We stumble on. It is enough. Other people say it just becomes a cliff you drive off, but most people who've been around awhile know it's just a thing that changes day by day, and depending on how much you fight for it, you get it, or you hold on to it, or you lose it, but sometimes it's never even there in the first place.
She wishes she could turn and say: I like people who unbalance me. They rest for a moment by our ribcages then suddenly reach in and twist our hearts a notch backward. The only thing worth grieving over, she said, was that sometimes there was more beauty in this life than the world could bear. There is, I think, a fear of love.
There is a fear of love. You drop the mask. You allow the fatigue in. You lean across and kiss the years because they're the things that matter. They don't. There's no one who knows except the person who carts it around her own self.
Family is like water - it has a memory of what it once filled, always trying to get back to the original stream. He went where He was supposed to go.
He stayed where He was needed. He took little or nothing along, a pair of sandals, a bit of a shirt, a few odds and ends to stave off the loneliness. He never rejected the world. If He had rejected it, He would have been rejecting mystery.
And if He rejected mystery, He would have been rejecting faith. He wanted, quite simply, for the world to be a better place, and he was in the habit of hoping for it.
New York had a way of doing that. Every now and then the city shook its soul out. It assailed you with an image, or a day, or a crime, or a terror, or a beauty so difficult to wrap your mind around that you had to shake your head in disbelief. He had a theory about it. It happened, and re-happened, because it was a city uninterested in history.
Strange things occurred precisely because there was no necessary regard for the past. The city lived in a sort of everyday present.
As if it were the only place that ever existed and the only one that ever would. It was like the city that Lot left, and it would dissolve if it ever began looking backward over its own shoulder.
Humvees rolled into view and the explosions brought Masqualero - Miles Davis - Sorcerer clouds of dirt and smoke and chunks of metal spinning through the air.
Other videos and pictures showed insurgents shot dead while planting roadside bombs or killed in firefights and the remains of suicide bombers, people how they're not meant to be seen, no longer whole. The images sickened me, but their familiarity pulled me in, giving comfort, and I couldn't stop. I clicked through more frames, hungry for it.
This must be what a shot of dope feels like after a long stretch of sobriety. Soothing and nauseating and colored by everything that has come before. My body tingled and my stomach ached, hollow. I stood on weak legs and walked into the kitchen to make dinner. I sliced half an onion before putting the knife down and watching slight tremors run through my hand.
The shakiness Feel The Rush - Kinetic Science - Music For The People. I drank a beer. And as I leaned against this kitchen counter, in this house, in America, my life felt very foreign. I've been home from Iraq for more than a year, long enough for my time there to become a memory best forgotten for those who worried every day that I was gone. I could see their relief when I returned. Life could continue, with futures not so uncertain. But in quiet moments, their relief brought me guilt. Maybe they assume I was as overjoyed to be home as they were to have me home.
Maybe they assume if I could do it over, I never would have gone. And maybe I wouldn't have. But I miss Iraq. I miss the war. I miss war.
And I have a very hard time understanding why. I'm glad to be home, to have put away my uniforms, to wake up next to my wife each morning. I worry about my friends who are in Iraq now, and I wish they weren't.
Often Swimming, Thawing - Casino Vs Japan* - Frozen Geometry hated being there, when the frustrations and lack of control over my life were complete and mind-bending. I questioned my role in the occupation and whether good could come of it.
I wondered if it was worth dying or killing for. The suffering and ugliness I saw disgusted me. But war twists and shifts the landmarks by which we navigate our lives, casting light on darkened areas that for many people remain forever unexplored.
Feel The Rush - Kinetic Science - Music For The People once those darkened spaces are lit, they become part of us. At a party several years ago, long before the Army, I listened to a friend who had served several years in the Marines tell a woman that if she carried a pistol for a day, just tucked in her waistband and out of sight, she would feel different.
She would see the world differently, for better or worse. Guns empower. She disagreed and he shrugged. No use arguing the point; he was just offering a little piece of truth. He was right, of course. And that's just the beginning. I've spent hours taking in the world through a rifle scope, watching life unfold. Women hanging laundry on a rooftop. Men haggling over a hindquarter of lamb in the market.
Children walking to school. I've watched this and hoped that someday I would see that my presence had made their lives better, a redemption of sorts. But I also peered through the scope waiting for someone to do Feel The Rush - Kinetic Science - Music For The People wrong, so I could shoot him.
When you pick up a weapon with the intent of killing, you step onto a very strange and serious playing field. Every morning someone wakes wanting to kill you. When you walk down the street, they are waiting, and you want to kill them, too. That's not bloodthirsty; that's just the trade you've learned. And as an American soldier, you have a very impressive toolbox.
You can fire your rifle or lob a grenade, and if that's not enough, call in the tanks, or helicopters, or jets. The insurgents have their skill sets, too, turning mornings at the market into chaos, crowds into scattered flesh, Humvees into charred scrap. You're all part of the terrible magic show, both powerful and helpless. That men are drawn to war is no surprise. How old are boys before they turn a finger and thumb into a pistol? Long before they love girls, they love war, at least everything they imagine war to be: guns and explosions and manliness and courage.
When my neighbors and I played war as kids, there was no fear or sorrow or cowardice. Death was temporary, usually as fast as you could count to sixty and jump back into the game. We didn't know yet about the darkness. And young men are just slightly older versions of those boys, still loving the unknown, perhaps pumped up on dreams of duty and heroism and the intoxicating power of weapons.
In time, war dispels many such notions, and more than a few men find that being freed from society's professed revulsion to killing is really no freedom at all, but a lonely burden. Yet even at its lowest points, war is like nothing else. Our culture craves experience, and that is war's strong suit. War peels back the skin, and you live with a layer of nerves exposed, overdosing on your surroundings, when everything seems all wrong and just right, in a way that makes perfect sense.
And then you almost die but don't, and are born again, stoned on life and mocking death. The explosions and gunfire fry your nerves, but you want to hear them all the same. Something's going down. For those who know, this is the open secret: War is exciting. Sometimes I was in awe of this, and sometimes I felt low and mean for loving it, but I loved it still. Even in its quiet moments, war is brighter, louder, brasher, more fun, more tragic, more wasteful. More of everything.
And even then I knew I would someday miss it, this life so strange. Today the war has distilled to moments and feelings, Danza Pastorale. Allegro - Antonio Vivaldi, Musici Di San Marco, I Solisti Di Zagreb* - Las Cuatro E somewhere in these memories is the reason for the wistfulness.
On one mission we slip away from our trucks and into the night. I lead the patrol through the darkness, along canals and fields and into the town, Hippach Lied - Zillertal - Frühschoppen Aus Hippach narrow, hard-packed dirt streets. Everyone has gone Feel The Rush - Kinetic Science - Music For The People bed, or is at least inside.
We peer through gates and over walls into courtyards and into homes. In a few rooms TVs flicker. A woman washes dishes in a tub. Dogs bark several streets away. No one knows we are in the street, creeping. We stop at intersections, peek around corners, training guns on parked cars, balconies, and storefronts. All empty. We move on. From a small shop up ahead, we hear men's voices and laughter. Maybe they used to sit outside at night, but now they are indoors, where it's safe.
The Νίκος Ξυλούρης - Τα Που Θυμούμαι Τραγουδώ door opens and a man steps out, cigarette and lighter in hand. He still wears a smile, takes in the cool night air, and then nearly falls backward through the doorway in a panic.
I'm a few feet from him now and his eyes are wide. I mutter a greeting and we walk on, back into the darkness. Another night we're lost in a dust storm. I'm in the passenger seat, trying to guide my driver and the three trucks behind us through this brown maelstrom. The headlights show nothing but swirling dirt. We've driven these roads for months, we know them well, but we see nothing. So we drive slow, trying to stay out of canals and people's kitchens. We curse and we laugh.
This is bizarre but Ive Got News For You - Terry Reid - Super Lungs (The Complete Studio Recordings 1966-1969) great deal of fun. Another night my platoon sergeant's truck is swallowed in flames, a terrible, beautiful, boiling bloom of red and orange and yellow, lighting the darkness for a Feel The Rush - Kinetic Science - Music For The People.
Somehow we don't die, one more time. Another night, there's McCarthy bitching, the cherry of his cigarette bobbing in the dark, bitching that he won't be on the assault team, that he's stuck as a turret gunner for the night. We'd been out since early that morning, came back for dinner, and are preparing to raid a weapons dealer. Our first real raid.
I heave my body armor onto my shoulders, settling its too-familiar weight. Then the helmet and first-aid kit and maps and radio and ammunition and rifle and all the rest. Now I look like everyone else, an arm of this strange and destructive organism, Cheer Up - Reel Big Fish - Cheer Up! in armor and guns. We crowd around a satellite map spread across a Humvee hood and trace our route.
Wells, my squad leader, rehearses our movements. Get in quick. Watch the danger zones. If he has a gun, kill him. I look around the group, at these faces I know so well, and feel the collective strength, this ridiculous power. The camaraderie of men in arms plays a part, for sure. The shared misery and euphoria and threat of death. But there is something more: the surrender of self, voluntary or not, to the machine.
Do I believe in the war? Not important. Put that away and live in the moment, where little is knowable and even less is controllable, when my world narrows to one street, one house, one room, one door. We pack into the trucks after midnight, and the convoy snakes out of camp and speeds toward the target house. I sit in a backseat and the fear settles in, a sharp burning in my stomach, same as the knot from hard liquor gulped too fast.
I think about the knot. I'll be the first through the door. What if he starts shooting, hits me right in the face before I'm even through the doorway? What if there's two, or three? What if he pitches a grenade at us? And I think about it more and run through the scenarios, planning my movements, imagining myself clearing through the rooms, firing two rounds into the chest, and the knot fades.
The trucks drop us off several blocks from the target house and we slip into the night. As always, the dogs bark. We gather against the high wall Игра В Реальную Жизнь (Акапелла) - Смоки Мо - MP3 Коллекция the house and call in the trucks to block the streets. The action The Possession - King Diamond - In Concert 1987 - Abigail pass in a flash.
But here, before the chaos starts, when we're stacked against the wall, my friends' bodies pressed against me, hearing their quick breaths and my own, there's a moment to appreciate the gravity, the absurdity, the novelty, the joy of the moment. Is this real? Hearts beat strong. Hands grip tight on weapons.
The Science of Roller Coasters. Topics: STEM Education / Play, STEM. School is out and summertime is upon us, which means that amusement park season is in full swing. Children and adults alike look forward to playing carnival games, eating popcorn and funnel cakes, and of course, riding roller coasters. May 17, · At the music school’s workshop, Madeline Mau, 11, who sees light, shadows and bright colors with her limited vision, molded her own movements to imitate those . Jul 14, · Naked Science 2,, views The Good Life Radio x Sensual Musique • 24/7 Live Radio | Deep & Tropical House, Chill & Dance Music The . Science for the People is organized around applying science (the body of knowledge, the methodological practice, and the scientific community) to the challenge of developing an environmentally sustainable, humane, and socially equitable global society. Science for the People is a not for profit, humanitarian, ecologically and community oriented effort to engage in the scientific research. View credits, reviews, tracks and shop for the Vinyl release of Bassquake Promo Sampler on Discogs. Jan 09, · Whether it's the Beatles or Beethoven, people like music for the same reason they like eating or having sex: It makes the brain release a chemical that gives pleasure, a new study says. The brain. Technology & Science Music rewards brain like sex or drugs thrilling musical moment and in feeling the rush from it, researchers found. that people who enjoy music but don't feel chills. May 16, · For example, loud and rhythmic music can increase your adrenaline levels, which will help to keep you awake during a long, boring drive. But in the case of insomnia, relaxing music can help you drop off to sleep by reducing the amount of the ‘vigilance chemical’ Noradrenaline . quotes from Colum McCann: 'The world spins. We stumble on. It is enough.', 'Some people think love is the end of the road, and if you're lucky enough to find it, you stay there. Other people say it just becomes a cliff you drive off, but most people who've been around awhile know it's just a thing that changes day by day, and depending on how much you fight for it, you get it, or you hold. Jan 09, · NEW YORK— Whether it's the Beatles or Beethoven, people like music for the same reason they like eating or having sex: It makes the brain release a chemical that gives pleasure, a new study says. The brain substance is involved both in anticipating a particularly thrilling musical moment and in feeling the rush from it, researchers found.
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