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rangknit · 5 years

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Flash back! when I tried to copy Scarpa’s glassware surface texture!

Reading the first meeting with Alison Ellen, you must be wondering ‘Why Knitting??’ As I am an Interior Designer by Profession!! Well, let me explain that my curiosity growing in ‘Knitting’ and exploring this hobby into something more - has shaped up from something random - but not so random! :D

Let me take you through my journey! During my MRes Course in Creative Industries, initially I had an interest in exploring two questions as my research questions: 1) Where does interior starts and stops? and 2) ‘What is a drawing?’ In order to gain an in-depth knowledge, I looked at 2 specific case studies apart from doing a Literature review.

I looked at Carlo Scarpa, an Italian Master Architect and Jacob Hashimoto, a New York based Artist (having half Irish – half Japanese ancestry). The very reason for choosing them was to understand how their practice features the feeling of being ‘home’. Scarpa is known for his brilliant design solutions where architecture becomes a backdrop for his new interventions/drawings into the historical setting; while in Hashimoto’s work, he makes use of architectural setting as a part of his drawing. He not only exhibits kites of different sizes and shapes but also prepares the whole atmosphere where visitor also becomes a part of his drawing. To analyze the difference in these two approaches I decided to use ‘drawing’ as a methodology. The reason for choosing ‘drawing’ as a medium of investigation was because, it seemed the most direct way into another artist’s experience and reflection of the world. Particularly, while uncovering the work of Hashimotto I became aware that, the impression of ‘drawing’ as being a 2 dimensional entity should be broken. Hashimotto considers ‘his drawings’ to be a medium between painting and sculpture. Therefore, this idea of breaking the myth of a drawing done only on paper, became much important in order to explore how drawing becomes a part of an architectural setting and what it means today.

Knitting was a hobby, which I learnt in the UK. Initially I experimented using colours found in Scarpa’s and Hashimoto’s palette to draw and build patterns. Soon after, I found myself entwined in the act of making; being more expressive and confident with the threads then with drawing onto the paper. During this phase there was a moment when knitting began to replace paper. I pushed myself to built the same surface texture found in Scarpa’s glassware design just by seeing and experimenting in order to make. I built only 4 patterns, but the trick was - I taught myself those stitches and not google it or learn through the tutorial. This phase not only gave me confidence to trust my intuition but also to see what was happening in front of my eyes - or even before the pattern is not seen visually. The patterns that I developed can be viewed below:

IMG1: Scarpa’s Glassware IMG2: My Knit pattern

IMG3: Scarpa’s Glassware IMG4: My Knit pattern

IMG5: Scarpa’s Glassware IMG6: My Knit pattern

IMG7: Scarpa’s Glassware IMG8: My Knit pattern

Some point from here, once I made these patches, there was no turning back! My supervisor also pointed out that whence I was explaining and knitting, I seemed more confident and poised. She therefore gave me a task to further explore and read through the history of knitting - in order to understand how and when it started!

I started reading through the history of knitting - and it just became more interesting, when I came across an article where the author mentioned that ‘Knitting was originated by Men!’ It was men (such as taxi drivers, shepherds,etc who while waited) were knitting, but later when men were called by nation at war; i.e. during Second World War, that was when women picked up these needles to make scarfs, sweaters, socks, etc for men at war to keep them warm. There were a lot of posters and books found from this period when women were called to gather at a spot and knit together! Since then, Knitting became women identity...which by the way is not a long time ago! (some articles claims that after 1589 men invented knitting machine and then dropped knitting intensively and that’s when women were introduced with the idea of knitting briefly, at least that’s what they say! :D) The other fact that made ‘Knitting’ more interesting were also the stories of knitting being an ‘Espionage language’ for British intelligence employed women to knit enemy movement and strategy using more coding embedded into scarfs, sweaters, socks they made. Therefore, during that time the office of Censorship Banned people from uploading ‘knitting patterns’ online in the fear that they might contain the enemy strategy being coded.

Hence, my relationship of questioning ‘Where interior starts and stops?’ at the time looked more like a secret space which was built with coding! and since then I started looking at Morse code language and understanding what they meant and how they can be communicated!

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plopstories-blog · 5 years

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The jay

The man found a newborn dove in his garden, near the access gate. The man identified the bird as a “baby pigeon”, because he was not aware of the difference between pigeons and doves, although they populated in large numbers the same spaces he lived in.

The man could not keep going on his way, ignoring the little bird and to test its vitality he touched the animal with the tip of his shoe. When the bird opened its eyes and began breathing rapidly, the man experienced an ambivalent feeling of relief and frustration: would it be dead or nearly so, he would have surely felt a deep sadness but this would have been rapidly washed away by the necessary acceptance of the inevitability of fate of which, in that case, he did not have to be an actor. Now, instead, the man was called to action, or at least to the decision of the non-action. He knew that the possible scenarios weren't comforting. Were he to choose to “save” the bird, the man didn't know how to take care of it: he was ignorant of what kind of food would be appropriate for a “baby pigeon”, as well as the way to deliver that nourishment. He did not know if it had to be kept inside or outside, warm or cool. He realized that he would have condemned the dove to a slow agony till the day he would have found it lifeless inside the shoebox. And, of that death, but more importantly of that inevitable suffering, the man would have felt responsible. Moreover, he was able to understand how, for that poor bird, he only represented a big predator by whom, to be picked up, closed into a box and moved inside an apartment, would have not been a source of relief, but surely just one of more terror. On the other hand, leaving the bird there would have brought it to its death just as well, by the cold, starvation, or by the hand of a bored cat. This scenario, not unlike the other one, would have prolonged its suffering for many minutes, maybe hours. The man could almost directly experience the dove's mental process, who knew it was about to die and there it waited, and the internal feeling of acute despair was his own as if it were him, and not the dove, to be the victim of a powerful and cruel fate.

But at that moment a memory surfaced from the depths of his mind: some months before the man had witnessed a strange and horrifying scene, which now seemed to make much more sense. An unknown bird (it was a Garrulus Glandarius or a jay, but he could not know) had kicked another “baby pigeon” out of its nest, and with powerful pecks to the neck, it had chopped the little head off. This being done, the bird flew up to a tree and started ripping off little flaps of red meat from its prey’s skull with the utmost simplicity. At the time the man had been horrified in the way that only who has never been subjected to the ferocity of nature can be horrified. But now, the jay behaviour perfectly placed itself inside a wider chain of reasoning that was just rising inside the man’s head about the necessary cruelty of life. That murdering act, completed with the total lack of feeling or cognitive process, seemed now one of the purest and truest things he had ever had the chance to witness. Surely the little dove had died poorly, but this was part of the wonderful cycle of life so much so that the jay’s behaviour became for him an oracle able to work as a link between nature and himself.

This epiphany allowed the man to solve the puzzle of the little dove: with no more doubts and a with a light heart, the man picked up the bird, stared right into its dark eyes that seemed already to know everything, and chopped its head off with a precise bite at the base of the neck.

La ghiandaia

L’uomo trovò una tortora di pochi giorni sotto casa sua, attaccata alle pietre della rampa d’ingresso. L’uomo classificò quell’essere come “cucciolo di piccione”, perché non aveva idea della differenza tra tortore e piccioni, sebbene questi popolassero in grandi quantità gli stessi suoi spazi. L’uomo, inoltre, non pescò nel suo vocabolario il termine “pullo” biologicamente più corretto, ma il suo lessico interno si accontentò di un più immediato e generalizzabile “cucciolo”.

L’uomo non riuscì a continuare per la sua strada ignorando l’uccello tremante. Gli diede un piccolo colpo con la scarpa per testarne la vitalità, provocandosi un’ambivalente sensazione di sollievo e frustrazione quando quello aprì gli occhi aumentando la frequenza del respiro. Fosse stato morto o quasi morto, l’uomo avrebbe di certo sperimentato un sentimento di triste sconforto ma questo sarebbe poi stato rapidamente diluito dalla percezione dell’ineluttabilità del fato, di cui, in quel caso, non avrebbe dovuto esserne un attore. Ora invece, l’uomo era chiamato all’azione, o almeno alla decisione della non-azione. Sapeva che gli scenari possibili non erano confortanti. Se avesse deciso di “salvarlo”, l’uomo non sapeva come occuparsi del pennuto: ignorava il tipo di cibo necessario alle esigenze di un “cucciolo di piccione” e le modalità con cui somministrare tale nutrimento. Non sapeva se andasse tenuto in casa o all’aperto, al caldo o al freddo. Si rendeva conto che se lo avesse preso con sé, lo avrebbe costretto a una lenta agonia, fino al giorno in cui, tornando a casa, lo avrebbe trovato privo di vita nella scatola di cartone. E di quella morte, ma soprattutto di quella ineluttabile sofferenza, l’uomo si sarebbe sentito responsabile. In più, l’uomo era in grado di capire come per quel povero uccello lui rappresentasse solamente un enorme predatore dal quale l’essere raccolto, chiuso in un contenitore e spostato in un appartamento, non sarebbe stato fonte di sollievo, ma soltanto di ulteriore terrore. Se d’altra parte lo avesse lasciato lì, l’uccello sarebbe di sicuro perito a causa del freddo, dell’inedia o peggio ancora per opera di un gatto annoiato; anche in questo caso la sua sofferenza si sarebbe protratta ancora per molti minuti, forse addirittura ore. L’uomo, a questa idea e alla percezione quasi fisica del processo mentale della piccola tortora che sapeva di stare per morire e lì aspettava, si sentiva male. Gli pareva quasi di percepire dentro di lui una angoscia acuta, come fosse lui stesso in balia di un essere enorme e potente e di un fato crudele.

All’uomo riaffiorò tuttavia in quel momento un ricordo: qualche mese prima aveva assistito a uno spettacolo strano e terrificante, ma che ora gli sembrava in un qualche modo sensato. Un volatile non identificato (era un Garrulus Glandarius, ovvero una ghiandaia, ma lui non aveva modo di saperlo) aveva spinto giù dal nido un altro “cucciolo di piccione” e beccandogli il collo gli aveva staccato la testa. Fatto questo, l’uccello si era posato su un ramo, iniziando a strappare piccoli lembi di carne rossa dal suo bottino. A quella vista l’uomo era rimasto orripilato, come rimane orripilato chi non è mai stato sottoposto in vita sua ai processi del mondo naturale. Ora però, quel gesto del volatile carnivoro si incasellò all’interno di un più ampio discorso riguardo la necessaria crudeltà della vita che gli si stava lentamente formando dentro. Quell’atto omicida gli sembrò ora una delle cose più vere e pure che avesse mai avuto modo di osservare; di sicuro la piccola tortora aveva fatto una brutta fine, ma questo era nel contesto del meraviglioso ciclo dell’esistenza, al punto tale che il comportamento della ghiandaia fu letto come un monito, come un oracolo in grado di agire da anello di congiunzione tra lui e il mondo del naturale.

Quell’epifania gli permise così di uscire dall’impasse creato dalla presenza della piccola tortora: senza più dubbi e con il cuore leggero, l’uomo raccolse il pennuto, lo guardò dritto nei piccoli occhi neri che gli parevano sapere già tutto, e gli staccò la testa con un preciso morso alla base del collo.

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architectuul · 8 years

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FOMA 2: Abandoned, Unused and Unappreciated Italian Modern Architecture

In the second Forgotten Masterpieces series we still stay focused on the Italian architecture. It is curated by Lorenzo Zandri, which captured the most intensive examples of forgotten architectures through his photography. Lorenzo traveled and explored the amazing lights and shadows of Forgotten Masterpieces: Palace of Congresses and Receptions, Brion - Vega Cemetery, Flaminio Stadium, Pluriuso Building and ex-GIL.

Monumental facade of the Palace of Congresses and Receptions by Adalberto Libera in Rome. | Photo by Lorenzo Zandri

One of the worst mistakes that human beings can do is to forget. Ignoring the past corresponds to a loss of identity and culture. And that goes in particular for Architecture: leaving our architectural heritage to the state of unconsciousness is an act of denying our collective memory.

Unfortunately, this is what happened several times in Italy: some of best and notorious architectures have fallen into the deep of the oblivion. Referring to our huge amount of wealth, I have chosen 5 forgotten masterpieces, mainly situated in Rome, my hometown.

This photographic selection has investigated different aspects of forgotten masterpieces, taking into account abandoned places but also trying to bring to light marvelous chapters of our modern history with a decadent and uncertain future, even if still used.

The first Forgotten Masterpiece is the Palace of Congresses and Receptions, one of the most interesting projects of the quarter designed to host the Universal Exhibition of Rome of 1942. The architect Adalberto Libera aimed first of all to endow the structure with a noble and elegant appearance, combining modern lines with a general classical taste. The sharp architectural outlines, the clean shapes and the attention for detail make the Palace of Congresses and Receptions a significant example of rationalist architecture.

I shooted these photos on a cloudy Sunday morning, trying to catch the essence of this building. Despite its uncertain construction process (it was stopped due to the World War II), this building opened its doors in the late 50s. It become a focal and majestic icon for the neighborhood and the City. It is sad to say that in the last years was privatized and rarely used for public events, even if it was constructed with a public aim. Losing its function of broadly based public and social enjoyment, is Palace of Congresses and Receptions probably scheduled to expire in the collective imaginary with the waste of its civic value.

Communication staircase in the Palace of Congresses and Receptions. | Photo by Lorenzo Zandri

For the occasion of the 17th edition of the Olympic Games in the late 50s, the government commissioned the Flaminio stadium by Pier Luigi Nervi. It is one of my favorite building. I live near and I have an extraordinary bond with this place, while connects me with very strong childhood memories.

It is a sports centre built in the homonym district of Rome, near to Piazza del Popolo. After the Olympics it has been used as a rugby stadium until 2011 when all activities were interrupted. Now it’s abandoned and in a strong state of decay, without any maintenance service. Flaminio is clearly an example of municipality property victim of economic and political crisis. This abandoned state increases the forgotten value of this building and for that reason I’ve chosen it as one of the most important forgotten masterpiece.

Flaminio Stadium in decay by Pier Luigi Nervi. | Photo by Lorenzo Zandri

Another iconic Architecture in Rome is a multifunctional building ex- Gil by Luigi Moretti. Designed in the 1930s is threatened with a similar fate as previous. It is one of his first projects as he designed it when he was 26. The concentration of various functions is reflected in a particular composite language made of sinuous shapes and geometric volumes, such as the staircases, the windows, the courtyard, the use of reinforced concrete and its technological features. All these and the classical travertine facade material make the building an important part of modernity.

When I photographed it was just like coming back to that period. Light and materials showed to me the sublime power of its Architecture. Although the building was for many years in a poor state of preservation, it has been restored in between 2005-2010. It is not yet accessible to the public, as restoration works are still going on due to the political and financing delay. After the process of restoration will end the building will be given back to public.

Inside of Ex-GIL. | Photo by Lorenzo Zandri

The fourth Forgotten Masterpiece is the Pluriuso Building by Saverio Busiri Vici. It is one of the rare examples of Brutalism in Rome, with a strong attention to facade details and shapes. It’s very impressive and it inspired so many contemporary projects. Its compositive taste in the facades is so particular and rarely used in Rome, that we can consider an unicum in its genre. Nevertheless, it has been underestimated for many years, excluded from the prestigious panorama of Modern Architecture in Rome and moved to an unknown and ignored limbo, until to be hosted from the Architecture criticism.

One of the rare Brutalist building in Rome - Pluriuso. | Photo by Lorenzo Zandri

Moving to the North of Italy we find the unique Brion-Vega Cemetery by Carlo Scarpa. Its vanishing dimension is probably its most fascinating aspect. With a soulful and storytelling place near Treviso (San Vito d’Altivole) is full of pathos. It was built in 1968-78 for the Brion family and made of great concrete details. As Scarpa said: “ […] I’ve tried to put some poetic imagination into it, though not in order to create poetic architecture but to make a certain kind of architecture that could emanate a sense of formal poetry”. It’s mainly considered his masterpiece, so much true that he was buried into the same sanctuary.

I visited the cemetery on a rainy day. Few people came and the cemetery was almost empty. I still remember what I felt when I first started walking through this place, all spaces and architectural details achieved to increase the sense of depth created by its architecture. It has been a meditative and inspiring moment.

Poetics of Architecture by Carlo Scarpa. | Photo by Lorenzo Zandri

In conclusion, I think that we should learn and know our history, raise our origins to make great Architecture, especially in a period of crisis where culture suffers and it is fundamental to rediscover our architectural wealth and its inspiring power for the good practices of the future.

So, please, don’t forget our masterpieces.

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#FOMA 2: text and photo by Lorenzo Zandri

Lorenzo Zandri is an architecture student at the University of Rome La Sapienza. Born in 1992 in the northern suburbs of Rome, he attended classical studies at secondary school and started studying photography on his own. The current university studies of Architecture have changed his approach to the surrounding urban reality and consequently to photography, developing a great aesthetic sense for composition and a strong interest between human scale and spaces. He has participated in several exhibitions in Rome, as well he has published online on platforms (Domus, Divisare, Artabout, Photovogue, Bestselected, Italianphotographers, Onfilmphoto, Istillshootingfilm etc) and on magazines (Poutpourri, Polaroid Selection etc). He is the co-founder of ZA², a photographic brotherhood project interested in urban and interior photography, and ROBOCOOP, an urban art project active from 2012. He’s now involved in personal researches and in-assignment reportages.

#FOMA #Forgotten Masterpieces

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melindarowens · 7 years

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EXPOSED: The Secret TRUTH about the FBI is not so different than their suspects

(GLOBALINTELHUB.COM) – 6/9/2017 For those who are not drooling on their lazy-boy high on Prozac and Lays (both strong brands) know that the world is not as seen on TV. But even in TV, on shows such as “White Collar” – the strange relationship between the ‘police’ and the ‘bandits’ can be seen and understood. The differences in many cases between a career Special Agent and cat burglar can be thin circumstantial nuances; and they often ‘flip’ sides, most notably in the case we all know about Frank Abagnale, now a successful security and fraud consultant, working with the FBI to detect serious financial fraud. Let’s take a step back for a moment; the “FBI” hires mostly accountants, and they pursue a number of crimes but most notably financial fraud. They serve as the police for the CFTC, the SEC, for extreme enforcement actions, as well as investigating a number of issues – from their website:

Our PrioritiesProtect the United States from terrorist attackProtect the United States against foreign intelligence operations and espionageProtect the United States against cyber-based attacks and high-technology crimesCombat public corruption at all levelsProtect civil rightsCombat transnational/national criminal organizations and enterprisesCombat major white-collar crimeCombat significant violent crimeOur People & LeadershipThe FBI employs 35,000 people, including special agents and support professionals such as intelligence analysts, language specialists, scientists, and information technology specialists. Learn how you can join us at FBIJobs.gov. For details on our executives and organizational structure, see our Leadership & Structure webpage.

What should stick out to readers in an environment where a potentially politicized and corrupt FBI (at least, the leadership) is the “Combat public corruption at all levels” – and going back to the age old regulatory paradox, ‘who watches the watchers’ let’s take a look at the old dog who made the FBI what it is today; J. Edgar Hoover.

In case you have not, and are interested in this topic, take a weekend and read this must read book about the FBI: J. Edgar Hoover: The Man and the Secrets – why bother reading about a figure who is long gone and has no surviving heirs? Because in order to understand where we are today, with the situation with the FBI and Trump, we need to understand where we came from. Certainly the FBI has transformed since 1972; however the power, scope, size, methods, political leanings, and other elements of the FBI still remain as established by Hoover.

Let’s dismantle some of the false images many have about the FBI. The FBI doesn’t ‘solve crimes’ as on popular TV shows like “CSI” – although they do have excellent forensics labs, this rarely (but sometimes) leads to a conviction. Primarily, the FBI relies on informants, “Confidential Informants” (CIs), tips, and ‘turning’ – a technique popularized by Hoover and used to this day. Global Intel Hub interviewed several anonymous sources to confirm this information. Here’s how it works. The FBI will arrest a petty low level criminal and get him to ‘turn’ on his boss; they will threaten him with life in prison, maybe poke his eyes a little or something, and get him to become a witness in court. Also they will want a full blueprint of the organization – and in exchange they will get into the Witness Protection Program – yes this program really exists and there are literally thousands of people in this program:

As of 2013, 8,500 witnesses and 9,900 family members have been protected by the U.S. Marshals Service since 1971.

But before entering WITSEC, which is an endgame, the FBI can use informants for years. CIs can be bank employees (i.e. Wall St.), mafia agents, corporate executives .. basically anyone. Take a look at the case of CI gone bad:

For 30 years, DeVecchio was one of the FBI ‘s most important mob busters.

DeVecchio was Scarpa’s handler, and Scarpa was more than an ordinary stool pigeon — he had also allegedly served as muscle for the FBI when the bureau needed some extra legal assistance in making difficult cases. As a result, he was allegedly accorded special, sometimes questionable, favors, including tips on coming indictments that allowed Scarpa’s associates to skip town in advance. But, in aiding his informant to commit murder, prosecutors now allege that DeVecchio went too far in protecting his valuable mob asset. Law enforcement sources say DeVecchio may have also enriched himself in the process.

Yes, you read correctly – for 30 years, “DeVecchio” was a CI that gave the FBI information about mob activities. A useful asset, but the underlying conclusion is simple – the FBI doesn’t ‘solve’ crimes. With the recent testimony of James Comey, a lawyer by trade, all of this needs to be taken into consideration. How has the FBI and its internal politics & policies affected significant events in American history; JFK, 911, the credit crisis, and others?

Another strategy which now is no secret used by Hoover, was obtaining secret information by trickery or surveillance, and then using it to blackmail the target to get them to do what they want. Hoover supposedly kept dossiers on over 10,000 americans; however long the list is – the method was simple. Get the dirt on the target then use it to manipulate them. If you think this is fanciful; again – read this book J. Edgar Hoover: The Man and the Secrets.

The point is that, there’s no way to know for sure what’s going on inside the FBI today. The reason we need to look at Hoover’s FBI is because now that he’s long gone, and there’s even been a DiCaprio film about him, we can see a bigger picture of what was really going on in the FBI at that time.

So it should be no surprise, that an FBI director, would be meddling in domestic politics – whether it be in elections or by dealing with sitting Presidents. Everyone was scared of Hoover, even US Presidents both before and after they were elected. Now, clearly this was a unique individual who built the FBI in his own image during a unique period in history – there will never be another Hoover. But all this history about the FBI should be noted, following to today’s FBI that literally is ‘creating’ terrorists right here in the USA:

WASHINGTON — The F.B.I. has significantly increased its use of stings in terrorism cases, employing agents and informants to pose as jihadists, bomb makers, gun dealers or online “friends” in hundreds of investigations into Americans suspected of supporting the Islamic State, records and interviews show.

Undercover operations, once seen as a last resort, are now used in about two of every three prosecutions involving people suspected of supporting the Islamic State, a sharp rise in the span of just two years, according to a New York Times analysis. Charges have been brought against nearly 90 Americans believed to be linked to the group.

The increase in the number of these secret operations, which put operatives in the middle of purported plots, has come with little public or congressional scrutiny, and the stings rely on F.B.I. guidelines that predate the rise of the Islamic State.

While F.B.I. officials say they are careful to avoid illegally entrapping suspects, their undercover operatives are far from bystanders. In recent investigations from Florida to California, agents have helped people suspected of being extremists acquire weapons, scope out bombing targets and find the best routes to Syria to join the Islamic State, records show.

Here’s how it works. The FBI ‘suspects’ someone may be an extremist (they are Muslim, or at least look like). They pose as another Muslim and start to engage in a conversation about making a ‘plot’ such as a ‘bomb’ – but at the last moment, arrest the entrapped individual. This accomplishes a few things, one – they can make a long list of cases ‘solved’ that would have otherwise become terrorist attacks (they are working hard for their 8 Billion budget). Two, it scares the population that the threat of terrorism is ‘real’ (when in reality, you are more likely to be struck by lightning than to be attacked by a terrorist). This is reinforced by the media ‘terrorism terrorism terrorism’.

The paradoxical question here is – left to their own would these potential ‘terrorists’ have committed any acts of terror, or not? Of course, foiling a crime before it happens is always ideal. But at what point does entrapment become ‘encouragement’ – we’re not talking about drug dealing here, terrorism is a serious thing (people can be killed).

But defense lawyers, Muslim leaders and civil liberties advocates say that F.B.I. operatives coax suspects into saying and doing things that they might not otherwise do — the essence of entrapment.“They’re manufacturing terrorism cases,” said Michael German, a former undercover agent with the F.B.I. who researches national security law at New York University’s Brennan Center for Justice. In many of the recent prosecutions, he said, “these people are five steps away from being a danger to the United States.”

The American Mafia, once seen as one of the most popularized ‘threats’ has been on the wane, as most of them have moved from petty crimes to legitimate businesses (or semi-legit) .. An organization like the FBI needs terrorists and other artificial ‘threats’ to justify 35,000 + employees, just as the military and other parts of the DOD need “Russia” to act as a looming potential threat to justify trillions in military spending. (Anyone with mild room temperature IQ knows Russia, China, Iran, North Korea all working together pose no real threat to USA militarily, economically, or culturally).

Bear this in mind next time the news media tries to distract viewers from real news – Comey is not news. It’s irrelevant. Trump’s reaction, irrelevant. Remember, the entire “Russia Investigation” never existed, it was all a liberal conspiracy created or to use their term ‘fake news’ in order to destroy Trump and use it in Illuminati style ‘killing two birds with one stone’ as a prelude to war and specifically to build a pipeline through Syria as the next “Iraq” to plunder, with project Ukraine a failure the virus needs to expand into untapped resources to colonize, and Trump simply stood in the way of that policy. The FBI being a critical component of the giant global octopus with hands everywhere, needed to jump in with their own tune to play in the melody.

For a detailed breakdown of how the global system works in reality (not ‘as seen on TV’) checkout Splitting Pennies – Understanding Forex

Order stuff online – save money, save time – enjoy your life! @ www.pleaseorderit.com

source http://capitalisthq.com/exposed-the-secret-truth-about-the-fbi-is-not-so-different-than-their-suspects/ from CapitalistHQ http://capitalisthq.blogspot.com/2017/06/exposed-secret-truth-about-fbi-is-not.html

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everettwilkinson · 7 years

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EXPOSED: The Secret TRUTH about the FBI is not so different than their suspects

As of 2013, 8,500 witnesses and 9,900 family members have been protected by the U.S. Marshals Service since 1971.

For 30 years, DeVecchio was one of the FBI ‘s most important mob busters.

For a detailed breakdown of how the global system works in reality (not ‘as seen on TV’) checkout Splitting Pennies – Understanding Forex

Order stuff online – save money, save time – enjoy your life! @ www.pleaseorderit.com

from CapitalistHQ.com http://capitalisthq.com/exposed-the-secret-truth-about-the-fbi-is-not-so-different-than-their-suspects/

#TrumpNews #CapitalistHQ.com

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hellogreenergrass · 8 years

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Singy Island - Week Nine

8th Feb – The Foca Hut, West Coast of Signy

Iain and I set off at 10:30am to catch the low tide that reveals a causeway in a lagoon in front of the Orwell glacier. This allows us to route to the other side of the island without having to cross the ice cap. Which today was not visible, a sure sign that you don’t want to be up there. The wind is gusting in petulant little bursts, the gaps between them lulling you into a false sense of stability as you teeter across rock pools and stepping stones that are too far apart for your diminished leg length. We may have jumped the gun a bit with the tide, it could have been lower. And I could have ended up drier. Ive been paying with wet boots and socks all day as a result. Over the crossing we stopped at Waterpipe Hut, an in case of fog/high tide hut, changed socks and dropped off some gin supplies before heading up the Limestone Valley: a steep gorge between the mountain mass that is home to the ice cap and the radiating ridge of that gives us the peaks of Jane and Robin. The valley was more dramatic than the view from base suggests and has shielded its entrance with a short but steep snow wall that hides the valley from view as you stand beneath it.

At the top on Jane Col we dropped our bags in a small saddle of rocks and ascended the adjacent Jane Peak. Some great views back to base and around the whole East Coast. This was the highest point of the crossing and it was a steady walk down to the West Coast from here. The Foca Hut is newer and larger than Cummings, more of your typical wooden shed type hut. Its got four beds in a good sized room with separate living/cooking area and Perspex windows looking out to sea on two sides. After a break, new socks and cup of tea, I set out to finish the sampling that I had been doing all the way from the tidal crossing and put out ion-exchange membranes amongst a Giant Petrel colony up on a ridge. Im putting these out around the island to get an idea of the nutrients the different wildlife groups contribute to the terrestrial ecosystem, so that when I get the data back from the contribution of my bug, I have something local to compare it too.

Back to the hut for a freeze-dried pasta dinner, and then we headed out again for a jolly to Amos Lake a few miles away along the coast. With no work to do I got wildly distracted by everything from feathers in streams to capturing my favourite combination of Signy residents: Giant Petrels and Icebergs. The light was great, oranges and golds seeping throught he gaps in the clouds. Now in bed, wrapped in a zipless downfilled sleeping bag with another Buffalo fleece lined sleeping bag opened up to be a blanket on top, I am slowly warming up. And my feet are dry for the first time today. Im writing by candle and Tilley lamp and the wind is just loud enough to make me cosier without alarming me into thinking the roof will leave us. Walking North tomorrow before heading back to Waterpipe hut via a different route.

9th Feb – Waterpipe Hut

Good nights sleep last night. Eventually got warm, then toasty, then cosy as hell. Was a drag to leave my sleeping bag nest this morning. Iain made me tea in bed which helped though…

We got up and packed, a slack three hours after waking up. Thankfully there was no rush, but still. No Alpine starts here. The winds were reasonably high as we set off and the air was full off mizzle and clag. The ice cap was still under cloud, which was now rolling down the mountains towards us. We walked along the coast, following coves so I could sample for a mite called Alaskozetes along the way (it likes to live just up from the shore). By lunch we had got to North Point where I had some more work to do putting out membranes to assess a penguin colonies contribution to the Islands nutrient content, collecting soil cores and some more mites. I set Iain loose to roam about checking out what we could see of the view and birds. I was working in the Adelie colony I had helped count a few weeks ago, but now it was desolate. Just a few fledgling chicks around, everyone else had left. There were quite a lot of dead penguins, and happy Skuas as a result. Im not sure if this is usual, but I couldn’t take many strides before finding another carcass. Im guessing they were the remains of fledglings that couldn’t fend for themselves once their parents left for sea.

From North Point we waded, literally, across Moss Braes, sampling as we went. Moss Braes is the most intact green bit of the island, a sweep of mire enriched with peat and moss that can be meters deep. After a mile or so of filtering swamp through my socks, we started uphill to a thankfully dry and stony fellfield ramp that leads up to today’s highpoint, Spindrift Col. Once here I was back in new territory having never been down into the Paternoster and Three Lakes Valleys that take up this portion of the Island. We found debris from an old scientific or engineering installation near a lake up in a hanging valley. No idea what it was for, maybe pumping freshwater down to the hut as this was done in the area in the past, although from a different lake I thought?

Arriving at Waterpipe Hut later that afternoon, I was pleased to see that it had a proper stove for actual heat, meaning I could be warm through means other than my own metabolism for the first time in 24 hours. And could dry my socks and rather sorry looking boots. I brought my old hiking boots along to Antarctica for two reasons: 1) they’ve been my loved and comfy companions over many thousands of miles and several field seasons. They’ve been around the world and I didn’t want to leave them out of this adventure. 2) Whilst BAS provide you with perfectly good Meindl boots, these are brand new and I didn’t pick them, so didn’t want to rely on them in case they didn’t fit nicely. Which they don’t. They wilfully try to remove circulation to the majority of the parts of my feet that are most useful. Last time I wore them they did a good job of turning my toes from pink to red and then onto a lasting shade of off-white, regardless of how they were laced, or how much I shouted at them to stop it. So my trusty back up Scarpa boots have been in use more than intended. As I look at them hanging by their feathered shoelaces from the beam above the fire, splitting at several seams, no longer waterproof, oozing with patches of glue from repairs gone by, I am giving in to the fact that they need to be put into full time retirement. And maybe even sent off to the hiking trails in the sky. Or the incinerator on the Shackleton. End of an era. Now I have to battle it out with the, urgh, Meindls *spits to the side in disgust*.

We took advantage of a brightening evening and headed out to collect a few more samples from a local cove and take in the panorama of the East Coast and Coronation Island that a few small hills and knolls allowed us. This part of the Island is strewn with whale bones. Not insignificant ones either. Blue whales. Vertebrae the size of small cars, and rib bones the length of roof beams. Before science came to Signy, this was an old Norwegian whaling station, the large tidal beaches made for good places to butcher a whale it seems. Even the beach outside base has a suspicious amount of white pebbles, which on closer inspection you realise are eroded and rounded bones of whales no longer destined to roam the Southern Oceans. It’s a reminder that most of the knowledge we have of Antarctica has been built over time upon the shoulders of fisherman and whalers who knew this place long before the likes of Amundsen and Scott. Like it or not, the evidence is here in front of me. And its not pretty. Im just thankful that its science that prevails in Antarctica now, and not resource hunting.

10th Feb - Waterpipe Hut

Two big thumps this morning made me look out of the hut window suspiciously. Nope, nothing but a serene view over sea and snow-capped mountains. A larger rumble and crash 30 minutes later sent Iain out the door to investigate. The front of the Orwell glacier was collapsing in on itself. After we packed up and got back to the tidal crossing, we saw that the glacier had lost 30-40m of itself to the increasingly warm winds and sea waters that have been knocking it back year after year. This latest collapse saw the majority of the cave at the front of the glacier, disappear. Now there was new blue ice scarring the outline of what was formerly a deep river tunnel. The Orwell is an interesting glacier in that it spill over the edge of a steep cliff face in a suspended waterfall. At its steepest it is near vertical. The crevasses that form here give the impression that this wall is held on by threads of ice and would collapse at any moment, but in reality even with this level of retreat those vertical walls may take years to peel away from the cliff underneath. Ice really does move very very slowly. What a noise that would make though when it finally does go. A lot of ice to fall a long way down.

After another drenching tidal crossing, we got back to base around lunch, and I promptly took the rest of the day off, enjoying a long shower, central heating, and hanging up my boots from what may well have been their last trip out. At least it was a multi-day hike in Antarctica. Not a bad way to go! I spent the rest of the day spending too much time on photos, and as a result may well have over-edited them all. I’ll let you be the judge of that though!

#antarctica

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