BY KRIS FEDYSKY AND MATTHEW CHARLES KEMENY staff writers
THROOP A cursing incident prior to a council meeting led Daryl Menichetti to step down from her position as council president Friday.
It was a decision I had been thinking about for a while, probably since the beginning of September, said Ms. Menichetti, who will remain on council until her term ends Jan. 1. I tried to see it through but after last night I decided its not in my best interest to stay.
The cursing issue discussed in a closed-door session Thursday prior to the regularly scheduled meeting was aired in public by Ms. Menichetti, who accused Borough Manager Robert Hegedus of cursing at her.
Guardian Unlimited | Arts features | When Henri met Pablo
Rousseau, Picasso, and Alfred Jarry.
of a crinoid’s body, in fact usually at least 80% or so, consists of a
skeleton of calcium carbonate pieces, or ossicles, held together
by ligaments and muscles. This skeleton explains both why crinoids make
good fossils (calcium carbonate is basically limestone) and why not too
many creatures subsist on a crinoid diet (they’re highly crunchy). It also
forms the basis for crinoid classification. Fortunately for taxonomists
around the world, this skeleton is usually covered only with a thin epidermis
(and is thus an endoskeleton) and is clearly visible although you generally
need a dissecting microscope to see many diagnostic features. With few
exceptions, crinoid soft parts are not especially important in classification,
but this is probably because they’re a pain to deal with and few people
have bothered. We’ll discuss visceral matters later.
The crinoid body consists of three basic parts. A segmented stalk
(1) supports a cuplike calyx or aboral cup (2), which contains
or supports the viscera and from which radiate five segmented and usually
branched rays (3). Stalks consist of a series of ossicles called
columnals held together by ligaments, plus a variety of holdfast
structures. Sea lilies retain a stalk throughout their lives. Comatulids
develop a stalk following a larval stage, but shed all but the topmost
segment to take up a free-living existence as juveniles.
Strange Horizons Fiction: The Great Old Pumpkin, by John Aegard
As you are no doubt aware, I am the issue of solid Dutch stock—the prosperous Van Pelt family of St. Paul. Mine was a comfortable and happy childhood, and I spent much of it in the devoted service of the Great Old Pumpkin. For him, I cultivated an annual pumpkin patch—mostly Autumn Gold and Big Max, as I thought he would find the Atlantic Giants tacky. I also evangelized him in the community, relating the tale of how, every year on Hallowmas Eve, the day when the spiritual most strongly encroaches on the substantial, this mightiest of gourds would rise to revel across the world with the most sincere of his adorers. My neighbors were understandably skeptical; after all, not once had this superbeing ever chosen to grace my pumpkin patch or any other place in our town. I vowed that I would coax him into my backyard, and I set out in the manner of a learned man to discover how I might do this.
Props to BoingBoing who pointed this out several times.
Independent Online Edition > Interviews : Karlheinz Stockhausen: At home with the bête noire of classical music
N.B.: not one of my friends; that’s the title of the page.
These are notes on James Acord, that I hope to flesh out, later.
Acord began the painstaking work of carving his reliquary in 1980, but it wasn’t until 1986 that a friendly tip led him to a source of uranium: Fiesta Red, the antique orange dinnerware with the uranium-containing glaze. In no time at all, Acord had accumulated substantial quantities of Fiesta dinnerware and even devised a technique for extracting and concentrating the glaze. Desirous that the uranium content of his precious concentrate be analyzed, Acord went to the State of Washington’s Radiation Control Program. But instead of analyzing his uranium, they confiscated it! Adding insult to injury, they informed Acord that any future attempts to separate the glaze would be construed as processing and require a license! The application alone would cost $27,000 and if the license were granted, the annual fees would exceed a quarter of a million dollars.
The alternative wasn’t much better. Unless he were licensed, he could possess no more than 15 pounds of Fiestaware at any one time. Furthermore, chemical separations would be forbidden and a license would have to be obtained by anyone purchasing Acord’s work. Sales prospects looked grim!
Even so, Acord continued work on the reliquary, and by 1988 it was almost complete. Five foot high, a stepped base supports a gradually tapered column. From the top of the column, like a fossil out of bedrock, emerges the skull of a horse. Philip Schuyler, author of the quintessential New Yorker articles on Acord, speculated that it might be a knight from a gargantuan chess game. But Acord said no – he just liked the way it looked. All it lacked was uranium.
In late 1988, Acord got his big break. The NRC ruled that the 15 pound limit applied to source material, not the dinnerware itself. Free to complete his sculpture as long as it contained no more than 20% glaze, Acord encapsulated his Fiestaware in a stainless steel vessel and sealed the container in the base of the sculpture. The reliquary was complete. He called it “Monstrance for a Gray Horse.”
Prompted to find other uses for his remaining stockpile of Fiestaware, Acord created the “Atomic Fiesta Plasma Reactor.” The reactor consists of stacked Fiesta Red dinnerware submerged in a 30 gallon fish tank and it takes advantage of the differing vapor pressures of ordinary and heavy water. By continuously bubbling air through the tank, the light water is preferentially evaporated while the naturally-occurring heavy water is concentrated. Acord calculates that in several thousand years the heavy water content will be sufficient for the reactor to achieve criticality. The precise moment will be identified by the sudden appearance of floating fish – fried, ready to eat.
The Fiesta Plasma Reactor (now decommissioned) made its last appearance in 1988 at a special showing of Acord’s art. The exhibit marked his decision to leave Seattle for the greener pastures, figuratively speaking, of Richland Washington, site of the Department of Energy’s Hanford reservation.
See also: u.art
Just when you think you’ve got it figured out, you realize that you don’t.
If there was ever a song that truly needed the Sherry Lewis/Lambchop “This is the Song that Never Ends” treatment — this is it.
I have nothing to rock about and I am rocking about it.
WFMU’s Beware of the Blog: The Greatest Rock Record By A Scottish Band About Absolutely Nothing (MP3s)
qwantz.com – dinosaur comics – October 17th 2005 – language: acquisition and evolution (plus a little bit of rage).
The Times-Tribune – News – 10/18/2005 – Boiling mad over bad water
More coverage on this, later.
This is in my parents’ neighborhood. Fortunately, they’re not on a well.
ArtLad points out a truism:
Writing is harder than drawing because you have to get the letters right and remember how they are all spelled.
Anyway, check out his drawings and accompanying commentary. ArtLad, as the name might imply, is but a lad — all of 6 years old. I do believe he gets a wee bit of help with the typing.
Avant News: Movie Review – Entertainment – Oliver Stone’s ‘Finnegans Wake’
On the difficulties of displaying poetry on the web, or in eReaders.
Charles Platt was suspicious of Nickled and Dimed, so he decided to work at WalMart.