[27964] in linux-announce channel archive
Measure Any item with pinpoint accuracy
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Lyle Daniels)
Fri Aug 6 13:26:44 2021
Date: Fri, 6 Aug 2021 13:18:23 -0400
From: "Lyle Daniels" <lyle.daniels@premeiercontrol13.club>
To: <linuxch-announce.discuss@charon.mit.edu>
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** ToolFront Tape Measure **
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A new way to measure.
Tired of unraveling that old tape measure? Are the numbers fading and getting hard to read? With the ToolFront Tape Measure, you won't have to worry about that!
This tape measure uses a laser guide to record large distances. It also comes with a flexible cord and wheel, so you can measure small and/or round items. The reading will show on a large LED display, giving you an easy-to-read accurate measurement.
The ToolFront Tape Measure is the perfect gift for remodelers, woodworkers, or any one who loves to work with their hands!
Take Up To 50% Off -> http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/ceaseless-separating/c066s239Bh5e8mQ611e46Hcbz82eG40uhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47oQ.on9e5y1_0D6mqsvTJ
K Street Digital Pioneering
9490 Virginia Center Blvd Unit 330
Vienna VA 22181 4802
Change your preferences by clicking here.
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<!--Displaced Person was standing in the open barn door with the green hose
in his hand. There was a certain stiffness about his figure that seemed to
make it necessary for her to approach him slowly, even in her thoughts. She had decided this was because she couldn't hold an easy conversation
with him. Whenever she said anything to him, she found herself shouting
and nodding extravagantly and she would be conscious that one of the
Negroes was leaning behind the nearest shed, watching. "No indeed!" she said, sitting down on one of the feed racks and
folding her arms, "I've made up my mind that I've had enough trashy
people on this place to last me a lifetime and I'm not going to spend my
last years fooling with Shortleys and Ringfields and Collins when the
world is full of people who _have_ to work."
"Howcome they so many extra?" he asked. "People are selfish," she said. "They have too many children. There's
no sense in it any more."
He had picked up the wheelbarrow handles and was backing out the
door and he paused, half in the sunlight and half out, and stood there
chewing his gums as if he had forgotten which direction he wanted to
move in. "What you colored people don't realize," she said, "is that I'm the one
around here who holds all the strings together. If you don't work, I don't
make any money and I can't pay you. You're all dependent on me but you
each and every one act like the shoe is on the other foot."
It was not possible to tell from his face if he heard her. Finally he
backed out with the wheelbarrow. "Judge say the devil he know is better
than the devil he don't," he said in a clear mutter and turned and trundled
off. She got up and followed him, a deep vertical pit appearing suddenly
in the center of her forehead, just under the red bangs. "The Judge has
long since ceased to pay the bills around here," she called in a piercing
voice. He was the only one of her Negroes who had known the Judge and he
thought this gave him title. He had had a low opinion of Mr. Crooms and
Mr. McIntyre, her other husbands, and in his veiled polite way, he had
congratulated her after each of her divorces. When he thought it necessary,
he would work under a window where he knew she was sitting and talk to
himself, a careful roundabout discussion, question and answer and then
refrain. Once she had got up silently and slammed the window down so
hard that he had fallen backwards off his feet. Or occasionally he spoke
with the peacock. The cock would follow him around the place, his
steady eye on the ear of corn that stuck up from the old man's back pocket
or he would sit near him and pick himself. Once from the open kitchen
door, she had heard him say to the bird, "I remember when it was twenty
of you walking about this place and now it's only you and two hens. Crooms it was twelve. McIntyre it was five. You and two hens now."
And that time she had stepped out of the door onto the porch and said,
"MISTER Crooms and MISTER McIntyre! And I don't want to hear you
call either of them anything else again. And you can understand this:
when that peachicken dies there won't be any replacements."
She kept the peacock only out of a superstitious fear of annoying the
Judge in his grave. He had liked to see them walking around the place for
he said they made him feel rich. Of her three husbands, the Judge was the
one most present to her although he was the only one she had buried. He
was in the family graveyard, a little space fenced in the middle of the
back cornfield, with his mother and father and grandfather and three great
aunts and two infant cousins. Mr. Crooms, her second, was forty miles
away in the state asylum and Mr. McIntyre, her last, was intoxicated, she
supposed, in some hotel room in Florida. But the Judge, sunk in the
cornfield with his family, was always at home. She had married him when he was an old man and because of his--->
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<h1 style="font-size: 36px; font-weight: 500; text-align: center; color: #f00f0f;">Measure furniture with the <strong>ToolFront Tape Measure</strong>.</h1>
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<td style="width: 100%;" align="center" width="100%"> <a href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/9716v23r9w5RBW8610O46c1t82ey40bhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47XQ.on9e6lIrn106JA@sJv/circumvented-subscribes" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> <img style="width: 80%; max-width: 340px;" src="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/20f5P23w95zpg7a12y46vcUa_82e_40Bhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47OQ.on9e6WNq10N5Q0svj/acknowledgments-spindled" alt="hero image" width="80%" height="auto" /> </a>
<div style="padding: 6px 0; width: 90%;">
<p style="font-size: 18px; font-weight: 100; text-align: center; line-height: 30px;">Equipped with not only a laser guide but also a flex cord and measuring wheel, the <strong>ToolFront Tape Measure</strong> is a new, innovative tool you can use for furnishing!</p>
<p style="font-size: 18px; font-weight: 100; text-align: center; line-height: 30px;">Get the right size and space measurements you need to get the furniture, for your home or office, that fits in place.</p>
</div> <a href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/9716v23r9w5RBW8610O46c1t82ey40bhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47XQ.on9e6lIrn106JA@sJv/circumvented-subscribes" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> <button style="padding: .6rem 2.5rem .6rem 2.5rem; font-size: 20px; font-weight: 600; border-radius: 6px; margin: 15px auto 30px auto; background-color: #f01919; text-decoration: none; border: none; letter-spacing: 2px; color: #fff00a; cursor: pointer;"> Buy Now </button> </a> </td>
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Anderson Vault Data-Transfer
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337 W. Nation Street
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Wataga IL 61488 9466
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<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">For those who remain, safety has shattered. The <a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/acknowledgments-spindled/b706n2p3o95pY86Y11S46c2wR82eH40zhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47MQ.on9e5GHQ105ulLsv">United Nations</a> has found that all parties in Yemen share responsibility for war crimes, including ?arbitrary deprivation of life, enforced disappearances, arbitrary detention, gender-based violence, including sexual violence, torture,? and more. Children are greatly at risk for death in airstrikes, but also from common childhood diseases and hunger, for which there is limited medical assistance. Saudi and United Arab Emirates blockades of the ports where Yemenis import food have created famine conditions. According to UN Secretary-General António Guterres, ?More than 16 million people are expected to go hungry [in 2021]. Nearly 50,000 Yemenis are already starving to death in famine-like conditions.?</span></p>
<blockquote class="pullquote center">
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">Back in Yemen, she faced physical risks unimaginable in Oregon ? but she also had a sense of worth and belonging. She wondered if the two of them could make a life in Sana'a. Could survive, with just each other.</span></p>
</blockquote>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">Before leaving office, the Trump administration designated the Houthis as terrorists, making international aid delivery trickier. While the Biden administration has reversed this decision and pledged to end support for the conflict, it remains to be seen how much they can disentangle themselves from Saudi allies.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">For many Yemenis, the conflict no longer seems to have a foreseeable end. The civil society they knew is gone. There is only endurance and the slender hope of escape. For Moutaz, that hope is Wafa: ?She always find[s] a way out,? he told me.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"> </p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">When she flew back for her daughter's wedding, the first time she'd been home in five years, her beloved Yemen had been transformed by war. The seaside towns where she had vacationed were destroyed. Community institutions struggled to operate. Buildings had been destroyed in aerial bombing campaigns, leaving swaths of ancient cities in ruins. The highway between Sana'a and Aden, formerly a brisk six-hour drive, was blockaded, forcing her to endure the same harrowing mountain journey her daughter had taken. More than anything, the guns scared her. Armed men patrolled the streets and stopped cars. There was no government, only martial law.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">?But people there, they accept the reality. They are not afraid,? says Kassim. Her local relatives teased her that living in the U.S. had made her soft. ?And I say no, it's normal to be afraid. This is horrible.?</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">To her newlywed daughter and son-in-law, however, the summer of 2019 was bliss. They seemed so elated, Susan asked if they had been taking drugs.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">?I'm like, ?everything is perfect,'? Wafa says. Airstrikes hit a building nearby, and the couple slept through it. </span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">Being together had made them immune to fear ? or perhaps it was a deliberate blindness. If they paid attention to the reality of their situation, they could see the precarity of it all. Wafa only had six months of travel allowance before she had to go back to the U.S. Despite court battles, Trump's travel ban still stood in modified form, and visa processing for Yemeni citizens had ground to a near-halt.</span></p>
<blockquote class="pullquote center">
<p><span style="color: #ffffff;">For many Yemenis, the conflict no longer seems to have a foreseeable end. The civil society they knew is gone. There is only endurance and the slender hope of escape.</span></p>
</blockquote>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">Ten days after the wedding, Moutaz got called back to work. Every six months to a year, he was given a new project-based contract by an NGO. He traveled outside the city to small villages, interviewed tribal communities about their needs, and attempted to provide infrastructure: bathrooms, running water, menstruation products, housing. The work fulfilled him, but it was dangerous. Soldiers often stopped his car, demanding to see travel authorization and receive bribes. He would make a few phone calls, and he could keep driving. But Wafa worried about a time when his answers didn't satisfy them, when his bribe was insufficient, when he didn't come home.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">?It's living without a government. It's crazy I would say, because nobody is held accountable at all,? she says.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">Moutaz didn't have much choice. Humanitarian work, paid for by foreign NGOs, was basically the only viable income in Yemen in 2019. Government officials were paid sporadically; teachers had worked for years without pay; private businesses had suffered from ongoing power outages, infrastructure damage, and a shrinking economy.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">He knew the risks. This is war, he figured; to survive, Yemenis have to support each other. Against those who threatened his safety, he bowed his head, then persisted. Mostly, he refused to be afraid ? a form of defiance that Wafa tried to imitate, especially when her mother begged her to return to Oregon.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"> </p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">?It broke my heart to leave her in that situation that I saw with my own eyes,? says Kassim. Other than official wedding events, Kassim had refused to go out of the house for most of her visit, refused to acknowledge the changed city. She flew home, hopeful that she would reunite with Wafa at the end of the allotted six months.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">Wafa wasn't sure. She felt like she was living in an alternate reality: ?We don't have gas. So what? We walk. We don't have electricity, so what? We have candles.? </span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">As the day of her U.S. flight approached, Moutaz refused to say whether he thought she should go. He wanted the decision to be hers. Once, when she woke in the middle of the night, he was sitting up in bed, tearing up. He would miss her, he said, but he felt relief knowing she would be somewhere safe. ?So I'll just trust you,? he told her.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">She considered staying. Like so many emigrants, her heart was torn between her old home and her future in the U.S. In the end, she left Moutaz and was allowed back into the United States.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">* * *</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">Love can blind us to reality, binding us only to our beloved ? a person, a nation, a memory. We might refuse to see danger, or turn away from transformation, because to acknowledge the horrors of the world would be to betray a beloved relationship. We want to ignore everything except that sweetness.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">No matter where we live, we take refuge in those we love. They shelter us, protect us, comfort us. When those people live far away, the best we can do is pretend. <a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/6835dH2395lU86S12n46RMc3z82ej40Khbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47pQ.on9e5SP1p05Ujszv/acknowledgments-spindled">We wrap their late-night texts and dropped phone calls around us like a blanket, and rapt in a combination of memory and expectation, we clos</a>e our eyes.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">But love can also clarify. For many families separated by national borders, there are hopes of happy endings, but no illusions. Brokenheartedness can become a kind of resting state, which isn't to say it hurts less ? simply that it becomes a kind of ever-present harm. And as anyone wh<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/8814S2395mKW8610C46c4Y82eI40Qhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47vQ.on9e5c1s0l6nqsvkq/Tyburn-Shasta">o has ever</a> hurt before knows,<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/suspected-taste/2884n2395Shu8611p46cJ5s82es40Chbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47lQ.on9e7hpQ1V0U5Pl2sv"> pain wake</a>s us up. It focuses us, fixes us to the present moment. For some, the pain becomes a kind of a beloved, a stand-in for the real thing. For others, like Wafa, it becomes an itch you can't stop scratching.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">* * *</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">Wafa struggled to readjust to the U.S. A six-month newlywed, she felt more like a widow. Reckless, angry, she started graduate school and also a fu<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/nettle-violator/4e05f239s5JD8q610n46c6w82ep40Dhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47kQ.on9e6IUh10M6ONslOv">ll-time job</a>. She was trying, she thinks, to numb herself with endless work.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">It wasn't just missing Moutaz. Going home also mea<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/circumvented-subscribes/ada5GB2395w8hu610Q46c7m82ew40khbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47tQ.on9e6kBNv106n1sqvJ">nt resu</a>ming a role as an immigrant, rather than a citizen. It meant accepting a status shift that she hadn't realized she resented so much.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;"><a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/hardworking-portends/6484A2395a8wA610s46c8o82ew40rhbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47SQ.on9e7vv1pKp05LysvO">?Back in my country, I live in a villa. I have a driver. I have peop</a>le that do shit for me. Yet when we move here, people don't know that. We start from zero,? she says. ?It hurts ? I'm this established person back home, yet here I'm irrelevant.?</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"><span style="color: #ffffff;">That pain had started early. D<a style="color: #ffffff;" href="http://www.premeiercontrol13.club/suspected-taste/4685t23h95Sm86Q10J46c9y82eH40Ohbr47Ga-Drrs4rGIEHbwG4wwfGaDvsrEibxEIH47LQ.on9e6M1slG05lysWv">uring her o</a>wn emigration process in 2015, she had flown to Algeria for an interview at the U.S. Embassy. As the passengers disembarked, an officer in the airport asked who was a Yemeni citizen. Without further questions, he told them to get back on the plane and fly home.</span></p>
<p data-adtags-visited="true"> </p>
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