#Photo lab New Jersey

[gelatinlabs]

How do photo labs in New Jersey offer advanced printing services?

Many photo labs in New Jersey employ the best technology and innovation and offer unique services for your prints. These labs provide various sophisticated printing services that one needs for their photography business or fun, from professional photographers to firms. Photo lab New Jersey should boast of its ability to provide excellent quality photos and impeccable details. There are also many available options for selecting the profile's glossy, matte, or satin finished appearance to the client's preference. For people interested in displaying the photos differently, custom canvas and metal prints remain the most famous.

Metal prints

Canvas prints have an artist-appealing look, making them suitable for home or even office décor. On the same note as canvas prints, metal prints have a more contemporary outlook and highly improved durability and colors. Most photo labs offer re-size and framing services to their clients to enable them to make lovely wall hangings. These items can be especially appropriate as gifts for birthdays, anniversaries, or any other holidays. Due to customizable services, customers can place text, select filters, and choose more individualistic layouts.

Large-format

For businesses and artists, large-format and exemplary art printing services are a must-have. This is because photo labs use archival qualities to develop the prints, making them quality enough for exhibition purposes or publicity. Some of the other facilities that most photo labs in New Jersey provide include printing and digital services, which range from photo restoration to retouching. By integrating innovation with modernization, it is able to continue offering premium quality printing solutions to people of different professions and everyday consumers. 

Comprehensive film processing

New York is a city for photography lovers, and it develops films and offers services to both amateur and professional people. Having developed a solid appreciation for analog photographs, this city has been full of comprehensive solutions to meet the differences in needs in film labs. Film labs, mainly located in New York, specialize in developing various kinds of film. They also provide push and pull processing for altering the film exposure, either for creative effects or in challenging lighting conditions.

Print services

Film development New York provides professional-grade print services. The customer can request either a traditional photographic print or an enlargement to show off his work. Printouts can also be styled and printed in glossy, matte, and fine art paper for aesthetic use. Some film labs also provide high-resolution scanning services. This allows photographers to digitize their negatives and slides. Scans are useful for archiving, uploading online, or digital editing. Labs provide various scan quality levels - regular, standard, and premium based on the customer's resolution level requirement and file type.

Restoration

In addition to transferring existing film, restoration, and archiving services are available for those whose film has aged or been damaged. Even scratches, fading, and other forms of deterioration can be corrected using specialized techniques to salvage memorabilia. Archiving services ensure that negatives remain safely stored for later release. Excellent results are achieved when traditional techniques meet modern standards at the film development labs of New York.

[sunshine-theseus]

Photo Roulette | Chloe Kelly x Reader

Words: 1.6k Summary: Media day has Chloe finally revealing her relationship. Warnings: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes (I know degrees like PhDs take super long but for the sake of this story please either pretend they don’t, or that she is super smart and managed to cut the time in like half.) Requested by - @charligrantismygirlfriend

After graduating from Oxford with a bachelor’s degree and PhD in Cellular and Molecular Biochemistry, I made the move to Manchester as a clinical biochemist. Falling in love with a professional footballer was not on my list of things to do when I moved, but when a new work colleague insisted I take their extra ticket to a “derby match” as they called it, I took the chance to broaden my non-existent Manchester social circle.

And somehow, I caught the eye of the blonde forward. The number 9 jersey found it’s way into my hand with a signature and phone number and by 7pm that night, I had a date set up.

We went on a few before Chloe and I made anything official. And with making it official, came a set list of rules regarding our relationship and her work, number one was that it didn’t exist to fans. Well, it did, but no one would know who the mystery girl was. It was a tough rule to follow, it meant whenever we hung out, we had to be hyperaware of our levels of affection and what we discussed. Dates had to be at home or in a very secluded corner of a high-end restaurant with a name no one knows how to pronounce, because that means no one there would care who we are.

I was, and forever will be grateful that those places weren’t an issue for us. Both with rather lucrative professions, my starting salary slowly increasing the longer I stay, and her’s naturally growing with the popularity of the game. It also meant it was easier for us to find a more private area to buy a house, 1 ½ years without a single issue of fans knocking on the door or press waiting for some big news story to break. The perfect paradise.

No one knew who the famous Chloe Kelly is dating and had no way of finding out. Until media day.

-

“Have fun! I won’t be finished at the lab until late, so maybe we’ll get takeaway for dinner?” I kiss Chloe goodbye as I pick up my keys and bag from beside the door.

“For sure! Have a good day staring at cells. At least it’s not jail cells.” I chuckle and make my way out.

My day is in fact consumed with studying pathogens within blood and other bodily fluid. It’s nearly 6pm when Filipa taps me on the shoulder, breaking my concentration and reintroducing me to my surroundings. She helps me pack everything away, we say our farewells and I head home, picking up a vegetarian pizza on the way.

“How was media day?” I ask, plopping down on the couch next to Chloe, who rests her arm around my shoulders.

“Bloody weird as usual. I did this “go through your phone” thing, but it was all good fun. I did some mini games with Yui as well. She wants us to come over for dinner again sometime.”

“Absolutely. I miss her oh my god.” I take a bite of the pizza and rest my head on her shoulder, images on the telly flashing in front of us, neither one paying attention.

“How was your day at the lab Dr Spencer Reid?”

“You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again?”

“Mhm.”

“Spencer and I are two different types of doctors.”

“Mmhm.”

“I mean we both have the honorifics but his is like, not the same. Well it is but… never mind.” I can see Chloe’s lip twitch upward as I try to explain and lightly nudge her.

“I love listening to you get defensive about your title. You deserve it more than anyone in the world.” Her lips press gently to my hairline, then to my cheek, and finally land on my own lips.

“Plus, I love calling you doctor, it’s kind of hot.” My face flushes and I smack her arm.

“Behave!”

“Sorry… doctor.” To make it brief, the night didn’t end there. It ended much, much later, with both of us panting, the cotton sheets covering her soft skin while I splash my face with water in the ensuite.

~~~~~

I don’t give the results of Chloe’s media day another thought for a very long time. Until a month later when Fillipa, in similar fashion to the day of filming said content, breaks me from my work and places her phone on the desk in front of me.

I give her a rather confused look, but she just points to the screen and presses play.

“Well, the next part of Unlocked is one of my favourite bits; Photo Roulette.” The guy who sits next to Chloe explains the rules.

“Fillipa what is this?”

“Just keep watching.” I watch as Chloe scrolls through the thousands of photos stored on her phone, until he tells her to stop.

Her finger lands on a photo, one that no one can see yet, and she lets out a hearty laugh.

“’S it a good one?” he claps his hands together and waits to see the results. There are a few moments of silence before Chloe explains the picture, showing it to the host.

“It’s a picture of my girlfriend, Y/n. I was trying to teach her football and she comes out in this goofy old kit of mine that’s like 4 sizes too big for either of us, socks rolled all the way up with a huge grin on her face.” The smile that shines on Chloe’s face as she recounts that day makes it hard for me to feel the anger boiling in the pit of my stomach. The picture shows up on screen, taking up the whole space, and now the secret is revealed to everyone who we worked so hard to hide it from.

“Is this the secret girlfriend you’ve been hiding the identity of for over 2 years? You finally decided it’s time.” He lets out a laugh after the comment, but I can see the recognition in her eyes and the smile fades from her face. She doesn’t say anything.

It takes me 32 minutes on average, to drive home. On any other day. But when I get into the car, I have to decide whether I should take significantly longer, or cut the time in half, to confront my girlfriend with my findings.

I arrive home at 5:21. With the combination of leaving work a few minutes early, and the somehow blessed lack of traffic, it’s nearly 15 minutes earlier than usual.

“You’re home early!” a cheerful shout echoes down the hall, blissfully unaware of the rage bubbling beneath my skin.

“Just thought I’d get home before the fans tracked me down and swarmed me.” I seethe through my teeth as I kick off my shoes and make my way toward our bedroom.

“What d’you mean?” it’s almost precious, the confused look and the head tilt that greets me.

“Well now that everyone knows who I am, I didn’t want to risk being seen.” I see the moment of realisation.

“Oh fuck I completely forgot! I didn’t mean to I swear. I’m so sorry it just slipped out.”

“How do you slip up like that Chlo? That was our one agreement, our one rule. Fans would not know. God I’ve seen how cruel people are to player’s partners, I’ve seen couples break up because of fans. Chloe what the fuck!” I fall forward onto the bed and scream into the pillows.

“Well you never asked how I feel about having to hide my girlfriend from everyone! I get you want privacy and security of fans not knowing but I want to be able to celebrate with you after wins, or just rest in your arms after a loss, without worrying if someone will see. I want to be able to take you to big games and pull you onto the pitch and kiss you in front of everyone and show them how much I love you. It’s not fair that I have to pretend you mean nothing!” A tear leaks from my eye, and I soon start to sob. My shoulders shake and I can feel the puddle of tears get soaked up by the pillow.

I feel the dip of the bed beside me and Chloe’s arm wraps around me while her lips press light kisses against my back.

“I’m sorry. I want to be there for you too. Show the world I love you. I’m just scared. I’ve never really been seen by people outside of academics. I’m scared to just… be seen.” I roll over and pull Chloe down to rest her head against my chest, running my hands through her hair, untangling the small knots.

“I will love you no matter what. If you decide to continue keeping it private or if you, break up with me.”

“Chloe I will not fucking break up with you. I think- I think I want people to know. I want to love you properly.” Her head tilts up and I lean down, pressing a kiss to her lips.

~~~~~

“Chloe Kelly takes a shot… AND IT GOES IN. SHE SCORES THE WINNER IN THE 92ND MINUTE!!” I yell from the friends and family section as Chloe practices shots in front of me.

She turns dramatically toward me with a glare on her face, but I poke out my tongue and she breaks out into a smile. She makes the short jog over to me and pulls me into a kiss. A rather passionate one if you want to be specific. I grab her by the shirt and pull her close, kissing her harder as people around us jokingly cheer.

“See you after the game baby.” she pecks my lips once more before running back to her teammates who clap her on the back and tease her.

“That’s my girlfriend!” I scream and point, and the same people laugh along with me.

Thank god for media day.

[luvmmarner]

Mitch Marner - Happier

This is one of the older works of mine, so my writing style is pretty different. It's a reupload since it was just gone for some reason. TW: not much but heartbreak. PART OF THE SOUR SERIES

ᴡᴇ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ ᴀɢᴏ

ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ

ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴏɴ, ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ɴᴇᴡ

ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡʜᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ

You and Mitch called it quits after being together for a little over a year, it was something that was going to happen at some point. But you didn’t think it was going to happen so soon, not even a day before you broke up he said he loved you. Your relationship wasn’t exactly ‘toxic’ but you both argued on almost everything. It was certainly unhealthy and you couldn’t deny that. 

Right after the breakup, you didn’t know what to do. You had friends from the other guys' girlfriends, but even then they weren’t the friends you could entirely trust. You had no clue that Mitch moved on until they told you. 

You didn’t believe it at first. How could he move on so quickly, after being together for well over a year. It was then you started to believe after clicking on stories of the team girlfriends that you did believe. Even though you were hurt and broken you hoped that this new girl brought out the better in him.

ʙᴜᴛ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ, ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ

ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ?

You’ve been creeping their instagrams more specifically his new girl that you later found out was named ‘Lyla’. There was no doubt she was pretty, her instagrams were flunked with pictures of them. There were constant articles as well saying how she was so sweet and Mitch even agreed on an interview saying ‘how lucky he was’. 

It was like he forgot about you. You weren’t even mentioned in any of his interviews. The interviewers were all focused on her and so was Mitch. You couldn’t recall the amount of times you broke down after that. You couldn’t hold your tears anymore.

ᴏʜ, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ

ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ

ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴇʟꜰɪꜱʜ, ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ

It’s been 2 months since you and him broke up. Even if you did wish for him to be happy, you loved him. But you also wished that it was you instead of her. You knew that could never happen, you guys could never happen again. You didn’t want him to be unhappy like how he was when he was with you. 

He looked so much happier. But it was hard to still get over the fact that you two broke up. You knew it was selfish. You were being selfish. Even after so much time passed you still couldn’t let him go. You didn’t even make any attempts at letting go and moving on. You just couldn’t.

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ

ɪ ᴡɪꜱʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ

ꜱᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜᴇʀ, ʙᴀʙʏ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ

ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴏɴᴅʟʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘɪᴇʀ

The last straw that made you move on was a photo of his hands wrapped around her, both of them were smiling and looked so happy. Your body hoped that he would think about you whenever he touches her. But your mind was constantly thinking if he was happy, just not happier.

After a while you found yourself moving back to your home town montreal. You didn’t want to see the jerseys of the Toronto maple leafs, especially marner’s jersey. It always felt like a stab in the back. So you moved.

You also got a new dog named Fluffy, a brown chocolate lab. She comforted you every time you had a breakdown which was pretty rare ever since she laid beside you. As you laid in your bed, you decided you wanted to end things off in a good way. So you opened your phone and sent one last text. 

"I wish you all the best really"

[scentofsteam]

Get to know us!

Scent of Steam is a two person band from Pennsylvania, USA. Formed by Dawn, they play most instruments, write all music and lyrics, and mix each song in a home studio. Adam is the drummer and manager. A mix of industrial, rock and synth, there are several influences for their music. Adam and Dawn grew up listening to not only their favorite bands, but also played a lot of video games. From that, they've drawn quite a bit of inspiration from a wide range of video game soundtracks. Their most popular song is Dialing for an Answer, which has been described as "[…] dark, brooding, yet still fun." by Gabby Lang from The Weekender.

The Band

Born and raised in Northeast Pennsylvania, Dawn is a former physics major who decided to leave the prospects of a lab environment for the music stage. They had little to no prior experience with music beforehand. Without knowing how to play much guitar, and only having a usb mic with no amp, they made their first demo of Nothing I Could Say in December 2019 at 3:30am and never looked back.

Adam originally hails from South New Jersey, but decided to move up to PA to live with Dawn after knowing each other online for 6 years. With a ton of energy to expend and inspired by his favorite bands, Adam drew an interest in the drums. Once Dawn had made the demo for Nothing I Can Say, he was on board. Also having a robust background in business, he took up reigns as manager of the band.

Left: Dawn rehearsing at Encore Studios in Dickson City, PA Right: Adam during the August 2024 Oddities Fair liveshow in Forty Fort, PA

Having only released their first album in April 2023, they have already garnered some attention. Here's a list of a few of their accomplishments so far.

Dialing for an Answer was featured on the Locals block of the rock station 979X

Scent of Steam was announced as the featured artist for 979X in August 2024

Scent of Steam was featured in the Weekender in August 2024

Their music is in multiple stores in PA, including Gallery of Sound in Wilkes-Barre, PA and Main Street Jukebox in Stroudsburg, PA

Nominated for "Best New Artist" in the 2024 Steamtown Music Awards

Music

Scent of Steam's Studio Album Transmute

Lyrics video for Scent of Steam's single, The Tower

Photos

Socials and Contact

Instagram Facebook X

For any inquiries please contact scentofsteam@gmail.com

[greenlantern94to04]

Green Lantern #51 (May 1994)

At last, after months of hype, we've finally reached the official debut of DC's sensational character find of 1994: Ohm! You know, Ohm? The guy who fights (and almost beats) Kyle Rayner in this issue?

Oh yeah, and as of this issue, Kyle Rayner is officially named "Kyle Rayner" and not "the rando who got Hal Jordan's ring."

But, before getting his ass kicked by Ohm, the first thing Kyle does with the ring he got in Green Lantern #50 is visit his ex-girlfriend, Alex, who at first assumes this is some practical joke. I guess she's used to Kyle showing up at her door in the middle of the night wearing tight-fitting costumes? Kyle insists that this is real and explains that he got the power ring from a blue little person in a red dress who materialized in an alley, only he doesn't say "little person."

Apparently, Kyle is a bit immature and irresponsible (hence the "ex-" in "ex-girlfriend"), and his job as a freelance artist doesn't seem to be going anywhere, but he thinks the ring represents a chance to get his shit together and make something of himself. He tells Alex he could become a big shot superhero in New York (they're currently in a small town called "Los Angeles," by the way) while she, a photojournalist, could take photos of him and sell them to the newspapers for big bucks. The ol' Peter Parker gamble.

Alex is eventually persuaded by the idea, though I get the impression she's just humoring him because she wants to go back sleep (without him; he's on the couch). The next morning, Alex wakes Kyle up because some nutjob stole one of those experimental armors S.T.A.R. Labs likes to leave laying around and is trying to use it to siphon all the electrical power in LA. Alex tells Kyle to stay in the car while she takes photos and he assures her he won't do anything stupid like, say, try to fight a supervillain with a power ring he's only used to change his clothes and levitate slightly. We already know how that went. Guess we can add "impulsive" to "immature and irresponsible."

That takes us back to the start of the comic, with the ALL-NEW Green Lantern getting pummeled by the mighty Ohm -- that is, until Alex reminds Kyle that he can create stuff with the ring, like a shield to protect himself from Ohm's attacks or a big... stick thing to knock him down. Thirty years later, I still have no idea what this is:

So, Kyle successfully avoids being murdered on his first mission and saves the day as the crowd cheers for "Green Lantern," with only one guy commenting that his hair looks different now. Perhaps inspired by that, Alex later tells Kyle he should put that Graphic Design degree to use and make himself a new costume that will give him his own identity, resulting in the iconic new look that we'd already seen in the cover, and in the ads for this issue, and at the end of GLCQ #8.

(Note that they're at the beach, which means it's possible Kyle couldn't think of anything for the new mask, looked down, saw a crab in the sand, and said "I've got it!")

Meanwhile, at a maximum security supervillain prison known as "the Slab," some poor guards try and fail to contain the breakout of one of the inmates, who turns out to be... our pal Mongul! As in, the one who broke Hal Jordan's arm (GL #46) and helped break his brain by destroying Coast City. And he wants a rematch with "Green Lantern."

Whelp, hope he's better at remembering hair color than the average LA pedestrian...

Plotline-Watch:

According to the DC wiki, this is Ohm's one and only appearance, which I find really surprising. I'm shocked (pun intended) that he survived that period in the mid-'00s when Geoff Johns and James Robinson were going around murdering obscure DC characters for shock (pun intended again) value.

On the other hand, New Jersey's very own Slabside Penitentiary, which also debuted in this issue, went on to become a recurrent location in various DC stories, most notably the Joker: Last Laugh crossover and the Arrow TV show.

Speaking of the Slab, there are a few villain cameos in that scene: a devil guy I don't recognize (is that Nightcrawler's dad?), Shrapnel from Doom Patrol and Suicide Squad comics, and Captain Atom nemesis Major Force. As a fan of the Captain Atom run where MF was introduced, I was thrilled to see him here and wished DC put him to use more often. (Somewhere, a monkey's paw curled.)

I will echo Neil's comment on the post for GL #48 that the timeline for Kyle and Alex's breakup doesn't make sense. In this issue, Alex says they broke up "last week" and doesn't even wanna let him in, yet they seemed pretty chummy in #48, which seemed to take place only a few hours ago. The only way I can make sense of it is that it took longer than implied for Ganthet to crawl out of that pile of bodies and travel to Earth. Future issues do reveal that he made some other stops before settling for Kyle, so it's possible he spent several days offering the ring to random people in alleys before someone finally said yes.

I like that not only does the crowd mistake Kyle for Hal, but Kyle himself doesn't even remember the Green Lanterns were a thing until Alex reminds him, and he was already wearing the costume. This acknowledges Green Lantern's status for casual comics fans as a guy you kinda sorta know but don't really care enough to fully remember. That was definitely the case for me, until this run changed it.

No Guy-Watch this time... because he's getting his very own post! Coming soon.

[darkmaga-returns]

We are looking at a historic election. Over 82 million people voted early in the 2024 election, with the Republicans coming within two percentage points of Democrats for the early vote total. The majority, or 44.9 million, have voted early and in person, according to data from the University of Florida’s Election Lab. Meanwhile, about 37.8 million have returned mail-in ballots.

Forget the issues, I really do not know how anyone can vote Democrat when they do not give a shit about Americans, and they have flooded our country with God-Knows-Who, and then want them to vote to impose a dictatorship of the Marxist Agenda and strip the wealth from those who actually work and produce to hand to non-Americans to retain power.

Stamer in Britain is destroying his country with the same agenda, and his definition of “rich” is anyone with savings. The rich now is defined as a household income of $250,000, not an individual, and this is EVERY small business in the country. Then Yellen wants audits for transactions of $600 or more. Then the Democrats insult Blacks, claiming that requiring ID is racist because they are too stupid to have ID? You cannot get a job, drive a car, or get welfare without ID. This election will be the MOST CORRUPT election in our history, and there is just no possible way this country will remain united.

Oregon, which conducts voting via mail-in ballots, does not require a photo ID when registering voters.

The remaining states and Washington, D.C., do not require any documentation to vote at the polls:

California

Hawaii

Illinois

Maine

Maryland

Massachusetts

Minnesota

Nevada

New Jersey

New Mexico

New York

Pennsylvania

Vermont

I honestly do not know how either side will ever accept this election. When the democrats have pictured any Republican as “deplorable,” “Nazis,” and “garbage,” I do not see how we can remain as a nation. Civilization is NOT about oppressing the loser. The Democrats are so wrapped up in Marxism that this dangerously resembles the hatred that was spun up against the Jews in Germany and anyone with wealth during the Russian and Chinese Communist Revolutions. That led to the deaths of over 200 million in civil wars.

HOW CAN WE EVER BE SURE OF THIS ELECTION EITHER WAY?

Was the Movie Civil War a prelude to our future? Even the Candian Press seems to think so.

[cruetrimeblog]

The Unfortunate Story of John List

John List was the only child of German American parents born in Bay City, Michigan. His parents' names were John and Barbara List. John grew up in a Lutheran household which led him to become a Sunday school teacher just like his dad. John worked as a lab tech during World War Two. He served three years before being discharged in 1946. John went on to earn a bachelor's degree in business administration. He then earned a master's degree in accounting.

John was called back into active duty in 1950 due to the advancement of the Korean War. He met a woman named Helen Taylor while stationed in Virginia. They began a romantic relationship and got married in December of 1951 in Baltimore. The two decided to live in California. Due to his work as a successful military accountant, John was reassigned to the Finance Corps.

John completed his second tour in 1952. He went on to work as an accountant in Detroit. He later took a job as an audit supervisor in Kalamazoo, Michigan. This is where he and Helen raised three kids together. John became a general supervisor by 1959.

Unfortunately, Helen suffered from alcoholism. She became increasingly unstable over the years. Her daughter (before she met John) Brenda, moved out of the family home in 1960. The rest of the List family moved to Rochester, New York where John was offered a job with Xerox. After becoming the director of accounting services, John accepted a job as Vice President and comptroller of a bank in New Jersey. This is where the family moved into a large estate in Westfield, New Jersey named "Breeze Knoll." The home was a 19 room victorian mansion.

John decided to kill his entire immediate family on November 9, 1971. When the kids left for school that day, he shot Helen in the head. She was 46 years old at the time. He then went upstairs where he shot and killed his mother Alma who was 84 years old at the time. Then John decided to sit and wait for his kids to come home from school. Patricia and Frederick List were the first to arrive. The were 16 and 13 years old. John shot and killed them both. Afterwards, John proceeded to make himself lunch, run to the bank to drain his mother's accounts, then went to the local high school to watch his eldest son John Jr. play soccer. When John Jr. was finished playing, John drove them both home. John attempted to shoot his son shortly after they entered the home, but the gun misfired. This gave John Jr. a chance to fight back against his father. But it was to no avail. John shot him several more times. John Jr. was the only victim to be shot more than once.

After the murders, John placed the bodies of his family into sleeping bags and lined them up in the ballroom of the family home. However he had to leave his mother’s body upstairs, claiming she was too heavy to drag downstairs. John then sat down to write a five page letter to his pastor stating that he killed his family to “save their souls.” He proceeded to try cleaning up the scene, but he also eerily cut his face out of all of the family photos in the home. He turned the radio all the way up, turned on every light in the house, and left without a trace to start a new life.

The bodies of the List family weren’t discovered until around a month after the murders. The neighbors weren’t suspicious at first, because the Lists tended to keep to themselves. John wrote letters to his kids schools and jobs to explain that he was taking the family out of town on a trip. He canceled the milk, mail, and newspaper deliveries. Neighbors finally alerted authorities when the lights in the home started burning out.

Investigators started by examine the outside of the house and determined that nothing seemed amiss. Police returned on December 7th after getting a call from Patricia’s drama coach when she couldn’t get an answer at the door while trying to pick Patricia up for her lesson. Police entered the home through a small window in the basement, and found the bodies.

This crime was the most notorious felony in New Jersey since the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby. There was a nationwide manhunt issued for John. The family car was later found at JFK airport, but there was no evidence that John ever got on a plane.

Breeze Knoll was eventually burned down nine months after the murders. The fire was ruled as an arson but is still unsolved. A new house was built on the land in 1974

John took a train from New Jersey to Michigan, and then to Denver where he settled in 1972. He got a job as an accountant and started using the alias Robert Peter Clark. He joined his local Lutheran church. It was while attending this church that he met his next wife Delores Miller. They got married in 1985. The couple moved to Virginia in 1988, and John got a new job there as an accountant.

An episode of America's Most Wanted covered the List murders in 1989. A forensic artist assembled a bust of an age progressed John. This bust was eerily similar to John's current appearance. Less than two weeks after the show aired, John was arrested. John denied his true identity for months. He was extradited to New Jersey in 1989. John didn't admit to being who he was until February of 1990.

During the trial, John admitted that the family was struggling financially after he was laid off from work in 1971. However, he kept his unemployment a secret from his family. He would leave for work at the normal time, but just spend the day reading the newspaper at a local train station. He made ends meet by stealing money from his mother's bank account. Some of the List children had taken on part time jobs to help out the family.

During the trial, John was diagnosed with OCD. John was too proud to accept welfare, so he saw his only financial option to be killing his family, sending them to heaven, and starting a brand new life.

John was convicted of five counts of first degree murder on April 12, 1990. He was quoted saying, "I feel that because of my mental state at the time, I was unaccountable for what happened. I ask all affected by this for their forgiveness, understanding, and prayer." The judge responded, "John Emil List is without remorse and without honor. After 18 years, 5 months, and 22 days, it is now time for the voices of Helen, Alma, Patricia, Frederick, and John F. List to rise from the grave." John was sentenced to five consecutive life sentences. This was the maximum penalty at the time. John quickly filed for an appeal, but was equally as quickly denied.

John admitted during an interview with Connie Chung in 2002 to not considering suicide as another viable option because it would bar him from entering heaven where he hopes to reunite with his family someday.

John died at the age of 82 in 2008 from a bad case of pneumonia. He was being held in New Jersey at the St. Francis Medical Center. He has since been referred to as "The Boogeyman of Westfield."

[soranihimawari]

Cover me in Diamonds

Based on @iinoruu ‘s art of the Miya Twins from the new Cartier campaign.

Pairing: model!miya twins x photographer!reader

“The Miya twins were first discovered straight out of their high school graduation. Apparently an agent was a family friend of another student attending the ceremony who absolutely terrified their mother at first meeting her: she was taking photos of her son and asking classmates to take some of her with her boys when he had approached her. Despite scaring her, he backed up his claim of being a talent scout via handing her a business card. Her sons were debating—more like arguing—whether or not they should give the agency the stranger represented.

Well, that was close to six years ago and the rest, as they say in the west, is history. The fresh twinning faces graced indie brand companies as well as being breakout new models for high end designers. Everyone in the business wanted to work with either Miya Atsumu or his brother, Miya Osamu. If you could book them together? You’d be the diamond gem of your haus. It’s even rumored that Miya Atsumu, in his spare time still teaches kids volleyball, and though he doesn’t play as often, his friends still made him an honorary jersey for the division club: MSBY. Alas, if you liked the gentle, yet firm side of men, you’d probably be describing Miya Osamu. Since being a model, this Miya has been seen endorsing local food spots all around Hyogo. Until he had announced a year and a half ago he would be taking a break to pursue the culinary arts and boy did he excel. Sure, modeling career is what the twins were known for, however, they never forgot their passions before they were famous.

As for their mom? She enjoys living in the countryside nowadays, teasing her boys about the latest dating rumor of all the Billy Jeans that stop by their home town claiming their child was sired by either of her boys. Yet, she thanks them for adding to their family house by remodeling it from the base up. The old tiles and their height charts are still right outside the boys—young men now— rooms. Mama Miya is said to prefer her original jeans and white shirt looks, but of course she doesn’t mind wearing the earrings from Tiffany’s Osamu got her for Christmas two seasons ago and the Burberry sunglasses with matching ascot from the vintage rebranding line shipped first class from Atsumu either.

To their core, the Miya family has done an excellent job of restoring and retelling the dream of the cult classic rags to riches,”— the editor reads the most updated and popular take of the article which your desk had written.

The editor smiles, humming their approval before asking you, your opinion.

“You went to the same high school as them, did you not?”

With as loud as the bullpen is at a high end and we’ll respected magazine, the utter silence astounds you. No one, and you made sure absolutely no one, knew of this. You went so far as to beg your roommate to change your home city to match a different one than your ID card. The ears around you were quietly demanding you to answer and alas you tilt your head to the side about to confirm or deny.

“I did,” you say this clear as a bell.

The bullpen erupts with shouts and questions so obnoxiously personal you thought they were paparazzi! These were your colleagues for almost five years (one of those years being a break from university art school) post collegiate graduation and now they treat you like a god amongst the people because you actually knew the Miya twins prior to their ticket to fame. You refrain from telling anyone else that you are related to the now deceased agent, your uncle, who discovered them.

The five o’clock chimes were going off when the office finally thins out with you promising, more like ‘voluntold’ to finish more stories about high school with the famous models. You’re always one of the last ones out of the building because you head to the photographer labs. Your craft, your signature pieces, your one of a kind print portfolio is there. Turning on the lights, you place your personal belongings down and pinch the bridge of your nose after you take a deep breath and scream into a pillow from your photographer neighbor on the exhale to muffle it.

“I wasn’t popular, not by a long shot,” you mutter closing your eyes. You move to straighten your back lest you want to be permanently C-shaped and you are greeted by a photo the last photographer editor did for a Cartier campaign. It was a test shot no one thought would do well, but you remember being on set that day…

It was the first day of summer. The warehouse aircon was busted, the ring lights were overheating, the foiled umbrellas weren’t cooperating and you just had to see your old lab partner and the guy who tutored you in American Modern English walk in.

You claim you’d never forgive your uncle for signing them, however you changed your tune when you noticed two very distinct kanji writings of your name. Miya Atsumu would always round out the last line with a little bird (sometimes a butterfly) where as his brother, Miya Osamu, would make little onigiris living under the dash line of your hyphenated name. You thought nothing of it until much recently: did they-could they-have remembered you? All shy and temperamental. Kind of weirded out the other interns, but to your surprise one day during a lunch break later on during this particular shoot, you heard Atsumu and Osamu talking.

“YN-chan got really cute,” the blonde says, stuffing his face with a half a ham sandwich. “Hey, remember when she was my lab partner and she scolded me for ruining her notes?”

“Because you were an asshole and left the Bunsen burner turned on way too high,” Osamu said, a chortle trying to not come out.

Atsumu sticks his tongue out. “At least I wasn’t the one who kept feeding her half my lunch because she burned her rolled eggs that morning before your tutoring session in the library!”

“At least I wasn’t t’one who couldn’t ask her to take a photo with us on graduation!”

“We didn’t even thank her for her uncle’s business card,” Osamu’s voice was serious. “Remember when mom said she didn’t have to worry anymore about making payments for our house after we got our offer letters? She was really struggling then and between jobs…”

Atsumu laughs. “We’d never seen so many 0s after a number! Even with scholarship money…”

You stand a few feet away taking test shots of what seemed to be the brick wall behind them, and you purposefully took it with them out of focus. You took four shots on your Canon DSL using 35mm film: two out of focus, and two off-center of the boys in focus. Without telling anyone, you later submitted those to a contest for the fashion magazine editorial hence why you work where you do now. The photo is widely spread online as one of the first sneak peaks into Cartier’s line for men.

Presently, while you are still agitated at the bullpen scene, you put away the developers and head home. You’re not close to the two twin stars, yet when the photographer for the next campaign shoot calls your editor’s office saying the model refuse to work with him, the photographer tells your boss the Miyas demand you take their photos:

“No buts,” your editor air quotes this to you when you’re pulled into their office. The bullpen, rather the other fashion journalists press their ears to the thick glass as you get your things together, and in a voice of finality, you choose no one else to go with you.

You pack your camera, an overnight bag when you get home, and the company car is there within an hour of seven thirty. The ride to Narita Airport, you replay everything from the last four hours of your life because my god was it a whirlwind and whiplash all at once:

Editor in Chief & Photographer Editor in Chief Office

“Congratulations YN, you’re heading to New York on a red eye flight,” is all your editor tells you with this smug look.

“I’m sorry, what?!”

The photographer editor in chief replays the message for you to hear. Atsumu and Osamu are heard arguing about how they’d only do the shoot if they get to work with you. The photographer’s assistant is on the line asking if you’re still working at the Tokyo branch of the same magazine the Cartier campaign would debut in Asia. Behind there assistant you hear Atsumu’s thunderous voice say, “without yn’s 35mm shots of us no one would take us seriously!”

The call drops and the editor in chief spreads out the various versions of your brick wall campaign test shots. The most famous one? It’s odd Atsumu and Osamu laughing nonchalantly showing of the earrings and pendant necklaces in the sunlight.

“This image, it literally launched their career and you took it anonymously! Why didn’t you say anything then?” The editor asks you.

You brush as few bangs behind your ear, “because no one would think to ask a ‘crappy intern’ to sign off on using the image, so I published it independently…” you pick up one of the blurred images.

“I landed the job here a few months after fashion week a year ago after submitting my portfolio of exclusive 35mm prints to your mailboxes…so when do I leave for NYC?”

Fourteen and a half hours later, exhausted and packing lightly for a two week trip to the United States was not easy, but when JFK shuts down half a gate so you can bypass the paparazzi, you wonder just what else the wealthy can do. You entertain the idea until you roll your photopgrahy carry on luggage and look up to see two very eager friends from your adolescence run toward you with open arms.

It’s been a year since that New York Trip. You’re in Seoul now, a solo trip that was much warranted by a certain mischievous silver haired twin’s immediate threat of, “if you won’t ask yn, I will” scenario one pre-breakfast photoshoot with his brother.

“And what about ya, huh?” Atsumu asked before taking his phone out about to text you if you had wanted to go try to visit Seoul in the spring. “Ya liked yn first…”

Osamu flicks his brother’s forehead first, “Yeah, Tsumu. That may be true, but yer the one who loved yn more.”

The blonde makes a face at his brother scowling muttering why he had to be born a twin and why couldn’t Osamu tease him later about his personal life.

“We got yn to come to New York, what’s stopping ya from sending that text? Lemme see yer phone.”

And in the midst of the brotherly struggle, Atsumu accidentally had his thumb press and slide to send, much to his horror, you reply two seconds later (ok, you replied a few minutes later)…

“Yn w-wants to go,” he said snatching his phone from his brother’s hand.

Atsumu plops down on the couch in the latest studio they are in for Calvin Klein Jeans. Osamu, mirthfully laughs, saying something or other about maybe hiring you to be the mystery woman covered in Cartier diamonds in a retro bathtub for the jeweler’s summer line as they offer you champagne on a silver tray. Atsumu excuses himself from the couch, conveniently hiding both his reddening cheeks and the one bodily reaction he’s sure no one can edit properly…

Oh, and as for you, you finally come forward as the photographer behind the amazing shot that helped boost your old classmates’ careers. You did let your employer interview you via podcast format and the transcription copies flew off the shelves. Your photographs were displayed as the editorial for the winter line the year the newer Cartier line was announced to the public. Finally, in the midst of the chaos of your name being synonymous with helping the Miya twins rise to fame, the most classiest photo of you with the boys (decked head to toe in sleek Alexender McQueen suits and Louis Vuitton shoes) is framed and hung up next to the altar for your late uncle in your house.

So, yes, you find yourself in Seoul, walking side by side with a now ash blonde Atsumu, who waits for you to stop updating his brother about the cool sights you saw via text because when you do hit ‘send,’ Atsumu is just about ready to confess a lifetime’s worth of love with a simple kiss—one he’s discovered is worth its weight in diamonds.

[rapaechelon]

Jersey Club: Exploring the Culture, Sound, and Impact of a Genre

ItsRichZ and Uniiqu3 at "A Jersey Club Party" Photo By OfficialJasmera Yerrrr, what's good, people! I'm hyped to announce a new series that's been cooking up in the lab, and it's all about Jersey Club and Jersey Club Drill! We're about to take you on a journey that explores the culture and sound of this genre that's been making waves across the globe, capturing the hearts of millions. We're not just giving you surface-level info; nah, we're digging deep into the little-known stories and providing rare insights into the sound beyond its New Jersey borders. We're taking you behind the scenes and exploring how the Jersey Club scene has grown and adapted to different regions worldwide. From the artists, DJs to the producers, and dancers to the fans, we highlight everyone who's contributed to its evolution. But, yo, it's not just about the music. Community, inclusivity, and acceptance are at the core of Jersey Club, and our series emphasizes these values. We're shining a light on the diverse range of people who make up the Jersey Club scene and how the culture has become a safe space for self-expression and dancing without fear of judgment. "From sexy walking to rocking our hips- the Jersey Club music movement has always been a way to bring the dancers, DJs, producers, athletes and everyone in between together." — Tai Perkins, Hot 97 We're also diving deep into the music, exploring its evolution. Jersey Club is a genre that blends various music styles. We're showing you how artists incorporate their unique regional sounds and cultural backgrounds into the genre while staying true to its roots. We aim to take you on an in-depth journey through the Jersey Club scene from various parts of the world. We're talking to artists who have taken the sound to new heights and those who've kept the culture alive in their local communities. And you know we're also showcasing the fun, excitement, and unforgettable experiences of being part of the Jersey Club scene. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37i9dQZF1DXajwQAxzrT4Q?si=b7c0afaa9efb460a This groundbreaking series is not just your average run-of-the-mill content; we're bringing a fresh perspective on the genre, its origins, and its global impact. I'm inviting you to join us on this journey as we explore the culture, sound, and history of Jersey Club. Trust me; you don't want to miss out! Trust me; you don't want to miss out! Sincerely, Richard “ItsRichZ” Zeller https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilcWHbbVwF4&t=309s Read the full article

[aloeverawrites]

Tw language, mentions of emotional abuse and cursing.

They never wanted me to go into detective work. Said sometimes the past was better left in the past.

I hadn’t known what that meant then although I was right for clocking it as a weird thing to say.

Dear god.

The kid that stares back at me is a twin of my photos at the time, same blonde hair and green eyes. Same red overalls that I’ve only seen myself in a few photos in.

I asked them once why they never had any baby photos of me. They told me they weren’t big picture people.

Clearly they did have a hobby. They were big kidnapping people.

No I’ve finally lost it. There’s no way that’s actually me. I’m just… the job is getting to me. I’d better read the damn thing.

“Missing baby girl taken at three years old. Was last seen at the playground on fifth street.

Parents Martha and Bobby Jefferson. Apartment number 05 yadda yadda yadda.”

I have the mom’s eyes. She seems nice. I kept reading.

“Suspects: Knone.”

Now hang on… there’s a typo there. Almost like someone had deleted most of another word to write something else. I think of my mom Karen and then desperately try not to think about her.”

“New information: DNA testing has become more widely available. The parents still have hair from their child’s comb.

New lead: Officer Davis has reason to believe the child is in New Jersey.”

Is that why he assigned me to the case? Did he know something? My supervisor… my mentor he couldn’t. He couldn’t know.

My parents, they’re really rich people.

Damn, I throw the papers to the desk and run my hands thru my hair. As I do a small note falls out. It reads, in magazine letters

“Sorry I let you down Rodgers.” That’s, my name. What the hell….

Right it’s time to give the forensics team the thrill of their lives.

I send in a few strands of my own hair, gone brown at this point, and I kick back and wait. My ‘parents’ ask me if I’m coming home for dinner.

I politely decline.

They ask me how work is.

I tell them I need to focus on the road as I’m driving. They don’t see anything too weird about that. I always was a moody teenager. They know what I’m like. Of course they do. They raised me, took care of me my whole life. Did okay, were the standard emotionally abusive parents and I still have yet to recover from how they initially reacted to me my transitioning but overall they did alright. I wonder how Martha and Bobby would have done.

Focus Jacob.

You’ve never jumped to conclusions on a case before. You won’t start now.

I crashed in hotels and my girlfriend’s couch for the two days it takes for a dna test to come through.

Me and her are fairly new so I don’t drop the whole sob story of my potentially being kidnapped on her. Think she knows something already though. She’s clever like that. I, probably could have slept in her bed but I’m kinda dumb and that thought didn’t occur to me until I’d passed out in the couch. Ah well.

My phone rings. It’s the lab.

“Rodgers you cracked it! That was your fastest time yet how’d you do it?”

“… so that’s the kids hair? She’s the same goddamn person, you’re sure?”

“Jesus, yeah man. Are you feeling alright? You made a new record!”

“Yeah that’s because it’s my fucking hair Tim. And someone in this department knew. They knew.“

“So… you’re trans?”

“That’s… that’s your goddamn take away, alright-“

“No I’m sorry I’m just surprised.” He says as I hang up and stare at my phone. It’s hits the far side of the wall and that’s when I realised I’ve thrown it.

My mom got me that for my eighteenth. Picked out the case too as they never let me make any damn decisions in my life.

Fuck. Fuck, f- no it’s okay. I… I don’t know what to do.

This is the first case where I’m completely lost. Literally. God it’s not funny.

So I do the corrupt thing. Why not, apparently every other cop on this case has done it.

I lift their address from the file and get in my car. As I drive I pass police cars heading in the opposite direction. Mom and Pop are finally going to see where I work then. Well they had always promised.

It’s a long drive. The street lamps flick on as I drive and I watch them change from the corner of my eye.

I pull up to the apartments and sit outside then for a bit, just thinking. I get out and knock on the door. They might not even be home. They might have moved-

They open the door.

Martha and Bobby. She has my eyes or I have her eyes. They’re slowly widening in shock. I have his hair.

She’s still blonde.

“Um.” I start. I don’t know what to say. “News from the police department. It turns out you have a son, now. And also he’s quitting the police department.”

You’re a detective that opens up an old missing child case from 1997, after new evidence had occurred. You stumble back from desk in shock. You’re the missing 1997 child

[brenpaidhi-blog]

Hell Hath No Fury - Chapter 1

Hell Hath No Fury

BrenPaidhi

Summary:

Leading a double life is complicated when one of those lives is a superhero, two double lives (and two superheros) even more so. Add a third (or is it a fifth) life in the form of an NYPD Lieutenant, and you understand what Trish Walker, Beth Kane and Lt. Rita Ortiz learned some time ago: Life in the big city can be hell.

Copyright © 2022

This work is rated Mature because of some explicit descriptions of sex in Chapters 16, 25, 42 and 44.

------------------------------------------

Notes:

What's in a name? That which we call a rose, blah, blah, blah. It turns out when you have to take fictional cities and translate them into real ones, names are important; at least the real names.

Metropolis is a no-brainer. The Big Apple. Gotham is a bit more problematic. It has been used to refer to NYC, but in the comics it seems to be in New Jersey. For this story, however, I prefer to place it in Chicago since The Windy City stands in for the home of The Dark Knight in the movies. Star City is Seattle (natch), but Central City is a bit more vague so I chose St. Louis for the home of S.T.A.R. labs and the residence of the fastest man on Earth. Other locations will be translated as the need arises. Anyone who has objections to my version of mapping, please suspend your disbelief for the time it takes you to read and, I hope, enjoy this version of reality.

One more note: You fill find several sections of dialogue that are not in English. Those sections are linked to their English translation. Those of you who are reading on a PC can simply hover your mouse over the section to see the translation. If you are reading from a mobile device just press and hold the link to see the translation.

I include song lyrics in several chapters. Those songs are important since they help convey what the characters are feeling, and some of them may be familiar to you. Where I could I have included links to the songs themselves, and I encourage any reader to click the link, listen, and enjoy.

Patricia Walker, Hellcat, Kyle Richmond and Nighthawk are the intellectual property of Marvel Comics.

Elizabeth Kane, Alice, Julia Pennyworth and Carmine Falcone are the intellectual property of DC Comics.

Rita Ortiz, John Irvine, Joe Slovak and Ray Quinn are the intellectual property of Steven Bochco Productions and 20th Century Fox Television

This is a work of non-commercial fan fiction and not intended for, or to be used for, commercial purpose.

----------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: Don't look a gift horse...

Trish positioned the final ice pack on her right knee and wrapped it with an elastic bandage, just like she had the other two.

She lay back on her bed, inhaled deeply and slowly, eyes closed, and enjoyed the complete lack of motion for several seconds.

She did not open her eyes as she spoke.

"Alexa set a fifteen-minute timer."

"Fifteen minutes," the female voice replied, "starting now."

The bed was not the only piece of furniture in the one-room studio apartment. There was a chair, an end table, and a small desk. Trish could visualize the entire apartment and its contents without opening her eyes. It would take her less than a minute to list all the other contents of the small room. One place setting, one set of silverware, and two glasses, all bought from Goodwill, like the small table lamp, the Degas print of a dancer mounted on the wall just above her head, and the two framed photos of the couple that anyone who visited here would assume were the parents of Kathy Rambler, the woman who had signed the apartment lease, whose name was displayed through the cellophane windows on the envelopes that sat on a counter in the small kitchen.

If that hypothetical someone were to observe the woman, clad only in underwear and a tank top, who lay beneath the framed print of a woman dancing on pointe, the woman with ice packs on her right knee, left shoulder, and left wrist, and bruises on her right rib cage and shoulder, there would be no mistaking the figure of an elite dancer, unless they were to mistake it for the figure of an elite gymnast or an elite fighter. Any and all of those were true, even though it had been years since the woman lying still with her eyes closed had put on a pair of pointe shoes or taped her wrists to protect them during her sixty-second bar routine.

Trish's eyes opened at the sound of her timer expiring.

"Alexa, stop."

Trish knew she should get up, put the ice packs back in the freezer, clean her suit, and take a shower before leaving this small refuge for the slightly larger one three floors up. She should at least get up and close the window she had used as her entrance thirty minutes ago, but she lacked the will to move.

Fuck it, I might just sleep here tonight,  she thought.

She had done it before when the aches and pains reached a certain point and only responded to bourbon and ibuprofen. For those occasions, she kept a dark wig and a pair of sunglasses in the apartment, just in case anyone saw her leave and wondered why Trish Walker was coming out of Kathy Rambler's apartment. She could always say that Kathy was her girlfriend, but that opened her up to invitations for both of them and excuses why Kathy could not attend.

Sorry, my fictional alter ego has a prior engagement kicking the living shit out of the New York underworld tomorrow night.

Trish's eyes settled on the goldenrod ( it's not yellow, dammit, how many fucking times do I have to tell you? ) ballistic hyper mesh formfitting suit which lay where she had dropped it on the floor. She knew the blood would easily wash off. But the sweat-soaked absorbent liner was already beginning to smell up the apartment with that combined vinegar and ammonia smell that told her she was eating more protein than her body could metabolize.

She was thirty-seven years old as of one week ago. Trish knew she couldn't keep acting like she was still in her twenties, but her body was very good at reminding her when she forgot. Her natural ability to heal much quicker than the average person, which had helped her through her dancing, gymnastics, and fighting phases, had slowed down but was still there, as were her natural physical abilities.

"You have a gift," Kay had said to her one day after class at SAB, "I have been doing this long enough that I know a star when I see one. You have a bright future ahead of you."

That was only days before 911, back when the world was different. Before Hellcat was even a thought in her mind.

"If you go down this road, you don't get to come back afterward," Hank had said a few months afterward when she had convinced him that she was committed to a future that Kay had not predicted for Trish.

"None of us get to go back. There's no back to go back to."

"That made almost no sense," he said.

"Fuck you."

Hank's smile was all the answer she needed.

Trish looked towards the kitchen, where she kept the bourbon and ibuprofen. The suit lay on the floor halfway in between.

"Dammit," she groaned as she rolled to her side and sat up.

[jcmarchi]

Deadly Opioid Detected in Wastewater for the First Time - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/deadly-opioid-detected-in-wastewater-for-the-first-time-technology-org/

Deadly Opioid Detected in Wastewater for the First Time - Technology Org

University of Queensland researchers and international collaborators have found a deadly synthetic drug in wastewater in the United States – the first such detection globally.

Wastewater pipes – illustrative photo. Image credit: Pixabay (Free Pixabay license)

Dr Richard Bade from UQ’s Queensland Alliance for Environmental Health Sciences led a team which analysed wastewater samples from eight locations in seven US states: Arizona, Georgia, Illinois, New Jersey, New Mexico, Oregon and Washington.

Dr Bade said wastewater from two of the sites, in Illinois and Washington, recorded a type of opioid called protonitazene.

“Protonitazene is a novel synthetic opioid around three times more potent than fentanyl, and even very small amounts can produce life-threatening toxic effects,” Dr Bade said.

“The protonitazene found in Illinois wastewater was at a level below the quantification limit of our instrument, but the wastewater from Washington contained protonitazene at approximately 0.5 nanograms per litre.”

Dr Bade said the detection was concerning.

“Novel synthetic opioids are a leading contributor to overdose deaths worldwide, with protonitazene itself linked to several fatal overdoses in the United States,” he said.

“These synthetic drugs have been detected in substances typically sold as other opioids such as oxycodone, fentanyl and heroin, as well as in products containing benzodiazepines and cocaine.

“Novel synthetic opioids were initially developed in the 1950s by the pharmaceutical industry, but they were never approved as medicines.

“More recently illegal laboratories have started developing synthetic opioids as stand-alone products.”

The US wastewater samples were collected over nine days between December 2022 and January 2023.

The samples were acidified, flash frozen and sent to Arizona State University for sample processing before being sent on to UQ’s lab in Brisbane for analysis.

“Our study and results highlight the importance of wastewater surveillance to detect new and dangerous drugs, so that even when minor amounts are detected, this is recognised by health authorities and relevant government bodies,” Dr Bade said.

The research is a collaboration between UQ, University of South Australia, Arizona State University’s Biodesign Center for Environmental Health Engineering and the Center for Forensic Science Research and Education’s NPS Discovery program.

The research paper is published in Science of the Total Environment.

Source: University of Queensland

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

[xtruss]

Dr. Chien-Shiung Wu, The First Lady of Physics

Photo Courtesy of the Smithsonian Institution. Dr. Chien-Shiung Wu at a Gathering at Columbia University in 1958.

Chien-Shiung Wu is a Pioneer and Pivotal Figure in the History of Physics. An immigrant to the United States from China, she did important work for the Manhattan Project and in experimental physics. Her crucial contribution to particle physics was, however, ignored by the Nobel Prize committee when it awarded the 1957 Nobel Prize in Physics.

Chien-Shiung was born on May 31, 1912 and raised in a small fishing town just north of Shanghai, China. She had two brothers and was the middle child. Although relatively uncommon for girls to attend school, Chien-Shiung went to Mingde Women’s Vocational Continuing School. It was founded by her father, who believed that girls should receive an education.

In 1934, Chien-Shiung graduated at the top of her class with a degree in physics from the National Central University in Nanking, China (now known as Nanjing University). After graduation, she worked in a physics lab in China. Her mentor, Dr. Jing-Wei Gu, another woman working in the field of physics, encouraged Chien-Shiung to continue her education in the United States.

With financial support from her uncle, Chien-Shiung took a ship to San Francisco. She was likely processed for immigration to the United States at the Angel Island Immigration Station located in San Francisco Bay.[1] She enrolled at the University of California Berkeley in 1936.[2] Her academic advisor was Ernest Lawrence. In 1939, while Chien-Shiung was still his student, he received the Nobel Prize in Physics for inventing the cyclotron particle accelerator. In 1940, Dr. Chien-Shiung Wu graduated with her PhD in physics.

In 1942, she married Luke Chia-Liu Yuan, who she had met during her studies at Berkeley. Neither of their families were able to attend the wedding because of World War II fighting in the Pacific. They moved to the east coast where Dr. Wu taught physics at Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts and at Princeton University in New Jersey.[3] She was the first woman hired as faculty in the Physics Department at Princeton. Shortly afterwards, in 1944, Dr. Wu took a job at Columbia University in New York City, and joined the Manhattan Project. The Manhattan Project researchers were working towards the creation of the atomic bomb. Chein-Shiung’s research included improving Geiger counters for the detection of radiation and the enrichment of uranium in large quantities.

Once communications with China were restored after World War II, Wu received a letter from her family. She was making plans to visit them when the Chinese Civil War started, and her travel was put on hold. Later, her father told her not to return to Communist China. She was not able to return to China until 1973. By then, her parents had died and their tombs destroyed. Both her uncle and brother were also gone, killed in the Chinese Cultural Revolution. Luke and Chien-Shiung had a son in 1947. Following in his parents’ footsteps, he also became a nuclear scientist. In 1954, Chien-Shiung became a US Citizen.

After World War II, Dr. Wu continued on at Columbia University, becoming a full professor in 1958 and the Michael I. Pupin Professor of Physics in 1973. In 1975, her pay as a professor was raised to be equal to that of her male colleagues. Among her important contributions to physics was the first confirmation of Enrico Fermi’s 1933 theory of beta decay (how radioactive atoms become more stable and less radioactive). She also played a crucial role in an important advancement in atomic science. In 1956, physicists Tsung-Dao Lee (at Columbia University) and Chen Ning Yang (Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton) asked Dr. Chien-Shiung Wu to create an experiment. The purpose was to test their theory that the conservation of parity did not apply during beta decay. The conservation of parity is the scientific principle that identical nuclear particles act alike. Dr. Wu agreed to design the experiment. She carried it out at laboratories at the National Bureau of Standards (now the National Institute of Standards and Technology) in Washington, DC.[4]

To test the theory, she put cobalt-60 (a radioactive variety of cobalt) into a strong electromagnetic field at temperatures near absolute zero. The cold helped eliminate the effect of temperature on the atoms. If the conservation of parity held true, particles expelled by the cobalt-60 as it decayed from radioactive to stable should fly off in all directions. What she observed was that more particles flew off in one direction (the direction opposite to the spin of the nucleus). Therefore, conservation of parity did not happen during beta decay. The experiment, known as the Wu Experiment, is named for her. Yet, in 1957, Lee and Yang were awarded a Nobel Prize in Physics for their work. Like the contributions of many women in science at the time, Dr. Chien-Shiung Wu’s work was not acknowledged. In 1964, at a symposium at MIT in Cambridge, Massachusetts, she asked her audience “whether the tiny atoms and nuclei, or the mathematical symbols, or the DNA molecules have any preference for either masculine or feminine treatment.”

Chien-Shiung Wu continued to be a leader in the field of physics, and her work even crossed over to biology and medicine. Some of her research included looking at the molecular changes in red blood cells that cause sickle-cell disease. Although denied recognition with the Nobel Prize, Dr. Wu received many honors during her career. These include being only the seventh woman elected to the National Academy of Sciences (1958); the Comstock Prize in Physics given by the National Academy of Sciences; the first woman to be president of the American Physical Society (1975); the first person to receive the Wolf Prize in Physics (1978); and the first honorary doctorate awarded by Princeton University to a woman. In 1990, she had an asteroid named after her (2752 Wu Chien-Shiung).

Dr. Chien-Shiung Wu retired from Columbia in 1981 and died of a stroke in New York City on February 16, 1997. Her ashes were buried in the courtyard of the Mingde School in China that she had attended as a girl.

Notes:

[1] Angel Island was listed on the National Register of Historic Places on October 14, 1971 and designated a National Landmark Historic District on December 9, 1997.

[2] Sather Tower, also known as The Campanile, is a highly visible and noted feature of the University of California Berkeley campus. Built in 1914, it was listed on the National Register of Historic Places on March 25, 1982.

[3] Much of Princeton University’s campus is part of the Princeton Historic District. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places on June 27, 1975.

[4] None of the buildings from the National Bureau of Standards campus formerly located in Washington, DC survive. The agency is now known as the National Institute for Science and Technology.

Chien-Shiung Wu (31 May 1912 – 16 February 1997)! Chinese-American Particle Physicist Who Was Denied A Nobel Prize

— By Richard Webb

At its heart, physics is the study of symmetries. In the 1950s Chien-Shiung Wu made a fundamental discovery about how under certain circumstances a fundamental symmetry of the particle world, known as parity symmetry, could be broken – but she never got full recognition for the achievement.

Symmetry is important because by observing how, under certain circumstances, processes always work in the same way – and the circumstances under which they work differently – we can begin to draw up precise mathematical laws about how the world works. Parity symmetry says that particle processes – collisions, decays – should happen in the same way if all the positions and orientations of the particles involved are flipped in the mirror.

By the mid-20th century, the field of particle physics was booming with the construction of new particle accelerators, and there were various hints that parity symmetry might not always hold. In 1956, theorists Tsung-Dao Lee and Yang Chen-Ning showed that it was valid for interactions involving electromagnetism and the strong nuclear force. But they found no evidence for it holding in interactions involving the weak nuclear force, the one responsible for processes including radioactive beta decay. They also drew a rough design of an experiment for testing the idea of “parity symmetry breaking” out in the laboratory.

Enter Chien-Shiung Wu. Born in China in 1912, she moved to the US to do a PhD in 1936. She never saw her parents again: the intervention of the second world war and the accession of the communists to power in China meant Wu didn’t return to her birth country until 1973, and then only as tourist.

“Parity Violation Was Subsequently Confirmed By Many Experiments, Led To Lee And Yang Sharing The 1957 Nobel Prize For Physics – While Wu Got Nothing. It Seems She Was The Victim Of A Sexism Very Prevalent In Physics Then And Probably Even Now.”

Throwing herself into her work the University of California, Berkeley, home of a pioneering particle accelerator, she became an authority on beta decay, and worked on the wartime Manhattan project to build the first nuclear bomb.

In 1956, Wu designed and built an experiment at the US National Bureau of Standards in Maryland to test Lee and Yang’s idea. It involved cooling atoms of beta-radioactive cobalt-60 atoms to cryogenic temperatures in a constant magnetic field to ensure they were all lined up the same way. If these cobalt atoms then emitted beta particles asymmetrically in space, that was a cast-iron indication that parity conservation was indeed violated.

And so it proved to be. This fundamental discovery about the way the world works has huge ramifications – not least, it could provide a hint for how a breaking symmetry caused the universe to be filled with matter in the first place. Parity violation was subsequently confirmed by many experiments, led to Lee and Yang sharing the 1957 Nobel prize for physics – while Wu got nothing.

It seems she was the victim of a sexism very prevalent in physics then and probably even now. Wu went on to do much more seminal work, based at Colombia University in New York. She became an outspoken critic both of gender discrimination in science and the repressive policies of the Chinese government. She died in New York City in 1997 at the age of 84.

Significance: Physicist

Place of Birth: Near Shanghai, China

Date of Birth: May 31, 1912

Place of Death: New York City

Date of Death: February 16, 1997

Place of Burial: Near Shanghai, China

Cemetery Name: Ashes Buried in the Courtyard of the Mingde School

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