If you've been in San Francisco for any significant amount of time, chances are good that you've at least heard of the Frequency 8 crew. Since the '90s, the outfit's done a lot to further the position of trance in the Bay Area via its lavish raves, record label, and now-shuttered Haight street record store. Not being too familiar, I enlisted the help of a good friend of mine who grew up in the genre. I asked him if he wanted to to go the party, and his response captured the theme of enthusiasm that began to course through the rest of the night: "F-8!? No way! I used to drive down from Sac just to go to their parties, that's what got me into dance music!"
We had a group of about five situated in the middle of a packed dancefloor at DNA Lounge. We stood out like sore thumbs, wearing drab clothes next to the clubland equivalent of a tropical aquarium. Everywhere there was eye-piercing color: neon blue, bright red tracing off the edge of a light glove, flashes from highlighter yellow glowsticks, and mounds of multi-colored "kandi" bracelets -- fog did little to obscure the rest. The music was melodically lush, but played at an arrhythmia-inducing speed. It was trance. The DJ, Thomas Datt, moved like an orchestra conductor, emulating the superstars of the late-'90s with carefully chosen poses that gave the illusion he was controlling every element from the patter of high-hats to the genre's tell-tale rushing drops. Below him, a flat-white geometric construction reflected psychedelic scenery of endless clouds, '80s vector graphic mountains, and other assorted digital landscapes. Two girls in white bikinis and feather boas walked by, their mouths a garble of confusing rainbows generated by LED-saturated pacifiers.
One of the most startling things about the night was how young everyone was. Going into this blind, I assumed that Frequency 8, being one of the older trance crews, would draw an gemstone beads. This wasn't the case; instead everyone present appeared to be between the ages of 18 and 21, with relatively few outliers -- those who were older blended in by virtue of the kandi kid subculture's fixation on pre-teen accoutrements. This had a nice fringe benefit in that none of the bars were ever busy, though I imagine that says more about the consensus choice of substance than anything else. Age aside, it was a very diverse crowd, with the aforementioned kandi kids mingling easily with a misfit assortment of anime otaku, unabashed Redditors, furries in full garb, and a troop of people clearly invested in totally losing their minds.
Trance as a musical genre, when listened to for long enough in a club setting, has a weird effect at high volume. It sucks you into its swirling melodies and ambient wafts of synthesizer. It's immersive in a way that's similar to techno, though the feeling is more dreamy. At the front of the room, a small group of partiers rested standing against the stage with their heads tucked into their arms. I felt my own consciousness drift away into the music, catching myself five or 10 minutes later almost dozing off to the monotonous ebb and flow of the rush. It was at that point that we decided to gather our wits and leave the main room for a while to visit "The Observation Deck," the party's second room dedicated to hardcore, gabber, and drum 'n' bass.
I'm not the most eloquent notetaker while out reviewing these parties. Looking back though, my one sentence about the upstairs room seems relevant: "worm of pure energy, drilling thru my ear." This was indeed a much more hardcore experience than the comparatively pleasant dream music of the main room. It was pure aggression, with a similar crowd hyping themselves up and pogoing to blasting hits of 180 BPM+ hardcore. The DJ, whose name I didn't catch, mixed these sounds on the fly in truly old-school fashion with the crustiest looking box of vinyl records I've seen in the wild. Hyper remixes of Skrillex's "Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites" mingled with more esoteric fare, but proved a huge hit with a dancefloor that rarely wavered throughout the night. Eventually the music switched, moving towards futuristic interpretations of drum 'n' bass with little bits of dubstep thrown in for good measure. The aggression was awesome, but even better was the earnest party spirit and unironic punk ethos that filled the air.
By the time we made it back to the main room, the tempo had caught up with the music upstairs. Now it was Scott Brown on the decks and he was working fast to cram in as many heavy-hitting hard-trance tracks as he could before the 2 a.m. cutoff. Booming hoover basses and near incomprehensible kick drum patterns flashed from the subwoofer in five-minute blurts before melting into gooey synth pads played beatlessly as interludes. With each track he pushed faster, playing a string of tracks that included Captain Tinrib vs Mars & Mystr?'s "Save the Rave," Art of Trance's "Madagascar," and Mars' "Pachelbel 8000." Throughout it all he wove in a repeating spoken word vocal that affirmed again and again, "You're rocking with the best!"
They got burned on their sensationalist claims that hydraulic fracturing caused flaming faucets. They were sunk by their own studies showing that fracking was responsible for groundwater contamination. They've sent in the Justice Department to harry the biggest names in the industry over so-called anti-competitive practices. Now the government's newest assault on the practice comes from the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, which is proposing new, stricter regulations on the sand that's used in the fracking process.
Fracking, which has been done for more than 60 years, is a process in which drillers pump large amounts of Wholesale beads, fluids, and chemicals deep into the ground under high pressure and cause the shale rock to crack. The fluids contain sand or ceramic beads called proppants that prop open the fissures and allow the gas and oil to flow more freely.
But as the practice has grown exponentially, environmental activists and regulators suggest that the sand itself presents a health hazard to workers much the way asbestos does. Silica isn't like beach sand, but rather is a much finer, purer material. Imagine clouds of dust billowing up when a saw cuts through concrete, and you get the idea of what they're suggesting workers are breathing in.
While the Obama administration estimates 700 lives a year can be saved by putting new rules in place, industry representatives say the current regulations already adequately protect workers because they reduce or completely eliminate the risk of breathing in the fine particulates. Moreover, the cost of the new regs would be huge. The new rules also apply to industries outside oil and gas, and the metal-casting industry alone says they will cost about $1.5 billion annually to implement.
Under the proposal, companies would have to cut in half the amount of silica exposure currently allowed for general industry and maritime workers, and by 80% in the construction industry. Part of the problem with the new rules, however, is there is a dearth of certified labs available that can measure the levels of silica dust OSHA wants to reduce them to, though the agency has magnanimously said it would be willing to delay the lab requirements for two years to allow the industry to catch up.
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Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Meet 7 Women who redefine Independence
I still remember that post her accident and the subsequent treatment at AIIMS, Arunima tried to meet me several times, but I was travelling. The day I reached Jamshedpur, she called again and said she would come to meet me the next day. I didn’t take her seriously. How would she get the tickets so soon? But she reached. That was the day, I realised how focused she was.
When we met, she told me she wanted to climb Everest. I was stunned! Sometimes I still can’t believe it. I told her, by setting such a goal she had already climbed her first Everest.
I asked her to come for the Tata Steel Adventure Foundation (TSAF) outdoor leadership program. We tried to create a motivating, positive and supportive atmosphere for her. It didn’t happen overnight. In the beginning, the team held her hand and took her up and jewelry findings. Later we trained her with load, increasing it gradually. Then we taught her to walk on ice and finally took her to 13,000 feet to test her physiology on high altitudes. It took one year for her to prepare.
The journey wasn’t easy, but she converts every problem into an opportunity. If she found something difficult, she would want to do it again. Looking at her zeal and courage, we presented her details to our MD and sponsored her Everest climb. I also told the MD of the company we had tied up with in Khatmandu that he should not show her pity, but understand what she is made of and support her. She dragged herself physically, but did it.
Mom never lets people know of her worries. We grew up in a very protective environment. Only when I was around 10 years old, did it register that things were amiss. I learnt of my fathers’ addictions even later, around age 16. My sister and I didn’t see the rough side, but when you’re living at your maternal grandmother’s house, and your dad’s fine through the day (he used to drop us to school every morning), but you’re kept away from him in the evening, you know something is wrong.
Mom’s focus was on fending for the family and ensuring that we move up in life. Her day started at 4 am, so in a lot of ways our grandma mothered us. Mom started a business with jams and crystal beads wholesale. Later she put up a small kiosk selling tea, coffee and snacks at a marina in Chennai. Then came the first major turning point for her — getting a contract from the National Institute of Port Management. She had to be there full time, because footfalls ranged from hundreds to thousands.
Every day we saw her getting tougher and tougher. Realizing the kind of ordeal mom was going through for us, our bond with her grew very strong. Today, when I’ve joined the business and deal with skilled labour, I often ask her, ‘How did you handle these people?’ I guess her strength lies in her straightforwardness; she’ll tell you things to your face if she thinks something’s wrong. At the same time, she easily senses if you’re not fine and will act on it.
I was always interested in the food industry, but knowing the kind of struggle it requires, she didn’t want me to pursue it. Moreover, inspired by travel tales of the navy officers I met, I joined the navy, and worked for a Norwegian company. During the time I was away, my sister and she grew very close. She wouldn’t tell me she missed me, but managed to find a way to reach me even on the ship. I was the only person aboard to get a call every week. When my sister and her husband expired due to an accident, soon after their wedding, mom went completely out of line. She stopped going out for three to four years. It was difficult to see her that way, and watch twenty years of her hard work go unattended, so I decided to take it up. When I made mistakes, she advised and corrected me but didn’t resume work.
FICCI came to us at this point of time; the award was a complete game changer. A regular person just works to make a living, not to get media limelight, but the award made mom recognize her own achievement. Colleges invited her to speak on entrepreneurship. Seeing that so many people looked up to her, she realized she that shouldn't get bogged down. She became active again. Now, she doesn’t micro manage because she wants me to grow, but advices me and monitors things from time to time.
But Suzy fought every odd that life threw at her. People who stayed around her before the accident were now out of sight. Suzy didn’t lose hope. She focused on ‘what next.’ Confidence and optimism led her to the path of becoming one of the most successful stock traders in the Asian market, in 2005. Today, Suzy runs a very successful celebrity talk show, conducts motivational lectures for NASA scientists, is a TED speaker and runs an NGO (Shraddha) for spinally injured children. She has adopted two children whose parents died of spinal injury. Coming from a middle-class background, she may not have the luxuries of life but she has peace of mind.
'Is baar beta paida karna, sab theek hoga (this time, make sure you give birth to a son then everything will be sorted)’ is what my mother-in-law said when she first, heard I was pregnant with Pooja. God had already blessed me with a daughter so my family didn’t want a girl child again. When Pooja was born in 1985, no one visited us, in the hospital, for three days. I didn’t have a change of clothes for Pooja or for myself. Finally, on the tenth day, my husband came to take us home. But, clearly, we were not welcome. He would often tell me to get rid of Pooja; send her to an orphanage. I had to choose between my husband and Pooja. I chose my daughter. ‘This girl will make me proud,’ is what I told my husband while parting ways.
With Rs.82 in my pocket, I began a new life in Mumbai with Shubhra and Pooja. I would cook some food, leave two glasses of milk and lock them up at home before stepping out to office. In the need to give the best to my daughters I decided to leave them back in Mumbai with my mother and move to a better-paying job, in Goa. Often, Pooja would call, cry over the phone and ask me to come back to Mumbai. When I moved back to India after 4-5 years, I was happy to see Pooja grown up into a strong-minded and independent girl. I remember, in school, when her friends would ask about her father, she would simply say, ‘he’s away on the ship.’ Pooja has never questioned me about her father. She would share her feelings, her insecurities with Shubhra, who was an anchor to her.
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When we met, she told me she wanted to climb Everest. I was stunned! Sometimes I still can’t believe it. I told her, by setting such a goal she had already climbed her first Everest.
I asked her to come for the Tata Steel Adventure Foundation (TSAF) outdoor leadership program. We tried to create a motivating, positive and supportive atmosphere for her. It didn’t happen overnight. In the beginning, the team held her hand and took her up and jewelry findings. Later we trained her with load, increasing it gradually. Then we taught her to walk on ice and finally took her to 13,000 feet to test her physiology on high altitudes. It took one year for her to prepare.
The journey wasn’t easy, but she converts every problem into an opportunity. If she found something difficult, she would want to do it again. Looking at her zeal and courage, we presented her details to our MD and sponsored her Everest climb. I also told the MD of the company we had tied up with in Khatmandu that he should not show her pity, but understand what she is made of and support her. She dragged herself physically, but did it.
Mom never lets people know of her worries. We grew up in a very protective environment. Only when I was around 10 years old, did it register that things were amiss. I learnt of my fathers’ addictions even later, around age 16. My sister and I didn’t see the rough side, but when you’re living at your maternal grandmother’s house, and your dad’s fine through the day (he used to drop us to school every morning), but you’re kept away from him in the evening, you know something is wrong.
Mom’s focus was on fending for the family and ensuring that we move up in life. Her day started at 4 am, so in a lot of ways our grandma mothered us. Mom started a business with jams and crystal beads wholesale. Later she put up a small kiosk selling tea, coffee and snacks at a marina in Chennai. Then came the first major turning point for her — getting a contract from the National Institute of Port Management. She had to be there full time, because footfalls ranged from hundreds to thousands.
Every day we saw her getting tougher and tougher. Realizing the kind of ordeal mom was going through for us, our bond with her grew very strong. Today, when I’ve joined the business and deal with skilled labour, I often ask her, ‘How did you handle these people?’ I guess her strength lies in her straightforwardness; she’ll tell you things to your face if she thinks something’s wrong. At the same time, she easily senses if you’re not fine and will act on it.
I was always interested in the food industry, but knowing the kind of struggle it requires, she didn’t want me to pursue it. Moreover, inspired by travel tales of the navy officers I met, I joined the navy, and worked for a Norwegian company. During the time I was away, my sister and she grew very close. She wouldn’t tell me she missed me, but managed to find a way to reach me even on the ship. I was the only person aboard to get a call every week. When my sister and her husband expired due to an accident, soon after their wedding, mom went completely out of line. She stopped going out for three to four years. It was difficult to see her that way, and watch twenty years of her hard work go unattended, so I decided to take it up. When I made mistakes, she advised and corrected me but didn’t resume work.
FICCI came to us at this point of time; the award was a complete game changer. A regular person just works to make a living, not to get media limelight, but the award made mom recognize her own achievement. Colleges invited her to speak on entrepreneurship. Seeing that so many people looked up to her, she realized she that shouldn't get bogged down. She became active again. Now, she doesn’t micro manage because she wants me to grow, but advices me and monitors things from time to time.
But Suzy fought every odd that life threw at her. People who stayed around her before the accident were now out of sight. Suzy didn’t lose hope. She focused on ‘what next.’ Confidence and optimism led her to the path of becoming one of the most successful stock traders in the Asian market, in 2005. Today, Suzy runs a very successful celebrity talk show, conducts motivational lectures for NASA scientists, is a TED speaker and runs an NGO (Shraddha) for spinally injured children. She has adopted two children whose parents died of spinal injury. Coming from a middle-class background, she may not have the luxuries of life but she has peace of mind.
'Is baar beta paida karna, sab theek hoga (this time, make sure you give birth to a son then everything will be sorted)’ is what my mother-in-law said when she first, heard I was pregnant with Pooja. God had already blessed me with a daughter so my family didn’t want a girl child again. When Pooja was born in 1985, no one visited us, in the hospital, for three days. I didn’t have a change of clothes for Pooja or for myself. Finally, on the tenth day, my husband came to take us home. But, clearly, we were not welcome. He would often tell me to get rid of Pooja; send her to an orphanage. I had to choose between my husband and Pooja. I chose my daughter. ‘This girl will make me proud,’ is what I told my husband while parting ways.
With Rs.82 in my pocket, I began a new life in Mumbai with Shubhra and Pooja. I would cook some food, leave two glasses of milk and lock them up at home before stepping out to office. In the need to give the best to my daughters I decided to leave them back in Mumbai with my mother and move to a better-paying job, in Goa. Often, Pooja would call, cry over the phone and ask me to come back to Mumbai. When I moved back to India after 4-5 years, I was happy to see Pooja grown up into a strong-minded and independent girl. I remember, in school, when her friends would ask about her father, she would simply say, ‘he’s away on the ship.’ Pooja has never questioned me about her father. She would share her feelings, her insecurities with Shubhra, who was an anchor to her.
Read the full products at http://www.bestjewelrybeads.com/!
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