Flashing Fishes

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , on August 3, 2012 by javedbabar

The ground became marshy. The man from the mountain realized that he couldn’t continue on the horse on this side of the river, he would have to cross to the other side. But how could he do that? The river was too rough, too fast, too wide, its black water flashing silver.

He saw a shimmer ahead, or was it something solid within the shifting haze? As he drew nearer he saw that it was a wooden bridge. He welcomed this stroke of good luck that would ease his passage. He had awoken, unknown and alone, upon the white mountain at the head of this valley, knowing nothing about why and where and how, only compelled to reach the dark mountain guarding the valley’s beginning.

The bridge however was in poor condition. It was a small suspension bridge with rusty cables and steel mesh bearing brittle wooden slats, a third of which were missing. He wanted to get across, and he wanted to keep the horse, so he decided to risk it. Seeing the scanty provision for traversing it, the horse pulled back from the water roaring beneath.

“Come on boy,” said the man from the mountain. “You can do it.” He edged the horse forward. “Come on boy, easy… careful.” The horse resisted at first, but eventually picked his way forward. His left rear leg broke through a slat, but he quickly compensated for this and continued to the other side. There was a patch of clover between the rushes, a reward for his diligence, which he tore at with eagerness.

Though the black water was flashing silver, there was also something else there, and the man looked deeply into its discord. An elliptical shape moved steadily upstream. It stopped and started, its path wavering but always progressing. The horse too noticed the shape, and came to the edge of the river.

A moment later something dazzled and burst out of the water. It came towards the horse, which reared back and snorted. The man from the mountain laughed. It was a coho salmon, sensing a threat, defending its liquid territory. It twisted, mid-air and splashed back into the water to continue its voyage home.

Which oceans had it crossed to get here, he wondered, and how much further would it go? He too was on a journey – from mountain to mountain – but where was he going? Was it home?

The man from the mountain came to an oxbow lake beside the river. It seemed a lost loop of life. Within it were pink-golden flashes with hints of orange and green, most probably trout. Their skins shone like soft rainbows. They were living gently, swimming in peace. They had an easier life than the salmon. But was theirs a better life?

2 Comments »

Dark Horse

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , on August 2, 2012 by javedbabar

The bush is getting rougher. It snags my clothes and grazes skin. That’s the problem with second growth forest, none of the majesty but double the trouble. I go higher up the hillside but it gets no better. If anything, the tangles are tighter and thorns sharper. It may be better to slip down the hillside a little more. The crowd is off my tail now. It feels safer.

How or why I was on the white mountain, I don’t know, but I was clearly not welcome in the village; the followers of the hate-preacher chased me out. The only thing that feels right, that compels me, is to head towards the dark mountain at the far end of the valley. I feel it holds answers.

I see fields at the edge of the forest. They are easy to reach and deserted, not abandoned though for they are well tended, with only hints of erosion, overgrazing and chemical damage. Much better than ravaged lands I’ve seen in other places.

A small group of humans is working far away, near out buildings and old machinery. Newer, shiny stuff lies abandoned elsewhere. Such things are impossible to fix yourself, and there is no one around to fix them for you these days. After the shock appearance of living machines, and the brief war leading to their destruction, nobody dares to work with electronics. People stick to greasy motors whose chains and wheels you can see and understand. Not atoms and electrons. Nothing you need to imagine.

The nearest field is filled with dairy cows. Black and brown and white fat beasts. I feel suddenly hungry and would love to take a big bite out of one’s rump. Imagine its bloody juices dripping. But that is sure to attract attention, and maybe I should wait till I find beef cattle; it somehow doesn’t feel right, biting a milk cow. I manage to fix ones gaze. I walk right up to it and pull its udders, and drink hot squirts of creamy fluid. It froths in my throat.

The next field holds horses. They come towards me, maybe hoping for apples. I apologize to them for coming empty handed. I say I will come again with a barrel full of apples. I fix a dark horse’s gaze, stand beside him, and then jump onto his back.

He feels unsettled but the link is established. He recognizes me as his friend and master and will allow me to ride him now.

I canter along the edge of the forest, maybe in view of the humans, but they can’t catch me from five hundred metres. I guess they can try to shoot me, but would they risk hitting the horse?

The horse rears up once, but settles into pace again. It heads towards the dark mountain whose power once formed this valley by eruption and flow. Now I flow towards it.

Leave a comment »

Don't You Come Round Here No More

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , on August 1, 2012 by javedbabar

The man from the mountain felt much better the next morning. A patron of the Lucerne Valley Hotel had given him a voucher for a free steak dinner, and the barmaid had offered him free beer. He knew the receptionist would have given him a free room if possible, but would have got in big trouble. The village was that kind of place.

The man from the mountain slept in a small park near the centre of town. Its young lawns were dotted with clumps of cedar, and there was a fountain and pavilion, in the corner of which he found a blue tarp. He brushed its dust off and laid it back down, then he lay upon it, pulling the slack over himself. A cement bag made a good pillow.

Something wasn’t right when he woke up. Before he’d opened his eyes he felt threatened. He knew better than to make quick moves though. That increased the threat. He rolled his arm slowly across his body, pulling the tarp across with it.

A group of people were gathered around. He noticed their legs initially, then vague balloon-faces. He couldn’t say how many there were but guessed twenty.

A high pitched voice said, “Look, it’s the Abomination.” There was muttering around him, saying, “It comes in many guises,” and “We must guard ourselves against it.” They were repeating the words of the preacher outside the Transparent Temple yesterday.

The man from the mountain sat up on the tarp, seemingly floating on a small blue lake. Fallen white blossoms were scattered around him.

The high-pitched voice, which he saw came from a young girl, said “Why are you here?”

There was no need to answer this brainwashed child, but he felt she deserved an answer that was different from the ones she repeated unknowingly; she was putty in the hands of her parents, who were putty in the hands of the hate preacher.

Still seated, he turned around to face her, and said, “I don’t know how or why I awoke on the White Mountain. Somehow I was brought there, or came there, without my knowledge or consent.” Twice the girl almost interrupted, but she had been brought up with good manners so held back.

He continued, “I was alone there, cold and hungry, so came down to this village. Kind people fed me last night, and then I slept here.”

The child repeated, “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll be gone in a day or two, towards that dark mountain.” He pointed to Mt Negra.

The crowd stepped back and gasped. A man of a similar age to the man from the mountain jumped forward, his wild eyes rolling. “No, begone!” he shouted. “You belong to the dark mountain. Like the others before you, begone!”

The crowd stepped forward, circling him more tightly. He had to act, and flung himself just to the left of the girl. He broke through the crowd and ran into the forest beyond the park. They chased him, shouting, “Begone!” and threw coins and stones, but he outpaced and wrong-tracked them. The man from the mountain knew he couldn’t rest now. He climbed and crawled through the forest towards the dark mountain.

Leave a comment »

Are You Staying Long?

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , on July 31, 2012 by javedbabar

I’m not sure what I’m doing here. I woke up on Mt Alba, cold and tired, and walked down through the forest, and across the marsh, into the valley, then followed the road past farms into town. There were beef cattle and dairy cows. I eyed the steers.

There was a holy gathering at the Transparent Temple, and one outside. The one inside seemed welcoming, but I didn’t want to disturb their rituals so kept going. The one outside was hostile, and I felt it was best to get away as quickly as possible.

Though I’ve warmed up by lying naked in the sunshine, my bones are still sore and my stomach gnawing. I’ll head for that prominent building; it looks like a hotel. Yes, the sign says Lucerne Valley Hotel. I would love to have a pot of tea and some hot dinner. Do I have any money though?

I check both trouser pockets and the ones in my shirt. Nada.

The guy at reception gives me a big smile, he seems friendly. Maybe we can work something out. He says, “Good evening, Sir. Welcome to our humble establishment. Would you like a room?”

“That would a fine thing, but right now I’m wanting some dinner. The problem is that I’ve just returned from a spell in the mountains and find myself without funds. Is there a way that I could work for my dinner?”

“That’s an unusual request, Sir. Let me check.”

The receptionist calls through to the kitchen. He says to me, “I’m sorry, Sir. The chef says that he could do with a hand tonight, but he isn’t allowed to take on casual staff, regardless of whether money exchanges hands. It is forbidden by The Authority.”

The door swings open and a stocky man walks through.

“Hey TJ,” he says to the receptionist. “How goes it tonight?”

“It’s been a busy day, Mr Shama. There are quite a few people from the holy gatherings staying here.”

“Is that what you’re here for?” Shama says to me. “Are you a follower of Guru Baba? Or maybe Ozwald Malchizedek?”

I say, “I’m sorry, I’m neither. I don’t know anything about them.”

“Are you okay, pal? You’re looking pale.”

I’m feeling dreadful but say, “I’m okay, thank you. Just a bit hungry and tired.”

“Well my friend, you should have yourself a hot dinner. They serve great food in the restaurant here. Wait a minute!” He finds his wallet and rummages through it. “Ah, here it is! I thought it was in there. The free meal voucher I won in the raffle. It’s still valid isn’t it, TJ?”

“It sure is, Mr Shama.”

Shama hands it to me. “I know what it’s like, pal. I’ve had tough times too. A good steak will get you through to the morrow.”

I thank him and head to the restaurant. I think I’ll have it medium-rare.

Leave a comment »

Welcome to Town

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , on July 30, 2012 by javedbabar

He stripped off entirely and lay on a rock in the sunshine. Ah, it felt so nourishing to be warmed by the source of all goodness, the giver of life on earth. Why people worshipped things other than the sun, he never knew. It’s really simple. The sun gives us light and heat; the sun’s gone and we’re gone, that’s it. Every other god could disappear tomorrow and you’d never know.

Dry and dressed, he headed out of the forest. He’d descended from Mt Alba’s summit into the valley, and his ultimate goal was the dark mountain at the its far end, with the pulsing red star above. How he’d got here, and why he was going there, he didn’t know. He just knew this was his journey.

A good gravel road led towards the village. Fields and farm buildings began to appear. He was stared at by cows, and greeted by goats; horses whinnied and ran along beside him. A metal sign said: “Lucerne Village, population 2,000. Authorized by The Authority.”

He remembered there had been a dispute with The Authority. Or maybe it wasn’t The Authority itself, more its local agents. It had to do with identity. They said that he was one thing, and he said that he was something else. That was the reason for the dispute, and the reason he had woken alone atop Mt Alba.

He must return to the village though. He was cold and hungry and had nowhere else to go. That was the cruellest thing about exile. You had no option but to return, whatever the consequences.

The man from the mountain saw the building known as the Transparent Temple. It sat at the heart of village life, acting as community centre, arts venue, and a place for holy gatherings, celebrations and feasts. There was a gathering there now. People sat around a man wearing saffron robes and turban, who rested with his eyes closed. Then he opened his eyes and looked upwards and smiled. The man from the mountain felt a rush of love for everything in the world. He was a good man, this… he remembered… Guru Baba.

Another gathering took place outside, led by a shaven headed man in loose white trousers and shirt. He turned to look at the man from the mountain, and pointed and said loudly, “This is what we must guard ourselves against. Look closely, for the Abomination comes in many guises. I, Ozwald Malchizedek, have been blessed with sharp eyes to see through them. I tell you, this is one of them!”

The crowd turned and stared. Some sneered and shouted, “Go away! Leave us alone! Lord save us!”

This seemed familiar to the man from the mountain. It had happened before. There was something about him that people feared. Though Guru Baba welcomed this difference, Ozwald Malchizedek rejected it.

Who has the right to do this? To hate the wonder of life, born of a pulsing red heart?

Leave a comment »

White Mountain

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , on July 29, 2012 by javedbabar

I don’t know how I got here, but here I am. There’s a great view in most directions – I can see forests, lakes, rivers and other mountains. This isn’t the highest peak around here, I can see others that are at least equal, and likely more. They contain different minerals though, for they are mainly grey-brown. The mountain upon which I stand rises alone, shining white.

At the far end of the valley is a sharp black mountain. It too stands apart as if an opposite and equal to this one. Though it is dawn, with darkness disappearing, above the black mountain shines a red star which seems to be pulsing, like a child’s heart beating. I am drawn to that star.

There’s no food or shelter on the summit of this mountain and it is rather cold. I don’t remember the night before, how and why I slept upon this bare peak. There is no reason to be here. The only thing to do is to begin my descent.

The Valley below repels me for some reason. Have I been there before? A quote from the Bible comes to mind, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me.”

Is there something to fear?

Who is with me?

It will take a full day to descend to the plain. There is snowy terrain initially; the footing is good but there are patches of ice that take careful negotiation, and some unexpected slides. Thankfully I don’t trigger an avalanche.

Lower down is bare rock; clean faces and loose stones. Brush begins appearing and then lone trees, and loose forests of fir and pine.

My descent is more rapid than expected, at least till I reach the bottom of the mountain. There is a marsh there with foul smelling swamp cabbage. I try to walk around it, but the marsh encircles the whole mountain, so I just wade through, grabbing at trees and bushes where possible.

Waist deep in water, I lose sight of the black mountain. I can no longer see my goal. I visualize its sharp peak with sub-peaks below and dark rock gullies. But is the mountain in my mind accurate? Is it the same as the real one, or am I now imagining something different, and likely to end up somewhere else?

Then I have the strangest thought. If I no longer see the dark mountain, does it still exist? We make assumptions but how do we know for sure? Maybe this world is one of awareness, created by our thoughts.

I haven’t been paying attention to where I’m going. I am lost, stuck in the marsh. I think of the pulsing red star, the child’s beating heart. Is it a call for help from someone?

My pounding man’s heart responds and I push through the mud.

2 Comments »

Hydrostatic

Posted in Alternative Energy, Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 28, 2012 by javedbabar

The new owners of the Lucerne Valley Hotel were forward thinking. They wanted to get ahead of the regulations and the competition, so embarked on a programme of sustainable renovation focussed on recycling and energy efficiency. Grants from The Authority made the project viable.

They began with structural adjustments. They removed non-load bearing walls and replaced them with expansive windows. Their passive solar strategy would allow more sunshine to enter the building, reducing both lighting and heating bills. Appropriately angled overhangs were constructed so the sun didn’t boil guests in summer.

They added extra insulation to retain both heat and cold, according to seasonal requirements, and sunk pipes filled with refrigerant into the ground to create a geothermal field. On the roof they added solar-electric panels, solar hot water tubes, and a small wind turbine. In the basement were a methane digester and wood pellet heater, plus stations to recharge the hotel’s electric cars. They were confident of a Class One Superior Energy Efficiency Rating (SEER).

The Energy Auditor had many good things to say about the Lucerne Valley Hotel. However, he said that he could only give them a Class Two SEER. Water – more than sun, wind, methane or wood – was the hot topic these days. The province sold most of its fresh water to America. What remained was a valuable commodity that must be preserved. The Energy Auditor’s report said, “Overall, a credible performance, but evidence of much water wastage. If this can be addressed within thirty (30) days, the establishment will receive a Class One SEER.”

The new owners were keen to gain this Class One rating. They planned to make it their Unique Selling Proposition (USP) at the heart of all marketing activity.  It would boost the current message of “Lucerne Valley Hotel. Your home is our home, that’s why we treat the earth right.”

TJ was asked to look into the matter. He wondered if it was possible to create a completely sealed environment where all water was recycled and reused. He looked at the logistical methodologies of Bedouins and astronauts, who seemed far apart but shared the same respect for water. To both it meant life or death, so they conserved and reused all fluids possible.

How would this translate to the hotel? He explored the categories of water running through hotel systems: blue (drinking), grey (washing), brown (soiled), green (nutrient-rich), light (ionized), and heavy (irradiated) waters. How best to combine them into a hydrostatic system?

The staff and guests added complexity. Each had different human/android proportions with particular humidity and hydration needs. Sealing water into a hotel super system may seem strange. People would feel rusty inside, which was a common psychological/technological condition. And too much focus on water wasn’t right. Humans were evolving into robots. Why make them devolve into fish?

Leave a comment »

Konia Phone

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 27, 2012 by javedbabar

It was a surprisingly peaceful morning and TJ was snoozing. This was the advantage of being twenty percent android – your meatware could sleep while your software remained alert. No one could accuse you of sleeping on the job. Sure you were resting, but at the same time you were ready for anything.

An unfamiliar girl approached the reception desk. She wasn’t one of the Lucerne Valley Hotel’s guests; her face would have rung a bell. With no introduction, she said, “Have you bought any phones today? Any Konia phones in pink covers?”

TJ shook his head, but she continued, “Mine was stolen from my handbag last night during a pub crawl. I’m going around all the hotel bars to see if bar staff saw anything, and hotel shops to ask receptionists if anyone’s been trying to sell one.”

TJ knew that Konia phones were very good. Handsets cost a thousand dollars each.

These Turkish phones had patented features allowing you to communicate more fully than you could with normal phones. Their WHIRL technology utilized full spectrum analysis; as well as relaying voice and physical features, it picked up non- audible frequencies and electrostatic charges, giving a more complete communication experience.

All hotels ran small courtesy shops to buy and sell their guests’ unwanted items. There were a few phones in the Lucerne Valley Hotel shop –– but nothing over a hundred dollars. If there had been a Konia phone there, he would have bought it himself.

TJ said, “What’s your name please? Marie? Okay, if the phone was stolen around here, they won’t sell it locally. They’ll send it elsewhere. Most likely they’ll package it with other stolen phones and send them to provinces with comms restrictions, where they’ll sell for double the normal price. It’s very unlikely that your phone is still in town.”

Marie was disappointed. She went away but returned in the afternoon, and then at night, saying, “I came just in case. I can’t sit at home with no phone, alone.”

Poor girl, thought TJ, I wonder if it was taken at the Lucerne Valley Hotel. He scanned last night’s CCTV. He saw Marie and her friends come and go from the hotel bar, with nothing seeming abnormal. But he also saw his colleague Juno behaving strangely, fiddling with something as she exited the changing rooms.

The next day she had a new Konia phone with pink cover. He said, “Nice phone, Juno, where did you get it?”

She said, “Never you mind,” but later admitted that she’d bought it off a girl who needed $100 to pay for drinks last night. It had already been unlocked and jailbroken, and the girl had downloaded its WHIRL software through her head plug. It was the software that had real value, rather than the phone, which was in truth much the same as others.

Juno kept the phone for a week but then “lost” it for insurance purposes, and to avoid being sued by the manufacturer for intellectual property theft. That was the problem with being part android. They could get inside your head and see what you’re up to.

5 Comments »

Servers

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , on July 26, 2012 by javedbabar

There was smoke in the hallway. TJ ran out from behind the reception desk to locate its source. Why had no smoke alarms been activated? Were their sensors faulty?

He saw that the smoke was coming from the machine room. He punched its door code and entered. Juno shuffled into a corner, not sure whether to act naturally or try to hide. She managed neither, and just looked scared and guilty.

“I was just checking some readings,” she said, with smoke rising from a red glow beside her foot. She had tried to extinguish her cigarette, but in haste missed it. “What are you doing here?”

He said, “Juno, you know that smoking is forbidden in the Lucerne Valley Hotel. You can do it outside if you want, but not inside, and never in the machine room. Are you crazy? What were you thinking? I will have to report this in my duty notes.”

Juno looked even guiltier, though less scared. She took a step forward and said to him defiantly, “Smoking is my choice; it gives me pleasure. Anyway, you come in here to drink. I’ve seen the microbrewery settings.”

TJ was taken aback. It was true, he sneaked in most nights, but how could she know that? She didn’t have any access codes, or at least she shouldn’t. Denial was worth a try though, so he said, “No I don’t. Don’t try to shift the blame. You’re the one smoking, not me.”

She took another step forward and said, “But I’m not the one drinking, am I? And it’s not just the microbrewery; you’ve also played around with the MoonshineTM machine.”

She’d also got him here. Twice a week he indulged himself, distilling drinks on the hotels’ multispirit machine – usually fine vodkas and botanical gins, but also rare whiskies, sometimes fifty years old. That’s why he didn’t mind graveyard shifts, sipping away the night.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s forget about the smoking. But don’t do it again, and especially not here. How did you manage anyway? No alarms went off.” She indicated a piece of duct tape across a sensor. He said, “Ahh,”” and then, “Come on, let’s go.”

She didn’t move, and said, “What are the codes to the servers?”

He said he couldn’t tell her.

“Why not? You better!”

“Look, I can’t tell you. I’d get into a big heap of trouble.”

She raised her eyebrows and said, “Not as much as you would for drinking on the job. The mixing dates will show up on the MoonshineTM machine. There’s no records of my smoking though. I win.”

He gave her the codes. He wasn’t the only one who had them, and could say that it was someone else.  Juno logged in and explored staff profiles, starting with their android mix.

“You liar TJ! You said you were thirty percent android. You’re only twenty!” She examined management salaries. “What? You earn ten grand more than me? What for?” Then she looked up guest records – who had enjoyed what in the holographic rooms. “That Mr Jewell! That’s disgusting! A man of his age!” She studied the robo-chef menus. “What kind of food do you like? Japanese? Sushi? Okay, let’s break all the rules! I’m choosing forbidden foods. We’re having whale blubber starter, dolphin main, and jellyfish dessert.”

TJ said that he didn’t feel hungry. She said, “Come on; let your human side live a little!”

1 Comment »

Managed Transition

Posted in Classic Sci-Fi, Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on July 25, 2012 by javedbabar

TJ was on the graveyard shift at the Lucerne Valley Hotel. He heard steady footsteps down the front stairwell, accompanied by a cane tapping. It was an elderly person, probably Mr Ramzy. He wondered why he didn’t take the elevator. It would have saved his arthritic legs.

The footsteps and tapping continued for longer than expected. As TJ looked up from prolonged curiosity he saw Mr Ramzy at the bottom of the stairs, adjusting his tie knot and sweating slightly, which gave his amber complexion an unearthly sheen. Was he feeling sick? Why was he coming to reception at three a.m.?

“Good morning Mr Ramzy,” said TJ. “What brings you down here at this early hour? I hope everything is all right.”

“Bah! Nothing is all right!” said Mr Ramzy. “At my age you are always thinking about how things were then, and how things are now, and how much better they were in the old days.”

“Which things do you mean, Mr Ramzy? Everything, or just some things?”

“Well, this place for example. I remember the days when the Lucerne Valley Hotel had the best bar for miles, full of fine vodkas and whiskies, and rums and gins; when you’d never leave here without whipping someone’s ass, or having yours whipped, in a darned good fight; there were bowling lanes on that side” – he indicated the new toilets and baby changing facilities – “where I once hit ten strikes together! There were crazy bingo sessions where you won cabins, horses, even women; and a brothel upstairs that they called the United Nations, on account of all the exotic girls there, and let me tell you, not all of them were girls!” He winked with exaggeration. “And of course the bank that we all hated, and cheered when it got robbed, but which lent us money to get through harsh winters, and while we waited for our gold strikes and oil strikes, and when the cows died.”

TJ said, “This place? Really? It sounds so wild!”

“Yes, it was a wild place, but it was in a small town far away from everything, so The Authority left us alone. But during the PC Revolutions,” – there had been six of them in all: PC1 (Personal Computers), PC2 (Political Correctness), PC3 (Personal Corporations), PC4 (Party Components), PC5 (Purchase Costing), PC6 (Pacific Cities) – “they kept making demands to change this and that, and it’s a wonder this place survived at all.

“To be honest, it’s not much of a draw now, just pastel rooms like everywhere else and an average restaurant and themed cocktail bar, but I come for the memories. I credit the owners though, who went through two hundred years of changes in twenty years. It was a managed transition from bush saloon to modern hotel. I just wanted to talk to someone about it. I’m going back to bed now.” He tapped his way up again.

TJ was intrigued by the hotel’s past, so plugged himself into the main system. He accessed archived memory banks and found earlier versions of himself. His twenty percent android self was unchanged of course, but his human self had been a prospector, an outlaw, a banker, a soldier, a fur trader and a barman. He thought about the implications. He had surely at some point served drinks to himself.

Leave a comment »

« Older Entries
Newer Entries »