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Bianca Hopes "The B" Group

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Andrew Martin
Andrew Martin

1 : Three Brothers, Standing Under The Clouds EXCLUSIVE

Tenka is the eldest of the three Kumō brothers, as well as the 14th head of the shrine. He is both the father and mother figure to his younger brothers after the death of their parents. When in combat, Tenka is known to be strong enough to defeat dozens of prisoners in an instant with nothing but a fan, as well as being quick on his feet. He refuses to let his siblings take part in any battles, always rescuing them from dangerous situations. He shows symptoms of being the Orochi's vessel, and is promptly prosecuted without a trial, but is later revealed to be alive under the protection of the police. After fighting against the Orochi and Fuma ninjas (including Shirasu and his younger brother), he sustained wounds that left him requiring a wheelchair, unable to walk again.

1 : Three Brothers, Standing Under the Clouds


103. Fraternity is born not only of a climate of respect for individual liberties, or even of a certain administratively guaranteed equality. Fraternity necessarily calls for something greater, which in turn enhances freedom and equality. What happens when fraternity is not consciously cultivated, when there is a lack of political will to promote it through education in fraternity, through dialogue and through the recognition of the values of reciprocity and mutual enrichment? Liberty becomes nothing more than a condition for living as we will, completely free to choose to whom or what we will belong, or simply to possess or exploit. This shallow understanding has little to do with the richness of a liberty directed above all to love.

220. Indigenous peoples, for example, are not opposed to progress, yet theirs is a different notion of progress, often more humanistic than the modern culture of developed peoples. Theirs is not a culture meant to benefit the powerful, those driven to create for themselves a kind of earthly paradise. Intolerance and lack of respect for indigenous popular cultures is a form of violence grounded in a cold and judgmental way of viewing them. No authentic, profound and enduring change is possible unless it starts from the different cultures, particularly those of the poor. A cultural covenant eschews a monolithic understanding of the identity of a particular place; it entails respect for diversity by offering opportunities for advancement and social integration to all.

237. Forgiveness and reconciliation are central themes in Christianity and, in various ways, in other religions. Yet there is a risk that an inadequate understanding and presentation of these profound convictions can lead to fatalism, apathy and injustice, or even intolerance and violence.

It ws April 4, 2007, around 6 pm, when my father passed away shortly after a tornado hit Haltom City, TX. I was not with him when the incident took place. On this day storms were everywhere and sirens were going off. That is the normal during spring time in Texas. My father's friend, who owned the property, told me the following story the day after the storm while he was recovering from injuries in the hospital. They were standing outside while sirens were going off looking at the green skies when things got unusually calm and quiet. My father looked up and saw a "hole" in the sky and shouted "RUN!!!!". The friends split up. My father went under a large wooden rack where tons of lumber was stored. His friend hung onto an oak tree and didn't let go. Debris flew all around them severing my fathers ear in half. When that happened, he looked over and saw the shelf was going to collapse on top of my father. He shouted for him to get out from under the lumber and run to the tree but unfortunately the sound of the roaring tornado was too loud for my father to hear hi sfriend. The shelf collapsed with my father under it and the F1 lifted up and was over. After my father got pulled out with the help of everyone that was around, someone performed CPR but there was no saving his life. He had no broken bones and his body was still intact. The medical examiner ruled it cardiac dysrhythmia. My father's friend made it out with cuts and bruises.

Fast forward to November 11 2002, Mossy Grove, TN. The skies were so blue all day but I had a pit in my stomach when I seen the black clouds off in the distance. Poor Nana was at church that night along with a bunch of other family and my cousin Linda got up with her newborn to get a drink from the water fountain near the entrance. She looked up and saw the huge tornado coming across the parking lot. She ran and dove into the pews while the tornado moved and twisted the church off its foundation. Most of the congregation dove to the corner. That corner of the church was still there after it was over. We lost lives that night and in such a small county we felt every single loss, especially the small baby who didn't even get to start her life. Her papa was trying to rush her to safety from the mobile home they were in. Ironically, their mobile home wasn't touched but their truck was and both of them perished together. That town still bares the scars and the fear. All of us do really. I was once told we couldn't be hit by tornadoes because of the mountains. What a foolish thing to say, especially since Mossy Grove almost got hit again later but the skies showed mercy that day and settled down almost as if it took pity on us and our non-Walmart or McDonalds town. Lightening can and it will strike twice, three, four times in the same spot. The sad thing is most of us still aren't really prepared for another one. I'm working on a plan. That is the best thing to have here in Dixie Alley because the storms are getting worse. The April outbreak was a nightmare and I got stuck in a Food City that was about to close while there was another tornado warning for where I was. I was so froze in fear so my father drove to me just to let me follow him home. His truck was struck by lightening on his way. Anyway, stay prepared people and most importantly stay informed. I listen to the Weather Channel and am grateful. My 6 year old son is a meteorologist in the making. He loves weather as I do and can tell you how any storm happens, hurricanes.. little feller he is.

People were watching for Martians here from the church towers. Mybrother, very luckily for him as it chanced, preferred to push on atonce to the coast rather than wait for food, although all three ofthem were very hungry. By midday they passed through Tillingham,which, strangely enough, seemed to be quite silent and deserted, savefor a few furtive plunderers hunting for food. Near Tillingham theysuddenly came in sight of the sea, and the most amazing crowd ofshipping of all sorts that it is possible to imagine.

Some of the passengers were of opinion that this firing came fromShoeburyness, until it was noticed that it was growing louder. At thesame time, far away in the southeast the masts and upperworks of threeironclads rose one after the other out of the sea, beneath clouds ofblack smoke. But my brother's attention speedily reverted to thedistant firing in the south. He fancied he saw a column of smokerising out of the distant grey haze.

Keeping his footing on the heaving deck by clutching the bulwarks,my brother looked past this charging leviathan at the Martians again,and he saw the three of them now close together, and standing so farout to sea that their tripod supports were almost entirely submerged.Thus sunken, and seen in remote perspective, they appeared far lessformidable than the huge iron bulk in whose wake the steamer waspitching so helplessly. It would seem they were regarding this newantagonist with astonishment. To their intelligence, it may be, thegiant was even such another as themselves. The Thunder Childfired no gun, but simply drove full speed towards them. It wasprobably her not firing that enabled her to get so near the enemy asshe did. They did not know what to make of her. One shell, and theywould have sent her to the bottom forthwith with the Heat-Ray.

The steam hung upon the water for many minutes, hiding the thirdMartian and the coast altogether. And all this time the boat waspaddling steadily out to sea and away from the fight; and when at lastthe confusion cleared, the drifting bank of black vapour intervened,and nothing of the Thunder Child could be made out, nor couldthe third Martian be seen. But the ironclads to seaward were nowquite close and standing in towards shore past the steamboat.

Violence as a way of achieving racial justice is both impractical and immoral. I am not unmindful of the fact that violence often brings about momentary results. Nations have frequently won their independence in battle. But in spite of temporary victories, violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more complicated ones. Violence is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending in destruction for all. It is immoral because it seeks to humiliate the opponent rather than win his understanding: it seeks to annihilate rather than convert. Violence is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than love. It destroys community and makes brotherhood impossible. It leaves society in monologue rather than dialogue. Violence ends up defeating itself. It creates bitterness in the survivors and brutality in the destroyers.

Olympos is clearly described in Homer's Iliad. It was essentially an ancient akropolis--a fortified hill-top and palace complex--located just below the peaks of Mount Olympos. The golden gates of the heavenly fortress were guarded by the three Horai (Horae) and it contained the palace of Zeus, lesser palaces for the other gods, and stables for the immortal horses. The buildings were built of stone with bronze foundations and were surrounded by cloistered courtyards with golden pavements.The main structure was the palace of Zeus. It had a fairly simple layout--as was typical of ancient Greek palaces--with a central hall, private bedchambers and storage rooms. The golden-floored hall served as both a council chamber and feast-hall for the Olympian gods and provided them an expansive view of the world below allowing them to observe mankind from the heights. The golden tables and tripods of the feast were automatons animated by the divine smith Hephaistos (Hephaestus), and trundled in and out of the hall as required.Before the palace of Zeus was a large, cloistered courtyard where the full assembly of the gods would gather--including all of the earth-, river- and sea-deities as well as nymphs.The peak of Olympos functioned as the secondary seat or throne of Zeus, apart from the rest of other gods.The Olympian akropolis lay above the clouds and the paths of the stars, near the apex of the solid bronze-dome of the sky. It existed in the zone known as the aither--the bright upper-air of heaven or shining blue of the sky. The gods feasted on ambrosia and nectar, substances collected from the meadows of the earth-encircling river Okeanos or the smoke of sacrificial offerings wafting to heaven. 041b061a72


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