Embedded earring infection earlobe

Tinnitus sound water air

My ear just started ringing,tinnitus clinical trials johns hopkins zayed,noise cancelling in ear headphones nz herald - Reviews

Author: admin | 06.09.2015 | Category: Homeopathic Treatment For Tinnitus

While we like to think all the performers that appear on these pages present a blast of fresh air, Darlingside is exceptional.
All four members met at Williams College in Williamstown, Mass., having sung together in one of the schoola€™s eight a cappella groups, the Octet, and at different times having taken the same songwriting course given by the esteemed Bernice Lewis. Don began performing at open mics at the boarding school he attended for high school and wrote songs with his roommate (remarkably, the song a€?Drowning Elvisa€? had its inception here). Harris Paseltiner was born in Evanston, Ill., and grew up in nearby Glencoe, north of Chicago, near Lake Michigan.
With once-a-week cello recitals starting at age 6, Harris developed a stage presence early. His father became interested in a cappella singing when Dave was in middle school and early high school, so he also got into it. The formation of Darlingside was an evolutionary process that saw other talented student friends at Williams playing for awhile in different formats. While a€?Blow the House Downa€? stood out as a favorite early on, as I listened to each song on EP 1 (2010) and Pilot Machines (2012) for analysis, it became harder and harder to favor any one song in particular. True to the banda€™s name, in a€?Good Man,a€? there are no easy phrases, no a€?darlingsa€? in here to describe the lingering addiction and loss of and separation from a difficult woman. For this listener, the violin-cello intro in a€?Surrounda€? is the first full introduction on this album to Darlingsidea€™s particular sound.
In a€?The Catbird Seat,a€? an oft-requested song from Darlingsidea€™s fan base, therea€™s a gossamer poetry in the lyrics. The symbol of a drowning man in a€?Drowning Elvisa€? serves to create an image of someone left for dead after the crash and burn of a relationship.
In Darlingsidea€™s debut effort, relationship dissolution gets a variety of innovative treatments a€” the group conducts a clinic on how to attack the subject melodically and lyrically from a number of angles.
Darlingside collaborated with songwriter and gifted singer Heather Maloney to release the 2014 five-song EP Woodstock on Signature Sounds. It was a blues number, a€?Save Me for Latera€? on her album, Me a€™n Mabel, that first worked its magic for me. Suzie has become recognized as an accomplished blues singer and guitarist, but she has many ways to seduce a listener. Suzie would gravitate toward music as a kid a€” singing along to an ever-present flow of mainstream radio tunes would make her feel good a€” but becoming a musician was not a conscious thing. Her parents had what looked like a cool record collection, but the stereo was broken throughout her childhood. The sole parental musical influence occurred when her father listened to country music in the car.
By age 11, she also was playing saxophone in her grade-school concert band and singing in the chorus. While Suzie continued to explore other instruments, the guitar, in combination with her voice, got her noticed.
When she was in fourth grade, her teacher called the principal into her class and had Suzie sing a€?Country Roadsa€? for him and the class. She remembers at age 11 or 12, taking her allowance a€” she might have done a tiny bit of baby-sitting to add to her spending money a€” and going down to the Sears in downtown Saskatoon and plunking down $14 to buy her first album, Supertrampa€™s Breakfast in America. When she got a little older, she got her own small record player and would sing and play along with records alone down in the basement, her voice bouncing off of the faux paneling. I conjectured that playing the bass gave her a better sense of lower notes or the a€?bottoma€? in her guitar playing. In addition, she had discovered the Saturday jams at a blues bar, Buda€™s on Broadway, in Saskatoon. Over the years, Suzie has studied with a number of people and works today with a vocal coach when she can because therea€™s always something to learn.
Fresh out of high school, Suzie attended the University of Saskatchewan in Saskatoon for a year. At one of Tonya€™s shows, her brothera€™s friend introduced her to the man she would marry about five years later.
She made some musical connections, did some gigs, and then got a full-time job working for Marty Simon, a film composer. Suzie also worked in other musical side projects to pay the bills, providing bass and lead and backing vocals.
Betty & the Bobs is a 7-piece variety-show type band which plays quirky music that its members wouldna€™t play in other projects. Suzie did solo gigs with guitar all through the years with Rick and the other groups, and is now predominately a solo artist. 33 Stars, released in 2002, has a pop feel.while Happy Here, released in 2008, is rootsier. Her most recent album, Live at Bluesville (2012), came about when a radio interview turned into a recording session.
Although her parentsa€™ record player didna€™t contribute to to her development, her brother had a stereo that could crank out the decibels and he allowed her to listen to records on that.
Fresh out of high school, Suzie attended the University of Saskatchewan in Saskatoon for a year.A  She was in a general arts study program, which included drama and music theory.
In between gigs, she worked the counter in a gas station, baby-sat and did other part-time work, such as helping an accountant with income tax preparation and cleaning houses. In 1993, a serendipitous crossing of paths in Toronto proved very rewarding.A  Influential Canadian roots music DJ Chopper McKinnon met accomplished blues player Rick Fines for a beer. Based on stylistic comparisons such as striations inside body contours and the presentation of horns in twisted perspective, several Paleolithic art experts, including the first curator of the Chauvet Cave, Jean Clottes, have accredited the Portuguese friezes to the early Solutrean of about 20,000 years ago3. In Portugal, the government did the opposite a€“ plunging ahead with a project destined to destroy the nationa€™s oldest cultural heritage by completing a 300-million-dollar dam whose reservoir will flood a valley packed with dozens of art sites spread over at least 17 kilometers.
Yet construction continues - even on holidays - and the water is about to rise another hundred meters. A male ibex with his head shown in two positions, as if he were turning to watch the female behind him.
As we drove up to a sentry box perched on the lip of a road into the vast, unnatural gashing of mountains at Foz CA?a, it was hard to tell if the young guard blocking us in a crisp red and gray uniform represented a well-heeled security service or an elite military unit - but it was plain that bluff and sweet talk wouldn't get us far. The next time the car eased over the knuckles of a road crisscrossed by up-ended strata, past empty huts built just of stacked slabs, and jostled between overhanging and plunging cliffs until an avalanche of tailings from an old quarry almost blocked the path.
Here was one of the places of grandeur where our ancestors had first grasped visions and then concretized them by hewing - and sometimes painting - images into rock panels. As I pushed forward and the river grew shallower, turtles became so numerous that their stacks toppled like circus acts from the brinks of submerged cliffs.
As a draftsman, I could feel empathy for the beast flowing into the hands that had etched her. This first frieze stood at a fitting point, practically where the reservoir yielded to the original rapids and long pools of the virgin river. Far away across the moonscape of rutted ramps, knots of men stood before tunnels as fleets of dump trucks, made so tiny by distance that they only gave away their magnitude by over-sized wheels, eased to the brink of platforms, and added avalanches to tailings. Above us, the titanium-white cleanliness of the cement plant's towers stood in bold contrast to the devastation, like a phalanx of gigantic chess-rooks bunched for the kill. According to press articles, the dam-builders had recognized him as the true discoverer of Portugal's first reported Paleolithic engravings, at nearby Mazouco, even though the doctoral student's mentor, Professor Vitor Oliviera Jorge, had stolen his thunder.7 They had given Rebanda a job as their obligatory salvage archaeologist when the new doctor somehow couldn't get a position on a faculty. In return, all he'd had to do was wait till their concrete curtain had gone up and its reservoir had risen into a sea so voluminous and costly that its drainage would have been unthinkable. My goateed interlocutor smirked as he told me I could try looking for the doctor at the complex built for the previous dam, 15A kilometers downstream. But I'd hit pay dirt: the fact that I might hear Rebanda's mea culpa was more than Ia€™d hoped for.
Sebastian elected to wait outside and embarked on Jules Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth as I knocked at the locked door.
Still, I complimented her on her English, sympathized with them for having to put up with this hierarchical bother, and kept spinning innocuous questions, while she kept waiting for me to go. When Rebanda's secretary came out again, to see if she could get either me a€“ or her boss - to give up as the wait grew embarrassingly long, I asked her what the round silos with tipped roofs on the hills had been used for. But the next time, after they had gotten used to my rounds, I stepped inside and admired a sequence of two eight-foot-tall maps full of pins. Something was wrong: in addition to the constellations of pins extending for 17 kilometers upstream from the construction site, there were dozens downstream, along the reservoir behind the dam just outside!
Finally, so many hours had passed, and she'd informed the doctor so many times that I was still hanging around, that I was forced by the sheer need for new scenery to vary my route, and drifted through empty rooms. The only thing the reports agreed on was that Rebanda had somehow discovered the flooded portion of Canada do Inferno by the previous autumn22 a€“ asking the EDP to lower the Pocinho reservoir by just 3 meters in November 1994 so he could study the engravings.23 a€?They told me it was too expensive,a€? Rebanda had told the New York Times. So who had shot these photographs, which looked like they had been taken when the sites were dry vegetated hillsides instead of among the muck and bare banks below a fallen waterline? I realized that the photos of the dry sites might have been taken before the Pocinho Dam, which had flooded them, had even been completed a€“ over 12 years before!
UNESCO had suggested Clottes, who, in an uncanny convergence of good and bad karma, was taken on a whirlwind tour of the tip of the iceberg at Canada do Inferno, then immediately whisked to a press conference in Vila Nova do Foz CA?a on Dec 16th, 199428 a€“ just two days before the discovery of the Chauvet Cave that catapulted him, as its first interpreter and protector, from the summit of the French archaeological establishment to world fame. But Clottesa€™ judgement was mixed, confirming that the art could be dated on stylistic grounds to the early Solutrean or even late Gravettian of twenty to twenty-four thousand years ago while suggesting that flooding the valley might be the best way of protecting it, since Portugal was ill-equipped to protect such widely dispersed panels from vandals!29 a€?There is no easy solution,a€? he told a reporter. What the press forgot to emphasize with quite as much fervor was the fact that Clottes had prefaced his Solomonic verdict by saying, a€?Whatever happens, the engravings must be preserved and not be damaged.a€? Clottes might have felt that he could safely pass the buck because no art conservationist could honestly guarantee the engravingsa€™ fate once they were subjected to currents carrying abrasives, burial under the petrifying alluvia that accumulates behind dams,33 and the worlda€™s most destructive solvent a€“ water, which would dissolve pigments and destabilize rock that had proven its resistance to aerial conditions over tens of millennia. While chatting up the gaunt fellow traveller at the construction site, Ia€™d pretended to make small talk by asking engineering questions, including one about the depth of the sediment that had accumulated behind the Pocinho dam. The irony of it was that Clottesa€™ efforts to be honest without irritating his hosts had been the spark that the French diplomats had dreaded.
Despite the fact that the great prehistoriana€™s reputation would remain largely intact, and with good reason, in much of the rest of the world,34 the Portuguese intelligentsia began to shun him. A€ propos of CA?a, two Portuguese rock art researchers, who couldna€™t stomach Clottes after his press conference, ironically echoed him by telling me, confidentially, that flooding the engravings could still be a blessing since it would save them from graffiti and those boogeymen of archaeologistsa€™ dreams, prowling collectors.
My guess is that he was so beleaguered by advisers that he was just trying to get out of an awkward situation as quickly, judiciously and diplomatically as possible.
I mentioned to Rebanda that I had just attended the lecture on Chauvet, that I even had a videotape of it right there in my camera. So it's true, I thought, drowning the site was Rebanda's solution to the problem of ownership of photographic rights.
But then, what about Rebanda's self-serving talk of photo credits, not to mention the engravings already submerged by the dam at the doorstep a€“ and his belief that the engravings were doomed to be flooded? Strangely enough, I could again see it being both ways, since the roots of tragedy are self-deception and entwined motives.
He must have realized that I was rooting for him to pull himself out of his tailspin, because suddenly he decided. Upon leaving, Sebastian asked to check out the Pocinho dam, so I drove round an interchange into an empty parking lot with planters. As the sun slanted over the plateau into the wilderness of the CA?a valley, I decided to sneak into a side-valley to the north of our campsite that Rebanda's map had cluttered with pins. Then, after breaching a wall of rushes, we broke to the reservoir's edge - and were met by a horned skull stuck on a stake. Suddenly, I remembered what Rebanda had said about the engravings' association with witchcraft.
Being obstinate (or perhaps because of the prehistoric setting), I started whittling stone, knapping a microlithic surgeon's kit, and then bent single-mindedly to my task - failing till I was disgusted with myself and worried for my victim (which I had bizarrely associated with Rebanda). This time there were two guards behind an overhanging military fence crested by barbed wire. The guard who beckoned us in was rearing a guard-dog puppy, which scampered around, tumbling over ledges and using its chin to lever itself over steps. Our guide was a decent young man who couldn't help feeling uneasy blocking access to these bold masterpieces at the source of all our arts. Still, these guards were actually tame as the locals poured down to catch a glimpse of the animals through the fence. After he'd hastened to take up his time-clock again, I wandered if there might not be even more testimonials of man's attraction to this classical Eden with its islets and fords in the flowery river, and browsed through a plowed orchard, along a contour which I judged would have been the valley floor half a million years ago. We knew the next dawn would be our last, so we broke camp in blue light to explore the teeming side-valley beyond the first auroch.
Not Portugal's - OURS - because this art is so old, despite its elegance, that we share the blood and genius of those distant ancestors who awoke to the universe, whether our cavalcade of ancestors migrated around the Old World or came across the Bering Straits 14,000 years ago.
Footnotes have been added to the internet version of the article to provide historical perspective and more detail about sources than the versions that were published & distributed in 1995. 1 The three discoverers of the Chauvet Cave were Eliette Brunel Deschamps, Christian Hillaire, and Jean-Marie Chauvet. 2 The IPPAR announced the existence of the valleya€™s engravings on November 19, 1994 but a video was made of them in 1993. 10 Bahn 1995 for a re-capitulation of the same accusations against the IPPAR & Rebanda. 33 Bednarik & Jaffe have been the most outspoken spokesmen about delusions concerning the protective qualities of reservoirs a€“ which not only inundate art panels with water but deep alluvial deposits that make their later recovery dangerous and impractical. 34 Interestingly, a few years after this appeal was written, Clottes came under fierce attack and even ridicule by many representatives of the French intelligentsia, including some of the countrya€™s most prominent prehistorians, after he and David Lewis-Williams published a€?The Shamans of Prehistory: Trance and magic in the painted cavesa€? in 1996. As soon as their results indicating that the art might be only 3,000 to 6,500 years old (if not even younger) were announced a€“ which actually made the engravings even more astonishing, potentially rewriting the history of rock art or even making Portugal the last bastion of the Paleolithic tradition a€“ the most important Portuguese right-wing weekly screamed that the direct-dating results proved that stylistic daters like Clottes had perpetrated a a€?FRAUDa€? (O Independente, 7 July 1995).
It should also be noted that the individuals who participated in the debate were often somewhat unwittingly drawn into playing secondary or tertiary roles in a struggle between the Portuguese Ministry of Culture and Ministry of Industry. 40 In November 1995 - six months after this call-toa€“arms was published and circulated to Prehistoric Art Emergencya€™s volunteers (who Ia€™m glad to report included a young actor, Yann Montelle, who went on to earn a doctorate in prehistory) - a book edited by Jorge called a€?Dossier CA?aa€? appeared with 20 contributions by him or his wife. 44 After writing this article in May 1995, it occurred to me that I might have missed one of the main reasons for eliminating Rebanda from Portugala€™s archaeological milieu a€“ the fact that he was so effective at finding rock art that drew international attention, first to Mazouco, then to CA?a.
49 When I wrote the article, I assumed that the two young men were Rebandaa€™s subordinates and referred to them as a€?draftsmena€?.
50 After initially denigrating both the art and the idea of extracting it, the EDP later adopted the idea as one of its three strategies for overcoming opposition to the dam project.
Walsall’s Martin Gethin might have tumbled at the final hurdle in his quest to challenge for a world title but the fire still burns in his belly to prove he is the best 135lb fighter on these shores. The largest crowd Maduma has fought in front of has been 8,000 at Bell Centre (Montreal) earlier in his professional career.  He realizes that, as a hometown favorite, Mitchell figures to greatly benefit from fans there for Froch and Groves alike. Maduma is the reigning WBC Continental Americas champion and he recently relinquished his North American Boxing Federation (NABF) crown. I saw Lois Morton play a Northeast Regional Folk Alliance (NERFA) showcase, then reviewed her debut CD, As I See It, for our December 2011 NERFA wrapup issue. I listened to a€?Side Effectsa€? about those TV ads for drugs and learned how perfectly Lois could encapsulate their lunacy.
The wonder of all of this was that I was listening to a grandmother who had, for a number of decades, been a teacher of English as a Second Language (ESL), an administrator and a therapist. She was a little prodigy, always performing for the family and picking out songs on the piano.
Lois was a voice major at the Music and Art High School (There were two coexisting schools, Performing Arts High School and Music and Art High School on West 46th Street.
At age 16 or 17, she could perceive how high the level of talent was at the school a€” television and stage actress and singer Diahann Carroll (Carol Diahann Johnson then) was in her senior chorus. She had taken piano lessons for two years in junior high school, but had such a good ear that shea€™d fake it a lot of the time and didna€™t practice. Lois played basic guitar and sang in a program called The Musicians Emergency Fund, which sent performers into hospitals to play for patients. After he died, Lois began to explore other avenues of coping and expression, entering several programs. Lois described how the song gained exposure: a€?I was involved in a community theater group and we were doing a show at that time. In a€?The Cell Phone Song,a€? another of my favorites, written about two months after the Clutterholic song, she skewers egocentric, obsessive cellphone users perfectly with: It doesna€™t seem to matter, youa€™re assailed with noisy chatter when you only want a quiet, peaceful walka€¦ Pretty much everything I despise about those people is in that song a€” but humorous.
Lois began playing open mics on Long Island and found that she could cross over into the folk arena.
A big component in driving Lois to embark on a new career was having a source of purpose and income taken away from her.
As she perused her earlier resume as a teacher, therapist and author, she looked at what she was doing as a performer and thought, a€?Who is this woman?a€? At first glance, nothing seemed relevant.
The banda€™s sound, combining contemporary folk, chamber music, a cappella and rock a€™na€™ roll, permeates the atmosphere with a charged, electric quality, like an approaching storm. There, at her urging, they were taught to a€?kill your darlings,a€? those lyrics that come too easily, are too facile or a€?clever,a€? that get in the way of the forward movement of the piece.
At his mothera€™s urging, Auyona€™s classical training (Suzuki method) on the violin began at age 3.
At Williams, his performing was confined to college events, occasionally solo and occasionally with friends. Harris good-naturedly said that, counter to most stories we hear, he ran off the soccer field in kindergarten yelling, a€?Dad, can I take violin lessons?a€? His entire family a€” parents, a brother and a sister a€” were all music lovers.
As he describes it: a€?I used to go to school early to play in a chamber orchestra, and then had a period of symphony orchestra each day. There was no stage fright issue getting up to play original songs with guitar at open mics in high school.
In high school, Dave was introduced to new music by friends a€” Dispatch, Guster, John Mayer, Pat McGee and generally softer alt rock stuff. It has a cinematic feel to it, and opens the door for a savvy film-maker to use as part of a soundtrack (or at least the film credits outro) in a story about taking an unexpected path and looking for a second chance for redemption. That, and the combination of the delicacy of the melody and the deliberate hesitancy in the vocal phrasing carries with it the sensation of heartache.
An a cappella intro with high, almost wailing oh-oh background choral effect leads into a rapid tremolo on electric guitar and a matching beat on snare drum.
Especially when further reflection sets in: only out of your lips could those words pull me out of my head. For me, their version of the title track eclipses both versions originally heard by CSNY and Joni Mitchell. I believe theya€™ll continue to thrill audiences with their vibrant melodies, meaningful lyrics and killer chops a€” both singing and playing a€” for a long, long time.
A brief Internet perusal reveals that Aphrodite had no musical skills and actually was a bit of a tramp.
Situated midway between the east and west coasts, I thought that would make her the Canadian equivalent of a a€?Midwesterner.a€? She characterized it as more of a prairie environment, so a€?Ia€™m a a€?prairie girl,a€™a€? she said. It was a large console that became more of a nice piece of furniture that they stored things in.
She said that, a€?My voice was the first instrument that I got to play around with,a€? she said, a€?but I got bolder when I picked up the guitar.a€? It enabled her to accompany herself and she found a lot of cheerleaders among her teachers.
She perceived that the other guitar player in the concert band had a better understanding of jazz chords needed to play in the large band repertoire. While she didna€™t disagree, she felt, more importantly that it allowed her to a€?meter-map out how songs move chordally.a€? It was good for her ear, she added. Her husband got a job in Toronto and they moved there in 1998, but the marriage ended shortly afterward. From her Wikipedia page, we learn Happy Here was a nominee for Roots & Traditional Album of the Year a€“ Solo at the 2009 Juno Awards. He told Rick he shouldna€™t be sitting with him when he could go see the bass player at a different bar up the street.
Not only were frescoes of rhinos, horses and lions over 30,000 years old found in a cave in the Ardeche on Dec. Although theya€™re probably right, ita€™s worth noting that these same specialists used similar criteria to ascribe the animals of Chauvet to the same period - until carbon 14 results pushed their age back over 10,000 years, shattering the notion that prehistoric art had evolved linearly, like technologies. In France, the Ministry of Culture placed its new treasure under the most draconian protection, despite the fact that the country already has the lion's share of Paleolithic art.
Standing right in front of some of the most spectacular engravings, the Secretary of State for Culture dismissed them as being nothing more than a€?childrena€™s doodlesa€? a€“ whereupon the students from Foz CA?aa€™s high school turned the official into a laughing-stock by presenting him with a schist slab covered with their own scribblings4. It's now or never, the author of the following article decided in April 1995, as he set out to evaluate the engravings, find out the truth, and propose solutions. My 13-year old son and I had flown to Porto in Portugal and driven far up the Douro valley into the northeastern mountains, prepared to maneuver around obstructions whether by negotiation or hiking through the back door. Still, here was our first encounter with the powers that be, so I took this opportunity to probe, and get a first step up the hierarchical ladder.
So I explained how Sebastian and I had come so far to see the Paleolithic glories that Portugal would be displaying with pride, spoke of credentials, and placed us (and our pen) in his hands.
Still, we had our bearings, and drove off into the late afternoon to penetrate the heart of the forbidden zone. We were getting closer, very close now, and could spy loops of a trail among the folds of a distant ridge. And here too was the arena where one of the greatest feuds between discoverers and custodians of the past had exploded since the conflict between Othniel Marsh and Edward Drinker Cope over the fossils of extinct giants in Sioux territory during Custer's battles. With swifts swirling in up-drafts around our heads, we scrambled and picked our way among sheer precipices and ledges.


Its tight horseshoe of cliffs and rubble made the perfect hiding place for our car and tent from the gray guards roaming the surrounding crests with binoculars.
Sebastian snuggled tighter into his sleeping bag, so I set out to reconnoiter alone, systematically working quadrants and contours between our quarry at Fariseu and Piscos brook. Somewhere among the jumble of a thousand rock faces would be an ancient image - perhaps masked by lichen or so faint one had to trace its parts before seeing it whole.
The numbed waters suddenly spangled upstream with glitter and so many flowery white tresses of water plants that the currents looked like sudsy pastures. After all the noisy demonstrations against the dam in Lisbon, how were they to know how much clout a nosy prehistorian might have?
Whatever was going to happen to him afterwards in the backwater of Portuguese archaeology had surely been inconsequential, since experience proved that nobody made much fuss over sites that were out-of-sight and out-of-mind - especially with archaeologists beholding to dam-builders and political appointees for access and records. According to the insinuations, he could have continued his documentation right up to the headwaters as his masters worked their way upstream step by step. I sensed that this crowd felt their doctor deserved to be the one to tell fellow archaeologists that they might as well ask to visit Atlantis. Sure enough, there was the 12 year-old Pocinho dam sweeping the valley with a clean curtain.14 But the silos of this former construction site's cement plant were speckled with rust, the ranks of its offices and dormitories were deserted and almost every window was broken. Fortunately, Sebastian was becoming ever more engrossed in Verne's book, spelunking towards the planet's core, so I began to gravitate down halls for exercise and companionship, coming to the door of the room where the secretary was braiding the blind's cord while two laconic draftsmen labored over tracings of horses, ibexes and aurochs.
It has been insinuated that Rebanda probably discovered Rock 1 at Canada do Inferno as early as November 1991.18 In Dec. So, quixotically, he had proposed building a dry-dock around the outcropping, and, failing that, underwater exploration. If so, the power utility may have known of incredibly rich sites years before the first blueprint for the new dam! Clottes was the worlda€™s reigning prehistorian a€“ the man who had risen to the pinnacle of the French archaeological establishment and held the only keys to the holy grail of art caves - the unbelievably strong and ancient Grotte Chauvet. After inspecting the 15% of the art that remained above water at the site in the rising dama€™s shadow, because the EDP had hardly felt it necessary to lower the water for the visit of the foreigner sent by the now antagonistic IPPAR, Clottes stepped before a highly polarized press corps. The dam-builders and their government backers felt vindicated while much of Portuguese public was crestfallen or furious.
The dam had become a poisonous political issue in a national election with the President and his fellow Socialists attacking the center-right Prime Minister for its willingness to sacrifice both the nationa€™s patrimony and vineyards to a flaky building scheme.
As if the owners of villas built around the new lake would really allow it to be drained 100 meters to its bottom - where almost all of the known panels would soon be drowned a€“ once every decade!
Suddenly, the Portuguese public felt that the dam-builders were not only destroying the nationa€™s most ancient claim to world grandeur and civilization, but that they were in league with a man who would never have been so cavalier with Paleolithic masterpieces in his own country!
When I later asked Portuguese archaeologists if they were going to attend an up-coming conference organized by Clottes, they recoiled. First, because Clottesa€™ retinue of hosts, diplomats and reporters was rushing him and putting him in a bind a€“ even if his stature, pride, and role as UNESCOa€™s expert on rock art had led him into it.
They even echoed his faith in getting dam operators to regularly empty the vast lake a€“ despite the glaring evidence of the EDPa€™s behavior at CA?a itself. No sooner had Clottes triggered a public outcry, than he began to explain away his tepid defense of the CA?aa€™s importance by saying that he had not been shown enough art to form a true idea of the valleya€™s richness.35 But the truth is, he was shown Rebandaa€™s trove of drawings from submerged sections and sites upstream36 and could have been more demanding.
After all it was a lot of money, the government was inflexible, the controversy had become a campaign issue a€“ which meant that his advice would seem like foreign meddling - and the elections were still far off.
When, in fact, the long-term rights for the cave in France would belong to its Ministry of Culture a€“ which was already attacking its discoverer, Chauvet, for the pittance hea€™d received for his pictures.
But I could hardly hold my tongue: why on earth had he invited people from this caste of academics back into his life - and the valley - when at least one of them had apparently abused him? The picture was compelling: SimAµes and her husband angelically insisting that the world must be told, while the hireling screamed demonically over the fire, accusing university archaeologists of trying to hog the credit yet again. If Rebanda had known SimAµes and Jaffe were going to paint him into a corner, wouldn't he have raced for the exit?
Both Rebanda and SimAµes de Abreu could have been traitors and saviors at once, and as long as I was with this archaeologist, I felt bound to encourage the savior in him.
It must have seemed like an insult to him after all his efforts, so with an anarchic gesture, he announced, what the hell, he'd photocopy their fax when it came, so we could enter a second.
Huge black derricks hulked atop the dam beside a row of gate-lifting pistons that looked like Big Berthas. We bagged the warning or omen, caught and released a giant water beetle - the kind that injects deliquescing enzymes into living frogs, then sucks out their juice - and worked our way along what was actually the upper tier of a disappearing cliff. When art panels are located in the CA?aa€™s side valleys, they are apparently concentrated on northern slopes.
I was a willing guide as we skewered corn kernels on hooks, lashed lines around a log and threw the lethal leashes into the dark. They were a hundred yards apart, making perpetual rounds as they kept time clocks happy by cranking them every few paces with keys chained to the fence. It was probably his first job after military service, but he was intelligent enough to realize that hea€™d been hired as a pawn in a vast conspiracy to keep Portugal's greatest cultural wonders out of sight and out of mind, till they could be obliterated.
One, because any plan to remove the friezes not only meant assigning a value to them, but keeping the controversy alive.
The mountainous dirt road forked, meandered and even skirted an imposing castle,51 but several classes of children were making the long dusty pilgrimage on foot while carloads of adults in their Sunday best made the excursion to see the only engravings to have escaped the censors - either because the site at Penascosa was so far from Lima Montiero's spyglass or because the valley was gentler here and had always been farmed. I hadn't passed the first olive tree when I happened upon a well-knapped hand-axe, and then another! On-line commentary entitled a€?Some corrections about the CA?a petroglyphsa€? in TRACCE no. While Chauveta€™s name was given to the cave itself, the names of his co-discoverers were given to two of its large chambers. Mila SimAµes de Abreu and Ludwig Jaffe were the founders of the APAAR (AssociaA§ao Portuguesa de Arte e Arqueologia Rupestre), which has been a member of IFRAO (International Federation of Rock Art Organisations) since Sept.
In an on-line commentary, Jaffe denounced what he perceived as a continuation of the scandal under new management: a€?In December 1994 IPPAR passed the responsibility for the rock art in the Coa valley to Mario Varela Gomes and Antonio Martinho Baptista.
Their critics often subscribe to the doctrine that modern ethnographic evidence cannot be used to interpret ancient cultures.
Although Bednarik was one of the earliest crusaders for CA?a - calling for the EDP to stop building the dam in Nov. The leftist press and Portuguese archaeological milieu reacted with just as much reflection, ignoring both Bednarika€™s qualifiers and his pioneering role in organizing the world campaign to fight for the whole valleya€™s salvation (see Dossier CA?a p.
Of the 66 contributions written by individuals, not one is by Nelson Rebanda, whose ghost a€“ to anyone interested in intellectual property a€“ haunts every line. After the CA?a scandal served its purpose as an electoral issue that helped the Socialists to win power, the new government kept its campaign promise by protecting the CA?a Valley but used the goodwill engendered by the decision to blunt criticism while flooding other huge assemblages of rock art. 3; Catherine Vincent, writing in Le Monde on March 11, 1995, goes into much more detail about one particular vineyard, Ervamoira, that would have been lost, along with its exceptional Port wine. The first was to prove that the engravings were not Paleolithic a€“ an effort that entrapped researchers who wanted to apply experimental direct-dating techniques.
Both times I was confronted with a sly, satiric commentary on the idiocies of human nature.
She had as keen a mind in viewing modern foibles as anybody Ia€™d ever heard and had only been pursuing this avenue of performance for a couple of years. Her father died when she was an infant, so her mother moved to The Bronx to live with her parents.
She decided to go into education, something a€?with a greater chance of successa€? than she foresaw in performing. She also advertised as an international songstress, doing a few shows she called a€?Around the World in Song.a€? Lois was in a Broadside concert during that time. After teaching school in Manhattan full time for five years, Lois took a maternity leave and she and her husband, son and daughter moved to Long Island.
The following year, 2007, she attended a conference of organizers in Minneapolis and got a standing ovation from 900 professional organizers a€” a€?Me, the client!a€? she exclaimed. She got her biggest response when she played the open mic at the Mansion at Acoustic Long Island in St. Shea€™s been using French in her songs for some time including the conclusion of a€?The Last Goodbye.a€? In 2009, an audience member, hearing her sing in French, asked her if she could do an Edith Piaf show, Lois asked, a€?How much time would I have to prepare?a€? The woman said shea€™d need it the following year. Therea€™s a new CD coming (one of her new songs deals with GPS users a€” whata€™s she going to say about that GPS womana€™s voice?) and a new concept show in the works a€” a show in Yiddish using a Jewish theme. She decidedA  to go into education, something a€?with a greater chance of successa€? than she foresaw in performing. It began with a€?Confessions Of a Clutterholic,a€? rising from her experience working with a professional organizer. Locked into air guitar, air fiddle, air harmony, listening to a€?Blow the House Downa€? from their full-length CD, Pilot Machines.
He received a fellowship to study music in Ireland, Brazil and Turkey in the 2007-08 school year and came away from his year abroad convinced that he could pursue music as a career.
There were Suzuki violin lessons early on for one or two years, which never took hold, and a few starter lessons in guitar at 13 to 14 years old. Then after school it was solo practice, lessons and chamber music rehearsals and musicianship classes and recitals on the weekends.a€? He picked up the guitar in high school and began experimenting with songwriting. I was forced to be in a play in second grade and I had one line, which I delivered incorrectly.a€? Even at Williams, when he took the songwriting course (which had a performance element), he still dealt with stage fright any time he had to perform.
Key members of the band got back together in 2009 and moved into a house just outside of Northampton.
Dave Senft (performance anxiety conquered) takes most of the lead vocals and Don Mitchell steps in for key songs. Therea€™s a depth that elicits from me an astonished a€?Oh my God a€¦ are you serious?a€? again and again. While there is cello accompaniment on this, ita€™s practically a stand-alone as an a cappella piece.
Davea€™s pleading lead vocal essentially performs a duet with the violin-cello combo and the voices of the others slide in behind him while backing handclaps effectively increase the listenera€™s pulse rate. But if she could sing, with her seductive skills, it might produce the same effect that Suzie Vinnick does. Me a€™n Mabel (2011) shows Suziea€™s skills with just her and her Larrivee parlor guitar (christened Mabel as a result of a slip using the word a€?maplea€?). Since there was no bass in the orchestra, she asked her teacher if she could learn it and take that slot.
She joined two female trios with different styles, Vinnick Sheppard Harte and The Marigolds. Kinga€™s Bluesville station, basically said a€?Herea€™s our studio, go in and have some fun!a€? The result was a typical Suzie tour de force of vocal and guitar. Chopper knew that Suzie was playing bass for Back Alley Johna€™s band, which was in Toronto for a gig. 18th1, but Europea€™s biggest open-air gallery of Paleolithic animals was reported just a month earlier in the CA?a Valley of northeastern Portugal2.
Regardless of how old the CA?aa€™s art turns out to be, it is unique in its richness above ground and astonishing in its illustrations of movement - with animals tossing their heads with the same stop-action dynamism found at Chauvet and only millennia later in photography and Futurist painting.
The Chauvet Cavea€™s prehistoric bestiary was proudly splashed across magazines around the world. Soon, the guard turned into a regular lad, wrote down the chief engineer's name and pointed beyond the ramp-laced moonscape - into the wilderness.
In this walled garden, the conflicting passions of archaeologists had exploded around a campfire, set a president and prime minister against each other, and cowed the emissaries of UNESCO. Lizards skidded into fissures, a rusty blade wedged in a nook beside a sliver of cliff garden spoke of an emigrant who had never returned, but the walls seemed barren. Over and over again, the scene seemed set, the rock stretched, but its lines were just fractals. I yanked myself up to a platform less than a step wide and a ten-foot long cow - an auroch! By holding the animal's form and movement vividly in mind, the maker had poured himself into its body and experienced a power beyond abstraction, beyond even tool-making, to thrill to the new power of passing through the looking-glass into another being.
A stream, running pure as its springs over crisp cresses between alternating bull rushes and crags, almost made it to the river unaltered, but met it just below the threshold and sank into an estuary. We had arrived at Pandemonium and would try to insinuate ourselves into an audience with the Chief Engineer himself.
Only one was so spotless and redolent of perks, though, with its rolled lawn incongruous in the desert, that we knew right where to head among forking roads.
I was hardly surprised when these well-fed pros passed the buck to the only gaunt and partially toothless fellow traveler among them.
So they decided to play it safe by dumping me on their pet nemesis, the organizationa€™s own archaeological a€?hirelinga€?, Dr. He could have added to his hoard of exclusive photos and measurements, imposed interpretations, and generally lorded it over his peers - for who could have naysayed him with his treasures locked a hundred meters deep in so many great watery safes?10 And to think that all the dam-builders' pet archaeologist and his accommodating superiors at the Portuguese Institute for Architectural and Archaeological Heritage (IPPAR)11 in Lisbon - to whom Rebanda had reported his discoveries at least twice12 - had had to do to pull off this economically patriotic (not to say mutually beneficial) stunt was keep their mouths shut! After having suffered at the hands of his mentor, Professor Jorge, why had Rebanda put himself at the mercy of two similar academics and representatives of an international body to boot - Mila SimAµes de Abreu and her archaeologist husband, Ludwig Jaffe, who represented the International Federation of Rock Art Organizations (IFRAO)? At least such nuisances would keep him from getting up to more mischief by turning up new discoveries. But, finally, a secretary answered my summons and let me into a vestibule empty except for a display of postcard-sized photographs of some of the engravings, and a cartoon caricaturing the scandal - which I reckoned had been knowingly posted to co-opt criticism. I couldn't quite make out the man's features through the crack, but it was obvious he was gushing recriminations - and no wonder: the entire archaeological profession had ganged up on the pariah. We all knew I had crossed a threshold, but, after all, I had paid my dues, and in any case, I padded off to the foyer again.
Yet they'd prattled to the press that they had found the art a year ago, and then more like two years ago, and now, word had it, a€?onlya€? three years ago25 - when it was always somehow too late to stop the process leading up to construction, which had only started in September a€™94.26 The gall!
Instantly, I whipped out paper and scribbled the fastest copy of the main map that my hand could draw. After SimAµes de Abreu and Jaffe had unleashed the scandal by revealing the conspiracy to flood Europea€™s richest assemblage of open-air Paleolithic art, the IPPAR and Portuguese Ministry of Culture had scrambled to get their own expert witness a€“ and, in a further twist, had asked UNESCO to recommend an expert to challenge the power companya€™s growing efforts to prove the art wasna€™t Paleolithic but recent27 a€“ in which case, the EDP seemed to think that the public would drop the subject as being the relatively recent work of peasants drawing their cows. For all their heightened sensitivity to having CA?aa€™s fate evaluated by a foreigner, the Portuguese press viewed Clottes as a referee and expected a verdict.
Then, as fate would have it, Clottes was back in the headlines within the week, announcing drastic measures to protect Francea€™s new crown jewel, Chauvet. And as if anyone could even find new art during the two weeks a lake might be emptied (every hundred years) while everything was coated with algae and grime!
Opposition editorialists had a field day with Clottesa€™ apparent hypocrisy and dismissiveness towards Portugal - and demonstrators flooded the streets. Two, because people are often driven to produce their greatest work and worst mistakes by similar drives. Rebanda was even fooling himself on this score, I thought - after all, the Foz CA?a photographs would probably end up belonging to Portugala€™s own ministry or even the EDP. Scientists - like lawyers - ply an adversarial trade, but the chance to put Portugal into the archaeological heavens a€“ and to boost their own reputations with it - had given many researchers more ulterior motives than usual.
Personally, I couldn't see anybody bedding down for the night and traipsing out the next morning with people who had announced that they were going to expose him.
In essence, my heart a€“ if not my mind - had taken his side for the moment; he was the underdog, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and I was concerned that he might even attempt suicide.
If I didn't mind coming back at 9 the next morning, he apologized, the approval should be there. But basically the dam was a streamlined machine without much need for local intervention or maintenance.
My unequivocal certification of their global importance only made him uneasier, as he didn't know whether to feel flattered or upset. We peered into a dovecot, a squat white tower lined inside with empty compartments like a city after a plague. Suddenly, a deeply hammered auroch on the rock stood out boldly as a road sign - alerting us to an entire herd. The geology, erosion, & silica skins protecting engravings all seem similar on both slopes, so I theorize that this positioning is not simply a taphonomic illusion created by the disappearance of engravings on the southern slopes. I wasn't expecting anything when I ambled down at dawn, but there it was: a big mound under the bank!
From what I could tell, even his draftsmen had decided to take the day off 49, once they realized the coast was clear. By God, I thought, if the flooders don't save them, I hope the townspeople storm the valley!
If the guards hadn't been under strict orders not to sell admissions, they'd have made a killing; but then any financial association with the art is anathema to the dammers: the next thing they knew, they'd have a revolt on their hands!
And like the first guard, when he realized that I had somehow gotten authorization despite my evident opposition to the reservoir, he let out his pent-up indignation - for we were insiders. As we passed the threshold between the deadened depths and virgin current with its billowing water-foliage, we had to skirt and climb over a sheer wall blocking the side-valleya€™s entrance. The intertwined couple, spanning the length of a single real horse, was still necking in Eden after twenty millennia. Rock Art and the CA?a Valley Archaeological Park: A case study in the preservation of Portugal's prehistoric parietal heritage. Although it is true that one must be extremely circumspect about doing so, such evidence often opens new perspectives that have more in common with the subsistence systems of ancient cultures than does our own, and the two authors showed considerable originality and courage in exploring it. 1994 - most Portuguese archaeologists with access to the CA?a sites now shun him as thoroughly as they do Clottes and Rebanda. 539, for a resolution, written in defense of CA?a, by Bednarik, in a book filled with vitriole against him). These retractions confirmed that some of ZilhA?oa€™s criticisms of the direct dating attempts were well founded, but dona€™t necessarily reflect on other matters raised in his disputes with Bednarik and Jaffe.
In the English sections, Jorge generously credits numerous associates and generations of Portuguese prehistorians by full name, while studiously avoiding any mention of Rebanda except where it is unavoidable, and then only with his last name between brackets. The second was to make casts of panels for a museum a€“ which may have damaged some panels.
As I See It is categorized by iTunes as a€?Easy Listening.a€? This is true only if youa€™re not paying attention. As I See It went on to lampoon a range of topics such as rude cellphone use, pack rat clutter, the weirdness of digital communication and kooky dieting. Her grandfather, a€?a little Jewish tailor from Russiaa€? had a voice like operatic tenor Jan Peerce. In junior high, a€?The Ballad of Rodger Young,a€? a song about a martyred World War II infantry hero, was one of her strongest pieces.
In 2009, she did another cabaret show in Manhattan and included the a€?Dieta€? and a€?20th Century Girla€? songs.
New York state licensing laws changed in 2006 and, uninformed about required paperwork, she was left unable to practice professionally. The steady, metronomic snare beat and driving electric guitar strum crank up my heart rate and provoke ecstasy.
His mandolin playing (minimal before the trip) improved exponentially with exposure to the culture and musicians a€” and their musicianship a€” in those countries.
Don credits performing with Chorus Angelicus, a touring childrena€™s choir not connected with school, as his most intense and formative early experience. Early on, he was drawn to the music in Disney movies (The little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, etc.) and the music of Elton John.
He didna€™t start getting over it until he began busking regularly in Boston and abroad, after college. Dona€™s lead vocal is softer and therea€™s a wonderful harmony blend on the passage pull me undera€¦ The sonorous cello creates a mournful, lament-like undercurrent. Having seen the band perform a€?Whippoorwilla€? live a couple of times, Ia€™m also partial to that track from the EP. Her previous album, Happy Here (2008), is lushly orchestrated and shows Suziea€™s ability with a torch song. I just liked the idea of singing songs off the radio.a€? She continued guitar lessons for two years, but there there were other instruments on her radar.
Her voice teacher, Naomi Freisen, was a classical singer but still appreciated the a€?Broadway beltera€? style and was able to help her with blues and rock a€™n roll.
Tony played in a style similar to guitar greats Albert King, Freddie King and Stevie Ray Vaughn. He kept in touch and asked her to come out for a summer, saying that he had a bunch of gigs lined up.
He told Suzie stories about the music business (some of them hair-raising, no doubt) and she learned a lot from him.
He told Suzie stories about the music business (some of them hair-raising, no doubt)A  and she learned a lot from him. While the paintings in the French cave, which became known as the Grotte Chauvet, often have engraved contours, the Portuguese menagerie may also have been painted, but, being outdoors, their pigments have usually weathered away. As shadows welled from the valley, we turned from the scarps and trundled downwards into the cleavage, till the road turned into a path to the water through a profusion of poppies. Finally, I discerned a flock ambling down through dry brush, then a shirt flashed a white dot, and we converged within hailing distance on opposite banks.


Even ideal panels on either side of a fig tree bulging titanically from a small cave were barren.
A stand of poplar trees crackled like Chinese New Year with small birds, abundant as leaves.
It was a good thing we had his name, Lima Monteiro, because the Securitas guard on this side meant business. Our compact car slid in among Mercedes and I stepped into glare, drawing cool stares from fleshy faces. My interlocutor explained that the Chief Engineer was powerless to help me, so he couldn't be bothered to give me an audience. Of course, the stories went, the honorable witnesses had refused to become accomplices and had immediately denounced the whole plot a€“ writing open letters to the Portuguese President, Vice President and Director of IPPAR - with carbon copies for the press.13 If only his employers had known that Rebanda was so naive! She announced that it was no use disturbing the doctor, who I could see through a jarred door talking to someone over the phone with peevish vehemence.
Finally, I suggested that she didn't need to keep me company while I waited for the good doctor to get off the phone.
That's strange, I thought as I wandered off again, mulling over a mental photograph of the site distribution. And here were others, even closer to the construction site, at "RA?go de Vide", which had been submerged by the same old dam!
Still, she caught me; whereupon I went on elaborating it, asking questions, and then padded back to the foyer again to continue my vigil. After all, the archaeologists and reporters had allowed the Tagus petrogylphs to be drowned with hardly a whimper. Not only did the contrast with his actions in Portugal now smack of a double standard, but there was a piquant irony. With stakes this high, both parties unleashed their opinion-making machines, making hash of Clottesa€™ carefully weighed words as quickly as theya€™d vilified Rebanda. Clottesa€™ words may have been earnest, but with stakes this high and politicized they were about as reasonable as Pontius Pilatea€™s attempts to keep the peace. I prefer to think the latter, and that his only mistake was thinking that people on both sides were lucid and reflective enough to interpret his verdict correctly. In Rebanda's place, I'd have calmed down and let the traitors fall to sleep, but then I'd have snuck away - trekking fast through the dark, picking myself up when I fell, but getting out - bloody knees and all - and calling that alarm first!
Furthermore, I had no doubt - whatever pacts he'd struck - that he would make up for them if only approached constructively. After we'd faxed it, I was sorry to see him having to still recall and refax, as he nudged the request repeatedly through the unyielding bureaucracy.
Sebastian and I scrambled and tacked among the carious cliffs, till there was nothing left but rock overhanging the water itself. But a huge horse, leaning over the depths, was both more graceful and cryptic, for someone had wedged a rusty horseshoe into a crack between its hooves. No sooner had I chipped the thin device and steadily shoved each curve straight, than the hook slipped smoothly free. Only Rebanda's long-suffering secretary had to keep her post and occupied herself by taking up the relay of calling and faxing. These red and gray devices were not only customized to match the guards' uniforms, but showed off the latest in high-tech materials and molding. As we wound our way down towards the reservoir among towering red cliffs, he took quiet pride in pointing out the hidden elements of scattered engravings. But then Piscos Brook ran between trees, pastures and cane-groves, with cliffs full of shelters and stone panels at each bend.
La Pintura, The Official Newsletter of the American Rock Art Research Association (Member of IFRAO) Volume 21, Number 3, Winter. In the same book, which Jorge compiled to record the campaign he was spear-heading to save CA?a a€“ a laudatory effort, if there ever was one, that made Jorge synonymous with yet another of Rebandaa€™s finds - Bednarik is repeatedly dismissed as a a€?charlatana€? (pp. Jaffe accused the trio, who had taken over responsibility for the archaeological resources of the valley, of endangering art panels and refusing to allow qualified foreign researchers or even Dr. Whatever the case may be, the problem of rock art conservation is still as far from resolution in Portugal as it is in most other places in the world. 5-ranked Mitchell, who has failed in two previous world title fights, stands between Maduma and his ultimate goal of a showdown with IBF 135-pound champion Miguel Vazquez. The torrent of descriptive terms dealing with the less attractive activities of homo sapiens demands complete concentration. She was supposed to teach drama to 6-year-olds, but the music counselor turned out to only play the tuba, a€?and he hadna€™t even brought it!a€? she said. Pete wrote back and encouraged her to keep writing and told her to send her songs to Sis Cunningham at Broadside Magazine. She decided not to do that after conferring with her husband, telling me cautiously, a€?It was not something that would have worked out. To date, shea€™s done about 25 Piaf shows, accompanied on a number of songs by Larry Moser on accordion. Although she might have chosen to give herself another title in order to practice, Lois had already made a conscious decision to commit to a career path as a performer. A genre that I had not written in before came popping up, that was very Gilbert and Sullivan with some Tom Lehrer thrown in.a€? Because she and her husband never threw anything away, after he died, she began the process of letting go of clutter. He played in numerous orchestras and his main interest was chamber music (he started in earnest at age 10), specifically piano trios (piano, violin and cello).
His father helped him learn the lyrics to a€?Under the Seaa€? (from The Little Mermaid) so hea€™d be able to sing it more effectively. She tried the upright bass for a bit, but didna€™t care for it and settled with the electric.
Suzie had no commitments in Saskatoon and enjoyed her time in Ottawa over the summer, so she decided to move there.
All that remains, where jagged outcroppings of schist jut from brushy slopes - exposing terminal facets perfect for murals - are hauntingly sinuous outlines of deer, horses, ibexes, and wild cattle called aurochs. The first flurry of press articles had mentioned that many of the engravings were already submerged by the cofferdam holding the river back for the more monstrous wall rising downstream from it. I sent greetings and the shepherd expostulated and gestured animatedly upstream towards towering slabs. For me, all of mankind's later accomplishments, all our later experience of good and evil only become possible after such art.
The irrelevant exchange had sparked sympathy as we both waited - and waited, in similar irrelevance to someone too consumed to give us heed. I would have to go to Lisbon, and no, it wouldn't do any good for him to fax; he didn't have an iota of authority. Despite all the insinuations about Rebanda and IPPAR, they were actually the first to try blocking the philistines with the clout of an institution as important as UNESCO. About thirty years before, Francea€™s equivalent to the EDP had taken the entire Ardeche Gorge, where the Chauvet Cave had just been found, from its entrance at Sauze to a rainbow-huge, natural arch - Vallon Pont da€™Arc, next to Chauvet - by eminent domain, to build a dam. These conscientious people know that theya€™re barely tolerated by the forces of Mammon - scraping crumbs from the tables of vast enterprises armed with dynamite and bulldozers - and make compacts all the time with them, telling themselves, for instance, that the alluvial strata that cement plants exploit are always too tumbled to contain intact Acheulian hearths. If only he'd announced the discovery, co-opted his employers, and splashed masterpieces across magazine covers while the art's existence was still fresh, he might have won honor, fame, a very small fortune (and maybe even kept his job).
Within weeks, local academics had begun signing their names to Rebandaa€™s discoveries, tracings, and interpretations while forgetting to cite him. I'd have been the one to announce the existence of the largest gathering of open-air Paleolithic engravings in Europe to the world.
Slate slabs, thoughtfully laid into a wall as steps, led down through a canopy of fig trees into a cavernous wallow between cliffs. I woke Sebastian in time to see the beast lumber over the bank and glide away, and then it was high time we checked out our other line at the doctor's office.
Noon passed as we still waited together like an old couple, talking about the doctor's misery, Australian rock art, translations; whatever.
The guards stiffened as Sebastian and I had the gumption to breach a forbidden zone and stride blithely forward. There were so many warblers piping and whistling, there must have been a dozen species with overlapping territories. Botha€? - Baptista and Gomes a€“ a€?were closely involved in the rationale to submerge the rock art (to 'protect it from vandals'); in fact, on 8 November Baptista spoke of how sedimentation behind dams should protect rock arta€? - my italics.
After our departure, Bednarik and three other researchers (Alan Watchman from Canada, plus Fred Phillips and Ronald Dorn from the USA), who believed that they had found ways to date rock art directly, studied some of the CA?aa€™s engravings during separate visits. 1995 that was led by Mounir Bouchenaki, the IPPAR formed a scientific committee consisting of Antonio BeltrA?n, Emmanuel Anati and Jean Clottes, who came back for a second round. Granted, there are some ballads that mean only to entertain, but theya€™re outweighed by tongue-twisting rhymes laced with brilliant sarcasm.
She had an aunt with a a€?wonderful singing voicea€? and an uncle who played a€?at least six instruments.a€? Like Lois, many in the family a€” her aunt and her cousins a€” thought easily in rhyme. The camp administration a€?put him in a canoe,a€? she said, a€?and I became the music counselor.a€? She played the morning sing-alongs. One of the places was Queens College, where her husband was chairman of the Political Science Department.
In early 2010, Lois screwed up her courage and asked Dave Dircks, the director, for a slot in the regular performance schedule.
She got involved with making a CD and putting together promotional materials and getting them sent out.
A long-practiced head-swiveling vigilance is the only thing that saves me from an express bus as it blows past me through the caution light at the 15th Street intersection. In high school, Auyon started to really enjoy vocal harmonies and the bands that used them. As he explains: a€?We fooled around with the idea of starting a band back in college, and then got serious about it in the fall of 2009. He took trumpet lessons in elementary and middle school, but drifted away from that (hardly having practiced to begin with, he says). Although ita€™s tempting to dissect every song, space is limited, so Ia€™ve just selected some particularly noteworthy pieces.
AsA  he explains: a€?We fooled around with the idea of starting a band back in college, and then got serious about it in the fall of 2009. Of the tracks I sampled, I was really impressed with the covers of a€?Big Yellow Taxi and a€?Love Hurts,a€? from My Favorite Shirt. And so, forgive me, but in comparison to these ancient windows, cathedrals seem to have anti-climatic and overwrought power. Except for the absence now of bigger species, this was how Solutreans had experienced the world - with whistling, mooing, barking, roaring and trumpeting not just on the Serengeti, but to the frozen north! So much will go unrecorded because of all this fuss.a€? a€“ So, Rebanda is resigned to the inevitability of the flooding, I thought.
If the dam had been built, a dozen known art caves would have been flooded or affected by rising water tables.
So rather than condemn Clottes, perhaps the Portuguese should simply admit his diplomacy opened the debate, even if one might wish that hea€™d been a crusader.
From Chauveta€™s pinnacle, its gatekeeper was probably right to dismiss the scratchings, which I too thought could have been the kneading of bears, but the contrast between the levels of encouragement was striking.
Although they granted him the discovery of Hella€™s Canyon (in footnotes), other sites that Rebanda had already noted were soon claimed by competitors as Rebanda was effectively silenced.
And Vitor and his wife, Susanaa€? - was it my imagination or did her name stick in his craw? Their stingy hypocrisy and philistinism revolted me: they wouldn't spend a penny on protecting such discoveries, but they'd drown the world up to its headwaters to keep driving Mercedes. Goldfinches sparked into the air, a crested hoopoo flashed orange and black, and the shaggy canes were a tumult of avian chatter. Jaffe was also the IFRAO representative of the SocietA  Cooperativa Archaeologica, Le Orme della€™Uomo, Italy (Bednarik 1994). But not before signing controversial non-disclosure agreements with the EDP, which was hoping that their techniques would yield dates so recent that they could be used to ridicule stylistic daters who had identified the engravings as Paleolithic (Baptista & Fernandes 2007, p. Later in 2010, she made her first trip to the Northeast Regional Folk Alliance (NERFA) conference, staying briefly, since she had Piaf shows scheduled that weekend. She had to develop a mindset in which she did not fret about every cent it was costing her.
While in high school, he took classes in music and performed in chorus, assemblies, plays and concerts. Other instruments a€” guitar, bass, percussion a€” were self-taught or learned from friends. The Marigolds was a more delicate, folkier group with a€?killer songwriters and singers who could pour out jazzy vocals,a€? Suzie said. Intermittent splashes smacked echoes off the walls, a frog croaked and some beast keened a cry we had never heard. When I asked if they could intercede on our behalf, she said one had to apply in person, in Lisbon, and have connections. In fact, paw prints indicated that we had missed cornering another feral dog or fox in its lair.
Surgically, it was a nightmare: I'd have to pry its head out, keep its neck extended, wedge open its powerful beak and finally thrust the treble barbs down its throat, so as to carefully extract their burr, without snagging them again!
Finally, they agreed that one of them would walk parallel to us, down the fence-line, to let us in the distant gate.
At our feet, frogs skipped like pebbles and painted turtles rowed earnestly in tangled water blossoms - all for the taking. Unless you and I and all of us together add our voices to those of the Portuguese citizenry trekking down for a last look, and reclaim what is OURS! The story of the denunciation is from Bednarik (1994) and Simons in the New York Times (1994).
In 2011, she was sponsored for a DJ showcase at NERFA by Barbara and Graham Dean of radio station WBCR-lp in Great Barrington, Mass. For our first two years as band mates, all of us lived in a house together, and we took turns cooking meals for one another.
Even the Chauvet Cave, which was unknown, might have been threatened by the changing water table! Unfortunately, Bednarik, who is one of the worlda€™s most encyclopedically informed, accomplished, and bold prehistorians, walked right into the trap. Jorgea€™s utter dismissal of Bednarik was clearly motivated by the lattera€™s implicit condemnation of the way that Jorge had appropriated Rebandaa€™s earlier discovery at Mazouco, instigating Rebandaa€™s secrecy that was one component of the CA?a a€?cover-upa€? (Bednarik 1994, p. As Lois described it, theya€™d role-play and her opening words to the person playing the patient were: a€?Hello! She characterized this opening phase as a€?a different path on the mountain.a€? She wondered if she could write more like these.
So, in May 2012, Lois did her own show and considers it her first successful gig in a folk venue The huge following she already had from the Mansion open mic was there for her. I worked with the organizer for about a year and a half, not so much in throwing things out, but in organizing it.a€? While they organized, she wrote a song about it.
He performed in symphonic orchestral performances in high school and sang in an a cappella group toward the end of high school. Suziea€™s robust vocals did a strut all over Tonya€™s snarling guitar licks while her bass provided a relentless throb below.
Later, Bednarik spear-headed another campaign to save a Portuguese rock-art assemblage from inundation a€“ this time behind a dam in the Guadiana Valley - and noted that a€?None of this helps the rock art of the Guadiana, condemned to inundation under billions of tonnes of lake sediment as the reservoir silts up over the next 70 yearsa€? a€“ again, my italics. In grade school she was, as she put it, a€?a big fish in a small pond.a€? This changed when she got to high school. He also participated in symphonic orchestral performances in high school and did a little bit of acting in college.
Do you think I'm such a fool as to invite the man who deprived me of the credit for my first discovery, to come see my greatest wonders if it wasn't because I needed all the allies I could get; if it wasn't because I even needed the universities to help save them.
Ironically, the mandarin in Porto would come out smelling like roses for his campaign while the roles of several well-meaning prehistorians, if I may insist upon the word, were simplified so as to make them better scapegoats.
This might explain his ease as frequent spokesperson (everyone takes turns) at Darlingside gigs.
First, because his dating system, which was based on determining the degree of micro-erosion undergone by a rock face, had been developed in Australia, where climate and geological conditions are different from Portugala€™s.
These days when she plays for Alzheimera€™s patients or older ailing people, without using sheet music, she just asks what their favorite songs are and she always knows them.
I was going good at the start and felt I was getting on top in the fourth but, after I’d forced him back to the ropes, he swung a right hook that landed to the back of my ear. It was the weirdest feeling of my life – a numbing pain – and after that I lost my game plan. This odd statement flies in the face of Bednarika€™s consistent defense of both the CA?aa€™s art and other assemblages, suggesting that it was a ploy to get the EDP to allow them to test their methods. I decided to have a little dance about to see if the sensation would fade away but it didn’t. Even though both men concluded that their observations proved that the art was no older than the Neolithic, Bednarik did not repeat the notion, when announcing his results, that a relatively recent vintage diminished the arta€™s importance or the need to protect it a€“ quite the contrary. But he was a good fighter who stopped Ray Beltran, the Mexican who beat Ricky Burns and never got the decision. How long did it take you to get over the disappointment of falling short of a world title shot at the final hurdle?
A few years ago not many thought I’d even get to British level so to fight in a final eliminator for the world title was a good achievement. A For now, if there are bugs you want--Just let me know and I'll get them tied up for you. The missus gave birth to a little girl Kadi so I’ve been enjoying a bit of time with her and the family.
The start of last year was a bit of a rush with the title fights against Carl Johanneson, Ben Murphy and Diaz coming so soon after each other. Though I couldn’t spar for a while because of the ear, I’ve always been one to keep myself fit. I’ve been training clients as a personal trainer and I’ve been going to the gym and doing all me runs. Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of sparring with Anthony Crolla up at the Khan gym in Bolton.
A  I learned something from every man I met or exchanged emails with, and Lou taught me a few words in Spanish.A  Ole! Starting out as a pro it was always my goal to be involved in a British title fight and when I fought for it and won it, things just happened so quickly for me. That’d be a fantastic thing to show off to my kids as they got older and able to appreciate it more. He also must be a decent technical boxer going by the number of national amateur titles that he won. We can take a little walk, maybe get our feet wet, and then lie on a blanket and listen to the waves. I do the same thing myself, when the mood strikes.A  And how about this for being an "in tune with women" kinda guy?A  A few days after I had ordered myself 2 new green dresses and several in black to add to my collection from a mail order company named Newport News, he sent an email asking:A  "So, what are you wearing right now? I especially remember fighting Nadeem Siddique in Nottingham and he had a very big fan group. All the battles I’ve been in before, against the likes of Siddique, Johanneson and Murphy, I’ve come off better.
I didn’t see Derry’s last fight against Stephen Ormond but Ormond has the same style as me. I hear he went after Mathews, gave him no time to think and beat him quite comfortable with those tactics.
A  For Christ Sake!!A  How about saving the Taxpayers a buck?A  In addition to that $6 million you've already blown by hovering and covering me, and scheduling a proper Face to Base meeting in your office; at my convenience? Besides, if I lose, they’ll start charging me again to get in at The Saddlers (Walsall FC)! Dramatic, but no drama.A  Short black skirt, or long black dress?A  Heels or boots?A  Camo, or commando? Until then, as in the end,there is much more to come.A A A  Once Upon a Time, a little mushroom popped through the moss covered ground of the Southeast Alaska Rainforest. Grant, Attorney at Law, Juneau, AK From Wedding Bells to Tales to Tell: The Affidavit of Eric William Swanson, my former spouse AFFIDAVIT OF SHANNON MARIE MCCORMICK, My Former Best Friend THE AFFIDAVIT OF VALERIE BRITTINA ROSE, My daughter, aged 21 THE BEAGLE BRAYS! HELL'S BELLS: THE TELLS OF THE ELVES RING LOUD AND CLEAR IDENTITY THEFT, MISINFORMATION, AND THE GETTING THE INFAMOUS RUNAROUND Double Entendre and DoubleSpeak, Innuendos and Intimidation, Coercion v Common Sense, Komply (with a K) v Knowledge = DDIICCKK; Who's Gunna Call it a Draw?



Tenis nike mercurial en honduras youtube
My ears are making a noise
Turtle beach x12 headset static noise pc case


Comments to “My ear just started ringing”

  1. For making use of function of ?�cash on shipment' is the truth can only sugar.
  2. Also Nature Cures average score well beneath.
  3. You listen to loud music and then and my principal care provider and maby see if some.


News

Children in kindergarten to third, seventh and expertise anxiety and taking deep swallows for the duration of the descent of ascent of a flight. Also.