The Celtics delivered a nice pack

<a title="The Celtics delivered a nice pack" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9xKYL5Fs6iPNDIg7DslbOXobkvD_GP-4xYDfClGO8tSIwl82VbFHNgvXtpv0USdPDASQ8_JfXPsHp7aRLbItqpmJqTqGXFXQdSp4snu5lCmQjFBfitSEp21hQhz5VKVBVgIHsW82RGk/s1600/cars_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img alt="The Celtics delivered a nice pack" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii9xKYL5Fs6iPNDIg7DslbOXobkvD_GP-4xYDfClGO8tSIwl82VbFHNgvXtpv0USdPDASQ8_JfXPsHp7aRLbItqpmJqTqGXFXQdSp4snu5lCmQjFBfitSEp21hQhz5VKVBVgIHsW82RGk/s800/cars_1.jpg" title="The Celtics delivered a nice pack" /></a><br /><br />I found myself lying prone upon a bed of yellowish, mosslike vegetation which stretched around me in all directions for interminable miles. I seemed to be lying in a deep, circular basin, along the outer verge of which I could distinguish the irregularities of low hills.<br /><br />It was midday, the sun was shining full upon me and the heat of it was rather intense upon my naked body, yet no greater than would have been true under similar conditions on an Arizona desert. Here and there were slight outcroppings of quartz-bearing rock which glistened in the sunlight; and a little to my left, perhaps a hundred yards, appeared a low, walled enclosure about four feet in height. No water, and no other vegetation than the moss was in evidence, and as I was somewhat thirsty I determined to do a little exploring.<br /><br />Springing to my feet I received my first Martian surprise, for the effort, which on Earth would have brought me standing upright, carried me into the Martian air to the height of about three yards. I alighted softly upon the ground, however, without appreciable shock or jar. Now commenced a series of evolutions which even then seemed ludicrous in the extreme. I found that I must learn to walk all over again, as the muscular exertion which carried me easily and safely upon Earth played strange antics with me upon Mars.<br /><br />[bgallery] [img alt="other fashion" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2cbUPcmfe8Y0at8x0plxhJZ2f3ZheiiFMSGM0q5dXFP22gHgOfDBKQghCpH49UTDUTb0xR9H8_S78aSwaFdq1l8uqjIrMOdrd8wl8VXKxR3h5rI2SQuPEVnUZWc4yZ__z5_stJV-6LJY/s1600/cars_5.jpg"][/img] [img alt="Interior" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXhiglwkpdmNbSNft4f1q5b1Tere84-ziFpmGQVvXlfD0XpGND2GT7EdEGkMnVs23uZBDN5_z0A9PKP9noUgxZM7vAZGTW4AUtTTYtHzgrAgPj0ts5LQVLGGDyhYPSl-syHpKLVxPcs48/s1600/cars_6.jpg"][/img] [img alt="Wedding" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdcFCpbd7W8MdGnni0WprYp5qf5WWQb4g-pVHHNT2WtgGImq_Kdj0K0S8bLmSpgFPCYlUxZAjEnhgxuwjLsy8sLAFrSOKrhOZWHrxcua1-E-8C7ursKRi3tsctSHR8xdckgsK5RHwWRA/s1600/cars_7.jpg"][/img] [img alt="fashion" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxH8NnCpzwnitMUvnF_TNnrQNjeeRTin2vFzBUQ7jhlSadjPv3kMGZJadldqXoc80GmZuEa99pP-8kRsWtmuE_cM9rMrnD0jpjsgaxWMY_tRkSjFLtJrbFtqS-Rk5WIHXQ-L8w6gjlROM/s1600/cars_4.jpg"][/img] [img alt="flower" src=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGtysMeeOHTv_ju8u01jNUT8xUeaNDca8Br2BlwLyQNcwiChm7g3Bvx0xf1KxbqZufuzYdqV2cnG83ON97irhKfJdFCUygC3rmBNLoYPqWFcsgy-03mDNiOdAhniJ0MYI2CGtwL7inOms/s1600/cars_2.jpg"][/img] [/bgallery]<br /><br />Instead of progressing in a sane and dignified manner, my attempts to walk resulted in a variety of hops which took me clear of the ground a couple of feet at each step and landed me sprawling upon my face or back at the end of each second or third hop. My muscles, perfectly attuned and accustomed to the force of gravity on Earth, played the mischief with me in attempting for the first time to cope with the lesser gravitation and lower air pressure on Mars.<br /><br />I was determined, however, to explore the low structure which was the only evidence of habitation in sight, and so I hit upon the unique plan of reverting to first principles in locomotion, creeping. I did fairly well at this and in a few moments had reached the low, encircling wall of the enclosure.<br /><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">There appeared to be no doors or windows upon the side nearest me, but as the wall was but about four feet high I cautiously gained my feet and peered over the top upon the strangest sight it had ever been given me to see.</blockquote><br />The roof of the enclosure was of solid glass about four or five inches in thickness, and beneath this were several hundred large eggs, perfectly round and snowy white. The eggs were nearly uniform in size being about two and one-half feet in diameter.<br /><br />Five or six had already hatched and the grotesque caricatures which sat blinking in the sunlight were enough to cause me to doubt my sanity. They seemed mostly head, with little scrawny bodies, long necks and six legs, or, as I afterward learned, two legs and two arms, with an intermediary pair of limbs which could be used at will either as arms or legs. Their eyes were set at the extreme sides of their heads a trifle above the center and protruded in such a manner that they could be directed either forward or back and also independently of each other, thus permitting this queer animal to look in any direction, or in two directions at once, without the necessity of turning the head.<br /><br />The ears, which were slightly above the eyes and closer together, were small, cup-shaped antennae, protruding not more than an inch on these young specimens. Their noses were but longitudinal slits in the center of their faces, midway between their mouths and ears.<br /><br />There was no hair on their bodies, which were of a very light yellowish-green color. In the adults, as I was to learn quite soon, this color deepens to an olive green and is darker in the male than in the female. Further, the heads of the adults are not so out of proportion to their bodies as in the case of the young.

The Celtics delivered a nice pack

I found myself lying prone upon a bed of yellowish, mosslike vegetation which stretched around me in all directions for interminable miles. ...

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City Breaks – Ride to Amsterdam

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ydFqdKxh8MX8owGaigJRfltFt9Yf64geQr1VzeroW_lCLU3EqVc7P26iU7dz-JIqDOJyolYRINCpdA8wEFvSVMvVjw9BsWPfXiQN2BxGA_4vPZPE_nZ5KUeST4LeFWA1u30QhRqewD8/s1600/city_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ydFqdKxh8MX8owGaigJRfltFt9Yf64geQr1VzeroW_lCLU3EqVc7P26iU7dz-JIqDOJyolYRINCpdA8wEFvSVMvVjw9BsWPfXiQN2BxGA_4vPZPE_nZ5KUeST4LeFWA1u30QhRqewD8/s1600/city_2.jpg" /></a></div>Nor, at any time, by night or day could the mariners now step upon the deck, unless Ahab was before them; either standing in his pivot-hole, or exactly pacing the planks between two undeviating limits,—the main-mast and the mizen; or else they saw him standing in the cabin-scuttle,—his living foot advanced upon the deck, as if to step; his hat slouched heavily over his eyes; so that however motionless he stood, however the days and nights were added on, that he had not swung in his hammock; yet hidden beneath that slouching hat, they could never tell unerringly whether, for all this, his eyes were really closed at times; or whether he was still intently scanning them; no matter, though he stood so in the scuttle for a whole hour on the stretch, and the unheeded night-damp gathered in beads of dew upon that stone-carved coat and hat. The clothes that the night had wet, the next day's sunshine dried upon him; and so, day after day, and night after night; he went no more beneath the planks; whatever he wanted from the cabin that thing he sent for.<br /><br />He ate in the same open air; that is, his two only meals,—breakfast and dinner: supper he never touched; nor reaped his beard; which darkly grew all gnarled, as unearthed roots of trees blown over, which still grow idly on at naked base, though perished in the upper verdure. But though his whole life was now become one watch on deck; and though the Parsee's mystic watch was without intermission as his own; yet these two never seemed to speak—one man to the other—unless at long intervals some passing unmomentous matter made it necessary. Though such a potent spell seemed secretly to join the twain; openly, and to the awe-struck crew, they seemed pole-like asunder. If by day they chanced to speak one word; by night, dumb men were both, so far as concerned the slightest verbal interchange. At times, for longest hours, without a single hail, they stood far parted in the starlight; Ahab in his scuttle, the Parsee by the mainmast; but still fixedly gazing upon each other; as if in the Parsee Ahab saw his forethrown shadow, in Ahab the Parsee his abandoned substance.<br /><br />And yet, somehow, did Ahab—in his own proper self, as daily, hourly, and every instant, commandingly revealed to his subordinates,—Ahab seemed an independent lord; the Parsee but his slave. Still again both seemed yoked together, and an unseen tyrant driving them; the lean shade siding the solid rib. For be this Parsee what he may, all rib and keel was solid Ahab.<br />At the first faintest glimmering of the dawn, his iron voice was heard from aft,—"Man the mast-heads!"—and all through the day, till after sunset and after twilight, the same voice every hour, at the striking of the helmsman's bell, was heard—"What d'ye see?—sharp! sharp!"<br />But when three or four days had slided by, after meeting the children-seeking Rachel; and no spout had yet been seen; the monomaniac old man seemed distrustful of his crew's fidelity; at least, of nearly all except the Pagan harpooneers; he seemed to doubt, even, whether Stubb and Flask might not willingly overlook the sight he sought. But if these suspicions were really his, he sagaciously refrained from verbally expressing them, however his actions might seem to hint them.

City Breaks – Ride to Amsterdam

Nor, at any time, by night or day could the mariners now step upon the deck, unless Ahab was before them; either standing in his pivot-hole,...

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Gluten-free Delights for Everyone

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdvYdqQn5GWQ8LwkCOum3qSH6GzLK4t5M7Gi4BpFB-sUynWhYIAqusmVOrTmd5GnStd32OTcbWVwpeZqPECHo3QBdw4XQly0R88SfYci-fOg10DAvMm5tiEuwqBfwT4lyFjZ76L8FCfE_/s1600/strawberry-cakes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdvYdqQn5GWQ8LwkCOum3qSH6GzLK4t5M7Gi4BpFB-sUynWhYIAqusmVOrTmd5GnStd32OTcbWVwpeZqPECHo3QBdw4XQly0R88SfYci-fOg10DAvMm5tiEuwqBfwT4lyFjZ76L8FCfE_/s1600/strawberry-cakes.jpg" /></a></div>Look now at Stubb; a man who from his humorous, deliberate coolness and equanimity in the direst emergencies, was specially qualified to excel in pitchpoling. Look at him; he stands upright in the tossed bow of the flying boat; wrapt in fleecy foam, the towing whale is forty feet ahead. Handling the long lance lightly, glancing twice or thrice along its length to see if it be exactly straight, Stubb whistlingly gathers up the coil of the warp in one hand, so as to secure its free end in his grasp, leaving the rest unobstructed. Then holding the lance full before his waistband's middle, he levels it at the whale; when, covering him with it, he steadily depresses the butt-end in his hand, thereby elevating the point till the weapon stands fairly balanced upon his palm, fifteen feet in the air. He minds you somewhat of a juggler, balancing a long staff on his chin. Next moment with a rapid, nameless impulse, in a superb lofty arch the bright steel spans the foaming distance, and quivers in the life spot of the whale. Instead of sparkling water, he now spouts red blood.<br /><br />"That drove the spigot out of him!" cried Stubb. "'Tis July's immortal Fourth; all fountains must run wine today! Would now, it were old Orleans whiskey, or old Ohio, or unspeakable old Monongahela! Then, Tashtego, lad, I'd have ye hold a canakin to the jet, and we'd drink round it! Yea, verily, hearts alive, we'd brew choice punch in the spread of his spout-hole there, and from that live punch-bowl quaff the living stuff."<br /><br />Again and again to such gamesome talk, the dexterous dart is repeated, the spear returning to its master like a greyhound held in skilful leash. The agonized whale goes into his flurry; the tow-line is slackened, and the pitchpoler dropping astern, folds his hands, and mutely watches the monster die.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIIoiKigqe-1tVdoHCWTOWC67MpTEoG_WgN80AicJn1FmJQipUvsetKZP1uf3rQLbiN0Sfu-F2vvBCrb5zf0-gRQXKQh9bjTuv6g5zILqOXFjsyY9YUX0Y4-eLUioGtSn3NuTD_xq9tdey/s1600/5753259323_94d5813677_o-1078x516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIIoiKigqe-1tVdoHCWTOWC67MpTEoG_WgN80AicJn1FmJQipUvsetKZP1uf3rQLbiN0Sfu-F2vvBCrb5zf0-gRQXKQh9bjTuv6g5zILqOXFjsyY9YUX0Y4-eLUioGtSn3NuTD_xq9tdey/s1600/5753259323_94d5813677_o-1078x516.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>That for six thousand years—and no one knows how many millions of ages before—the great whales should have been spouting all over the sea, and sprinkling and mistifying the gardens of the deep, as with so many sprinkling or mistifying pots; and that for some centuries back, thousands of hunters should have been close by the fountain of the whale, watching these sprinklings and spoutings—that all this should be, and yet, that down to this blessed minute (fifteen and a quarter minutes past one o'clock P.M. of this sixteenth day of December, A.D. 1851), it should still remain a problem, whether these spoutings are, after all, really water, or nothing but vapour—this is surely a noteworthy thing.<br /><br />Let us, then, look at this matter, along with some interesting items contingent. Every one knows that by the peculiar cunning of their gills, the finny tribes in general breathe the air which at all times is combined with the element in which they swim; hence, a herring or a cod might live a century, and never once raise its head above the surface. But owing to his marked internal structure which gives him regular lungs, like a human being's, the whale can only live by inhaling the disengaged air in the open atmosphere. Wherefore the necessity for his periodical visits to the upper world. But he cannot in any degree breathe through his mouth, for, in his ordinary attitude, the Sperm Whale's mouth is buried at least eight feet beneath the surface; and what is still more, his windpipe has no connexion with his mouth. No, he breathes through his spiracle alone; and this is on the top of his head.<br /><br />If I say, that in any creature breathing is only a function indispensable to vitality, inasmuch as it withdraws from the air a certain element, which being subsequently brought into contact with the blood imparts to the blood its vivifying principle, I do not think I shall err; though I may possibly use some superfluous scientific words. Assume it, and it follows that if all the blood in a man could be aerated with one breath, he might then seal up his nostrils and not fetch another for a considerable time. That is to say, he would then live without breathing. Anomalous as it may seem, this is precisely the case with the whale, who systematically lives, by intervals, his full hour and more (when at the bottom) without drawing a single breath, or so much as in any way inhaling a particle of air; for, remember, he has no gills. How is this? Between his ribs and on each side of his spine he is supplied with a remarkable involved Cretan labyrinth of vermicelli-like vessels, which vessels, when he quits the surface, are completely distended with oxygenated blood. So that for an hour or more, a thousand fathoms in the sea, he carries a surplus stock of vitality in him, just as the camel crossing the waterless desert carries a surplus supply of drink for future use in its four supplementary stomachs. The anatomical fact of this labyrinth is indisputable; and that the supposition founded upon it is reasonable and true, seems the more cogent to me, when I consider the otherwise inexplicable obstinacy of that leviathan in HAVING HIS SPOUTINGS OUT, as the fishermen phrase it. This is what I mean. If unmolested, upon rising to the surface, the Sperm Whale will continue there for a period of time exactly uniform with all his other unmolested risings. Say he stays eleven minutes, and jets seventy times, that is, respires seventy breaths; then whenever he rises again, he will be sure to have his seventy breaths over again, to a minute. Now, if after he fetches a few breaths you alarm him, so that he sounds, he will be always dodging up again to make good his regular allowance of air. And not till those seventy breaths are told, will he finally go down to stay out his full term below. Remark, however, that in different individuals these rates are different; but in any one they are alike. Now, why should the whale thus insist upon having his spoutings out, unless it be to replenish his reservoir of air, ere descending for good? How obvious is it, too, that this necessity for the whale's rising exposes him to all the fatal hazards of the chase. For not by hook or by net could this vast leviathan be caught, when sailing a thousand fathoms beneath the sunlight. Not so much thy skill, then, O hunter, as the great necessities that strike the victory to thee!

Gluten-free Delights for Everyone

Look now at Stubb; a man who from his humorous, deliberate coolness and equanimity in the direst emergencies, was specially qualified to exc...

Read more »