PAKET UMROH BULAN FEBRUARI MARET APRIL MEI 2018




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saco-indonesia.com, Anggun C Sasmi merupakan penyanyi wanita Indonesia yang namanya juga sudah dikenal hingga mancanegara. Makanya banyak musisi yang ingin mencoba mengikuti jejaknya dalam hal bermusik, salah satunya Larra Sylvi.

"Menjadi penyanyi Internasional seperti Anggun adalah impianku," ujar Larra saat ditemui di FX Mal, Sudirman, Jakarta Pusat.

Makanya lewat single Kamu, dara kelahiran 16 Maret 1995 itu telah berharap akan bisa merealisasikan keinginannya untuk bisa membanggakan Indonesia dan tentu keluarga untuk dapat memulai go Internasional seperti Anggun.

"Semoga lewat single ini, aku juga bisa mengepakan sayap ku di industri musik Tanah Air. Dan juga dapat diterima oleh para pencinta musik," kata Larra.

Tentunya tidak mudah bagi Larra untuk menjadi seperti penyanyi idolanya. Maka itu dia juga mengaku butuh kritikan dari para penikmat musik tanah air agar bisa menjadikannya lebih matang.

"Terima (kritikan) banget. Malah aku suka minta dikritik. Ayo dong apa yang kurang. Kritikan itu sebenarnya sifatnya membangun, makanya aku ambil positifnya saja. Biar mental kuat juga," pungkasnya.


Editor : Dian Sukmawati

LARRA SYLVI INGIN SUKSES SEPERTI ANGGUN C SASMI

Sungai Musi telah mempunyai panjang 750 km dan juga merupakan sungai terpanjang di Pulau Sumatera. Sejak masa Kerajaan Sriwijaya, sungai Musi ini telah terkenal sebagai sarana transportasi utama masyarakat. Di tepi Sungai Musi juga terdapat Pelabuhan Boom Baru dan Museum Sultan Mahmud Badaruddin II.

Sungai Musi telah membelah Kota Palembang menjadi 2 bagian. Seberang Ilir di bagian Utara dan seberang Ulu di bagian Selatan. Mata airnya bersumber dari Kepahiang, Bengkulu. Sungai ini juga merupakan muara sembilan anak sungai besar, yaitu Sungai Komering, Rawas, Batanghari, Leko, Lakitan, Kelingi, Lematang, Semangus, dan Sungai Ogan. Sungai Musi penting bagi masyarakat Palembang karena sebagai salah satu alternatif sarana transportasi. Hal ini telah dilihat dari banyaknya perahu motor yang mondar-mandir membawa penumpang yang ingin menyeberang.

Biasanya pengunjung telah berdatangan ke Objek Wisata Sungai Musi Palembang pada sore hari hingga malam hari untuk dapat menyaksikan matahari terbenam dan suasan malam yang diterangi lampu-lampu di sekitar sungai. Pada malam minggu atau malam liburan lainnya, biasanya jumlah pengunjung yang mengunjungi Jembatan Ampera dan sekitarnya akan lebih banyak.

Objek Wisata Sungai Musi Palembang telah menjadi tempat rekreasi untuk tua muda dan anak-anak, termasuk wisatawan dari luar kota Palembang. Dikawasan ini, Anda juga dapat menyaksikan rumah sakit, yaitu rumah tradisional khas Palembang. Pada hari-hari perayaan tertentu, misalnya Hari Peringatan Kemerdekaan Indonesia, diadakan festival air, seperti perlombaan perahu bidar, kontes menghias perahu, perlombaan berenang menyeberangi sungai, dan lain-lain.

Disekitar Objek Wisata Sungai Musi Palembang, terdapat banyak penginapan dengan tarif yang berfariasi antara Rp 250 ribu hingga Rp 500 ribu. Sedangkan untuk keperluan makan, Anda tidak perlu bingung karena ditempat ini juga terdapat banyak rumah makan, baik yang ada di pinggir sungai atau di rumah terapung. Rumah-rumah makan tersebut juga telah menawarkan menu andalan, seperti pindang ikan patin yang merupakan makanan khas Pelembang.

Selain itu, di sekitar Objek Wisata Sungai Musi Palembang juga terdapat penjual kerupuk, pempek Palembang, dan kerajinan-kerajinan tangan, seperti songket dan kain jumputan. Di kawasan Jembatan Ampera, Anda juga dapat menyewa perahu motor dengan antara Rp 50 ribu hingga Rp 100 ribu rupiah, tergantung kelihaian Anda dalam melakukan tawar menawar.

Demikianlah Objek Wisata Alam Indonesia tentang Wisata Sungai Musi Palembang pada kesempatan kali ini.

TEMPAT WISATA SUNGAI MUSI

Di dalam olah data baik secara manual maupun dengan komputerisasi terdiri dari tiga tahapan dasar yaitu input, proses, output. Dan tiga tahapan dasar tersebut dapat dikembangkan menjadi :

a. Orginating-recording (pencatatan)
tahapan ini berhubungan dengan proses pengumpulan data yang biasanya merupakan proses pencatatan (recording) data ke dokumen dasar atau formulir.

B. Classifiying (klasifikasi)
tahapan ini memberikan identitas atau pengklasifikasian dalam data yang akan diolah, apakah identifikasi tersebut dilakukan untuk satu kelompok atau beberapa kelompok dari data yang nantinya merupakan karakteristik dari data yang bersangkutan

c. Sorting (penyusunan)
setelah data–data yang akan diolah diberikan identifikasi seperti diatas, maka data tersebut mungkin perlu diatur atau disusun sedemikian rupa, contohnya urutkan menurut kode klasifikasinya

d. Calculating (perhitungan)
disini data dimanipulasi seperti pelaksanaan perhitungan– perhitungan atau disebut calculating

e. Summarizing (penyusunan laporan)
untuk memungkinkan dilakukan analisa terhadap data atau informasi yang dihasilkan, diperlukan penyimpulan atau pembuatan rekapitulasi laporan sesuai dengan keinginan pemakai informasi

f. Storing (penyimpanan)
storing atau penyimpanan data dan informasi yang sejenis ke dalam file untuk referensi dimasa yang akan datang perlu dilakukan. Dan media penyimpanan ada beberapa macam, disesuaikan dengan metode dan peralatan yang dipakai dalam sistem pengolahan data, seperti disk, kartu, dokumen

g. Retrieving (pencarian)
di dalam file yang disimpan, pencarian data atau retrieving biasa digunakan dengan cara penyimpanannya, terutama jika pengolahan datanya menggunakan komputer

h. Communicating (komunikasi )
dalam proses olah data menjadi informasi, sampai informasi tersebut dipakai oleh user. Diperlukan suatu komunikasi sehinnga mempermudah proses pengolahan data menjadi informasi

i. Reproducing (penggandaan )
untuk pengamanan apabila data hilang atau rusak, juga untuk keperluan perusahaan lainnya bisa dilakukan dengan penggandaan dengan menggunakan mesin photocopy, disk, magnetic tape

 

CARA OLAH DATA YANG TEPAT

Bila nanti aku pergi
Jangan lagi panggil ku kembali
Bila nanti aku pergi
Takkan ada cinta kita lagi

Kita bisa balik lagi, pisah lagi
Apa kau mengerti
Bahwa ini bukanlah…
Bukan permainan… an…

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi… ii…

Bila nanti kau sendiri
Jangan ingat-ingat aku lagi

Kita bisa balik lagi, pisah lagi
Apa kau mengerti
Bahwa ini bukanlah…
Bukan permainan… an…

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Bila nanti aku pergi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Jangan lagi panggil ku kembali
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Bila nanti aku pergi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Takkan ada cinta kita lagi
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi

Bila nanti aku pergi
Jangan lagi panggil ku kembali

Bila nanti kau sendiri…
Jangan ingat-ingat aku lagi…
Bila nanti aku pergi
Jangan lagi panggil ku kembali
Bila nanti aku pergi
Takkan ada cinta kita lagi

Kita bisa balik lagi, pisah lagi
Apa kau mengerti
Bahwa ini bukanlah…
Bukan permainan… an…

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi… ii…

Bila nanti kau sendiri
Jangan ingat-ingat aku lagi

Kita bisa balik lagi, pisah lagi
Apa kau mengerti
Bahwa ini bukanlah…
Bukan permainan… an…

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Bila nanti aku pergi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Jangan lagi panggil ku kembali
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Bila nanti aku pergi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Takkan ada cinta kita lagi
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi

Bila nanti aku pergi
Jangan lagi panggil ku kembali

Bila nanti kau sendiri…
Jangan ingat-ingat aku lagi…

Bila nanti aku pergi
Jangan lagi panggil ku kembali
Bila nanti aku pergi
Takkan ada cinta kita lagi

Kita bisa balik lagi, pisah lagi
Apa kau mengerti
Bahwa ini bukanlah…
Bukan permainan… an…

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi… ii…

Bila nanti kau sendiri
Jangan ingat-ingat aku lagi

Kita bisa balik lagi, pisah lagi
Apa kau mengerti
Bahwa ini bukanlah…
Bukan permainan… an…

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Bila nanti aku pergi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Jangan lagi panggil ku kembali
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Bila nanti aku pergi
Tanpa aku kau akan baik saja
Takkan ada cinta kita lagi
Tanpa kamu ku akan baik saja

Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku menangis lagi
Kau tak bisa buatku bersedih lagi

Bila nanti aku pergi
Jangan lagi panggil ku kembali

Bila nanti kau sendiri…
Jangan ingat-ingat aku lagi…

http://musiklib.org/Gita_Gutawa-Bukan_Permainan-Lirik_Lagu.htm
gita gutawa bukan permainan

saco-indonesia.com, Berdasarkan hasil telaah dari Tim Pengamat Pemasyarakatan Direktorat Jenderal Pemasyarakatan, terpidana kasus narkotika asal Australia, Schapelle Leigh Corby telah mendapat pembebasan bersyarat.

Direktur Eksekutif LKPM (Lembaga Kajian Politik Univ.Prov.Dr. Moestopo), Didik Triana juga mengatakan partai penguasa, yaitu Partai Demokrat, akan terkena "getah" dari sikap pemerintah.

"Masyarakat kita bisa melihat sikap yang tidak tegas dari Presiden Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono (SBY). Hal tersebut tentu saja akan dapat berpengaruh terhadap simpati publik terhadap Partai Demokrat pada pemilu 2014," kata Didik, Senin (10/2/2014).

Dia juga telah menilai sikap pemerintah yang tidak komit terhadap pemberantasan narkoba di indonesia. Hal tersebut jauh dari harapan Indonesia bebas dari narkoba. Pembebasan Corby telah terkesan bahwa pemerintah telah memberi sinyal aman bagi bandar narkoba internasional, untuk dapat membuka pasar di Indonesia.

"Sebagai kepala negara, SBY haruslah bersikap komit, apalagi masalah narkoba bisa dibilang permasalahan yang sangat serius. Bisa kita lihat dari jumlah peredarannya dan efek negatifnya yang dari tahun ke tahun jumlahnya sangat meningkat. Saya lihat tidak ada keseriusan dari pemerintah untuk benar-benar memerangi narkoba," paparnya.

Pembebasan bersyarat untuk Corby telah dinilai akan mencoreng nama Indonesia di mata Internasional.

"Jelas sangat mempermalukan Indonesia di mata dunia, sudah jelas melalui inpresnya SBY sudah sangat tegas menyatakan keseriusannya dalam memerangi narkoba. Tapi pada kenyataanya hal itu berbanding terbalik dari kenyataan dan realitanya. Ibarat ucapan dan tindakan yang tidak sama.

Hal inilah yang saya maksud kasus pembebasan bersyarat corby sama saja mempermalukan negara," tutupnya.


Editor : Dian Sukmawati

PEMERINTAH BEBASKAN CORBY DEMOKRAT AKAN KENA 'GETAHNYA'

The bottle Mr. Sokolin famously broke was a 1787 Château Margaux, which was said to have belonged to Thomas Jefferson. Mr. Sokolin had been hoping to sell it for $519,750.

William Sokolin, Wine Seller Who Broke Famed Bottle, Dies at 85

THE WRITERS ASHLEY AND JAQUAVIS COLEMAN know the value of a good curtain-raiser. The couple have co-authored dozens of novels, and they like to start them with a bang: a headlong action sequence, a blast of violence or sex that rocks readers back on their heels. But the Colemans concede they would be hard-pressed to dream up anything more gripping than their own real-life opening scene.

In the summer of 2001, JaQuavis Coleman was a 16-year-old foster child in Flint, Mich., the former auto-manufacturing mecca that had devolved, in the wake of General Motors’ plant closures, into one of the country’s most dangerous cities, with a decimated economy and a violent crime rate more than three times the national average. When JaQuavis was 8, social services had removed him from his mother’s home. He spent years bouncing between foster families. At 16, JaQuavis was also a businessman: a crack dealer with a network of street-corner peddlers in his employ.

One day that summer, JaQuavis met a fellow dealer in a parking lot on Flint’s west side. He was there to make a bulk sale of a quarter-brick, or “nine-piece” — a nine-ounce parcel of cocaine, with a street value of about $11,000. In the middle of the transaction, JaQuavis heard the telltale chirp of a walkie-talkie. His customer, he now realized, was an undercover policeman. JaQuavis jumped into his car and spun out onto the road, with two unmarked police cars in pursuit. He didn’t want to get into a high-speed chase, so he whipped his car into a church parking lot and made a run for it, darting into an alleyway behind a row of small houses, where he tossed the quarter-brick into some bushes. When JaQuavis reached the small residential street on the other side of the houses, he was greeted by the police, who handcuffed him and went to search behind the houses where, they told him, they were certain he had ditched the drugs. JaQuavis had been dealing since he was 12, had amassed more than $100,000 and had never been arrested. Now, he thought: It’s over.

But when the police looked in the bushes, they couldn’t find any cocaine. They interrogated JaQuavis, who denied having ever possessed or sold drugs. They combed the backyard alley some more. After an hour of fruitless efforts, the police were forced to unlock the handcuffs and release their suspect.

JaQuavis was baffled by the turn of events until the next day, when he received a phone call. The previous afternoon, a 15-year-old girl had been sitting in her home on the west side of Flint when she heard sirens. She looked out of the window of her bedroom, and watched a young man throw a package in the bushes behind her house. She recognized him. He was a high school classmate — a handsome, charismatic boy whom she had admired from afar. The girl crept outside and grabbed the bundle, which she hid in her basement. “I have something that belongs to you,” Ashley Snell told JaQuavis Coleman when she reached him by phone. “You wanna come over here and pick it up?”

Photo
Three of the nearly 50 works of urban fiction published by the Colemans over the last decade, often featuring drug deals, violence, sex and a brash kind of feminism.Credit Marko Metzinger

In the Colemans’ first novel, “Dirty Money” (2005), they told a version of this story. The outline was the same: the drug deal gone bad, the dope chucked in the bushes, the fateful phone call. To the extent that the authors took poetic license, it was to tone down the meet-cute improbability of the true-life events. In “Dirty Money,” the girl, Anari, and the crack dealer, Maurice, circle each other warily for a year or so before coupling up. But the facts of Ashley and JaQuavis’s romance outstripped pulp fiction. They fell in love more or less at first sight, moved into their own apartment while still in high school and were married in 2008. “We were together from the day we met,” Ashley says. “I don’t think we’ve spent more than a week apart in total over the past 14 years.”

That partnership turned out to be creative and entrepreneurial as well as romantic. Over the past decade, the Colemans have published nearly 50 books, sometimes as solo writers, sometimes under pseudonyms, but usually as collaborators with a byline that has become a trusted brand: “Ashley & JaQuavis.” They are marquee stars of urban fiction, or street lit, a genre whose inner-city settings and lurid mix of crime, sex and sensationalism have earned it comparisons to gangsta rap. The emergence of street lit is one of the big stories in recent American publishing, a juggernaut that has generated huge sales by catering to a readership — young, black and, for the most part, female — that historically has been ill-served by the book business. But the genre is also widely maligned. Street lit is subject to a kind of triple snobbery: scorned by literati who look down on genre fiction generally, ignored by a white publishing establishment that remains largely indifferent to black books and disparaged by African-American intellectuals for poor writing, coarse values and trafficking in racial stereotypes.

But if a certain kind of cultural prestige is shut off to the Colemans, they have reaped other rewards. They’ve built a large and loyal fan base, which gobbles up the new Ashley & JaQuavis titles that arrive every few months. Many of those books are sold at street-corner stands and other off-the-grid venues in African-American neighborhoods, a literary gray market that doesn’t register a blip on best-seller tallies. Yet the Colemans’ most popular series now regularly crack the trade fiction best-seller lists of The New York Times and Publishers Weekly. For years, the pair had no literary agent; they sold hundreds of thousands of books without banking a penny in royalties. Still, they have earned millions of dollars, almost exclusively from cash-for-manuscript deals negotiated directly with independent publishing houses. In short, though little known outside of the world of urban fiction, the Colemans are one of America’s most successful literary couples, a distinction they’ve achieved, they insist, because of their work’s gritty authenticity and their devotion to a primal literary virtue: the power of the ripping yarn.

“When you read our books, you’re gonna realize: ‘Ashley & JaQuavis are storytellers,’ ” says Ashley. “Our tales will get your heart pounding.”

THE COLEMANS’ HOME BASE — the cottage from which they operate their cottage industry — is a spacious four-bedroom house in a genteel suburb about 35 miles north of downtown Detroit. The house is plush, but when I visited this past winter, it was sparsely appointed. The couple had just recently moved in, and had only had time to fully furnish the bedroom of their 4-year-old son, Quaye.

In conversation, Ashley and JaQuavis exude both modesty and bravado: gratitude for their good fortune and bootstrappers’ pride in having made their own luck. They talk a lot about their time in the trenches, the years they spent as a drug dealer and “ride-or-die girl” tandem. In Flint they learned to “grind hard.” Writing, they say, is merely a more elevated kind of grind.

“Instead of hitting the block like we used to, we hit the laptops,” says Ashley. “I know what every word is worth. So while I’m writing, I’m like: ‘Okay, there’s a hundred dollars. There’s a thousand dollars. There’s five thousand dollars.’ ”

They maintain a rigorous regimen. They each try to write 5,000 words per day, five days a week. The writers stagger their shifts: JaQuavis goes to bed at 7 p.m. and wakes up early, around 3 or 4 in the morning, to work while his wife and child sleep. Ashley writes during the day, often in libraries or at Starbucks.

They divide the labor in other ways. Chapters are divvied up more or less equally, with tasks assigned according to individual strengths. (JaQuavis typically handles character development. Ashley loves writing murder scenes.) The results are stitched together, with no editorial interference from one author in the other’s text. The real work, they contend, is the brainstorming. The Colemans spend weeks mapping out their plot-driven books — long conversations that turn into elaborate diagrams on dry-erase boards. “JaQuavis and I are so close, it makes the process real easy,” says Ashley. “Sometimes when I’m thinking of something, a plot point, he’ll say it out loud, and I’m like: ‘Wait — did I say that?’ ”

Their collaboration developed by accident, and on the fly. Both were bookish teenagers. Ashley read lots of Judy Blume and John Grisham; JaQuavis liked Shakespeare, Richard Wright and “Atlas Shrugged.” (Their first official date was at a Borders bookstore, where Ashley bought “The Coldest Winter Ever,” the Sister Souljah novel often credited with kick-starting the contemporary street-lit movement.) In 2003, Ashley, then 17, was forced to terminate an ectopic pregnancy. She was bedridden for three weeks, and to provide distraction and boost her spirits, JaQuavis challenged his girlfriend to a writing contest. “She just wasn’t talking. She was laying in bed. I said, ‘You know what? I bet you I could write a better book than you.’ My wife is real competitive. So I said, ‘Yo, all right, $500 bet.’ And I saw her eyes spark, like, ‘What?! You can’t write no better book than me!’ So I wrote about three chapters. She wrote about three chapters. Two days later, we switched.”

The result, hammered out in a few days, would become “Dirty Money.” Two years later, when Ashley and JaQuavis were students at Ferris State University in Western Michigan, they sold the manuscript to Urban Books, a street-lit imprint founded by the best-selling author Carl Weber. At the time, JaQuavis was still making his living selling drugs. When Ashley got the phone call informing her that their book had been bought, she assumed they’d hit it big, and flushed more than $10,000 worth of cocaine down the toilet. Their advance was a mere $4,000.

Photo
The roots of street lit, found in the midcentury detective novels of Chester Himes and the ‘60s and ‘70s “ghetto fiction” of Iceberg Slim and Donald Goines.Credit Marko Metzinger

Those advances would soon increase, eventually reaching five and six figures. The Colemans built their career, JaQuavis says, in a manner that made sense to him as a veteran dope peddler: by flooding the street with product. From the start, they were prolific, churning out books at a rate of four or five a year. Their novels made their way into stores; the now-defunct chain Waldenbooks, which had stores in urban areas typically bypassed by booksellers, was a major engine of the street-lit market. But Ashley and JaQuavis took advantage of distribution channels established by pioneering urban fiction authors such as Teri Woods and Vickie Stringer, and a network of street-corner tables, magazine stands, corner shops and bodegas. Like rappers who establish their bona fides with gray-market mixtapes, street-lit authors use this system to circumnavigate industry gatekeepers, bringing their work straight to the genre’s core readership. But urban fiction has other aficionados, in less likely places. “Our books are so popular in the prison system,” JaQuavis says. “We’re banned in certain penitentiaries. Inmates fight over the books — there are incidents, you know? I have loved ones in jail, and they’re like: ‘Yo, your books can’t come in here. It’s against the rules.’ ”

The appeal of the Colemans’ work is not hard to fathom. The books are formulaic and taut; they deliver the expected goods efficiently and exuberantly. The titles telegraph the contents: “Diary of a Street Diva,” “Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang,” “Murderville.” The novels serve up a stream of explicit sex and violence in a slangy, tangy, profane voice. In Ashley & JaQuavis’s books people don’t get killed: they get “popped,” “laid out,” get their “cap twisted back.” The smut is constant, with emphasis on the earthy, sticky, olfactory particulars. Romance novel clichés — shuddering orgasms, heroic carnal feats, superlative sexual skill sets — are rendered in the Colemans’ punchy patois.

Subtlety, in other words, isn’t Ashley & JaQuavis’s forte. But their books do have a grainy specificity. In “The Cartel” (2008), the first novel in the Colemans’ best-selling saga of a Miami drug syndicate, they catch the sights and smells of a crack workshop in a housing project: the nostril-stinging scent of cocaine and baking soda bubbling on stovetops; the teams of women, stripped naked except for hospital masks so they can’t pilfer the merchandise, “cutting up the cooked coke on the round wood table.” The subject matter is dark, but the Colemans’ tone is not quite noir. Even in the grimmest scenes, the mood is high-spirited, with the writers palpably relishing the lewd and gory details: the bodies writhing in boudoirs and crumpling under volleys of bullets, the geysers of blood and other bodily fluids.

The luridness of street lit has made it a flashpoint, inciting controversy reminiscent of the hip-hop culture wars of the 1980s and ’90s. But the street-lit debate touches deeper historical roots, reviving decades-old arguments in black literary circles about the mandate to uplift the race and present wholesome images of African-Americans. In 1928, W. E. B. Du Bois slammed the “licentiousness” of “Home to Harlem,” Claude McKay’s rollicking novel of Harlem nightlife. McKay’s book, Du Bois wrote, “for the most part nauseates me, and after the dirtier parts of its filth I feel distinctly like taking a bath.” Similar sentiments have greeted 21st-century street lit. In a 2006 New York Times Op-Ed essay, the journalist and author Nick Chiles decried “the sexualization and degradation of black fiction.” African-American bookstores, Chiles complained, are “overrun with novels that . . . appeal exclusively to our most prurient natures — as if these nasty books were pairing off back in the stockrooms like little paperback rabbits and churning out even more graphic offspring that make Ralph Ellison books cringe into a dusty corner.”

Copulating paperbacks aside, it’s clear that the street-lit debate is about more than literature, touching on questions of paternalism versus populism, and on middle-class anxieties about the black underclass. “It’s part and parcel of black elites’ efforts to define not only a literary tradition, but a racial politics,” said Kinohi Nishikawa, an assistant professor of English and African-American Studies at Princeton University. “There has always been a sense that because African-Americans’ opportunities to represent themselves are so limited in the first place, any hint of criminality or salaciousness would necessarily be a knock on the entire racial politics. One of the pressing debates about African-American literature today is: If we can’t include writers like Ashley & JaQuavis, to what extent is the foundation of our thinking about black literature faulty? Is it just a literature for elites? Or can it be inclusive, bringing urban fiction under the purview of our umbrella term ‘African-American literature’?”

Defenders of street lit note that the genre has a pedigree: a tradition of black pulp fiction that stretches from Chester Himes, the midcentury author of hardboiled Harlem detective stories, to the 1960s and ’70s “ghetto fiction” of Iceberg Slim and Donald Goines, to the current wave of urban fiction authors. Others argue for street lit as a social good, noting that it attracts a large audience that might otherwise never read at all. Scholars like Nishikawa link street lit to recent studies showing increased reading among African-Americans. A 2014 Pew Research Center report found that a greater percentage of black Americans are book readers than whites or Latinos.

For their part, the Colemans place their work in the broader black literary tradition. “You have Maya Angelou, Alice Walker, James Baldwin — all of these traditional black writers, who wrote about the struggles of racism, injustice, inequality,” says Ashley. “We’re writing about the struggle as it happens now. It’s just a different struggle. I’m telling my story. I’m telling the struggle of a black girl from Flint, Michigan, who grew up on welfare.”

Photo
The Colemans in their new four-bedroom house in the northern suburbs of Detroit.Credit Courtesy of Ashley and JaQuavis Coleman

Perhaps there is a high-minded case to be made for street lit. But the virtues of Ashley & JaQuavis’s work are more basic. Their novels do lack literary polish. The writing is not graceful; there are passages of clunky exposition and sex scenes that induce guffaws and eye rolls. But the pleasure quotient is high. The books flaunt a garish brand of feminism, with women characters cast not just as vixens, but also as gangsters — cold-blooded killers, “murder mamas.” The stories are exceptionally well-plotted. “The Cartel” opens by introducing its hero, the crime boss Carter Diamond; on page 9, a gunshot spatters Diamond’s brain across the interior of a police cruiser. The book then flashes back seven years and begins to hurtle forward again — a bullet train, whizzing readers through shifting alliances, romantic entanglements and betrayals, kidnappings, shootouts with Haitian and Dominican gangsters, and a cliffhanger closing scene that leaves the novel’s heroine tied to a chair in a basement, gruesomely tortured to the edge of death. Ashley & JaQuavis’s books are not Ralph Ellison, certainly, but they build up quite a head of steam. They move.

The Colemans are moving themselves these days. They recently signed a deal with St. Martin’s Press, which will bring out the next installment in the “Cartel” series as well as new solo series by both writers. The St. Martin’s deal is both lucrative and legitimizing — a validation of Ashley and JaQuavis’s work by one of publishing’s most venerable houses. The Colemans’ ambitions have grown, as well. A recent trilogy, “Murderville,” tackles human trafficking and the blood-diamond industry in West Africa, with storylines that sweep from Sierra Leone to Mexico to Los Angeles. Increasingly, Ashley & JaQuavis are leaning on research — traveling to far-flung settings and hitting the books in the libraries — and spending less time mining their own rough-and-tumble past.

But Flint remains a source of inspiration. One evening not long ago, JaQuavis led me on a tour of his hometown: a popular roadside bar; the parking lot where he met the undercover cop for the ill-fated drug deal; Ashley’s old house, the site of his almost-arrest. He took me to a ramshackle vehicle repair shop on Flint’s west side, where he worked as a kid, washing cars. He showed me a bathroom at the rear of the garage, where, at age 12, he sneaked away to inspect the first “boulder” of crack that he ever sold. A spray-painted sign on the garage wall, which JaQuavis remembered from his time at the car wash, offered words of warning:

WHAT EVERY YOUNG MAN SHOULD KNOW
ABOUT USING A GUN:
MURDER . . . 30 Years
ARMED ROBBERY . . . 15 Years
ASSAULT . . . 15 Years
RAPE . . . 20 Years
POSSESSION . . . 5 Years
JACKING . . . 20 YEARS

“We still love Flint, Michigan,” JaQuavis says. “It’s so seedy, so treacherous. But there’s some heart in this city. This is where it all started, selling books out the box. In the days when we would get those little $40,000 advances, they’d send us a couple boxes of books for free. We would hit the streets to sell our books, right out of the car trunk. It was a hustle. It still is.”

One old neighborhood asset that the Colemans have not shaken off is swagger. “My wife is the best female writer in the game,” JaQuavis told me. “I believe I’m the best male writer in the game. I’m sleeping next to the best writer in the world. And she’s doing the same.”

 
From T Magazine: Street Lit’s Power Couple
Photo
 
Many bodies prepared for cremation last week in Kathmandu were of young men from Gongabu, a common stopover for Nepali migrant workers headed overseas. Credit Daniel Berehulak for The New York Times

KATHMANDU, Nepal — When the dense pillar of smoke from cremations by the Bagmati River was thinning late last week, the bodies were all coming from Gongabu, a common stopover for Nepali migrant workers headed overseas, and they were all of young men.

Hindu custom dictates that funeral pyres should be lighted by the oldest son of the deceased, but these men were too young to have sons, so they were burned by their brothers or fathers. Sukla Lal, a maize farmer, made a 14-hour journey by bus to retrieve the body of his 19-year-old son, who had been on his way to the Persian Gulf to work as a laborer.

“He wanted to live in the countryside, but he was compelled to leave by poverty,” Mr. Lal said, gazing ahead steadily as his son’s remains smoldered. “He told me, ‘You can live on your land, and I will come up with money, and we will have a happy family.’ ”

Weeks will pass before the authorities can give a complete accounting of who died in the April 25 earthquake, but it is already clear that Nepal cannot afford the losses. The countryside was largely stripped of its healthy young men even before the quake, as they migrated in great waves — 1,500 a day by some estimates — to work as laborers in India, Malaysia or one of the gulf nations, leaving many small communities populated only by elderly parents, women and children. Economists say that at some times of the year, one-quarter of Nepal’s population is working outside the country.

Nepal’s Young Men, Lost to Migration, Then a Quake

The 2015 Met Gala has only officially begun, but there's a clear leader in the race for best couple, no small feat at an event that threatens to sap Hollywood of every celebrity it has for the duration of an East Coast evening.

That would be Marc Jacobs and his surprise guest (who, by some miracle, remained under wraps until their red carpet debut), Cher.

“This has been a dream of mine for a very, very long time,” Mr. Jacobs said.

It is Cher's first appearance at the Met Gala since 1997, when she arrived on the arm of Donatella Versace.

– MATTHEW SCHNEIER

Cher and Marc Jacobs

Ms. Pryor, who served more than two decades in the State Department, was the author of well-regarded biographies of the founder of the American Red Cross and the Confederate commander.

Elizabeth Brown Pryor, Biographer of Clara Barton and Robert E. Lee, Dies at 64

HOBART, Tasmania — Few places seem out of reach for China’s leader, Xi Jinping, who has traveled from European capitals to obscure Pacific and Caribbean islands in pursuit of his nation’s strategic interests.

So perhaps it was not surprising when he turned up last fall in this city on the edge of the Southern Ocean to put down a long-distance marker in another faraway region, Antarctica, 2,000 miles south of this Australian port.

Standing on the deck of an icebreaker that ferries Chinese scientists from this last stop before the frozen continent, Mr. Xi pledged that China would continue to expand in one of the few places on earth that remain unexploited by humans.

He signed a five-year accord with the Australian government that allows Chinese vessels and, in the future, aircraft to resupply for fuel and food before heading south. That will help secure easier access to a region that is believed to have vast oil and mineral resources; huge quantities of high-protein sea life; and for times of possible future dire need, fresh water contained in icebergs.

It was not until 1985, about seven decades after Robert Scott and Roald Amundsen raced to the South Pole, that a team representing Beijing hoisted the Chinese flag over the nation’s first Antarctic research base, the Great Wall Station on King George Island.

But now China seems determined to catch up. As it has bolstered spending on Antarctic research, and as the early explorers, especially the United States and Australia, confront stagnant budgets, there is growing concern about its intentions.

China’s operations on the continent — it opened its fourth research station last year, chose a site for a fifth, and is investing in a second icebreaker and new ice-capable planes and helicopters — are already the fastest growing of the 52 signatories to the Antarctic Treaty. That gentlemen’s agreement reached in 1959 bans military activity on the continent and aims to preserve it as one of the world’s last wildernesses; a related pact prohibits mining.

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But Mr. Xi’s visit was another sign that China is positioning itself to take advantage of the continent’s resource potential when the treaty expires in 2048 — or in the event that it is ripped up before, Chinese and Australian experts say.

“So far, our research is natural-science based, but we know there is more and more concern about resource security,” said Yang Huigen, director general of the Polar Research Institute of China, who accompanied Mr. Xi last November on his visit to Hobart and stood with him on the icebreaker, Xue Long, or Snow Dragon.

With that in mind, the polar institute recently opened a new division devoted to the study of resources, law, geopolitics and governance in Antarctica and the Arctic, Mr. Yang said.

Australia, a strategic ally of the United States that has strong economic relations with China, is watching China’s buildup in the Antarctic with a mix of gratitude — China’s presence offers support for Australia’s Antarctic science program, which is short of cash — and wariness.

“We should have no illusions about the deeper agenda — one that has not even been agreed to by Chinese scientists but is driven by Xi, and most likely his successors,” said Peter Jennings, executive director of the Australian Strategic Policy Institute and a former senior official in the Australian Department of Defense.

“This is part of a broader pattern of a mercantilist approach all around the world,” Mr. Jennings added. “A big driver of Chinese policy is to secure long-term energy supply and food supply.”

That approach was evident last month when a large Chinese agriculture enterprise announced an expansion of its fishing operations around Antarctica to catch more krill — small, protein-rich crustaceans that are abundant in Antarctic waters.

“The Antarctic is a treasure house for all human beings, and China should go there and share,” Liu Shenli, the chairman of the China National Agricultural Development Group, told China Daily, a state-owned newspaper. China would aim to fish up to two million tons of krill a year, he said, a substantial increase from what it currently harvests.

Because sovereignty over Antarctica is unclear, nations have sought to strengthen their claims over the ice-covered land by building research bases and naming geographic features. China’s fifth station will put it within reach of the six American facilities, and ahead of Australia’s three.

Chinese mappers have also given Chinese names to more than 300 sites, compared with the thousands of locations on the continent with English names.

In the unspoken competition for Antarctica’s future, scientific achievement can also translate into influence. Chinese scientists are driving to be the first to drill and recover an ice core containing tiny air bubbles that provide a record of climate change stretching as far back as 1.5 million years. It is an expensive and delicate effort at which others, including the European Union and Australia, have failed.

In a breakthrough a decade ago, European scientists extracted an ice core nearly two miles long that revealed 800,000 years of climate history. But finding an ice core going back further would allow scientists to examine a change in the earth’s climate cycles believed to have occurred 900,000 to 1.2 million years ago.

China is betting it has found the best location to drill, at an area called Dome A, or Dome Argus, the highest point on the East Antarctic Ice Sheet. Though it is considered one of the coldest places on the planet, with temperatures of 130 degrees below zero Fahrenheit, a Chinese expedition explored the area in 2005 and established a research station in 2009.

“The international community has drilled in lots of places, but no luck so far,” said Xiao Cunde, a member of the first party to reach the site and the deputy director of the Institute for Climate Change at the Chinese Academy of Meteorological Sciences. “We think at Dome A we will have a straight shot at the one-million-year ice core.”

Mr. Xiao said China had already begun drilling and hoped to find what scientists are looking for in four to five years.

To support its Antarctic aspirations, China is building a sophisticated $300 million icebreaker that is expected to be ready in a few years, said Xia Limin, deputy director of the Chinese Arctic and Antarctic Administration in Beijing. It has also bought a high-tech fixed-wing aircraft, outfitted in the United States, for taking sensitive scientific soundings from the ice.

China has chosen the site for its fifth research station at Inexpressible Island, named by a group of British explorers who were stranded at the desolate site in 1912 and survived the winter by excavating a small ice cave.

Mr. Xia said the inhospitable spot was ideal because China did not have a presence in that part of Antarctica, and because the rocky site did not have much snow, making it relatively cheap to build there.

Anne-Marie Brady, a professor of political science at the University of Canterbury in New Zealand and the author of a soon-to-be-released book, “China as a Polar Great Power,” said Chinese scientists also believed they had a good chance of finding mineral and energy resources near the site.

“China is playing a long game in Antarctica and keeping other states guessing about its true intentions and interests are part of its poker hand,” she said. But she noted that China’s interest in finding minerals was presented “loud and clear to domestic audiences” as the main reason it was investing in Antarctica.

Because commercial drilling is banned, estimates of energy and mineral resources in Antarctica rely on remote sensing data and comparisons with similar geological environments elsewhere, said Millard F. Coffin, executive director of the Institute for Marine and Antarctic Studies in Hobart.

But the difficulty of extraction in such severe conditions and uncertainty about future commodity prices make it unlikely that China or any country would defy the ban on mining anytime soon.

Tourism, however, is already booming. Travelers from China are still a relatively small contingent in the Antarctic compared with the more than 13,000 Americans who visited in 2013, and as yet there are no licensed Chinese tour operators.

But that is about to change, said Anthony Bergin, deputy director of the Australian Strategic Policy Institute. “I understand very soon there will be Chinese tourists on Chinese vessels with all-Chinese crew in the Antarctic,” he said.

 

Top News China’s Intents Are Questioned as It Builds in Antarctica

A lapsed seminarian, Mr. Chambers succeeded Saul Alinsky as leader of the social justice umbrella group Industrial Areas Foundation.

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The 6-foot-10 Phillips played alongside the 6-11 Rick Robey on the Wildcats team that won the 1978 N.C.A.A. men’s basketball title.

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“It was really nice to play with other women and not have this underlying tone of being at each other’s throats.”

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Mr. Napoleon was a self-taught musician whose career began in earnest with the orchestra led by Chico Marx of the Marx Brothers.

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Children playing last week in Sandtown-Winchester, the Baltimore neighborhood where Freddie Gray was raised. One young resident called it “a tough community.”
Todd Heisler/The New York Times

Children playing last week in Sandtown-Winchester, the Baltimore neighborhood where Freddie Gray was raised. One young resident called it “a tough community.”

Hard but Hopeful Home to ‘Lot of Freddies’

Hard but Hopeful Home to ‘Lot of Freddies’

Though Robin and Joan Rolfs owned two rare talking dolls manufactured by Thomas Edison’s phonograph company in 1890, they did not dare play the wax cylinder records tucked inside each one.

The Rolfses, longtime collectors of Edison phonographs, knew that if they turned the cranks on the dolls’ backs, the steel phonograph needle might damage or destroy the grooves of the hollow, ring-shaped cylinder. And so for years, the dolls sat side by side inside a display cabinet, bearers of a message from the dawn of sound recording that nobody could hear.

In 1890, Edison’s dolls were a flop; production lasted only six weeks. Children found them difficult to operate and more scary than cuddly. The recordings inside, which featured snippets of nursery rhymes, wore out quickly.

Yet sound historians say the cylinders were the first entertainment records ever made, and the young girls hired to recite the rhymes were the world’s first recording artists.

Year after year, the Rolfses asked experts if there might be a safe way to play the recordings. Then a government laboratory developed a method to play fragile records without touching them.

Audio

The technique relies on a microscope to create images of the grooves in exquisite detail. A computer approximates — with great accuracy — the sounds that would have been created by a needle moving through those grooves.

In 2014, the technology was made available for the first time outside the laboratory.

“The fear all along is that we don’t want to damage these records. We don’t want to put a stylus on them,” said Jerry Fabris, the curator of the Thomas Edison Historical Park in West Orange, N.J. “Now we have the technology to play them safely.”

Last month, the Historical Park posted online three never-before-heard Edison doll recordings, including the two from the Rolfses’ collection. “There are probably more out there, and we’re hoping people will now get them digitized,” Mr. Fabris said.

The technology, which is known as Irene (Image, Reconstruct, Erase Noise, Etc.), was developed by the particle physicist Carl Haber and the engineer Earl Cornell at Lawrence Berkeley. Irene extracts sound from cylinder and disk records. It can also reconstruct audio from recordings so badly damaged they were deemed unplayable.

“We are now hearing sounds from history that I did not expect to hear in my lifetime,” Mr. Fabris said.

The Rolfses said they were not sure what to expect in August when they carefully packed their two Edison doll cylinders, still attached to their motors, and drove from their home in Hortonville, Wis., to the National Document Conservation Center in Andover, Mass. The center had recently acquired Irene technology.

Audio

Cylinders carry sound in a spiral groove cut by a phonograph recording needle that vibrates up and down, creating a surface made of tiny hills and valleys. In the Irene set-up, a microscope perched above the shaft takes thousands of high-resolution images of small sections of the grooves.

Stitched together, the images provide a topographic map of the cylinder’s surface, charting changes in depth as small as one five-hundredth the thickness of a human hair. Pitch, volume and timbre are all encoded in the hills and valleys and the speed at which the record is played.

At the conservation center, the preservation specialist Mason Vander Lugt attached one of the cylinders to the end of a rotating shaft. Huddled around a computer screen, the Rolfses first saw the wiggly waveform generated by Irene. Then came the digital audio. The words were at first indistinct, but as Mr. Lugt filtered out more of the noise, the rhyme became clearer.

“That was the Eureka moment,” Mr. Rolfs said.

In 1890, a girl in Edison’s laboratory had recited:

There was a little girl,

And she had a little curl

Audio

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was very, very good.

But when she was bad, she was horrid.

Recently, the conservation center turned up another surprise.

In 2010, the Woody Guthrie Foundation received 18 oversize phonograph disks from an anonymous donor. No one knew if any of the dirt-stained recordings featured Guthrie, but Tiffany Colannino, then the foundation’s archivist, had stored them unplayed until she heard about Irene.

Last fall, the center extracted audio from one of the records, labeled “Jam Session 9” and emailed the digital file to Ms. Colannino.

“I was just sitting in my dining room, and the next thing I know, I’m hearing Woody,” she said. In between solo performances of “Ladies Auxiliary,” “Jesus Christ,” and “Dead or Alive,” Guthrie tells jokes, offers some back story, and makes the audience laugh. “It is quintessential Guthrie,” Ms. Colannino said.

The Rolfses’ dolls are back in the display cabinet in Wisconsin. But with audio stored on several computers, they now have a permanent voice.

Ghostly Voices From Thomas Edison’s Dolls Can Now Be Heard
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