The ship is called the ‘Faina’ and has a crew of 21 sailors from Russia, Ukraine and Latvia.

When the ship was nearing the Kenyan port of Mombasa, about 320 km from land, it was surrounded by three speed boats with armed Somali pirates on board.

The Somali coast is infested with pirates, with estimates suggesting that there are up to 1 000 pirates operating in the region. Pirates have seized some 25 vessels this year and attacked at least another 25, with 14 vessels still being held by pirates.

In my opinion it is high time, indeed beyond time, to crush the pirates of Somalia. According to reports there are now US and Russian warships patrolling the region. But more needs to be done, with a relentless campaign needed to remove the pirate problem.

Currently vessels are being held for ransoms that on most occasions are being paid. By paying the pirates, the pirate problem is only being encouraged. The pirates must be stopped – not only off Somalia, but in all areas in which they operate, including Nigeria, Aden, Indonesia, etc. Perhaps a force under the direction of the UN Security Council is what is required.

For this third version, now called "Boundless" Bungie took out the two main entrance shield doors along with the ice tunnels' and added the Battle Rifle opposite to the Convenant Carbine for the spawning points. I have found that this gives more power to the Ghost vehicle and makes it easier to ambush those who would hide in the two buildings. This also decreases the power of the mauler since one can't camp at the shield door entrances as much, which is unfortunate because that is one of my favorite weapons. However, the changes increases the range of the grenades, another added frustrating element. Nothing pisses me off more than dying from a random grenade chucked from the far end of another room.

Boundless definitely forces team games to work together or fail apart. The several Team Slayer games I have played of the updated map seem to have a huge gap between the winner's score and the loser's, and I ended up on both sides. Also, Boundless has become more of a long range map dueling between convenant carbines, battle rifles, needlers, convenant sniper, and those goddamn random grenades.

In my opinion, Snowbound was never really a balanced map and Boundless hasn't changed much of that. Ephitaph, Narrows, Construct, and Guardian are more balanced maps, which enable players to combat short, middle, or long ranges in a variety of combination with a better success rate.

Copywrite ownership is by Netflow Developments 2008

Before that, I killed a boy. I killed a boy who was dressed in a white, black, and gray urban camouflage uniform and bearing the red angular triangle and scorpion motif of the enemy. He was about twelve years old, shorter than most other boys, wearing a Kevlar helmet that was too big for his head, his blond hair jutting out the sides. His pale hands were fumbling with an Russian AK-47 rifle loaded with only one magazine, he was carrying at least two or three grenades but he wasn't wearing a flak jacket. Probably because all that weight would have slowed him down and made him useless to those who conscripted him. Just days ago, he had been a civilian, but like the days of World War II's Hitler Youth, the enemy had grown so desperate to stop our advance that they were deploying child soldiers against us. Not exactly combat-effective weapons, but psychologically-killing and morale-shaking enough as it was. Though he was running towards me, I could tell he was shivering, gripped by the madness around him, the stench of death, the mind-numbing advance of tanks against men, the burning funeral pyres of destroyed vehicles, but in all, he was forced to go forward by those who pried him out of his mother's arms.

The problem was, I didn't hesitate. I leveled my M-16A2 at him, gripped the heat guards with my gloved hands, locked the boy's chest into the crosshairs of my ACOG Scope and fired one round. I fired upon him as I would fire upon any other enemy soldier, and felt nothing. The bullet tore through his body in an instant, blasting blood out the other side and silhouetting his body in the red spray. He fell to the ground with a terrified look on his face, as though my firing on him was totally unexpected. Then I realized what I had done: I killed a boy, I shot a child, and now his blood was flowing onto the European landscape by my hands. Unconsciously, I ran to him. I sprinted at full speed, reaching him and kneeling over him. I blocked the sun from his body and saw a volcano of blood erupting upon his chest. He was wheezing, breathing through the bloodsoaked hole in his lungs, blood staining his open mouth and teeth, his helmet rolled off his head, his eyes turning glossy. I grabbed his hand and held it, cursing myself for what I had done. A bullet dug into the grass at my feet, and I released the boy's hand to readjust my rifle and fire on my attacker, striking him as I had struck the boy. When I looked back down at the boy, I discovered to my sorrow he was dead; probably died the moment I let go of his hand.

So, in effect, I killed thousands of people with a nuclear blast and a child with a bullet. But, the amazing thing is, I did it all without even joining the military, potentially betraying my country, grabbing a weapon, and going on a killing spree overseas. -I did it by typing it, by writing it, by creating a story of it.

Let no man question me when I say writers are gods, for in effect, you can defame my name, you can curse at me, you can cast me out, you can insult me in all manners, you can break my heart, but with the tools of writing before me, I can destroy your world without even touching you.

ამ ფერად პასტას ვასხამთ ფორმაში, სავარაუდო ვარიანტია კარდონის მილი და შუაში ვარჭობთ ფანქარს. დაახლოებით ერთ საათში, როცა ეს ყველაფერი გაცივდება, ფანქარს ვიღებთ, წარმოქმნილ ნახვრეტში ვდებთ ფიტილს, ბომბს ვახვევთ იზოლენტაში და ჭერში ვდებთ, მანამდე დამზადებული სხვა ბომბების გვერდით.

ეფექტი და ვიდეოტუტორიალი შეგიძლიათ იხილოთ აქ, რა შეუძლია მას. მე პირადად ფრიად აღვფრთოვანდი მისი ეფექტურობით, დავამზადებ უახლოეს მომავალში და შედეგებს გამოვაქვეყნებ.

Direct link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yuKN7dXIeR0

აქვე მეორე ვიდეოც, სადაც ძალიან მარტივად და ლამაზად არის ნაჩვენები როგორ უნდა დავამზადოთ ამ ბომბისთვის დეტონატორი (რგოლიანი :) ). დამატებითი მასალები - ერთი კოლოფი ასანთი, წვრილი რეზინის ზონარი და საწრუპავი. დანარჩენი - ძელო ტეხნიკი.

Direct link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JFtv-Wh2x3Y

მასალის სისწორეზე და ინსტრუქციების შესრულებისას მიღებულ დაზიანებაზე პასუხს არ ვაგებ.

Is this the same city I loved?  Was that the same plaza where we watched the fireworks?  Next to the same cathedral through which we walked?

Luke 13:1-9... did these people deserve to die in a random act of terrorism?

For those of you who do not know, President Calderon is from Morelia, Michoacan.  When he took office, one of his first acts was to blanket his home state and home city with police in order to resist drug cartels, gangs and organized crime.  Since then, random acts of violence, kidnappings, shootouts and even beheadings have escalated in the city of Morelia.

And right now, all I want to do is be there.  What would I have done if I was there last night?

My friends say that so many people are now afraid of going outside of their homes.  I am so very thankful that the people I know and care for in Morelia are safe (our host church's youth group attended the celebration together).  But I cannot shrug off my desire to be there.  What could I do to help?

If I was there alone, I would act one way... but what if my loved ones were right with me?  I have this sinking feeling that in the heat of the moment nothing would matter to me except those closest to me.  That I would be trying to rush them to safety instead of helping other people who might be hurt.  And I might be capable of helping others.  I'm an Eagle Scout, certified in first response.

How do you not succumb to fear yet at the same time not become desensitized?  Well, I guess both lack one thing:  Courage.  Confidence that God is in control.

What if we had been there now instead of three months ago?  How do ministry opportunities change in the atmosphere of fear?  How do you tell people that God loves and God protects?  We only live a short while, and time is running out.  We only have so many hours, a small grace period to be caught in His grace.

So let us pray.  If my people will humbly pray and seek my face and turn away from all their wicked ways, then I will hear them and move my hand:  Freely then will I forgive and I will heal their land. Roughly based on 2 Chronicles 7:14.  We need to seek Him and Him alone, turn from that which keeps us from Him.  And that is impossible on our own so we need to ask Him to help.  We need to be on our knees, humbled before the awesome might of the LORD, of our Savior.  I find it such beautiful foolishness that when we are humbled, God hears us, and breathes boldness into our bones.

Cover Morelia, Michoacan and all of Mexico in prayer today.

<IXOYE><

At least eight people have been killed in a grenade attack on a crowd celebrating Mexican independence in the city of Morelia...

Two explosions ripped through the crowd of around 30,000 people minutes after they listened to the local governor giving the traditional Grito, or cry of independence.

The authorities did not immediately identify who they thought was to blame, but many observers assumed the involvement of Mexico's drug cartels...deeply immersed in inter-gang wars for the control of trafficking routes, local markets and production.

They are also battling against a nationwide military-led offensive, aimed at reining them in, which began in Michoacan, the central state, of which Morelia is the capital, almost two years ago...

Nevertheless last night's attack on a crowd of families, many of them with small children, would be a major scaling up of the traffickers' challenge to the government. They have so far focused on attacking rivals or members of the security forces.

Thugs, gangsters this despicable, deserve to have the whole nation of Mexico turn their backs on them. Violence perpetrated upon civilians is the hallmark of cowards and criminals, the lowest common denominator of terrorist vermin.

The politicians and police on drug gang payrolls in Mexico deserve no more mercy than do the gangsters. That is - none at all.

C'est comme ça.

Quand Starck avait sorti sa gun lamp Kalashnikov, l'idée m'avait donc déjà bien plu, même si j'aurais aimé un rendu plus brut et autoritaire.

Dans AD, je suis récemment tombé sur ces sculptures "grenade", par Jaume Plensa.

Je dis oui. Tout simplement.

By Francis Allan L. Angelo

UNIDENTIFIED suspects bombed the car of Chief Insp. Musa Amiyong, Iloilo City Police Office intelligence section (S2) chief, around 4 am Sunday.

According to the Explosive and Ordnance Division, a F26-A fragmentation grenade was used to blow up Amiyong Mistubishi Lancer parked along road at Brgy. Salvacion-West Habog-Habog, Molo district.

Investigation by the Scene of the Crime Operatives said the grenade was thrown at the driver’s seat of the car and damaged the seat, windshield and steering wheel.

Some of the shrapnel damaged several houses around the blast scene.

Amiyong said the motive for the incident is his campaign against illegal drugs.

The intelligence chief said he already has an idea of the suspect but he refused to give any detail.

Amiyong was recently involved in the shooting to two alleged drug pushers in General Luna Street, Iloilo City.

But Michael “Federico” Dolar and Roy Barsote said Amiyong shot them while passing along General Luna Street for no apparent reason.

Eu não estava lá quando a Peligro no Milo inaugurou a casa. Eu acompanhava tudo à distância, em Londrina, informado por amigos como Ronaldo, Eugênio e Matias. Mas sempre que eu visitava São Paulo dava um jeito de dar um pulo no "Milo de quinta", forma corriqueira de se referir à festa. Foi lá que em julho, um mês antes de me mudar pra SP, eu assisti pela primeira vez um show da Lulina.

A questão que faz com que o fim da Peligro no Milo seja o "fim de uma era" é o senso de comunidade que se formou em torno da festa. Vinda das anárquicas noites na Generics (que, reza a lenda, teve uma festa de despedida de rachar o assoalho literalmente), a Peligro no Milo girava em torno de Gui Barrella (dono do selo/distro que batiza a festa) e Dago Donato, metade do Centro Cultural Batidão que ficou sozinho quando Eduardo Ramos começou a rodar o mundo no cargo de produtor/ empresário de bandas indies (mas que nunca deixou de voltar ao Milo quando no Brasil).

Esse espírito de comunidade é quase invisível, é intangível e espontâneo. Quando eu saí de Londrina, me senti um estrangeiro no meu próprio país. Se lá eu conseguia ir ao Valentino ou ao Potiguá sozinho e sem nenhum planejamento e ainda assim encontrar pessoas, fazer presepadas, me divetir e beber, em São Paulo eu só me sentia deslocado, quase inconveniente.

Mas o Milo (que a partir de agora aparece neste texto como sinônimo da festa da Peligro) tornou-se a minha segunda casa, antes mesmo de eu me mudar para Higienópolis, a duas quadras do bar. Foi no Milo que fiz e reencontrei grandes amigos, e lá, por muito tempo, era o único lugar para o qual eu iria sem nenhuma companhia.

Muitas vezes eu não estive nos melhores momentos do Milo, muito por não morar aqui antes de 2006. Eu não vi a Kátia (que eu conheci numa reunião pré-Milo na casa do Ronaldo e da Gê) discotecar o samba-enredo da Viradouro de 96. Eu não estava lá quando o Palugan gravou a apresentação do CSS. Eu não estava lá no show do Moving Stairs, banda que tinha dois terços da Folk This Town. Eu não vi o Diplo discotecar lá sob o pseudônimo de Wesley Pentz (na verdade o nome "civil"dele).

Mas eu vi muita coisa boa no Milo. Vi o Grenade pela primeira vez fora de Londrina, numa festa lotada. Vi o James Orr Complex, mal falando português, tocando para uma platéia atônita e plantando na minha cabeça a semente da Folk This Town. Vi o Macaco Bong num dos shows mais intensos EVER, tocando no melhor palco para artistas pedreiros - o chão. Eu enfrentei fila e VI o show da Mallu Magalhães, que a maioria só ouviu. Vi o Elma tocando Portishead, Telepatas tocando Wilco, Lulina tocando Velvet. Vi o Ronex e seu Royale e ajudei o Palugan e a Susan na "iluminação" - e ainda carreguei o Ronex no colo no fim do show. Discotequei duas vezes, uma delas no meu aniversário. Ouvi o Dago discotecar "Tiny Dancer", vi ele fazer um set indie/soul/rap de não deixar ninguém ir embora, passei horas na "cabine do DJ" só sacando o som que o Barba ia colocar. Ouvi o Eugênio e o Breno num duelo grunge. Fechei o bar, e também saí cedo demais. Perdi banda para ficar conversando no quintal e já dancei até as pernas ficarem doendo no dia seguinte. Tive uma revelação espiritual patrocinada pelo Massari. Vi o Plato Dvorak e vi o Walverdes tocando para quase ninguém. Aliás, eu estava lá no PIOR dia do Milo, apresentação de um tal de Bernhard Ghal. Não perguntem muito, mas foi horrível mesmo.

Essa lista não é só minha - todos que consideravam-se parte da comunidade Peligro devem ter a sua. E cada uma dessas listas é a verdadeira história do Milo, pelo menos o Milo que me interessava de verdade.

E claro que a festa não morre, nem morre o bar. O Milo vai achar algo para as suas quintas, e a Peligro vai criar sua própria casa, a Neu ("novo" em alemão e nome de uma das bands mais influentes do krautrock).

E vai ser massa, porque o que vai prevalecer, muito além da geografia, é esse senso de comunidade - uma das coisas mais importantes da e para a boa música. É só pensar na Rough Trade do começo, é só pensar no Our Band Could Be Your Life. E o melhor e mais importante dessa turma é que a comunidade é receptiva, e recebe o novo, seja um indivíduo ou um novo gênero musical, de peito e braços abertos.

Por isso que eu não estou triste. Termina uma fase na vida de muita gente, uma nova fase se delineia no horizonte. Quando eu colocar minha camiseta do Sonic Youth, minha camisa de flanela xadrez e o meu all-star de flames, quando eu subir a Angélica e chegar lá, cumprimentar o segurança, ir comprar minha Skol de meio litro, eu não estarei triste. Eu vou estar feliz, celebrando ao lado dos meus amigos. Porque é o fim do Milo como o conhecemos. E eu me sinto bem.

This week we're featuring Ben Bilocq's interview with Snowboard Canada magazine. Bilocq started out riding at local golf courses, but as his skills grew he moved on to the proving grounds of Stoneham resort. And proving himself is just what he has continued to do.

Hit the link to find out how Bilocq first got hooked up and why he loves shredding sketchy set ups.

Nitro, Electric, Grenade, L1, Insight, DLX

Just wanted to let you know that if you want to learn how to unclog a toilet, I did add the link to the video I saw on my Josephine the Plumber blog.  Thanks, Sara, for suggesting it.  Now I know how to add links to my blogs. 

I will add that yesterday I went to go get gas since my "You Are Running on Fumes" light came on in the van.  I had obviously picked the pump that someone had just topped off.  (I know it wasn't you, Lynn!)  I stood there, and stood there, and stood there.  Click..Click..Click.  I was getting so frustrated I thought I was going to scream, "IDIOTS!" at the top of my lungs.  But, I didn't.  I just took the nozzle out, placed it back into the island, and quit.  How irritating was it?  Well, my bill was $1.50.  No lie.  Let's see, that's not even half a gallon.  Oh, well.  It got me where I needed to go before I had to push the van off to the side of the road and call AAA.  Unbelievable!  PLEASE DO NOT TOP OFF!  You never know when someone with bipolar disorder will be the next customer, and you have just pulled the pin out of the hand grenade that we call our lives.  KA-BOOM!

Well, I'm going to go drink my morning coffee, sit and plan out my day, then I will be be back with an update on my latest therapy appointment.  SO HELPFUL!  (and, as many have mentioned, will save you money and time, since you may learn something without having to go in yourself!)

The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts offers nine, 45 minute class periods on a course titled, "What Makes A Hero?"  

One of the course objectives is to ascertain the qualities of the exceptional -- the Hero.

I believe the qualities of heroes have already been defined in 1 Corinthians 13:13:   "But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love."

Congressional Medal of Honor 

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty:

Private First Class Ross A. McGinnis distinguished himself by acts of gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty while serving as an M2 .50-caliber Machine Gunner, 1st Platoon, C Company, 1st Battalion, 26th Infantry Regiment, in connection with combat operations against an armed enemy in Adhamiyah, Northeast Baghdad, Iraq, on 4 December 2006.

That afternoon his platoon was conducting combat control operations in an effort to reduce and control sectarian violence in the area. While Private McGinnis was manning the M2 .50-caliber Machine Gun, a fragmentation grenade thrown by an insurgent fell through the gunner's hatch into the vehicle. Reacting quickly, he yelled "grenade," allowing all four members of his crew to prepare for the grenade's blast. Then, rather than leaping from the gunner's hatch to safety, Private McGinnis made the courageous decision to protect his crew. In a selfless act of bravery, in which he was mortally wounded, Private McGinnis covered the live grenade, pinning it between his body and the vehicle and absorbing most of the explosion.

Private McGinnis' gallant action directly saved four men from certain serious injury or death. Private First Class McGinnis' extraordinary heroism and selflessness at the cost of his own life, above and beyond the call of duty, are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself, his unit, and the United States Army.

Private First Class Ross A. McGinnis:  Faith, Hope and Love.

Bottomline, it's a new style for me. I hope whoever reads it likes it.

Background of the story: In the Philippines, as well as in other parts of the world (I'm certain), relatives of powerful political figures (especially their young, reckless children) often disregard their status and play around with things they shouldn't, mostly because of the fact that their confidence on their accumulated wealth and power can pay off every misdeed that they ever happen to commit. In short, most (not all) take advantage of their power. But what happens when Mayor Daddy can't or refuses to help you?

Anyway, The Other Jeremy is actually connected to another story I've posted on www.beyond-fantasy.tk. I've got a valuable, unsolicited comment that in order to make the stories more interesting (and make the readers come back for more, hopefully), the stories should be inter-related.

In this case, I decided to use one fictional community (I haven't even named it yet) based on a real one (i.e. my own) as the setting for most of my stories from now on. Also, I've made certain references within stories (Like in the case of The Other Jeremy and Salvage Point: Tommy, the basketball team captain). So summing it all up, the stories contain OTHER stories. Stories within stories. Or something to that effect.

But I'm not going to dwell on that aspect as a rule. I'm an inexperienced writer looking for more, well, experience.

Reality, Today: The news said that "Ilaga", a vigilante group that went dormant after fighting with Moro rebels in Mindanao back in the 70s was just ressurected. This came after MILF (that's Moro Islamic Liberation Front) rebels attacked and destroyed communities in one of the places in Mindanao. Apparently, they came back in retaliation. I wonder what the consequences of this "resurrection" will be. What will happen next?

Zamboanga, my city, has had its recent share of terrorism recently. A grenade that didn't explode inside a movie house. Now, sightings of armed men in a community only several blocks from where I live. Just a few seconds ago, a text message that a bomb exploded back in the city. I don't know if it did explode, I'll find out tomorrow. But WTF is wrong these past few days?

Good thing I'm staying at home most of the time. Wait...

...was that gunfire I heard?

Just kidding. I hope the fighting will end. Soon, goddammit!

ssshhhhhh... it's a secret.

Un établissement du Pas-de-Calais a été évacué après qu'une élève de 9 ans a rapporté une grenade pensant venir avec un objet insolite.

Quand l'instituteur a demandé aux élèves de rapporter un objet insolite, on imagine que la fillette de 9 ans a immédiatement pensé à ce trésor que son frère avait trouvé. Gros, dur, froid, à la forme un peu bizarre. Fière, se régalant sans doute d'avance des regards envieux de ses camarades, elle a mis l'engin dans son cartable. Et de se rendre à son école, l'établissement Buisson de Béthune, dans le Pas-de-Calais.
 
Quand elle a sorti son mystérieux objet, son enseignant n'a pas forcément réagi comme elle l'aurait espéré. "Il a immédiatement remis l'engin dans le sac plastique pour l'amener au milieu de la cour de récréation et avertir la directrice de l'école", raconte le sous-préfet de Béthune
 
L'école de 191 élèves a été évacuée tout de go, la police, les pompiers et les démineurs sont aussitôt intervenus, l'objet insolite rapporté par la petite fille de 9 ans, était une grenade de la Seconde Guerre mondiale. L'opération s'est terminée en fin de matinée. L'engin ne semblait plus dangereux. "Il était dégoupillé sans avoir explosé et le temps a dû faire le reste", a relaté le sous-préfet.