starting at that time oor Kornies
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starting at that time
Res yw dhyn gortos.langbot langbot
When every guest had been welcomed and was finally inside the gate, there were songs, dances, music, games, and, of course, food and drink. There were three official meals: lunch, tea, and dinner (or supper). But lunch and tea were marked chiefly by the fact that at those times all the guests were sitting down and eating together. At other times there were merely lots of people eating and drinking - continuously from elevenses until six-thirty, when the fireworks started.
Fatla genowgh hwi hedhyw?langbot langbot
VENTURING OUT. I didn’t get any more out of him for the rest of the time we were there either. The attempt at getting David to play cards had backfired badly. He withdrew from me and refused to interact – cards were definitely off his agenda. In fact, I woke one night to find him shredding the entire pack – card by card. I’m not sure how many days we stayed in the crypt. I didn’t specifically count and the difference between daylight and night-time inside the crypt was not always clear-cut. Let’s just say we were there a few days before I even considered leaving. After all, we were warm enough, safe from intruders (no- one ever came knocking) and, for the time being, there was ample food and water . But we couldn’t stay there forever, could we? Within 48 hours or so of our taking shelter in the crypt, the fighting seemed to have stopped. Gunfire had dwindled from merely sporadic to non-existent. There were no audible groans, screams or cries of panic. From this, I deduced that the zombies hereabouts were a spent force – if not altogether extinct. So, if I ventured out in the dead of night without David, I was now unlikely to be eaten – but would I be shot? That was the question. How many of the soldiers remained in place after the battle was done and how many had moved onto where they were now more needed. I would have to check it out – 4.00 am on a moonless night seemed like a good time to start. Before I left, I told David that I would be gone for a short time but that I would return very soon. He looked at me impassively. Did he understand what I had said? I asked him. He remained impassive. As I said, he had been quite withdrawn of late – since the abortive card game – and maybe he just didn’t care as much about me anymore. Who would know? I decided I needed to do my reconnaissance whether or not David understood – or cared.
Mr Smith yw dyskadorda.langbot langbot
“When I saw a US F4 Phantom drop napalm on thousands of my fellow students, burning them all to death in a most painful and horrific way, I knew that it was killing kids that would soon recover – hundreds of them. It was like Dresden. It was like the fire-bombing of Tokyo. Gentlemen, that’s a major war crime. That’s not a battle. That’s not war. That’s why they hanged Generals at Nuremburg!...” Time was indeed short. I could see the guards hurrying to the stage. I had to raise my voice to be heard above the other voices that were now being raised. I started screaming: “...I can’t tell you why your government sent you here. That’s political. But I can tell you that you’ve been sent to war on the basis of a lie! Does that sound familiar? Well, does it? Have you heard of the so-called ‘Gulf of Tonkin Incident’? How many of you have still got brothers risking their lives in ‘Nam because of it? ...” These were the last words I managed to get out before I, too, was hit with a cattle-prod – and screamed very heartily. The hall was in uproar. There was complete pandemonium – just as I’d hoped. The Captain approached my cage as I lay spasming in the floor and hit me with another powerful jolt of electricity from one of the other cattle prods. (Perfect for my plans – but painful all the same.) “Leave him alone, you bastard!” shouted one of the GI’s. “You’re killin’ him!” And, with that, he and several of his buddies rushed on stage to protect me. Cosmic! For an instant, I thought they might actually free me – though that had not been my immediate plan – but the guards drew their side-arms and aimed them squarely at the stage invaders. Sensibly, they retreated. The Captain dropped his prod, came close and looked me in the eye. There was deep hatred in his look. I had wilfully robbed him of his moment of glory. Good. Now to see what the GI’s would do with the (quite plausible) disinformation that I had provided them.
Res yw dhymm skrifa lyther. Eus genes paper?langbot langbot
THE ROWDEN WHITE GALLERY Perhaps the entry of the truck – and/or the resulting crashes and bangs – had been heard. And perhaps the person hearing this had decided “It’s now or never” – and had made a desperate dash for freedom. I will never be quite sure. In any event, as I trailed along behind David towards Union House, a scream split the air – the scream of a living person. David halted briefly to assess the sound – and sniff the air. Then came another scream and David was off at a gallop. The screams seemed to come from Union House and, naturally, that was the direction in which David was running. I tried to keep up with him but he already had a head-start on me. As we entered the building via the South entrance (the Western entrance did not exist at the time) the screams stopped abruptly – in mid-scream. David’s pace did not slacken – if anything, it quickened and I fell further behind. I saw him leaping up the stairs, taking three at a time – the basement was now ignored and a crowd of zombies was coming forth from that evil pit. David, however, was ahead of that pack and, for my own safety, I needed to keep in contact with him – a feat which I just barely managed. David’s bloodlust was definitely up and all thoughts of protecting me seemed to have disappeared. Fortunately for me, the zombies following David were likewise distracted – for the moment at least – and paid me little heed. By the time I reached the Rowden White Gallery cum library on the third floor of the building, it was all over. The person who had been screaming so desperately had been killed by the zombies. I don’t think David arrived in time to participate in the actual killing – though I can’t be sure – but he was certainly participating in what followed.
Ny allav koska.langbot langbot
David stepped towards me and gently lifted the cat from my grip. The cat instantly calmed down. The fucking thing started purring as he held it! Another of the zombies came forward and seemingly begged David to pass it over. “Gween”? Was this a word? Was this the cat’s name? Can’t say – I never did hear a zombie, any zombie, utter another syllable – at that time. I was having trouble getting my head around the situation: I was in a fetid den with a bunch of zombies – many of whom had, no doubt, recently slaughtered and eaten their fellow students – and now they were fussing over this rotten cat just like so many old women! The Catholic church almost exterminated the domestic cat in Europe during the Middle Ages – on the basis that it was the servant of the Devil or some such. What a load of superstitious nonsense, eh? Eh? Despite the coolness of our welcome, David seemed intent on spending the night among his fellows – and amid the rank, decaying filth that lay all about. “Nice little place you got here, Fellas,” I said. “I like the way you’ve decorated it.” No response. Zombies apparently have no sense of irony. But I knew I would be safe there – and nowhere else but where David was. So, I stayed. But I didn’t actually get any sleep. You might think I was nervous about one of my co-residents suddenly requiring a midnight snack. But no! I was now quite certain that David’s presence protected me absolutely from zombie attack. What kept me awake was that friggin’ tortoiseshell cat. It parked itself in the opposite corner of the room and kept me under constant observation. I could see its wide green eyes glowing in the dark. Whenever I chanced to close my own eyes, it was on the move, creeping ever closer to me. When I opened them again, it retreated. “This is ridiculous,” I thought. “It’s just a little pussy cat. You need some sleep, Pete.”
Hwi a yll dos.langbot langbot
Thorium is a weakly radioactive metallic chemical element with the symbol Th and atomic number 90. Thorium is silvery and tarnishes black when it is exposed to air, forming thorium dioxide; it is moderately soft and malleable and has a high melting point. Thorium is an electropositive actinide whose chemistry is dominated by the +4 oxidation state; it is quite reactive and can ignite in air when finely divided. All known thorium isotopes are unstable. The most stable isotope, 232Th, has a half-life of 14.05 billion years, or about the age of the universe; it decays very slowly via alpha decay, starting a decay chain named the thorium series that ends at stable 208Pb. On Earth, thorium and uranium are the only significantly radioactive elements that still occur naturally in large quantities as primordial elements.[a] Thorium is estimated to be over three times as abundant as uranium in the Earth's crust, and is chiefly refined from monazite sands as a by-product of extracting rare-earth metals. Thorium was discovered in 1828 by the Norwegian amateur mineralogist Morten Thrane Esmark and identified by the Swedish chemist Jöns Jacob Berzelius, who named it after Thor, the Norse god of thunder. Its first applications were developed in the late 19th century. Thorium's radioactivity was widely acknowledged during the first decades of the 20th century. In the second half of the century, thorium was replaced in many uses due to concerns about its radioactivity. Thorium is still being used as an alloying element in TIG welding electrodes but is slowly being replaced in the field with different compositions. It was also material in high-end optics and scientific instrumentation, used in some broadcast vacuum tubes, and as the light source in gas mantles, but these uses have become marginal. It has been suggested as a replacement for uranium as nuclear fuel in nuclear reactors, and several thorium reactors have been built. Thorium is also used in strengthening magnesium, coating tungsten wire in electrical equipment, controlling the grain size of tungsten in electric lamps, high-temperature crucibles, and glasses including camera and scientific instrument lenses. Other uses for thorium include heat-resistant ceramics, aircraft engines, and in light bulbs. Ocean science has utilised 231Pa/230Th isotope ratios to understand the ancient ocean.[5]
Yth eson ni owth assaya gweres.langbot langbot
AN OFFICIOUS MAJOR I arranged some of the other pieces of luggage that were in the van and propped myself up against the coffin. I could hear David’s continuous grumbling but was not particularly troubled. The baggage car was extremely noisy and we were sharing it with no-one else. “So, my dear brother, grumble away!” I thought – but didn’t say so. The train was typical of the time – some of this type are still running on Victoria’s country rail-lines. A diesel locomotive with a string of faded red passenger carriages but only one allocated to ‘First Class’ (bigger, comfier seats, a bit quieter overall). The train was slow, lumbering and the carriages swayed from side to side as they made their way along tracks that had (then) not been upgraded since the Great Depression of the 1930’s. Excellent ‘Susso’ work back then, redoing the train tracks – almost as good as working on the Great Ocean Road or the Ivanhoe Boulevard. But I digress! I’m showing my age now. Confabulation is such a curse – to everyone but the confabulator! Anyway, from my personal point of view, everything was going swimmingly – until we reached Kyneton station, about an hour out of the City. “Stow my luggage in that car, Private – and be snappy about it!” These were the first words I heard come from the Major. The door of the baggage car slid open and a timorous private entered, weighed down by numerous pieces of luggage – obviously not his own. He did his best to place them inside the carriage but managed to drop one case, hitherto held under his arm. It fell to the floor with a loud thud. “You imbecile! I’ll have you court-martialled ...” And so on, in that vein, for a full two minutes – the exact time of the scheduled stop at the station. The private stood to attention and absorbed the vile invective that came from his superior officer: terrified and silent. “Get off, you fool!” he yelled at the private – who did so immediately and without question, as the train started to move. However, it was too late for the Major himself to alight from the baggage car and take his place among the other passengers (presumably, in the first-class section of the train.)
Ow gi yw henna.langbot langbot
By the nineteenth century, Cornish had died as a spoken community language, although there are records of the language being spoken particularly at sea by Newlyn fishermen. During this century there was a resurgence of interest in Celtic culture which meant that Cornish attracted some academic attention. The plays of the middle Cornish period were re-visited, and academics such as Edwin Norris and Whitley Stokes published them with commentaries and translations. It was not until early in the twentieth century, however, that an attempt was made to revive the language. In 1904 Henry Jenner, one of a number of individuals interested in and working on Cornish at the time, published his Handbook of the Cornish Language, based on the texts available to him at the British Museum. This kick-started the revival of Cornish as a living, spoken language, and Jenner's work was picked up and continued by, among others, Robert Morton Nance, who researched and gathered together more fragments of the language, finally developing a regularised spelling system based on the medieval texts, known as Unified Cornish. The revival continued to grow throughout the early twentieth century, with evening classes, events and examinations being established as well as some teaching in schools outside the formal curriculum. Books and magazines were published for users of the language. The 1980s and early 1990s saw a time of review and reconsideration about the theory of reviving a language, plus additional research on the texts. This resulted in the proposal of different approaches which moved the language on from the initial research that Jenner and Morton Nance had carried out in the early twentieth century. In the early 1980s Richard Gendall began exploring the Cornish of the Late period. He worked from the premise that a language revival should be based upon the last available evidence from when the language was last spoken, and the form of Cornish now known as Modern Cornish grew out of this work. In the late 1980s, Dr Ken George carried out a great deal of research into the phonology of the language, including how this could be better linked to the orthography by a rationalised spelling system, and the result of this was the beginning of Common Cornish. Then in 1995 Celtic scholar, Professor Nicholas Williams, proposed an amended version of Unified Cornish, called Unified Cornish Revised, which takes the texts of the sixteenth century as its main source.
Ev a brenas lyver a-dro dhe Sowsnek yn lyverji.langbot langbot
9 sinne gevind in 6 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.