bers,” were among those who were killed in the attack.
The police claimed that Kamah, an alleged member of the Abu Sayyaf’s Ajan
g-Ajang sub-group, was seen near the church moments before the explosions.
Albayalde said the attack was plotted as early as between Jan. 8. and Jan. 21. “An identified Asian couple believed to be ho
led in Lampinigan island for a few days sailed to Jolo on Jan. 24 by pump boat to meet up with other suspects.”
From fragments and components recovered at the scene, Albayalde said forensic technic
ians concluded that the bombs were made by pipes that contained “possible ammonium nitrate-fuel
il compound as primary explosive charge and possibly boosted by secondary high explosives.”
The IEDs are typical bombs used by the Abu Sayyaf militants, Albayalde said. “The signature
of the Abu Sayyaf group, therefore, is patently present in the IED used in this latest terror attack in Jolo.”
Albayalde added that the investigation of the blasts “is far from over as there are evidences that n
eed to be carefully examined to test its consistency with other facts and circumstances surrounding the incident.”
The king wore lambswool breeches and a quilted doublet, yet somehow he looked as stiff and uncomfortable as if he had been clad in plate and mail. His skin was
pale leather, his beard cropped so short that it might have been painted on. A fringe about his temples was all that remained of his black hair. In his hand
was a parchment with a broken seal of dark green wax.
Jon took a knee. The king frowned at him, and rattled the parchment angrily. “Rise. Tell me, who is Lyanna Mormont?”
“One of Lady Maege’s daughters, Sire. The youngest. She was named for my lord father’s sister.”
“To curry your lord father’s favor, I don’t doubt. I know how that game is played. How old is this wretched girl child?”
Jon had to think a moment. “Ten. Or near enough to make no matter. Might I know how she has offended Your Grace?”
Stannis read from the letter. “Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is STARK. A girl of ten, you
say, and she presumes to scold her lawful king.” His close-cropped beard lay like a shadow over his hollow cheeks. “See that you keep these tidings to yourself, Lord
Snow. Karhold is with me, that is all the men need know. I will not have your brothers trading tales of how this child spat on me.”
“I’m going to show you how dangerous tigers are,” hecontinued. “I want you to remember this lesson for the rest ofyour lives.”He turned to Babu and nodded.
Babu left. Mahisha’s eyesfollowed him and did not move from the door he disappearedthrough. He returned a few
seconds later carrying a goat withits legs tied. Mother gripped me from behind. Mahisha’s snarlturned into a growl deep in the throat.
Babu unlocked, opened, entered, closed and locked a cagenext to the tiger’s cage. Bars and a trapdoor separated thetwo.
Immediately Mahisha was up against the dividing bars,pawing them. To his growling he now added explosive,
arrestedwoofs. Babu placed the goat on the floor; its flanks wereheaving violently, its tongue hung from its mouth, and its eyeswere
He untied its
legs. The goat
got to its feet.
The news of the pyramid explosion in Egypt has been buzzing in the past two days.
Many friends who want to travel to Egypt in the New Year are paying attention to
what’s going on. In fact, this mainly refers to the explosion near the Egyptian Pyramid at 6 p.m. yesterday, December 28.
A bus loaded with 14 people from Vietnam was driving along a section of the road near
the Giza Pyramid on the outskirts of Cairo when it was hit by a bomb, which resulted in three deaths and many injuries, including the driver of the bus.
So far no one or organization has claimed responsibility for the explosion, and the Egyptian police have made no substantial progress in their investigation. They only
know that the bomb placed behind a broken wall on the street is a homemade
improvised explosion. Although it is simple and indigenous, its power is not small. Half of the Vietnamese tour group’s cars are bombed.
Then, surprisingly, when Egyptian Prime Minister Madbury visited the victims and
contacted the Vietnamese Embassy, he said the following words: “Sometimes attacks like this happen, and it may happen again in the future. No country in the world can say 100 percent safe.”
For Prime Minister Madbury’s remarks, the Internet has been discussed by a large number of netizens, and even some netizens said that this is Egypt’s shirking
responsibility, so that many people want to travel to Egypt are disappointed. Some people also think that Prime Minister Madbury is telling the truth. No problem. So what do you think?
But let me remind you that tourists
who want to travel to Egypt
should pay attention to
safety and think carefully.
By fourth grade Wozniak became, as he put it, one of the “electronics kids.” He had
an easier time making eye contact with a transistor than with a girl, and he developed the
chunky and stooped look of a guy who spends most of his time hunched over circuit boards.
At the same age when Jobs was puzzling over a carbon microphone that his dad couldn’t explain,
Wozniak was using transistors to build an intercom system featuring amplifiers, relays, lights,
and buzzers that connected the kids’ bedrooms of six houses in the neighborhood. And at an age when
“Do they mistrust me？” said Cao Cao.
“they are not worthy of your attention. They are a poor lot.”
“What of this departure of Li Jue and Guo Si？”
“Tigers without claws, birds without wings——they will not escape you very long. They are not worth thinking about.”
Cao Cao saw that he and his guest had much in common, so he began to talk of affairs of state.
Said Dong Zhao, “You, Illustrious Sir, with your noble army have swept away rebellion and have become the mainstay of the Throne, an achievement worthy of the ancient Five Protectors. But the officials will look at it in very different ways and not all favorably to you. I think you would not be wise to remain here, and I advise a change of capital to Xuchang. However, it must be remembered that the restoration of the capital has been published far and wide and the attention of all the people is concentrated on Luoyang, hoping for a period of rest and tranquillity. Another move will displease many. However, the performance of extraordinary deed may mean the acquisition of extraordinary merit. It is for you to decide.”
“Exactly my own inclination！” said Cao Cao, seizing his guest’s hand. “But are there not dangers？ Yang Feng at Daliang and the court officials！”
“That is easily managed. Write to Yang Feng and set his mind at rest. then say to the high officials plainly that there is no food in the capital here, and so you are going to another place where there is, and where there is no danger of scarcity. When they hear it, they will approve.”
Cao Cao had now decided； and as his guest took leave, Cao Cao seized his hands once more, saying, “I shall need your advice in future affairs.”
Jobs was building Heathkits, Wozniak was assembling a transmitter and receiver from Hallicrafters,
the most sophisticated radios available.
Woz spent a lot of time at home reading his father’s electronics journals, and he became enthralled
by stories about new computers, such as the powerful ENIAC. Because Boolean algebra came naturally
to him, he marveled at how simple, rather than complex, the computers were. In eighth grade he built
a calculator that included one hundred transistors, two hundred diodes, and two hundred resistors on ten
circuit boards. It won top prize in a local contest run by the Air Force, even though the competitors
included students through twelfth grade.
Woz became more of a loner when the boys his age began going out with girls and partying,
endeavors that he found far more complex than designing circuits. “Where before I was popular
and riding bikes and everything, suddenly I was socially shut out,” he recalled. “It seemed
like nobody spoke to me for the longest time.” He found an outlet by playing juvenile pranks.
In twelfth grade he built an electronic metronome—one of those tick-tick-tick devices that keep
time in music class—and realized it sounded like a bomb. So he took the labels off some big batteries,
taped them together, and put it in a school locker; he rigged it to start ticking faster when the locker
opened. Later that day he got called to the principal’s office. He thought it was because he had won, yet again,
the school’s top math prize. Instead he was confronted by the police. The principal had been summoned when the device was
found, bravely ran onto the football field clutching it to his chest, and pulled the wires off. Woz tried and
failed to suppress his laughter. He actually got sent to the juvenile detention center, where he spent the
night. It was a memorable experience. He taught the other prisoners how to disconnect the wires leading to
the ceiling fans and
connect them to the bars
so people got shocked
when touching them.
I see a sail in the far sky
MEMORIES IN EARLY WINTER
South go the wildgesse, for leaves are now falling,
And the water is cold with a wind from the north.
I remember my home; but the Xiang River’s curves
Are walled by the clouds of this southern country.
I go forward. I weep till my tears are spent.
I see a sail in the far sky.
Where is the ferry? Will somebody tell me?
It’s growing rough. It’s growing dark.
CLIMBING IN AUTUMN FOR A VIEW FROM THE TEMPLE
ON THE TERRACE OF GENERAL WU
So autumn breaks my homesick heart….
Few pilgrims venture climbing to a temple so wild,
Up from the lake, in the mountain clouds.
…Sunset clings in the old defences,
A stone gong shivers through the empty woods.
…Of the Southern Dynasty, what remains?
Nothing but the great River.
A FAREWELL TO GOVERNOR LI
ON HIS WAY HOME TO HANYANG
Sad wanderer, once you conquered the South,
Commanding a hundred thousand men;
Today, dismissed and dispossessed,
In your old age you remember glory.
Once, when you stood, three borders were still;
Your dagger was the scale of life.
Now, watching the great rivers, the Jiang and the Han,
On their ways in the evening, where do you go?
ON SEEING WANG LEAVE FOR THE SOUTH
Toward a mist upon the water
Still I wave my hand and sob,
For the flying bird is lost in space
Beyond a desolate green mountain….
But now the long river, the far lone sail,
five lakes, gleam like spring in the sunset;
And down an island white with duckweed
Comes the quiet of communion.
WHILE VISITING ON THE SOUTH STREAM
THE TAOIST PRIEST CHANG
Walking along a little path,
I find a footprint on the moss,
A while cloud low on the quiet lake,
Grasses that sweeten an idle door,
A pine grown greener with the rain,
A brook that comes from a mountain source —
And, mingling with Truth among the flowers,
I have forgotten what to say.