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Bargain Air Flights

bargain air flights

  • An agreement between two or more parties as to what each party will do for the other

  • A thing bought or offered for sale more cheaply than is usual or expected

  • dicker: negotiate the terms of an exchange; "We bargained for a beautiful rug in the bazaar"

  • an agreement between parties (usually arrived at after discussion) fixing obligations of each; "he made a bargain with the devil"; "he rose to prominence through a series of shady deals"

  • an advantageous purchase; "she got a bargain at the auction"; "the stock was a real buy at that price"

  • (flight) shoot a bird in flight

  • (flight) an instance of traveling by air; "flying was still an exciting adventure for him"

  • (in soccer, cricket, etc.) Deliver (a ball) with well-judged trajectory and pace

  • (flight) fly in a flock; "flighting wild geese"

  • Shoot (wildfowl) in flight

  • The invisible gaseous substance surrounding the earth, a mixture mainly of oxygen and nitrogen

  • This substance regarded as necessary for breathing

  • be broadcast; "This show will air Saturdays at 2 P.M."

  • air out: expose to fresh air; "aerate your old sneakers"

  • The free or unconfined space above the surface of the earth

  • a mixture of gases (especially oxygen) required for breathing; the stuff that the wind consists of; "air pollution"; "a smell of chemicals in the air"; "open a window and let in some air"; "I need some fresh air"

bargain air flights - To Conquer

To Conquer the Air : The Wright Brothers and the Great Race for Flight

To Conquer the Air : The Wright Brothers and the Great Race for Flight

"For some years I have been afflicted with the belief that flight is possible to man. My disease has increased in severity and I feel that it will soon cost me an increased amount of money if not my life."
So wrote a quiet young Ohioan in 1900, one in an ancient line of men who had wanted to fly -- men who wanted it passionately, fecklessly, hopelessly. But now, at the turn of the twentieth century, Wilbur Wright and a scattered handful of other adventurers conceived a conviction that the dream lay at last within reach, and in a headlong race across ten years and two continents, they competed to conquer the air. James Tobin, winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award in biography, has at last given this inspiring story its definitive telling.
For years Wright and his younger brother, Orville, experimented in utter obscurity, supported only by their exceptional family. Meanwhile, the world watched as the imperious Samuel Langley, armed with a rich contract from the U.S. War Department and all the resources of the Smithsonian Institution, sought to scale up his unmanned models to create the first manned flying machine. But while Langley became obsessed with flight as a problem of power, the Wrights grappled with it as a problem of balance. Thus their machines took two very different paths -- his toward oblivion, theirs toward the heavens.
As Tobin relates, the Wrights' 1903 triumph at Kitty Hawk, however hallowed in American lore, was ill-reported and disbelieved. So, while the two brothers struggled to transform their delicate contraption into a practical airplane, others moved to overtake them as the leading pioneers of flight. In France, rivals scoffed at the Wrightseven as they rushed to imitate them. At home, the great inventor Alexander Graham Bell seized the fallen banner of his friend Langley and thrust it into the hands of a circle of young daredevils, urging them to get into the air. From this group emerged the motorcyclist Glenn Curtiss, fastest man in the world, whose aerial challenge to Wilbur Wright culminated in an unforgettable showdown over New York harbor.
"To Conquer the Air" is a hero's tale of overcoming obstacles within and without that plumbs the depths of creativity and character. With a historian's accuracy and a novelist's eye, Tobin has captured the interplay of remarkable personalities at an extraordinary moment in our history. In the centennial year of human flight, "To Conquer the Air" is itself a heroic achievement.

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Robert Cremean: Pater Noster and Puer Aeternus (Pages 9 and 10 of the Winter Notebooks ) from STUDIO SECTION 2005-2007, The Seven Deadly Sins and Three Diptychs from The Winter Notebooks

Robert Cremean: Pater Noster and Puer Aeternus (Pages 9 and 10 of the Winter Notebooks ) from STUDIO SECTION 2005-2007, The Seven Deadly Sins and Three Diptychs from The Winter Notebooks

80" x 96"
Colored pencil, graphite, acrylic on wood panel

Crocker Art Museum

Hereafter are the transcriptions of the handwritten text on the above two panels. The first for the panel on the left and the second for the panel on the right:

Left Panel

"He has created Me as I have created Him. As He lives, I live. If He diminishes, I diminish. If He dies, I die. My laws are His laws. I define Him as He defines Me. We are inseparable, cut from the whole cloth of self-deception. He serves my purpose. By giving face to that which is not, I have created Him in My image. By My will He has created the universe. By His word I control Mine. In the beginning there was the word and the word was Mine. Fear. Out of fear I created Him, and through fear I control Mine. Through belief We exist and by consensus We prevail. Belief is the second word in the alphabet of survival. We impose order for the good of the congregation. Through fear We enforce belief. As We maintain the mirrored sphere of relativity and relationships, we demand only that the congregation believe in Our mutual self-creation. I am He and He is Me, a simple equation for mutual preservation. Enforcement is the third word in the alphabet of survival. Mine is the most primitive word in the alphabet. To have, to take, to keep, to kill. This Mineness has preserved Our Isness from the beginning of domination. The seventh word is Infinity, a belief in beyondness, the seductive lure of extension, expansion, dominion. Life beyond death. Mine. My invention of time has given dimension to My enterprise. My survival instincts have elevated reproduction into metaphor and myth, repetition into history. My Isness has defined My species from the beginning of that which is. It is I who Am. We have survived, He and I, millennium upon millennium in symbiotic union. In congregation, We have enforced Our fealty, We have forced recognition of Our essentiality. Through force and threat of force We have reified definition. Through punishment and threat of punishment We have established infinity, dominion, repetition, and dogma. We have created Ourself, complete and inseparable, immortalized by obeisance. What We destroy creates Us. Those We exile confirm Us. What We reflect repeats us. Generation after generation, Father after Father, We maintain fear and stasis. This is so and has always been so. We are the beginning and the end. Sated and bloated with our repetition, We have created one too many prophets, one too many means for mutual suicide. We implode. Out of fear We wrap the fogs of illusion tighter to oblate the light. But nothing will stay Our diminishment. Our congregations will destroy Us in Our name. What irony! Our suicide was foretold and only We, the victim, could not foresee its inevitability. We created Us and within Our creation was the prophecy of Our destruction As We believed Ourselves to be, We have become. Illusion defined Us. Illusion defeats Us. Illusion destroys Us. In the beginning was the word and the word was fear. In the Now there is the word and the word is fear. In the beginning and in the now is repetition, and through fear and repetition nature engulfs us all. All its species including Us who survive by illusion. We who insist on our separateness, Our divinity, Our dominion, Our illusion. Nature fears Us and ignores Our illusions. It shits on Our statues and rusts Our artifacts. What We believe and what We make are of no consequence. What Our prophecies portend and what Our fate will be is of no consequence. We are what Our species is and exist accordingly, hermetically and divine. Our hunger is magnificent. We devour the earth. We pollute the waters and the air with the wastes of Our sovereignty—and We pollute Our offspring with illusion. We are bloated with aggrandizement and waste. We falter in Our certitude. We have over-reached the horizon of illusion We are insupportable. Cast into confusion, We thrash about in the quicksand of conflicting dogmas. We attack Our reflection and eat Our young. Through fear, We have created Our conclusion and the conclusion of Our dominion. We have existed too long. We control now through platitude and cliche, addiction and repetition, enforcement and threat. Fear. We are gaseous with rot and self-corruption. We who have ever been the means for survival are now survival’s end. Our prophecies are now concrete...We have reached completion. The creator no longer masks the destroyer. We are one. Bloated and defeated by Our victory, We have secured Our destination, the end of history, and still We refrain. Our belief demands actualization, proof of Our oneness...and still We refrain. We are afraid. Doubt bloats Us. Fear bloats Us. We are bloated by oneness. Consumed by completion, without proof of completion, We are suspended within a bubble of silence. Waiting. Our death is assured. We are bloated with it. We reek of it. All, save Us, know that this is so. We are senseless wit



I do believe this to be a juvenile Red-Tailed Hawk, but as with all birds in flight above me, I am never completely sure of the ID. These were taken somewhere around North Hampton, Massachusetts yesterday -- above a parking lot somewhere --- I tend not to pay attention to my surroundings when I "go into city civilization" --- but let me spy 3 hawks flying in the air and I becoming a screaming meemee!!
"Stop the car, stop the car, Let me out, let me out, There's Hawks, there's hawks" I cried as I scrambled to grab my camera that had been idle for a week, but finally with me on the floor of the front seat. By the time my son did pull over and I was able to get out, one adult and one juvenile had taken off towards the trees, but one Babe stayed around just long enough for me to get a few clicks. Not the sharpest of images, but I was shooting almost straight up and into the mid-day sun, and a little rusty since I hadn't taken a photo IN A WHOLE WEEK!!!
Guess it goes without saying, this sighting was the highlight of my day -- second only to being able to spend an entire day with my beloved Grandson, Tristen!!
I am a spoiled brat when it comes to having to endure the fumes, sights, sounds of the city in the daytime ONLY. Give me a few hours in Boston or NYC in the evening/nighttime and NOT in a car, and I can actually enjoy myself. Go figure!

SIDE NOTE: I tried to be a "nice Neighbor" and I let the new guys upstairs hook up a wireless router on to my satellite dish. Now Hughes Internet sucks to begin with, but I thought what the heck --- if I charge them $20 a month to help defray my $70+ monthly payment and they get a bargain and service, too?? Now my internet speed is so SLOW because the bandwidth usage is OVER the limit every day --- and it isn't even them using it!!! The overage was yesterday between 2-4pm and NO BODY was even home then -- not me, not the couple who uses the service!!!
So my enjoyment of your wonderful photos & commenting is sporadic and must be done either very early in the morning (like before 7am when the bandwidth usage is free) or like today after 4pm when the clock rolls over on yesterday's excess. I'm very frustrated, but know we will get this resolved, one way or the other. Please bear with me -- I'm missing all of you already!!

bargain air flights

bargain air flights

Artifacts of Flight: Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum

The National Air and Space Museum, USA has taken great care to collect and preserve artefacts relating to the history of flight. These objects - culled from famous aviators and astronauts, planes and spacecraft, and popular culture sources such as television and motion pictures - are a testament to the impact that the science of flight has made upon mankind. The artefacts range in size from a message capsule for a carrier pigeon to the space shuttle, and in time from the first photograph of ballooning in America (1857) to a humanitarian food ration dropped over Afghanistan (2001). Each object is accompanied by a succinct description of its place in history, replete with anecdotes.

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