If you've never been really afraid, let me tell you - it does things to you. It takes over your mind and your body. You want to scream. You want to run. You want to wet your pants. You want to throw yourself down on the ground and cry and beg please, please, please, please don't kill me! And if you think you're brave, well, wait till you're cowering a few feet away from a monster who can turn you into coleslaw in about three seconds flat. But then the Andalite's voice was in my head again. < Courage, my friends. >
Don't make a promise you won't keep
“We gave the Nikara the keys to the heavens, and they stole our land and
murdered my daughter.” The Sorqan Sira’s voice was flat, emotionless, as if
she were merely recounting an interesting anecdote, as if her pain had
already been processed so many times she could not feel it anymore.
Rin bent over on her hands and knees, gasping. She couldn’t scrub the
image of Jiang from her mind. Jiang, her master, cackling with his hands
covered with blood.
“Surprised?” asked the Sorqan Sira.
“But I knew him,” Rin whispered. “I know what he’s like, he’s not like
that . . .”
“How would you know what the Gatekeeper is like?” The Sorqan Sira
sneered. “Have you ever asked him about his past? Did you have any idea?”
The worst part was that it all made sense—the truth had dawned on Rin,
awful and bitter, and the mystery of Jiang was clear to her now; she knew
why he’d fled, why he’d hidden in the Chuluu Korikh.
He must have been starting to remember.
The man she had met at Sinegard had been no more than a shade of a
person; a pathetic, affable shade of a personality suppressed. He had not
been pretending. She was certain of that. No one could pretend that well.
He had simply not known. The Seal had stolen his memories, just like it
would one day steal hers, and hidden them behind a wall in his mind.
Was it better now that he remained in his stone prison, suspended
halfway between amnesia and sanity?
“You see now. You’ll understand if we’d rather put an end to you.” The
Sorqan Sira nodded to Bekter.
Her unspoken command rang clear in Rin’s mind. Kill them.
“Wait!” Rin struggled to her feet. “Please—you don’t have to—”
“I don’t entertain begging, girl.”
“I’m not begging, I’m bartering,” Rin said quickly. “We have the same
enemy. You want Daji dead. You want revenge. Yes? So do I. Kill
Jim not that way Jim. That's no way to treat a garage door, bending stiffly down at the waist and yanking at the handle so the door jerks up and out jerky and hard and you crack your shins and my ruined knees, son. Let's see you bend at the healthy knees. Let's see you hook a soft hand lightly over the handle feeling its subtle grain and pull just as exactly gently as will make it come to you. Experiment, Jim. See just how much force you need to start the door easy, let it roll up out open on its hidden greasy rollers and pulleys in the ceiling's set of spiderwebbed beams. Think of all garage doors as the well-oiled open-out door of a broiler with hot meat in, heat roiling out, hot. Needless and dangerous ever to yank, pull, shove, thrust. Your mother is a shover and a thruster, son. She treats bodies outside herself without respect or due care. She's never learned that treating things in the gentlest most relaxed way is also treating them and your own body in the most efficient way. It's Marlon Brando's fault, Jim. Your mother back in California before you were born, before she became a devoted mother and long-suffering wife and breadwinner, son, your mother had a bit part in a Marlon Brando movie. Her big moment. Had to stand there in saddle shoes and bobby sox and ponytail and put her hands over her ears as really loud motorbikes roared by. A major thespian moment, believe you me. She was in love from afar with this fellow Marlon Brando, son. Who? Who. Jim, Marlon Brando was the archetypal new-type actor who ruined it looks like two whole generations' relations with their own bodies and the everyday objects and bodies around them. No? Well it was because of Brando you were opening that garage door like that, Jimbo. The disrespect gets learned and passed on. Passed
Kitabın Özeti (E-Kitap) Güzel bir Kitap
1918 flu killed many times more than World War I (25).
Kalp Damar için CRP (protein) Kolestrolden Önemli: How can you measure the amount of inflammatory damage? A great marker is turning out to be something called C-reactive protein CRP. It is made in the liver and is secreted in response to a signal indicating an injury (131). Among other things, it helps trap bad cholesterol in the inflamed aggregate. CRP is a turning out to be a much better predictor cardiovascular diease risk than cholesterol, even years in advance of disease onset (132).
Hamileliğin 3 Aşaması ve Beslenme
During the latter parts of pregnancy feuts learning about ho plentiful food is in that ousdie World, and a famine winds up teaching it hat jeez, there is not ahwoşe lo of food out there, better store every smidgen of it. Something about the metabolism of the fetüs shifts permanently, a feature called metabolic imprinting or programming (265).
Throughout life, even late in life that organism is more at risk for hyperhension, obesity, adult onset diabetes and cardiovacular disease (266).
Fakat bunun olabilmesi için doğduktan sonra bol gıdaya kavuşabilmelisin. Yani depolayacak gıdanın olduğunu deneyimleyebilmesin ki metabolizman depolamaya alışsın. Hollanda kıtlığında bu olmuş.
Low birth weight still predicts an increased risk of diabetes and hypertension (267).
Pregnancy and Stress
If you stress pregnant rats you demasculinize the male fetüs (272).
Açlık ve Hamilelik (OHA)
Açıkla doğan kadın kendisi hamile kaldığında fetüse daha az yemek gidiyor (276).
Dokunma ve Büyüme
It turns out to be touch, and it has to be active touching. Separate a baby rat from its moteher and its growth hormone levels plummet. Allow it contact with its mother while she is aneshetized, and growth hormone is still low. Mimic
Tear the binding from around the foot
of your soul, and let it race around the track
in front of the crowd. Loosen the knot of greed
so tight on your neck. Accept your new good luck.
Give your weakness
to one who helps.
Crying out loud and weeping are great resources.
A nursing mother, all she does
is wait to hear her child.
Just a little beginning-whimper,
and she's there.
God created the child, that is, your wanting,
so that it might cry out, so that milk might come.
Cry out! Don't be stolid and silent
with your pain. Lament! And let the milk
of loving flow into you.
The hard rain and wind
are ways the cloud has
to take care of us.
Be patient.
Respond to every call
that excites your spirit.
"Especially mothers: the data shows that half the increase in child survival in the world happens because the mothers can read and write. More children now survive because they don't get ill in the first place. Trained midwives assist their mothers during pregnancy and delivery. Nurses immunize them. They have enough food, their parents keep them warm and clean, people around them wash their hands, and their mothers can read the instructions on that jar of pills. So if you are investing money to improve health on Level 1 or 2, you should put it into primary schools, nurse education, and vaccinations. Big impressive-looking hospitals can wait."
