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For those that did, few pickets were ever violent, and most were humdrum and boring, at least until the government decided to open up a second front by seeking to put a scab into every pit.

Arthur C Clarke Collected Stories Vol 1

Then an occupation army arrived and all the paraphernalia of flying pickets and confrontation landed on the doorstep every day. Then the ordinary men and women and their kids in the coalfield experienced something they never thought they would in their lives: The strike was marked by quiet stoicism and a determination not to buckle, not to let the side down, reflected in the resolve of hundreds of thousands of individuals, standing together firstly as families, and without great back-slapping and public displays, as conscious members of a living community in continuity with mining union tradition.

He was a coalminer for plus years and a branch official of the Union for 25 years, as well as a member of its Yorkshire Executive during its most testing and dynamic period. He remains a full member of the NUM and is still active in the internal affairs of the Union, as well as being one of its more public and well-known representatives and a published author and historian of the coal communities.

Thanks for the review, just one correction it was Beethams miners support group. They tended to be single and lived in flats in town, either in groups or with their girlfriends, they were not the steriotypical pitman with a whippet and cloth cap who lived in villages.

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The support group we set up for them incidently it was MY pub too was composed of the most likewise unconventional folk, from Class War, Wolverine, and london punk scene. You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Twitter account. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Notify me of new comments via email. A prize group of volunteers in a flying hit squad made full use of these… On the battle of Orgreave Arthur [Scargill] called a secret planning meeting up in the national executive office.

Ghost Dancers: The miners last generation

Arthur would lead group one at the top gate, the rest of the country, north Yorkshire and Barnsley would attack the bottom gate, while I would lead Doncaster and south Yorkshire from two assembly points into the rear of the plant and take the loading bays… Just as we approached the back of the plant, the great throng of South Yorkshire men appeared over the old pit tip and charged down to meet us… There was no time for ripostes, the back doors were open and in we charged, trashing trains and loosing the bottoms out of waiting trucks of coal and coke. The three volumes of his autobiography under the title Stardust and Coaldust: Books , Dave Douglass , Miners.

In Earth Girl it is clear that Jarra starts her college field experience with many skills which other students lack, including the operation of the machines used for the dig and having a license to fly a plane. How she gets it is described in the novella Earth and Fire. The first two chapters in the novella are the short story from the Earth volume but it has 15 new chapters. It is an exciting and dangerous adventure set mostly in the skies above New York and Athens. This is the story of the inhabitants of a small English village and how they kept some unscrupulous big box executives from conning the town into allowing them to move into the town center.

The story has several viewpoint characters: The village is at the center of multiple crossing ley lines, and the town boundaries were magically enforced to keep out the neighboring magical realms, including the one Autumn visited but fled when she saw the true nature of the beings there.

The bad guys want to disrupt these protections so that chaos will erupt and they can take advantage of this to gain wealth and minions. The setting feels like an English version of a Charles de Lint story location: The good guys have to pull together in order to defeat the bad guys, of course, but how this is done and who has the magical knowledge needed to do it is quite a surprise. Everyone steps up their game in their own way, but the results are unexpected in many ways. Hopefully Paul Cornell will use this interesting magical village for more stories and we can see everyone again.

This modern village fantasy has a different feel than his fiction set in London, it has some urban fantasy concepts but the setting feels more comforting and quaint with a tinge of darkness around the edges rather than the crowded, dark, scary feel of most urban fantasy.

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Before you get the wrong idea — as I foolishly did — that Moore has a flair merely for things European and ancient, let me go back to the beginning. A Love Story , gods of various pantheons Coyote Blue , and Death incarnate, along with recurring characters and cameo appearances from detectives to shopkeepers and even Rastafari. Which brings us to…. Meanwhile, Asher is trying to raise his daughter Sophie, in whom Death Incarnate also has a significant interest. Vol 5 No 6.

Friday, September 4, This story centers around a caravan, and all the various beings associated with it. The setting has an African feel, with desert, oasis, plain, city and forest features at various points of the journey. It is sort of a strange travelogue focused on Demane and his boyfriend Isa, who is the Captain of the caravan workers. Isa and Demane both fall into this category. Isa has augmented physical skills and Demane has magical skills.

He is called Sorcerer by the members of the caravan.

Through flashbacks the tale of how Demane met Isa and they fell in love is interspersed with the ongoing caravan travel to the Wildeeps, and it turns out Demane left a good job in order to travel with the love of his life. The astute members of course realize the truth. The ending is rather tragic and not at all what a reader would expect. The world and characters in this novella are very rich, detailed and diverse both racially and culturally. Characters who look similar but hail from different geographical locations show a wide variation in habits, knowledge and customs.

Kai Ashante Wilson has only published short fiction previously so this is his debut longer work and what a wonderful debut. We will be looking for more of his work in the future. What a wonderful start to Tor.

Her skin develops a phosphorescent glow. The trilogy is born at the crossroads of environmental devastation and personal illness: Two forms of contamination converge in a feverish bout of writerly inspiration. Yet the implications of contamination become far more equivocal when transferred from reality to fiction. The oil spill and its massive poisoning of local ecosystems is an unquestionable tragedy for human, animal, and plant life; the disaster epitomizes a situation where the border between human things drilling rigs, extracted oil and nonhuman things bodies of water, marine life should, ideally, have been impenetrable.

But Area X is not an oil spill.

Indeed, it is the opposite: Life thrives in its rich biosphere, where ecosystems of the forest, swamp, salt marsh, and marine coast overlap. Area X is home to otters and wild boars, velvet ants and damselflies, purple thistles and tall pines, cormorants and owls, among many other known and unknown species. In contrast, the human world, protected behind the border maintained by the Southern Reach, lacks such vibrancy. Development, industrialization, and pollution have all taken their familiar toll. Area X offers a land cleansed of human contamination and enthusiastically flourishing.

Even the air is noticeably different: So while the function of the heavily-guarded border is to quarantine, to protect from contamination, the strange circumstances of Area X yield confusing uncertainty about which side is being protected from the other. Area X is at once a nature preserve under protection from the ravages of development, and a disaster area quivering with biohazards that threaten to leak across the world: Yet the nature of that threat is far less clear than the threat of , cubic meters of oil to a marine ecosystem.

Area X cultivates a testing ground for a permeable border between human and nonhuman things. The Southern Reach organization is officially dedicated to controlling and reversing that permeability. Is Area X really a threat at all? Might it offer, rather, a possibility to be embraced? What counts as survival, anyway—is it only the unaltered reproduction of a current form, or does it involve metamorphosis, evolution, adaptation? What might be gained by perforating the border between the human and nonhuman world, by letting the latter, for a change, infect the former?

Her interest, after all, is the study of life in all its variety, the constant exchanges and encounters between organisms. From her perspective, the infection of one organism by another is not a crisis, but a novel phenomenon to scrutinize—even in her own body. This cavalier approach to sickness, the reader learns, was a point of contention between the biologist and her husband, a medical professional.

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But for the biologist, sickness has its own value, scars their own form of interest. Getting sick is far graver in Area X, however, than in the world beyond the border. Furthermore, the unknown nature of the ecosystem and the unspecified disaster that has occurred there bestows high stakes on any infection. Previous expedition members have suffered a range of mental and physical maladies.

In one expedition, members commit group suicide; in the next, they go to war against one another. Strange animals roam the landscape: This uncanny menagerie of apparent human-nonhuman hybrids suggests one possible outcome of an Area X-borne infection: But being human is just not that important to the biologist, who seems to identify more as an organism than as a person. But she suspects that whatever happened to him, and to every hapless voyager before him, might happen differently to her. A gift that was poison to him and eventually killed him.

But would it have killed me? Her account of the infection and its progress is thus marked by extreme ambivalence. After a lifetime spent intensely observing the natural world, she experiences her newly heightened attunement to her surroundings with obvious joy. As her sensorium is reshaped, she perceives her environment with increasing intimacy, feeling herself a part of it and it a part of her.

To someone else, someone more invested in the human part of their identity, such ecological attunement might feel alarmingly new. To the biologist, it is deeply familiar. This willingness to receive —to let the substance of her own identity be imprinted by her environment, like pliant clay—is what makes her a good biologist, and a bad human.