that cursed place in the Waste, and a dozen towns since those blind fools—those idiots!—failed in Cairhien. And that only includes the reports we have! The Great Lord only knows what else is crawling toward us by horse, or sheep, or whatever else these savages can find to carry a message.”
Graendal had chosen the setting, since she had been first to arrive, and it irritated him. View-walls made the striped wooden floor appear to be surrounded by a forest full of brightly flowered vines and fluttering birds that were even more colorful. Sweet scents and soft birdcalls filled the air. Only the arch of the doorway spoiled the illusion. Why did she want a reminder of what was lost? They could as soon make shocklances or sho-wings as a view-wall outside of this place, close to Shayol Ghul. In any case, she despised anything to do with nature, as he recalled.
Osan’gar frowned at “idiots” and “blind fools,” as well he might, but he quickly smoothed that plain, creased face, so unlike the one he had been born with. By whatever name he was called, he had always known who he dared challenge and who not. “A matter of chance,” he said calmly, though he did begin dry-washing his hands. An old habit. He was garbed like some ruler of this Age, in a coat so heavy with golden embroidery that it almost hid the red of the cloth, and boots fringed with golden tassels. There was enough white lace at his neck and wrists to clothe a child. The man had never known the meaning of excess. If not for his particular skills, he never would have been Chosen. Realizing what his hands were doing, Osan’gar snatched the tall cuendillar wineglass from the round table beside his chair and inhaled the dark wine’s aroma deeply. “Simply probabilities,” he murmured, trying to sound offhand. “Next time, he will be killed or taken. Chance can’t protect him forever.”
“You are going to depend on chance?” Aran’gar was stretched out in a long, flowing chair as though it were a bedchair. Directing a smoky smile at Osan’gar, she arched one leg on bare toes so the slit in her bright red skirts exposed her to the hip. Every breath threatened to free her from the red satin that just contained her full breasts. All of her mannerisms had changed since she became a woman, but not the core of what had been placed into that female body. Demandred hardly scorned fleshly pleasures, but one day her cravings would be the death of her. As they already had been once. Not that he would mourn, of course, if the next time was final. “You were responsible for watching him, Osan’gar,” she went on, her voice caressing every syllable. “You, and Demandred.” Osan’gar flinched, flicking his tongue against his lips, and she laughed throatily. “My own charge is . . . ” She pressed a thumb down on the edge of the chair as if pinning something and laughed again.
“I should think you would be more worried, Aran’gar,” Graendal murmured over her wine. She concealed her contempt about as well as the almost transparent silvery mist of her streith gown concealed her ripe curves. “You, and Osan’gar, and Demandred. And Moridin, wherever he is. Perhaps you should fear al’Thor’s success as much as his failure.”
Laughing, Aran’gar caught the standing woman’s hand in one of hers. Her green eyes sparkled. “And perhaps you could explain what you mean better if we were alone?”
Graendal’s gown turned to stark black concealing smoke. Jerking her hand free with a coarse oath, she stalked away from the chair. Aran’gar . . . giggled.
“What do you mean?” Osan’gar said sharply, struggling out of his chair. Once on his feet, he struck a lecturer’s pose, gripping his lapels, and his tone became pedantic. “In the first place, my dear Graendal, I doubt that even I could devise a method to remove the Great Lord’s shadow from saidin. Al’Thor is a primitive. Anything he tries inevitably will prove insufficient, and I, for one, cannot believe he can even imagine how to begin. In any event, we will stop him trying because the Great Lord commands it. I can understand fear of the Great Lord’s displeasure if we somehow failed, unlikely as that might be, but why should those of us you named have any special fear?”
“Blind as ever, and dry as ever,” Graendal murmured. With the return of composure, her gown was clear mist again, though red. Perhaps she was not so calm as she pretended. Or perhaps she wanted them to believe she was controlling some agitation. Except for the streith, her adornments all came from this age, firedrops in her golden hair, a large ruby dangling between her breasts, ornate golden bracelets on both wrists. And something quite strange, that Demandred wondered whether anyone else had noticed. A simple ring of gold on the little finger of her left hand. Simple was never associated with Graendal. “If the young man does somehow remove the shadow, well . . . You who channel saidin will no longer need the Great Lord’s special protection. Will he trust your . . . loyalty . . . then?” Smiling, she sipped her wine.
Osan’gar did not smile.  Aran’gar sat up on the edge of her long chair, no longer trying to be sensuous. Her hands formed claws on her lap, and she glared at Graendal as if ready to go to her throat.
Demandred’s fists unclenched. It was out in the open at last. He had hoped to have al’Thor dead—or failing that, captive—before this suspicion reared its head. During the War of Power, more than a dozen of the Chosen had died of the Great Lord’s suspicion.
“The Great Lord is sure you are all faithful,” Moridin announced, striding in as though he were the Great Lord of the Dark himself. He had often seemed to believe he was, and the boy’s face he wore now had not changed that. In spite of his words, that face was grim, and his unrelieved black made his name, Death, fit. “You need not worry until he stops being sure.” The girl, Cyndane, trotted at his heels like a bosomy little silver-haired pet in red-and-black.  Or for no reason, perhaps. A youthful face had not made him any saner, either.
“Why have you called us here?” Demandred demanded. “I have much to do, and no time for idle talk.” Unconsciously he tried to stand taller, to match the other man.
“Mesaana is absent again?” Moridin said instead of answering. “A pity. She should hear what I have to say.” Plucking the rat from his shoulder by its tail, he watched the animal wave its legs futilely. Nothing except the rat seemed to exist for him. “Small, apparently unimportant matters can become very important,” he murmured. “This rat. Whether Isam succeeds in finding and killing that other vermin, Fain. A word whispered in the wrong ear, or not spoken to the right. A butterfly stirs its wings on a branch, and on the other side of the world a mountain collapses.” Suddenly the rat twisted, trying to sink its teeth into his wrist. Casually, he flung the creature away. In midair, there was a burst of flame, something hotter than flame, and the rat was gone. Moridin smiled.
Demandred flinched in spite of himself. That had been the True Power; he had felt nothing. A black speck floated across Moridin’s blue eyes, then another, in a steady stream. The man must have been using the True Power exclusively since he last saw him to gain so many saa so quickly. He himself had never touched the True Power except at need. Great need. Of course, only Moridin had that privilege now, since his . . . anointing. The man truly was insane to use it so freely. It was a drug more addictive than saidin, more deadly than poison.
Crossing the striped floor, Moridin laid a hand on Osan’gar’s shoulder, his smile made more ominous by the saa. The shorter man swallowed, and gave a wavering smile in return. “It is well you’ve never considered how to remove the Great Lord’s shadow,” Moridin said quietly. How long had he been outside? Osan’gar’s smile grew even more sickly. “Al’Thor is not as wise as you. Tell them, Cyndane.”
 By face and form she was a luscious plum, ready for plucking, but her big blue eyes were glacial. A peach, perhaps. Peaches were poisonous, here and now. “You recall the Choedan Kal, I suppose.” No amount of effort could make that low, breathy voice anything except sultry, but she managed to inject sarcasm. “Lews Therin has two of the access keys, one for each. And he knows a woman strong enough to use the female of the pair. He plans to use the Choedan Kal for his deed.”
Nearly everyone began to talk at once.
“I thought the keys were all destroyed!” Aran’gar exclaimed, surging to her feet. Her eyes were wide with fear. “He could shatter the world just trying to use the Choedan Kal!”
“If you had ever read anything besides a history book, you would know they’re almost impossible to destroy!” Osan’gar snarled at her.  “How can this girl know he has them? How?”
Graendal’s wineglass had dropped from her hand as soon the words were out of Cyndane’s mouth, bouncing end over end across the floor. Her gown turned as crimson as fresh blood, and her mouth twisted as if she were going to vomit. “And you’ve just been hoping to blunder into him!” she screamed at Demandred. “Hoping someone will find him for you! Fool! Fool!”
Demandred thought Graendal had been a touch flamboyant even for her. He would wager the announcement had been no surprise to her. It seemed she bore watching. He said nothing.
Putting a hand over his heart, for all the world like a lover, Moridin tilted up Cyndane’s chin on his fingertips.  She certainly accepted his attentions like a pliable doll. “Cyndane knows many things,” Moridin said softly, “and she tells me everything she knows. Everything.” The tiny woman’s expression never altered, but she trembled visibly.
She was a puzzle to Demandred. At first he had thought she was Lanfear reincarnated. Bodies for transmigration supposedly were chosen by what was available, yet Osan’gar and Aran’gar were proof of the Great Lord’s cruel sense of humor. He had been sure, until Mesaana told him the girl was weaker than Lanfear. Mesaana and the rest thought she was of this Age. Yet she spoke of al’Thor as Lews Therin, just as Lanfear had, and spoke of the Choedan Kal as one familiar with the terror they had inspired during the War of Power. Only balefire had been more feared, and only just. Or had Moridin taught her for purposes of his own? If he had any real purposes. There had always been times when the man’s actions had been sheer madness.
“So it seems he must be killed after all,” Demandred said. Hiding his satisfaction was not easy. Rand al’Thor or Lews Therin Telamon, he would rest easier when the fellow was dead. “Before he can destroy the world, and us. Which makes finding him all the more urgent.”
“Killed?” Moridin moved his hands as though weighing something. “If it comes to that, yes,” he said finally. “But finding him is no problem. When he touches the Choedan Kal, you will know where he is. And you will go there and take him. Or kill him, if necessary. The Nae’blis has spoken.”
“As the Nae’blis commands,” Cyndane said eagerly, bowing her head, and echoes of her ran around the room, though Aran’gar sounded sullen, Osan’gar desperate, and Graendal oddly thoughtful.
Bending his neck hurt Demandred as much as speaking those words. So they would take al’Thor—while he was trying to use the Choedan Kal, no less, he and some woman drinking enough of the One Power to melt continents!—but there had been no indication that Moridin would be with them. Or his twin pets, Moghedien and Cyndane. The man was Nae’blis for now, but perhaps matters could be arranged so he did not get another body the next time he died. Perhaps it could be arranged soon.


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Doctor Who Tribute Page
The best and longest running sci-fi show on television!
- The show first aired in 1963. Since the show is still running that makes it the longest running science fiction show in history.
- The Doctor actually is a doctor! In a sickbay in the 1967 story The Moonbase, the Doctor was asked, "Listen, are you really a medical doctor?" He replied, "Yes, I think I was once, Polly. I think I took a degree once in Glasgow. 1888 I think. Lister."
- The character of the Doctor was partly inspired by Sherlock Holmes. Comparisons have been made between the Doctor and the fictional detective. In fact both the fourth and eleventh Doctors have dressed up as Sherlock Holmes in episodes of Doctor Who.
- The original pilot episode, which was thought to be lost forever, was rediscovered in 1978 in a mislabelled film can.
- Both Peter Capaldi (the twelfth Doctor) and David Tennant (the tenth Doctor) were huge fans of Doctor Who growing up. David Tennant's nan even knitted him a scarf like the fourth Doctor's, and Peter Capaldi regularly sent letters, and essays into the Doctor Who production office, and wanted to run the Doctor Who fan Club.
- The acronym stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space, and is The Doctor's chosen mode of transport for travelling through time. It is also bigger on the inside than on the outside.
- The Fourth Doctor's iconic scarf was created by accident. The costume maker misunderstood her instructions for the scarf and knitted all the wool she had been given. However, Tom Baker liked the overly-long scarf, and went on to wear it for the show anyway.
- Tapes of the early episodes were codenamed Torchwood - an anagram of Doctor Who - to protect them from being stolen. The name was then an obvious choice for the later spin-off series.
- One of the most sought-after lost episodes is part four of the last William Hartnell serial, The Tenth Planet (1966), which ends with the First Doctor transforming into the Second. The only portion of this in existence, barring a few poor-quality silent 8 mm clips, is the few seconds of the regeneration scene, as it was shown on the children's magazine show Blue Peter.[74] With the approval of the BBC, efforts are now under way to restore as many of the episodes as possible from the extant material.
- The show was origionaly created to be educational. The first two human companions of the Docter were a history and science teacher. If the episode took place on another planet it was a science lesson. If it took place in the past it was a history lesson. It became so popular among science fiction fans that the focus was shifted away from education as the primary reason.
A list of some interesting and fun facts about Doctor Who!
"One day, I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine."
--The first Doctor to his niece Susan--


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NHS boss earning £300,000 a year claims back £149 parking ticket on expenses
EXCLUSIVE: Siobhan McArdle made the South Tees NHS Foundation Trust cough up £149 for her parking ticket - while staff are forced to pay to park when they went to work
by Alan Selby, https://www.facebook.com/dailymirror/A HOSPITAL boss paid more than £300,000 a year billed her own health trust for £149 after being slapped with parking fines.
Ex-CEO Siobhan McArdle submitted the claim as staff at South Tees NHS Foundation Trust forked out £1.9million to park at work during 2018-19.
The expense claim emerged after Ms McArdle quit following an inspection which labelled intensive care “inadequate”. The Trust runs James Cook University Hospital in Middlesbrough and other sites.
In an email to staff, Ms McArdle – who pocketed nearly £53,000 in overtime on top of her £250,000 salary last year – complained “life is too short” to carry on in her post.
Unite regional officer Neil Howells said: “Siobhan McArdle’s email to committed and hardworking staff was crass enough.
“Most of the workforce don’t have the luxury to quit on a whim and have suffered years of unsustainable workloads and stagnant pay.
“To also claim back fines, when the rest of the workforce forked out to park at work, is just rank hypocrisy.”
The Trust said it settled the expense claim in error and would be pursuing Ms McArdle for the amount paid. She has insisted the fines were disputed and incurred while she was on work duties – so she was entitled to claim for them.
It is believed the fines were issued in February 2019 and October 2016, for fixed penalties in Leeds and at the Radisson Blu Hotel in Durham.
In her email, Ms McArdle said she “remained true to values, vision and high levels of integrity”, adding: “However, the personal cost of being CEO is just too high and life is just too short.”
The row comes as staff are fighting increases to car park permit costs – amid calls for charges to be axed all together. The Trust said it will “seek to recover any payments reimbursed in error.”
Ms McArdle said: “Any expenses were in line with Trust policy and supported by receipts. The fines relate to parking fine disputes and in both instances the Trust took responsibility for resolving these as I was clearly on Trust business.”


A Science-Fiction Omnibus
Editor: Brian Aldiss, 2007
A collection of short stories from 1941 to 2006. Most of my favourites in here are ones I've already read before: Asimov's Nightfall, Bear's Blood Music, Aldiss' own Poor Little Warrior!
Of the ones that are new to me, not many seemed to have much appeal. A few nicely crafted exceptions are worthy of special mention: Ward Moore's Lot, a tale of a family 's departure from home in the station wagon as civilisation ends around them; James Tiptree's And I Awoke and Found Me Here on the Cold Hill's Side, a tragic and visceral vision of humanity's emotional and charismatic failings amongst the sleek, sophisticated races of the galaxy.
Amongst the others, there are instances where the collection's vintage lets it down, ideas that were once exciting and cutting edge, which have been dulled by the passage of time and events, to expose the lackluster writing beneath. Multiple tales of supreme computers achieving godhood, for better or for worse. Tales of malfunctioning machinery that barely held my interest.
Great Work of Time
Imagine, then, my surprise, when the final story of the collection, John Crowley's Great Work of Time, of which I have never heard until now, turned out to be an absolute triumph. 75 pages of beautifully crafted prose, all by itself it is easily worth the cost of this collection, and a more than worthy reward for the time and effort of reading all the other stories in it.
This final story is yet-another-novel-take on time-travel - at once bold and understated, a nostalgic and wistful story of alternate histories and the motives of the people charged with affecting the critical junctures of human civilisation. An exquisitely crafted scene lies embedded within the story's amber perfection, in which Cecil Rhodes' 23 year-old would-be assassin is recruited for the job by none other than his elderly self, who persuades with a moving and cathartic retelling of how the events in question went for him. The reader at this point is already steeped in the bitter-sweet consequences that the outcome will have for each of their lives, for the mysterious organisation under who's auspices they act, for the British Empire's fading hopes of uniting the world under a single banner versus the looming spectre of future World Wars - it is so poignant and well constructed and performed that I immediately went back and read the whole story over again.
Rating 9/10, if you only read the last story in the book. Diluted otherwise.
Update: A Great Work of Time is available as a stand-alone 75 page book on Amazon Kindle for £2.99, and Calibre with the DeDRM plugin will convert this into an epub which can be read on any device.


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Booking History
If you have any questions, please either email Sarah Howarth at<EMAIL_ADDRESS>or a member of the forum.
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1,000 miles of wonder
I'm a thing. But, like most politicians, he promised more than he could deliver. You won't have time for sleeping, soldier, not with all the bed making you'll be doing. Then we'll go with that data file! Hey, you add a one ore two zeros to that or we walk! You're going to do his laundry? I've got to find a way to escape.


ROSA LUXEMBOURG (1986) A film review by Edwin Jahiel Copyright 1996 Edwin Jahiel
ROSA LUXEMBURG *** 1/2 (Germany,1986) Written and directed by Margarethe von Trotta. Cinematography,Franz Rath. Editing,Dagmar Hirtz.Sound, Christian Moldt.Art direction, Bernd Lepel,Karel Vacek.Costumes,Monika Hasse.Music,Nicolas Economou. Producer,Eberhard Junkersdorf. Cast: Barbara Sukowa,Daniel Olbrychski, Otto Sander,et al. A Bioskop Film-Munic production.In German (and some Polish)with subtitles.122 minutes. No rating.
High-quality German cinema and transfixing history combine beautifully in ROSA LUXEMBURG, a film I recommend highly. It covers mainly the crucial years 1898-1919 of "Red Rosa"'s life, when the Polish-born political activist, heroine and martyr of the Social Democrats, lived mostly in Germany.
On January 15, 1919, Rosa and her comrade Karl Liebknecht were murdered by Freikorps troops of--ironically--the new Social Democrat German Republic. Arguably, they were the first victims of the Nazi system to come.
Rosa was an idealist and a purist, intransigent in politics and love. She was a spellbinding orator, an indefatigable worker, speechmaker and writer, a firebrand who tolerated no timorousness, personal or ideological compromises or political cliches. Prison was a way of life for her--she was jailed nine times.
Margarethe von Trotta's film should fascinate all those who are interested in cinema that deals with big issues which--like this work--even transcend their main subject. And Rosa Luxemburg is a very tricky subject to handle. Today's standards are infinitely more exacting than the old ones of barefaced propaganda (e.g. films made under the Third Reich) or the old Hollywood biographies with their sentimentalities, heroics,simplifications and feeble-minded manicheism.
Now films like ROSA must re-invent the genre, case by case. Director Von Trotta does this excellently, balancing dangerously between documentarism and fiction, between personality and the wider historical context.
Rosa was so active and complex that any single film on her must be selective. On my second viewing of ROSA in 20 months, I found the film's presentation of its intense heroine and its political background even more entrancing than the first time. There is enough here to feed a miniseries.
Before the movie came out, Von Trotta said :" I have collected so much material that I could make two more films....Some historians will find my film very incomplete. It wasn't my aim to create a work of history but a portrait of Rosa. But I feel that for all the people who don't know her, the film will help them discover her. Rosa is used in the East as in the West. In West Germany, the stamp showing her portrait was unacceptable to the public. In the East they use her for political ends and play down her opposition to Lenin."
Curiously, historians did not object to the film. Only a few "instant-expert" reviewers criticized some of the movie's liberties--specifically the death of Kostia Zetkin, Rosa's lover and the son of her friend Clara Zetkin--when in actuality it was Hans Diefenbach, Kostia's successor, who was killed in World War II.
The big--and perhaps only--love of Rosa's life was Leo Jogiches (played with sober presence by Daniel Olbrychski), who, even after he was rejected by Rosa because he had cheated on her, remained her collaborator.
Neither Jogiches nor anyone else from the movie's Who's Who among the Social Democrats has a foreground role in ROSA. Wisely, Ms. von Trotta has concentrated on her central figure without diluting her two hours of Rosa with efforts to fill in details of Karl Liebknecht, Karl and Luise Kautsky, Clara Zetkin, August Bebel, Jean Jaures, and the other, by now legendary, political figures of the period.
Nonetheless, they are all there. By making every moment of their screen presence count in a forceful way, those activists are woven into history without being merely supporting cast. But it is, of course, Rosa who dominates the film, both by the way the script is written and through Barbara Sukowa's superb performance. She won the Best Actress Award at the 1986 Cannes Festival.
Luxemburg-Sukowa is a true believer in the people, above parties and systems; she is a figure of utter resilience, passionate yet lucid; she is a woman deeply conscious of art, literature, and of nature (in contemporary German terms she would be both a Red and a Green). Rosa is also a woman of abnegation who suffers for others but not for herself.
Of her approximately 2,500 letters that von Trotta studied, one, addressed to Sophie Liebknecht, describes in Rosa's wonderfully touching prose the mistreating of a wagon-pulling ox by a soldier in Rosa's prison yard.

The writer-director originally tried to find a bilingual (German-Polish) as well as Jewish actress for the part . She was unable to do so. It was a stroke of luck, as she turned to Barbara Sukowa, who, although she looks nothing like the real Rosa, has absorbed her personality magnificently. She even learned Polish and uses a slight Polish accent in her German.
Rosa's Jewishness is not stressed in the movie. This is not an avoidance reaction on the part of Ms. von Trotta, but because at the time the intellectual Jews were totally assimilated into the German mainstream. Furthermore, Rosa herself had a world view of her mission, which precluded any feelings of nationalism or ethnicity. On the other hand, the predominance of Jews in the SPD (German Socialist Party) is obvious in the film.
The movie is one of much talk and dialectics, of considerable excitement if you are in the least curious about history. There are uncanny relevancies to our own day--not only to the situation in the Germany of the 1980s but also in Rosa's resounding, pacifist speeches.
Perhaps the most poignant moment of this hearfelt film is the 1914 defection of socialists, all over Europe. Initially they resisted the coming war. Alas, pressures, conformism and chauvinism led to a mass betrayal of principles, of logic and of sanity. It happened in Germany, it also happened in other countries. The door to the madness and tragedy of the guns of August was open.
Remarkable too is ROSA's powerful feminism--but not in the usual sense. Rosa herself was impatient with it and delegated this particular struggle to others. The feminism lies in the way that the movie's Rosa, though given a great deal of femininity, is not for a moment thought or spoken of as a woman, a female or an exception, whether within or without the socialist circles.
The question of sexism never comes up. The way von Trotta puts us before a moral-social given of equality and non-discrimination, the way it flows so naturally, ennobles, in this respect, the socialists of all hues, even those who were Rosa's ideological adversaries. We have not progressed much in one full century.
[Note: Review written Nov.20,87. A third, recent screening of the film changes nothing of its quality and validity].
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