Everyone of teen titans was fighting the evil, but yet very respectful old blonde enemy called The Peroxide Blonde, who said: "jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way", in a high pitched and powerfull voice, but big fat Alice, which was the greatest superhero of them all, was beginning to shake her milkshake to gain street credit to obtain the blue diamond's powers. I could feel the power increasing jumping on the trampolin next to her.

"Did you know him?" one of the men asked, more out of naked curiosity than of an actual interest in the emotional relations of a whore.

The bartender didn't answer him even though Tom asked very directly with a potent tone. He just looked absent-minded over our heads and spitted, "What's yours?" to a tall stranger who'd come in. "Rye," the funny looking tall fellow said. The bartender scooped the bottle and glass over the bar counter, and poured a glass of ice cold water.

"I'm ninety-six and he's sixty-nine," Tommy said in a joking tone.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!", the big whore were almost shaking of laughter. "She has a really pretty voice" I thought to myself. The other whores sat with blank stares and didn't seem find Tommy's joke funny at all.

"It's a lie", the peroxide blonde repeated, refusing to let Alice get away with accusing her of such a thing. She was proud of what she had said.

"It's true" said Alice in her nice voice which was the only thing nice about her. "And it doesn't make any difference to me whether you believe it or not because it's my belief and that is individual." She wasn't crying anymore because she just realized this herself while saying it out loud. She was calm because she had found comfort in the truth of her own words.

Tom was rude, and said: "The other way from you", in an arrogant voice. He walked away without looking back, annoyed with everyone at the station.

"You can interfere with this one," said the man and turned his eyes towards the cook. "He likes it," he said, obviously indicating that the cook was sexually disoriented.

Do anchovy and egg sandwiches smell as bad as we may think they do? Also, is the author serious?

The one thing you will remember from this course when you are 95 years old.

yes annotate.

These clothes often are stereotypes of urban bodies for black youth. In contrast, I would say that the opposite response of polo shirts, bow ties, and conforming attire that many black boys wear in an effort to fit in with the dominant culture--through assimilation--is also a form of fear.

Is the answer undefined because respect for our common humanity has no specific path? Each person must find his or her own terms of connection with every individual since we combat tendencies in varied ways when we encounter our differences.

Perhaps, when we struggle to define difference as either weakness or strength, we open the door for the challenge of racism and other social inequities. Perhaps difference, when counted as a necessary glue--a common bond--to elevate humans to being more collectively than who we are individually, is what we grapple with because we see it as isolating when we should see it as our hope for attaining our greatest human character once we see difference as a function of our collective wealth--our interdependence on each other--rather than our independence to stand in contrast to one another.

legacy = heritage = systemic inequity = cloaked hoods reminiscent of the hoods worn by KKK and their ideological superiority

I am hesitant to place this broad sense of authority on the police department. I do not think it is a department; instead, I believe it to be people cloaked in masks of justice Some believe in a false image of of others based on color: they see color and not a person, an image and not a heart, a stereotype and not a son or a daughter.

When the person in uniform starts seeing problems and not people, they take on the systemic, divisive heritage of inequity that manifests itself in racists, sexists, social hierarchies that destroy the humanity in all of us.

If a people's wealth, being, or privilege is based on standing on the backs of others, the struggle or jeopardy of the situation is that they are living on uncertain time--a time that will disappear once those who are on their backs eventually stand straight. For those who stand on the backs of others, they have not known true work for what they have attained since they have not earned what they have by their own efforts--at least not on the basis of their own grit and determination that emerged from their personal character of inner strength and resilience. They must live lives continually wondering when the dream will end, when the property will be returned to those who have rightfully fought for what is in the hands of a usurping group.

A usurped dream is a delusion, a farce, a hoax, that survives on borrowed time, terms, and values. For those who benefit from its ongoing perpetuation, the dream is more of a pending nightmare.

Yes

A powerful lesson .. a truth in America ... and a gift from a father to a son that all that comes before leads to ...

I saw this reference in a review of the book ... amazing to think about ...

A great lesson ...

How did we all get hooked into that show and its underlying narrative?

What? Is that true? or perception of the past?

Interesting ... and this is what we show and explain in school today, too, right? Peaceful protest ...

This seems to be the center of this whole piece, in my opinion.

This was the reality of despair. Or is the reality of despair. How do we fix this? How?

I don't agree. Maybe not uniquely. But evil, nonetheless.

Man. Powerful moment. I can see him. I can see his son. I see the shadows of history. And even in the sadness, I see something .. a glimmer. Perhaps, as a father, I am projecting. So be it. This is one of those moments, the lesson that will linger.

This phrase makes the political so personal, as he intends. It really hits the heartstrings .. and I feel like I am intruding here, don't you? As if I shouldn't be reading this talk between father and son ... as if annotating in the margins is infringing on that bond that the writing is creating. Or is that me?

This is a sad commentary on our times, when such an articulate man either can't find the words, or has the words but know they won't matter. Or something else I am not privy to.

Hard not to relate this piece to another great statement of African American experience: Frederick Douglass's 1841 speech “What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?”

I'm just trying to imagine how it might make Coates son squirm to have his dad talk to him about his body. I guess I'm squirming a bit too. I'm expecting to hear about racism, but here I'm being asked to think about a body.

The Subcellular Anatomy Ontology has now been subsumed into the Gene Ontology Cell Component ontology. Roncaglia et al. 2013

These relationships were not subsumed by GO Cell Component.

Not sure that this statement is correct, that is, does ontology require the use of first-order logic.

"tend"? I wonder why I used such a weak word here. We do not have any experimental methodology that reveals a complete picture of nervous system organization.