Here's the way I voted (with four out of the top five):
Lindsay Davenport (US) v Svetlana Kuznetsova (Rus)Four Russians in the last eight!
Amelie Mauresmo (Fr) v Anastasia Myskina (Rus)
Mary Pierce (Fra) v Venus Williams (US)
Nadia Petrova (Rus) v Maria Sharapova (Rus)
Before the US sends humans to Mars, it should rule out the possibility of dangerous life forms on the planet, a NASA advisory panel has reported. And it says the only reliable way to do that is with a robotic sample-return mission - which could take more than a decade to implement.
Four members of a freelance camera crew were arrested at the War of the Worlds premiere in London after its star Tom Cruise was squirted with water.So, Channel 4 is now paying people to go around assaulting celebrities in the street because they think it makes good television!? I don't know what it is that leads some people to think that if they have a camera and a microphone they are somehow above the law. In any case, the individuals involved have been arrested and bailed, and will face police questioning today.
The 42-year-old actor's face and jacket were drenched with water squirted from what appeared to be a microphone.
The crew was working for Channel 4. It said it hoped Cruise would see the funny side of the stunt which was for a new comedy show.
The water squirting was not intended to cause offence and was very much in a spirit of fun. We hope Tom Cruise will be able to see the joke in the spirit with which it was intended.Sounds like wishful thinking to me. Village Voice said it a while ago: "Tom Cruise sues the way Robert Downey Jr. violates his parole."
After "several months of rudimentary repetition", the monkeys learned that one-inch silver disks with a central hole "were valuable as a means of exchange for a treat and would be similarly valuable the next day". Chen and Santos were then able to experiment with price shocks, wealth shocks, gambling games and so on. And along the way, the monkeys began on their own to exchange money for sex.I thought patriarchal capitalism was supposed to be responsible for the commodification of sex. But if monkeys are doing it...
My fear is that the dynamics of the G8 summit involve too much of the naive leading the naive. Too much of the Make Poverty History campaign reeks of middle-class Europeans trying to feel good about themselves by prescribing very radical but practically dubious solutions to Africa's problems. Unusually, though, a similar criticism can be levelled against our normally pragmatic and careful government too. Geldof and Brown are in the same game. Both are brilliant at playing on liberal guilt. Neither of them is nearly as good at helping us to understand Africa.
Perhaps the US deserves much gratitude for what it's done to preserve European freedom. In practice it doesn't get it. Its influence and culture are resented...That's certainly true, though (as RP points out) there's a word for people who criticize American materialism while avidly consuming its products.
A shame there's so little left of the Wall. But it's hard to describe the feeling you get when you're crossing a road and suddenly realize that the thin, two-brick line running across the tarmac represents the point where East and West once met. Somehow that's more meaningful than any grand memorial.
Make a list of the things you want to do before you die. Be as open to your heart as you possibly can. Now, throw that ridiculous piece of trash away and get your ass to work. The ball is over, Cinderella.And,
If you start lowering your expectations and compromising your principles now, you won't have to play catch-up when mounting debt and endless tedium crush what was once your soul.Recent graduates should read it all.
This has been a novel about some people who were punished entirely too much for what they did. They wanted to have a good time, but they were like children playing in the street; they could see one after another of them being killed -- run over, maimed, destroyed -- but they continued to play anyhow. We really all were very happy for a while, sitting around not toiling but just bullshitting and playing, but it was for such a terrible brief time, and then the punishment was beyond belief: even when we could see it, we could not believe it. For example, while I was writing this I learned that the person on whom the character Jerry Fabin is based killed himself. My friend on whom I based the character Ernie Luckman died before I began the novel. For a while I myself was one of these children playing in the street; I was, like the rest of them, trying to play instead of being grown up, and I was punished. I am on the list below, which is a list of those to whom this novel is dedicated, and what became of each.
Drug misuse is not a disease, it is a decision, like the decision to step out in front of a moving car. You would call that not a disease but an error in judgment. When a bunch of people begin to do it, it is a social error, a life-style. In this particular life-style the motto is "Be happy now because tomorrow you are dying," but the dying begins almost at once, and the happiness is a memory. It is, then, only a speeding up, an intensifying, of the ordinary human existence. It is not different from your life-style, it is only faster. It all takes place in days or weeks or months instead of years. "Take the cash and let the credit go," as Villon said in 1460. But that is a mistake if the cash is a penny and the credit a whole lifetime.
There is no moral in this novel; it is not bourgeois; it does not say they were wrong to play when they should have toiled; it just tells what the consequences were. In Greek drama they were beginning, as a society, to discover science, which means causal law. Here in this novel there is Nemesis: not fate, because anyone of us could have chosen to stop playing in the street, but, as I narrate from the deepest part of my life and heart, a dreadful Nemesis for those who kept on playing. I myself, I am not a character in this novel; I am the novel. So, though, was our entire nation at this time. This novel is about more people than I knew personally. Some we all read about in the newspapers. It was, this sitting around with our buddies and bullshitting while making tape recordings, the bad decision of the decade, the sixties, both in and out of the establishment. And nature cracked down on us. We were forced to stop by things dreadful.
If there was any "sin," it was that these people wanted to keep on having a good time forever, and were punished for that, but, as I say, I feel that, if so, the punishment was far too great, and I prefer to think of it only in a Greek or morally neutral way, as mere science, as deterministic impartial cause-and-effect. I loved them all. Here is the list, to whom I dedicate my love:
To Gaylene deceased
To Ray deceased
To Francy permanent psychosis
To Kathy permanent brain damage
To Jim deceased
To Val massive permanent brain damage
To Nancy permanent psychosis
To Joanne permanent brain damage
To Maren deceased
To Nick deceased
To Terry deceased
To Dennis deceased
To Phil permanent pancreatic damage
To Sue permanent vascular damage
To Jerri permanent psychosis and vascular
...and so forth.
In Memoriam. These were comrades whom I had; there are no better. They remain in my mind, and the enemy will never be forgiven. The "enemy" was their mistake in playing. Let them all play again, in some other way, and let them be happy.