There are lots of ideas about this from both science and religious viewpoints. Religion is of course bound to one particular bias, and has to see a maker in everything. The big bang points to a creator, the fact that conditions are just right for life to exist here on earth points to some entity that did the fine tuning, and many other such things are used as evidence for god. Science on the other hand has nothing to prove and works through falsification.

The solar system is just right for life, erm one small cornet of it

Unfortunately, why everything is fine tuned for life is a bit of an unanswerable question right now. To answer it then we would need more insight into the Theory of Everything (ToE) and some idea of the equations that lay behind the creation of the universe. Then we would have a good idea as to how the initial state of the universe would determine the current state of the universe. If we know that then we would also be able to do far more to determine the amount of leway there is in the constants that make up our universe’s equations.

That’s not to say we haven’t already done some of the work. We do have all the constants to play with. There are many experiments being done every day and a lot of evidence to suggest that certain constants have very wide windows. Take for example the goldilocks zone around the sun, this is similar to the goldilocks enigma in that there is a habitable region around the sun, and we by luck (or not) just happen to be in it. Citied by the religious as a good rationale for the existance of god, what’s overlooked or deliberately not mentioned is that the goldilocks zone stretches from the inner orbit of venus to well beyond the orbit of Mars. Hardly miraculous we’re in it. Similarly there’s good reason to believe many of the constants that make up our universe have similarly broad ranges, some of which can be done away with completely and the whole thing still works. Since we know the constants we can play around with them and create models, then run these models on computer to see how they go. It’s a good way of discovering what’s possible. Every day it tells us more about the issues at play.

So the science is doing its thing, philosophically we can still contemplate the significance to us. Do we take the religious view that the universe being just right for life is sure sign of a designer, e.g. god? Unfortuantely there’s a flaw in this, and it’s that there’s such a small smidgeon of the universe is actually habitable. In the order of 99.9 percent of it is totally hostile to life, and so this doesn’t look like something that a designer is going to design. How many buidings do men create that are 99.9% concrete and .1% office space? The religious say that the universe is just right for life therefore designed, but that makes a mockery out of their designer, really. There’s another thing. Since people are still getting philosophical about this question. It occured to me that one of philosophy’s most famous answers, already answered it. Cogito Ergo Sum – “I think therefore I am” which Descartes came up with when he was wondering what was the extent of what was knowable. He decided that everything else could be an illusion and if it was we had know way to know it wasn’t an illusion. But the one thing we can truly be sure of is that we exist, and that is because we exist to ask the question “do we exist?” and by existing to ask that question we have proven to ourselves we definitely do exist. But all else may be an illusion, and we would never know it, so the extent of our knowledge is limited to this.

Applying this to the universe, the fact that we exist is tantalising, tempting, and those who wish it – they might find it points to all sorts of things. Hope is a terrible temptress, leaving smoke and illusions. The fact that we happen to exist here, and now, only proves one thing, it proves that we exist here and now, no more, no less. We can say we exist in the universe because we are here to think about the fact that we exist in the universe, but all else is stretching it. We just have to accept that we won’t know more until the phsyics gets better. And I guess I won’t know much more than this until I read the book. And given how interesting this all is, I’m definitely looking forward to it!

Tempest Roams in the Pathless Sky by Graeme S. Houston

OUT NOW

‘Tempest Roams in the Pathless Sky’ is a science-fiction novel by author Graeme S. Houston.

Set thousands of years in the future, it is an explosive mix of action, environmental science, speculation, and intrigue.

In the midst of environmental catastrophy, human civilisation continues, but is a shadow of its former self. All humanity has left are stories of the past and a myriad of strange relics that linger on from the age of technology. Long ago, they say, global warming led to thousands of tons of fresh water being pumped into the oceans, (glacial melting and fresh water off continents) disturbing the salinity and as a result disrupting their natural currents (which exchange heat from the equator to the north and south). This led to increased cooling of the north and south hemispheres. By a subtle twist of irony, global warming led not to death by fire, but by ice. As more ice gathered at the poles, huge glaciers advanced forward, crusshing the great cities beneath them. All humanity could do was retreat. Billions of souls died in the displacement wars.

Follow the story of Aadesh, an orphan who is sent by the priests of Old Kuala Lum, on a journey to deliver a message to New London. Captain Philip Daemidrien, is chartered to take the boy by airship, but everything goes wrong right from the onset. Attacked by mechanical creatures from a long dead past, the captain must use every ounce of cunning he has to outmaneuver the terrors. But not only does the captain harbor secrets of his own, Aadesh will find that he is in far more trouble than he ever could have imagined. His only hope may be Philip and a genetically enhanced assassin called Elizabeth. They find that even Earth is at stake, and ice is the least of their worries….

Click here to check out my book on Amazon.com

A sunset

Above, is a haunting picture of a sunset. Anyone with even the slightest ghost of humanity within them would be moved by the beauty of the haunting landscape above. Who would not be moved by our sun setting on such a scene? Was it taken in Nevada, or is it the artic tundra of Mongolia? Is it a desert wasteland of Africa, or somewhere much further south… and far more inhospitable?

Truth is, the image above is a Martian sunset. I offer it to you as a gift; a chance to glimpse the similarities between our worlds – our next door neighbours. You see, not so long ago, scientists believe that Mars was a fertile planet, with abundant oceans, and an abundant atmosphere, and all the elements that would make it a haven for life. Imagine thick rain-forests teaming with life, imagine oceans brimming with creatures. Speculation, perhaps. But we know that Mars was not unlike our visions of early earth; abundant water, abundant atmosphere, it may have been a garden of eden.

So what the hell happened? Mars is locked in ice. Its atmosphere has evaporated away, its oceans are locked in its polar icecaps, and its landscape is a barren desert of  iron oxide (rust). Mars is smaller, granted; giving it a dissadvantage in holding onto an atmosphere. It’s also further out than Earth, giving it an energy dissadvantage too. But perhaps, given the similarities, when we discuss planetary ecology we should start paying attention to the red planet.

It was once like Earth; hot, covered in liquid water, and subject to the ideal conditions for life. We know that Mars transitioned from a planet with a thick atmosphere and liquid water, to a barren wasteland of rust and permafrost, ice at the poles, and an ever thinning atmosphere.

All we know of planetary ecology is from the examples set by our twin planets. And the examples set by our twin planets, all demonstate that it’s very easy for a corner of the universe to become inhospitable. The way we treat our own planet demonstrates, we have not taken in this lesson at all.

That is why it infuriates me when I hear about renewable energy sources being opposed by selfish, arrogant, shortsighted, bastards. No, I do not mince my words. I’m not going to point to anyone in particular, because you all know who you are. I’ve seen it many times. Usually, when a new renewable energy site is proposed, the installation of turbines (on shore, or offshore) will be blocked by some piddling group of local representatives who claim that their landscape will be blighted by the sight of these monstrosities.

Damn! If ever there were a group of more selfish people on the planet, they must have packed up and jetted off a hundred thousand years before. The “Not in my back-yard crowd” are the scum of the earth. These fuck-wits, will be seen  banging on about conservation and the environment, but as soon as someone proposes a windfarm or other renewable source anywhere near them they suddenly start spouting all sorts of nonsense about birds getting diced and sliced by the blades. Bullshit, this is a throwback to our human/draconian way of thinking that anything that isn’t a man, is doomed to get chopped up in our fantastical devices. Truth is most birds are smarter than we humans think they are, and learn to avoid wind farms. Even, if all else fails, we also have also developed technologies ward off any poor birds who might stray a bit close. What then is the problem? The problem is birds are being used as a shield against the core of the problem. The core of the problem is that selfish bastards are upset because their view has a windmill on it. But we’ll get to that.

The main excuse is that these windfarms harm local, birds. So the RSPB say so. This is the same RSPB that order the slaughter of one bird species to protect another bird species, making them the Hitler of animal protection societies. Personally I don’t give a shit about anything the RSPB say. As soon as I heard about them demanding the genocide of alien species of birds for the protection of native species of birds I was done with them. I washed my hands of them. They are either protecting birds or they aren’t. If they are calling out for bird genocide, then they aren’t. What gives them the right to decide which species of birds should be wiped out? It was us who brought the foreign birds here in the first place. We cannot make innocent birds pay for our own sins. The RSPB, has lost the plot. So fuck them.

Back to wind farms, and again, citing RSPB bullshit doesn’t cut it. The clowns who are in the “Not in my back yard” category need to look very closely at that haunting martian sunset. Our planet is not special. We are not special. We are just here, and we are just living in the now. We just happen to be in a particularly forgiving corner of the universe. What matters most is what we gift our children. What matters most is the heritage we gift our decendents. Will we suck the planet dry, and leave them with a dark husk? Will we pollute the planet until all the ice-caps melt, and plunge the planet into snow-ball earth? Will we switch from oil to water, then piss away the most precious substance in the universe? (liquid water).

These are all far-reaching questions, but I do know one thing… in a hundred years from now, once we have developed a good, reliable, sustainable energy source such as cold fusion – we can still dismantle wind-farms, and our grand children are left with the same views as we had the pleasure of observing. But if we oppose wind farms, then we are pushing towards global climate change. Who will care, when that same view is going to be covered in a thousand tons of ice, as glaciers rip it apart in their relentless push south? One dick-head’s view today, is balanced agaisnt the quality of our children’s and our grand-children’s lives. And as far as I am concerned, those who stand against renewable energy, are short-sighted wankers. They do not look to the lessons we have learned from our twin planets, they do not think about Mars, they do not think about our children. They are all ‘mee’ ‘mee’ ‘mee’ ‘my view’ ‘view’ ‘view’. They are only interested in their own interests.

We are the first  generation to be burdened with hard choices about energy usage, and climate change. Don’t make us the last. Don’t be a dickhead.

I discovered it when I was in Malaysia and using linux. Magnatunes came as the default store for Amarok music player, which I still consider to be the greatest music player on the planet. I miss it deeply,  especially since I don’t currently have any active linux boxes. I  implore you to try a KDE flavor of linux once in your life just to get a shot of Amarok, it’s awesome. Look for it in netbooks too.

Music is a thing that helps the wheels of industry turn when a writer is banging out new copy. some of the great artists that have been added to my soundscape recently through magnatune and similar sites – include, Falik, Solace & Mars Lasar.

Due October 2009!

Quick update regards Tempest Roams in the Pathless Sky, due for release in October from Eternal Press.

Just finished round one edits. So Tempest is another step closer to publication. I will be looking forward to its release in October, whereupon there will be much drinking and partying. My editor, Foery, has done a great job on the manuscript and it’s looking great now. I’m really delighted with it.

Thanks Foery!

She writes great Historical Romances set in Scotland, so vist her website at: http://www.moongypsy.com and buy her books. Then come back in October and buy mine! hehe And if you need something to read in between click here. (lol, that was a shameless plug).

To celebrate being a wee bit closer to launch, I thought I’d post another small excerpt this time following Aadesh. Remember to watch this space for more information about Tempest, as I will be posting bits here and there up until it’s released.

EXCEPT FROM SOMEWHERE IN CHAPTER THREE
(Yes… love obtuse but accurate subheadings…)

He found his cabin below and discovered a note from Philip. He unfolded it carefully and read the clear, almost perfect writing. It told him that everything in the room was for him, and he could keep them. Clothes mainly, though they also left him a dagger. “All on board must carry a dagger in case of emergency,” the note explained. He picked up the dagger in its sheath and put it on his belt. Next he looked at the expedition bag they left for him. Inside were various things such as soap, a comb, a toothbrush, a map and a little wooden compass among other bits and bobs. It also told him that all the books in the room were his. Philip had carefully picked them for him.

Aadesh liked the room, and the fabric hangings on the walls made it rather cozy. It was very small of course,  but every room in the ship was small, even the captain’s office. Indeed smaller, since it was packed with so many books.

He thumbed through a couple of the books the captain had left for him, found one to be by an ancient called Homer, while the other was by a man called Orwell. After several minutes of indecisiveness, he finally opted for Orwell, because the title 1984 suggested to him it was older than the other one. 1984, having such a small number for a date had to be from the dawn of time, right?

Happily, he took of his boots and clambered onto the bunk and read the first chapter of the book. A sense of intrigue drew him in and made his heart pound in his chest and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The thought of big brother watching everything you do!

He drifted off to sleep with a book on his chest, curled up on the bunk.

]]> http://graeme-s-houston.com/my-novels/tempest-update/feed/ 2 http://graeme-s-houston.com/brian-l-porter/yay-another-award-kiss-of-life/ http://graeme-s-houston.com/brian-l-porter/yay-another-award-kiss-of-life/#comments Mon, 17 Aug 2009 16:44:14 +0000 GSHouston http://graeme-s-houston.com/?p=143

Won the New Covey Cover award for Most Eye-Catching Cover

I got held up posting the previous one from last month so they kind of colided, hence two award posts in a row. But I won the ‘New Covey Cover Award for ‘Most Eye-Catching Cover’, for my cover design for ‘Kiss of Life’. Thanks go to  Philip Burne-Jones, (1897) for the source material. I am a composite imager so I work with whatever I can get my hands on. When Brian pointed me in the direction of that image I knew we were on to something. The finished thing does look pretty stunning. Even Brian, who is used to me performing small graphical miracles on a regular basis, praised it. Please check out the new covey cover awards and vote for your favourite covers every month – click here. You should also head on over to Mythica Publishing, and check out Brian’s upcoming releases because the contents are as good as the cover, if not better.

Most artistic cover award

I got held up posting this so it’s going to run into and colide with another award I won a month afterwards, so this post will be briefer than usual, because I’m going to be saying something very similar in the next post. But I won the ‘New Covey Cover Award for Most Artistic Cover’, for my cover design for ‘Of Aztecs and Conquistadors’. Thanks go to Frenta, Bram Janssens, Michel Mota Da Cruz, for the stock imagery that went into the design, and of course, thanks to the agency and source of great material, dreamstime. Please check out the new covey cover awards and vote for your favourite covers every month – click here. You should also head on over to Mythica Publishing, and check out Juan’s poetry because it is really awesome.

Vista is like this

My four year old laptop finally packed in around March, forcing me to invest in a new computer. I had intended to wait for Windows 7 but unfortunately fate decided to intervene. However, I took a little solace from knowing that Windows 7 was just around the corner. I figured I could bear Vista long enough to hold out until 2010, by which time Windows 7′s teething troubles should be worked out, and I should be flush enough to buy a really good system. Well it’s been 3 months and 7 days since I bought this Vista laptop and it’s slowed to a crawl. Even when I have nothing running the OS is sluggish and unresponsive. So I’m going to backup/format/reinstall, and get back to a clean system. I could get XP to last 2 years between reinstalls, and it would stay fast and responsive for me. I keep right control over what programs run at startup, and I’m particularly fussy about what runs on my machine, so I’m having a hard time working out where the slowdown is coming from. I’m guessing it’s just a simple case of Vista is shit. Plain and simple. Microsoft bragged that their operating system took as much effort to create as it did to put man on the moon. Well, at least the people who put a man on the moon have something to show for it. In fact the people who put a man on the moon have pushed humanity into a new paradigm. Humans as a species have now walked on two worlds, we are no longer a race bound to one tiny spec in the cosmos, but we have taken our first baby steps into the vast infinity of our beautiful universe. Microsoft, took all that effort and wasted it on an Operating System that grinds to a halt after 3 months of normal use. Windows Vista, is the greatest triumph, in the history of engineering disasters. It is a marvel of wasted effort. It was named Vista to inspire thoughts of views and landscapes, and the vast possibilities of the technological lanscape but in the reality is very different. Vista starts off like a beautiful cottage with large windows opening up to stunning vistas of pristine scenery – and as you use it the windows are slowly bricked up until at last it has become a thing of concrete.

'Tempest Roams in the Pathless Sky' a Sci-Fi novel by Graeme S. Houston, due October.

COMING OCTOBER 2009

‘Tempest Roams in the Pathless Sky’ is a science-fiction novel by Graeme S. Houston, due for publication in October by Eternal Press.

Set thousands of years in the future, it is an explosive mix of action, environmental science, speculation, and intrigue.

In the midst of environmental catastrophy, human civilisation continues, but is a shadow of its former self. All humanity has left are stories of the past and a myriad of strange relics that linger on from the age of technology. Long ago, they say, global warming led to thousands of tons of fresh water being pumped into the oceans, (glacial melting and fresh water off continents) disturbing the salinity and as a result disrupting their natural currents (which exchange heat from the equator to the north and south). This led to increased cooling of the north and south hemispheres. By a subtle twist of irony, global warming led not to death by fire, but by ice. As more ice gathered at the poles, huge glaciers advanced forward, crusshing the great cities beneath them. All humanity could do was retreat. Billions of souls died in the displacement wars.

Follow the story of Aadesh, an orphan who is sent by the priests of Old Kuala Lum, on a journey to deliver a message to New London. Captain Philip Daemidrien, is chartered to take the boy by airship, but everything goes wrong right from the onset. Attacked by mechanical creatures from a long dead past, the captain must use every ounce of cunning he has to outmaneuver the terrors. But not only does the captain harbor secrets of his own, Aadesh will find that he is in far more trouble than he ever could have imagined. His only hope may be Philip and a genetically enhanced assassin called Elizabeth. They find that even Earth is at stake, and ice is the least of their worries….

EXCERPT

With a flash of sunlight upon steel, a monster swooped upon her. The branch shuddered as its steel claws folded around the bark, and the branch bowed under the weight of it. She threw herself onto her feet, ready to defend herself, and found herself at a complete loss for any action that might be effective against it. Against such a thing as stood before her… something that drew a blank from the encyclopedic chambers of her mind, a silver monster dredged up from someone’s personal hell, maybe even from her own version of it.

She let out a painful short gasp at the massive steel swords it unfolded into its hands and stood almost frozen to the spot, contemplating it as it contemplated her. The scales upon its chest reflected in its many facets, the fear she betrayed on her face and in her eyes.

Lithe and quick, a single pull of her calves sprung her by her toes into the air as the blades swung to meet. She heard the thud as they embedded themselves into the trunk of the tree and in desperation she grasped at the branch above her. Deftly she pulled herself up and around, onto the branch and sprung along its length. She heard the grinding of metal as it pulled the blades out and turned to follow. She glanced back at it, and it was the pure, shining metal of the blades, caught in the light of the morning, that wrenched at her heart causing it to beat painfully against her chest.

The metal thing behind her was unscratched, not battered like the rest of the junk the ancients had left. Not worn out like the dwindling weaponry kings fought for. This shone as if it had had just been built, or as if someone had lovingly restored to what it once was.

New.

So damn new…

The wind flicked her night-black hair as she bounded across from branch to branch, through the canopy, and she could hear it pursuing, the metallic grinding of its joints, the rasping of its breath.

E-BOOK ISBN: 978-1-926704- 66-1
POD ISBN: 978-1-926704- 74-6

PUBLISHER: Eternal Press
DUE: October, 2009

Isle of the Dead, the best known paintings by Swiss Symbolist artist Arnold Böcklin (1827-1901). A nice illustration of our search for meaning, I thought.

I happened to be in and around the vicinity of a few online fringe writer’s groups and had the opportunity to see what was being written. I was appalled. Sturgeon’s Law of course applies (90% of everything is crap), but even bearing that in mind, I could not find that better 10% anywhere. I set about in amongst the work in progress section to find a piece I could offer feedback for. I wanted to find something good, something that I could genuinely praise. After going through everything everyone had ever posted, I gave up.

Some might say at this point that I don’t “get” contemporary art, but nothing could be further from the truth. The problem is I have a very good grasp of “modern” and “postmodern” art and influences. I’m very comfortable in and around the “avant-garde”. The problem is, especially in the world of writing, I can see the smoke, the mirrors, and the slight of hand.

I was particularly amused by something a good friend of mine wrote on the subject, especially since it’s so close to my own sentiments. Because I can’t link to it, easily, she has given her permission for me to quote the whole thing. And yes, I borrowed her title.

The Emperor’s New Prose

Jessica De’Eath

02/07/2009

There’s a fine line between being avant-garde, and being lazy. There’s a difference between being purposefully vague and con-artistry. Anyone can create a piece of contemporary art. There are nearly 7 billion people creating contemporary art every day of their lives. Humans are pattern recognition engines, we spot the patterns, sometimes we call it art. Indeed, human agency isn’t even required in the creation of art at all. Only at the viewing end. If I was to stack up a pile of wood on a beach, people would walk past it and give it no more thought. But do the same in an art gallery and people would start to try and understand its significance. This significance is of course contrived. Indeed, the avant-garde is about testing the limits of art, and the limits of humanity. That is fair enough.

But when the profound and the profane sit side by side, how do we tell them apart? Truth is the only way to tell them apart is to take a good long hard look at the creator.

If Umberto Eco, writer of the most beautiful and philosophical novels, was to one day produce something that fell into the category of the avant-garde, then would suspect that he might be onto something. He has already proven his skill as a writer, he is free to experiment, and he would be beyond criticism. I would be willing to guess, he was taking a damn good crack at profundity.

But the profane? This is where the con-artistry comes in. New writers who have no skill have discovered that they can hide behind the opaque walls of the avant-garde. When the onus of understanding and interpretation is on the reader, the writer is free from the need to have any skill at all. But I see your bluff, and I call you on it.

Her point absolutely spot on. Surely everyone is familiar with Picasso, but just in case, here is a link to one of his paintings.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Picasso_Portrait_of_Daniel-Henry_Kahnweiler_1910.jpg

Back in the days of Picasso he naturally got a lot of stick because of the nature of his work. One of the criticisms thrown at modern artists, was that it didn’t take any skill to produce the “crap” they were making. But of course this is nonsense. Picasso was also a talented artist in his own right. Follow the link and check out “portrait of Sylvette”

http://www.prints.co.nz/page/fine-art/PROD/1101

So it’s perfectly acceptable for someone who has demonstrable skill in a field to set about pushing at the boundaries of his or her ‘art’. They have won the right to do so. And the viewers, readers, critics, whoever at least have that guarentee they are not wasting their time completely.

But do not be fooled when talentless morons hide behind the boundaries of the avant-garde and postmodernism because they are too lazy to develop any real skill. It takes years of practice and hard work to become good in any discipline. There is no royal road to art.

Why should we go along with a bunch of fools who would like it to be the case? Anyone can pick up a keyboard and type out nonsense into a wordprocessor or onto a blog, into their my space page, out into the newsgroups. In fact the whole internet is full of the stuff. The problem is not finding content, but finding some content that isn’t vacuous.

Photo 'Orange Abstract' by Faeryboots. The abstract doesn't have to be contrived. Source 1.

When, as Jessica says, the onus of interpretation is on the reader, would the reader not be better served looking for meaning elsewhere? Once you reach a certain level of random noise, then the message is left in the writer’s head and all that is visible is a pattern that the onlooker’s mind must interpret. If all the reader is getting out of something is what meaning they themselves derive, then that same meaning could be derived elsewhere anyway. By conceling meaning, the writer has removed him/herself from being necessary. There are plenty patterns in the world to interpret, why waste your time interpreting an artificial one?

Photo 'Lake Manyara' by Cessna206. Taken from the air, it reveals nature to be a great modernist. Source 2.

I know given two random patterns, one contrived by an ass-hole and the other contrived by a series of unique events, I would be much more inclined to spend my time on the second. For a start its inception is more interesting. What geological forces created it? What chance happenings led to a poetic death? What strange phenomea led to the apparent face of the Virgin Mary appearing in someone’s toasted cheese? What could convince someone to pay 20,000 on ebay for said toasted cheese with bite out it. However in the case of some fool, simply brain-dumping garbage onto the internet, I am not inclined to wonder, because the culpret had the opportunity to tell us, and said nothing. He/she had the opportunity to say something, and remained silent. Someone might suggest, “well they did ‘say’ something”. True. They wrote, and did the great injustice of filling up a page that said no more than if the page had been left blank.

I’m sure we’ve all heard the story of the Emperor’s new clothes. The emperor hires two tailors (con-men) who promise him the finest suit of clothes. They promise him it will be made from the finest cloth. Indeed, they tell him, this special cloth is invisible to anyone who was either stupid or unfit for his position. When the emperor finally gets his suit, he is horrified to discover that he cannot see the (non-existent) cloth. So he pretends that he can for fear of appearing stupid. Indeed, none of his ministers speak up because they are afraid of letting it be known that they can’t see the clothes. Everyone goes along with it because everyone acts as if they can see the clothes, and those who cannot are left wondering if they are the only ones. The tailors dress the Emperor in mime. Then he goes naked on a procession through the capital to show off his new clothes. In the middle of the procession, a small child speaks up, “But he has nothing on!” The crowd realize the truth of the child’s words. The Emperor, carries on.

Like the story of the Emperor’s new clothes, we must beware of the same fallacy in art, and in writing especially.

…

Image Sources

Source1 http://www.flickr.com/photos/faeryboots/3625535506/

Source2 http://www.flickr.com/photos/7519597@N05/3055946034/

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