Bayram Cigerli Blog

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Cars etiketine sahip kayıtlar gösteriliyor. Tüm kayıtları göster
Cars etiketine sahip kayıtlar gösteriliyor. Tüm kayıtları göster

BMW New Hybrid Supercar Is Thrilling

BMW New Hybrid Supercar Is Thrilling

During the first days, they went along smoothly enough. The sea was not very unpropitious, the wind seemed stationary in the north-east, the sails were hoisted, and the Henrietta ploughed across the waves like a real trans-Atlantic steamer.

Passepartout was delighted. His master's last exploit, the consequences of which he ignored, enchanted him. Never had the crew seen so jolly and dexterous a fellow. He formed warm friendships with the sailors, and amazed them with his acrobatic feats. He thought they managed the vessel like gentlemen, and that the stokers fired up like heroes. His loquacious good-humour infected everyone. He had forgotten the past, its vexations and delays. He only thought of the end, so nearly accomplished; and sometimes he boiled over with impatience, as if heated by the furnaces of the Henrietta. Often, also, the worthy fellow revolved around Fix, looking at him with a keen, distrustful eye; but he did not speak to him, for their old intimacy no longer existed.

Fix, it must be confessed, understood nothing of what was going on. The conquest of the Henrietta, the bribery of the crew, Fogg managing the boat like a skilled seaman, amazed and confused him. He did not know what to think. For, after all, a man who began by stealing fifty-five thousand pounds might end by stealing a vessel; and Fix was not unnaturally inclined to conclude that the Henrietta under Fogg's command, was not going to Liverpool at all, but to some part of the world where the robber, turned into a pirate, would quietly put himself in safety. The conjecture was at least a plausible one, and the detective began to seriously regret that he had embarked on the affair.
As for Captain Speedy, he continued to howl and growl in his cabin; and Passepartout, whose duty it was to carry him his meals, courageous as he was, took the greatest precautions. Mr. Fogg did not seem even to know that there was a captain on board.

On the 13th they passed the edge of the Banks of Newfoundland, a dangerous locality; during the winter, especially, there are frequent fogs and heavy gales of wind. Ever since the evening before the barometer, suddenly falling, had indicated an approaching change in the atmosphere; and during the night the temperature varied, the cold became sharper, and the wind veered to the south-east.
This was a misfortune. Mr. Fogg, in order not to deviate from his course, furled his sails and increased the force of the steam; but the vessel's speed slackened, owing to the state of the sea, the long waves of which broke against the stern. She pitched violently, and this retarded her progress. The breeze little by little swelled into a tempest, and it was to be feared that the Henrietta might not be able to maintain herself upright on the waves.

Passepartout's visage darkened with the skies, and for two days the poor fellow experienced constant fright. But Phileas Fogg was a bold mariner, and knew how to maintain headway against the sea; and he kept on his course, without even decreasing his steam. The Henrietta, when she could not rise upon the waves, crossed them, swamping her deck, but passing safely. Sometimes the screw rose out of the water, beating its protruding end, when a mountain of water raised the stern above the waves; but the craft always kept straight ahead.

"You're a queer un, Granser, talking about things you can't see. If you can't see 'em, how do you know they are? That's what I want to know. How do you know anything you can't see?"
The wind, however, did not grow as boisterous as might have been feared; it was not one of those tempests which burst, and rush on with a speed of ninety miles an hour. It continued fresh, but, unhappily, it remained obstinately in the south-east, rendering the sails useless.

The 16th of December was the seventy-fifth day since Phileas Fogg's departure from London, and the Henrietta had not yet been seriously delayed. Half of the voyage was almost accomplished, and the worst localities had been passed. In summer, success would have been well-nigh certain. In winter, they were at the mercy of the bad season. Passepartout said nothing; but he cherished hope in secret, and comforted himself with the reflection that, if the wind failed them, they might still count on the steam.

On this day the engineer came on deck, went up to Mr. Fogg, and began to speak earnestly with him. Without knowing why it was a presentiment, perhaps Passepartout became vaguely uneasy. He would have given one of his ears to hear with the other what the engineer was saying. He finally managed to catch a few words, and was sure he heard his master say, "You are certain of what you tell me?"

[review]
[item review-value="8"]Hardware[/item]
[item review-value="7"]Gameplay[/item]
[item review-value="6"]Graphics[/item]
[item review-value="9"]Sound[/item]
[content title="Summary" label="Overall Score"]My fellow Earthicans, as I have explained in my book Earth in the Balance, and the much more popular Harry Potter and the Balance of Earth, we need to defend our planet against pollution. Also dark wizards but I know you in the future back in our hands.[/content]
[/review]

Spotify launching Top 50 charts

Returning to the Spouter-Inn from the Chapel, I found Queequeg there quite alone; he having left the Chapel before the benediction some time. He was sitting on a bench before the fire, with his feet on the stove hearth, and in one hand was holding close up to his face that little negro idol of his; peering hard into its face, and with a jack-knife gently whittling away at its nose, meanwhile humming to himself in his heathenish way.

But being now interrupted, he put up the image; and pretty soon, going to the table, took up a large book there, and placing it on his lap began counting the pages with deliberate regularity; at every fiftieth page—as I fancied—stopping a moment, looking vacantly around him, and giving utterance to a long-drawn gurgling whistle of astonishment. He would then begin again at the next fifty; seeming to commence at number one each time, as though he could not count more than fifty, and it was only by such a large number of fifties being found together, that his astonishment at the multitude of pages was excited.

[bgallery] [img alt="cars" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGziuZGltpwB5KaV3hTECoWdxYzuBoGA6RX_E8P9HxvTtkBkgngL2GWccHLiKaeEDjmKFz3sbHluru9AJswtNt5xVUDmSkAEmg86iou7QSYpiXP1rjxN2_zjHovCz1HiIapFDo87BGAs/s1600/cars_2.jpg"][/img] [img alt="Interior" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LmMIGfZZR6JDXTGjwC8PlwlGhaBJNPLGvgNSXbZMmUyPQPlYwdUtBfXQXvsy1nTqg4kkvDSl8KfjtYJONY2D2Q2o4XU8-dbpd0CnWmaMJObQk0jUo3nyYE7RSnv_t-SG99TlyjxtLUY/s1600/cars_4.jpg"][/img] [img alt="Wedding" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNG1xW8plNfcQtIeLv0Iug8NcVfKds9DsayZeWy5MkhxYeYttuVytEWqXJ9mmrOL9draNdGJieh-3v4CFgrYyXi53_spI-8MzuzavNUasUVivgYDJAertv_rGCVai4Xsl3TSJEu0iKGkY/s1600/cars_5.jpg"][/img] [img alt="fashion" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pmOWl8dtFxJ1J8M9wbYiCjbXn3nMaOmLQxAwaSbzAyzxIRc3aYzli-uIwwEBGho7fiCH0miAcgmrXTMJ8tyCXpD_ywkKM1BlGLUNSoegk5N6IRaF0KQpHJkPnuAWEGwkVMcf_3lteUY/s1600/cars_6.jpg"][/img] [img alt="flower" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWhyphenhyphentmkwifn87_-Ij7itsiYuNLlo1eeWJbQiPakdEqjnO_TPAnwyzkPUvGP6Cn8rFvH0-MddRDEjgcxfulIr_hyphenhyphen2wcbGygqJrvsKkyewnHVlaTD7UcDiJVW_oBg2thLoG0wVqMPyvUkE/s1600/cars_7.jpg"][/img] [/bgallery]
With much interest I sat watching him. Savage though he was, and hideously marred about the face—at least to my taste—his countenance yet had a something in it which was by no means disagreeable. You cannot hide the soul. Through all his unearthly tattooings, I thought I saw the traces of a simple honest heart; and in his large, deep eyes, fiery black and bold, there seemed tokens of a spirit that would dare a thousand devils. And besides all this, there was a certain lofty bearing about the Pagan, which even his uncouthness could not altogether maim. He looked like a man who had never cringed and never had had a creditor. Whether it was, too, that his head being shaved, his forehead was drawn out in freer and brighter relief, and looked more expansive than it otherwise would, this I will not venture to decide; but certain it was his head was phrenologically an excellent one. It may seem ridiculous, but it reminded me of General Washington's head, as seen in the popular busts of him. It had the same long regularly graded retreating slope from above the brows, which were likewise very projecting, like two long promontories thickly wooded on top. Queequeg was George Washington cannibalistically developed.

Spotify launching Top 50 charts

Whilst I was thus closely scanning him, half-pretending meanwhile to be looking out at the storm from the casement, he never heeded my presence, never troubled himself with so much as a single glance; but appeared wholly occupied with counting the pages of the marvellous book. Considering how sociably we had been sleeping together the night previous, and especially considering the affectionate arm I had found thrown over me upon waking in the morning, I thought this indifference of his very strange. But savages are strange beings; at times you do not know exactly how to take them. At first they are overawing; their calm self-collectedness of simplicity seems a Socratic wisdom. I had noticed also that Queequeg never consorted at all, or but very little, with the other seamen in the inn. He made no advances whatever; appeared to have no desire to enlarge the circle of his acquaintances. All this struck me as mighty singular; yet, upon second thoughts, there was something almost sublime in it. Here was a man some twenty thousand miles from home, by the way of Cape Horn, that is—which was the only way he could get there—thrown among people as strange to him as though he were in the planet Jupiter; and yet he seemed entirely at his ease; preserving the utmost serenity; content with his own companionship; always equal to himself. Surely this was a touch of fine philosophy; though no doubt he had never heard there was such a thing as that. But, perhaps, to be true philosophers, we mortals should not be conscious of so living or so striving. So soon as I hear that such or such a man gives himself out for a philosopher, I conclude that, like the dyspeptic old woman, he must have "broken his digester."

As I sat there in that now lonely room; the fire burning low, in that mild stage when, after its first intensity has warmed the air, it then only glows to be looked at; the evening shades and phantoms gathering round the casements, and peering in upon us silent, solitary twain; the storm booming without in solemn swells; I began to be sensible of strange feelings. I felt a melting in me. No more my splintered heart and maddened hand were turned against the wolfish world. This soothing savage had redeemed it. There he sat, his very indifference speaking a nature in which there lurked no civilized hypocrisies and bland deceits. Wild he was; a very sight of sights to see; yet I began to feel myself mysteriously drawn towards him. And those same things that would have repelled most others, they were the very magnets that thus drew me. I'll try a pagan friend, thought I, since Christian kindness has proved but hollow courtesy. I drew my bench near him, and made some friendly signs and hints, doing my best to talk with him meanwhile. At first he little noticed these advances; but presently, upon my referring to his last night's hospitalities, he made out to ask me whether we were again to be bedfellows. I told him yes; whereat I thought he looked pleased, perhaps a little complimented.

The Celtics delivered a nice pack

The Celtics delivered a nice pack

I found myself lying prone upon a bed of yellowish, mosslike vegetation which stretched around me in all directions for interminable miles. I seemed to be lying in a deep, circular basin, along the outer verge of which I could distinguish the irregularities of low hills.

It was midday, the sun was shining full upon me and the heat of it was rather intense upon my naked body, yet no greater than would have been true under similar conditions on an Arizona desert. Here and there were slight outcroppings of quartz-bearing rock which glistened in the sunlight; and a little to my left, perhaps a hundred yards, appeared a low, walled enclosure about four feet in height. No water, and no other vegetation than the moss was in evidence, and as I was somewhat thirsty I determined to do a little exploring.

Springing to my feet I received my first Martian surprise, for the effort, which on Earth would have brought me standing upright, carried me into the Martian air to the height of about three yards. I alighted softly upon the ground, however, without appreciable shock or jar. Now commenced a series of evolutions which even then seemed ludicrous in the extreme. I found that I must learn to walk all over again, as the muscular exertion which carried me easily and safely upon Earth played strange antics with me upon Mars.

[bgallery] [img alt="other fashion" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNG1xW8plNfcQtIeLv0Iug8NcVfKds9DsayZeWy5MkhxYeYttuVytEWqXJ9mmrOL9draNdGJieh-3v4CFgrYyXi53_spI-8MzuzavNUasUVivgYDJAertv_rGCVai4Xsl3TSJEu0iKGkY/s1600/cars_5.jpg"][/img] [img alt="Interior" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_pmOWl8dtFxJ1J8M9wbYiCjbXn3nMaOmLQxAwaSbzAyzxIRc3aYzli-uIwwEBGho7fiCH0miAcgmrXTMJ8tyCXpD_ywkKM1BlGLUNSoegk5N6IRaF0KQpHJkPnuAWEGwkVMcf_3lteUY/s1600/cars_6.jpg"][/img] [img alt="Wedding" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWhyphenhyphentmkwifn87_-Ij7itsiYuNLlo1eeWJbQiPakdEqjnO_TPAnwyzkPUvGP6Cn8rFvH0-MddRDEjgcxfulIr_hyphenhyphen2wcbGygqJrvsKkyewnHVlaTD7UcDiJVW_oBg2thLoG0wVqMPyvUkE/s1600/cars_7.jpg"][/img] [img alt="fashion" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LmMIGfZZR6JDXTGjwC8PlwlGhaBJNPLGvgNSXbZMmUyPQPlYwdUtBfXQXvsy1nTqg4kkvDSl8KfjtYJONY2D2Q2o4XU8-dbpd0CnWmaMJObQk0jUo3nyYE7RSnv_t-SG99TlyjxtLUY/s1600/cars_4.jpg"][/img] [img alt="flower" src=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGziuZGltpwB5KaV3hTECoWdxYzuBoGA6RX_E8P9HxvTtkBkgngL2GWccHLiKaeEDjmKFz3sbHluru9AJswtNt5xVUDmSkAEmg86iou7QSYpiXP1rjxN2_zjHovCz1HiIapFDo87BGAs/s1600/cars_2.jpg"][/img] [/bgallery]

Instead of progressing in a sane and dignified manner, my attempts to walk resulted in a variety of hops which took me clear of the ground a couple of feet at each step and landed me sprawling upon my face or back at the end of each second or third hop. My muscles, perfectly attuned and accustomed to the force of gravity on Earth, played the mischief with me in attempting for the first time to cope with the lesser gravitation and lower air pressure on Mars.

I was determined, however, to explore the low structure which was the only evidence of habitation in sight, and so I hit upon the unique plan of reverting to first principles in locomotion, creeping. I did fairly well at this and in a few moments had reached the low, encircling wall of the enclosure.

There appeared to be no doors or windows upon the side nearest me, but as the wall was but about four feet high I cautiously gained my feet and peered over the top upon the strangest sight it had ever been given me to see.

The roof of the enclosure was of solid glass about four or five inches in thickness, and beneath this were several hundred large eggs, perfectly round and snowy white. The eggs were nearly uniform in size being about two and one-half feet in diameter.

Five or six had already hatched and the grotesque caricatures which sat blinking in the sunlight were enough to cause me to doubt my sanity. They seemed mostly head, with little scrawny bodies, long necks and six legs, or, as I afterward learned, two legs and two arms, with an intermediary pair of limbs which could be used at will either as arms or legs. Their eyes were set at the extreme sides of their heads a trifle above the center and protruded in such a manner that they could be directed either forward or back and also independently of each other, thus permitting this queer animal to look in any direction, or in two directions at once, without the necessity of turning the head.

The ears, which were slightly above the eyes and closer together, were small, cup-shaped antennae, protruding not more than an inch on these young specimens. Their noses were but longitudinal slits in the center of their faces, midway between their mouths and ears.

There was no hair on their bodies, which were of a very light yellowish-green color. In the adults, as I was to learn quite soon, this color deepens to an olive green and is darker in the male than in the female. Further, the heads of the adults are not so out of proportion to their bodies as in the case of the young.

Aye Car-umba!

I don't drive very often. I prefer to live in a place where I can walk or take the bus to where I need to go. However, sometimes it's a necessary evil. When I say evil, I say this because I have not had the best luck with cars. This may be due to the fact that I usually have an older car. Since I don't want to spend money to buy a new car, instead I spend money fixing an old one. I guess you have to choose and this is what I have chosen.

I am talking about this because my car broke down on Monday. I probably use my car once a week, usually to meet up with my friend for a walk (she lives about 45 minutes from me, so we tend to meet somewhere in the middle). I know this is ironic, driving somewhere to get exercise, but sometimes it's fun to try new places where the bus can't go. This time, however, I was on my way back to Oakland to pick up some stuff to take to Santa Cruz. After a stop along the way, I was getting back on the freeway and it just sputtered and died (on the on ramp). So I called AAA. I am getting to be pretty good at dealing with breakdowns, as I have had several over the years, some better than others.

Mid 90s: I get my first car. It's old. The starter stops working, but luckily if I park on a hill, I can pop the clutch. This leads to my profound knowledge of every hill/slant/bump in my hometown. When there is no hill, my friends help me push my very heavy car far enough to pop the clutch. This leads to me not having any more friends. I start leaving the car running when I go into stores (yes, you can do this in my hometown). I finally end up taking out the starter myself THREE times and having it re-lathed three times. This is quite costly, even though I have done the work myself. Finally we find out that the part that was needed was a tiny piece near the starter that costs mere dollars.

Late 90s, same car: I am driving to my friend's house for NYE and I break down on the Sacramento causeway due to overheating. This was when I didn't have a cell phone. Several people call 911 because they think I am on fire. Thank goodness they do, because I have the firemen call me a tow truck.

Mid 2000s: A different car. Still old. I am commuting from Sacramento to San Francisco and the car decides to call it quits on the Bay Bridge right AT the toll booth. People are honking and giving me the finger. On the plus side, the tow truck comes VERY fast. Also I save $5 on bridge tolls.

Present Day: About a month ago, I went to use the car for my once a week jaunt and it wouldn't start. I know a couple of things about cars, mostly that (a) it was not a problem with the battery, (b) it was not a problem with the starter and (c) I was not out of gas. As soon as the AAA guy comes, he asks me if the car is out of gas. I wonder if some people are unsure of the answer, because the guy that came to get me on Monday asked the same question. 

One of my many friends

Basically from 2000 to present day, I have made do with public transportation, my feet and a rental car for work. So I haven't had any problems. Now I am back to having a car and back to having problems. I am on a first name basis with the mechanic, who is actually awesome. I also am very adept at making small talk with tow truck drivers, since I often have to ride with them to the mechanic. Monday's driver was a very nice man and it was a pleasure to spend 45 minutes hanging out with him. However, I have already used 2 out of 3 of my allotted AAA calls, so I am hoping to get the problem resolved quickly and to not have it happen again! Every time I break down, I am trying to get somewhere! (ha)  

Do you often have car trouble? Have you ever tried to fix your own car? Have you ever ridden in the tow truck with the driver?

Car Talk

Car Talk has dual meanings for me. First I am going to talk to you about the radio show on NPR. If you haven’t listened to Car Talk, you should. You can download one free every week as a podcast on iTunes, or listen to it on NPR; I think it is on Saturdays, but I am not positive, as I usually just listen to it as a podcast. Anyway, whether or not you like, or have, cars, you will love the sassy attitude and corny jokes that Click and Clack provide for you each week. Two Italian guys from Boston, they are funny, witty and they actually do know a bit about cars.

This brings me to the second subject:  My car. I have a super old car. It runs great, but there is only one problem. About 10 years ago, a lady hit me in the front drivers side and it dented the fender and smashed out the headlight housing and bent back the hood a little. Right afterward, I moved to San Francisco and didn’t need a car anyway, so I never fixed it. I put it on the front lawn in the driveway at my parent’s house and left it, not knowing if I would need it or not.

So, now I am trying to decide if it is worth fixing OR if I should just scrap it and go and buy another used car somewhere else. I really don’t know. It does run great. However, it is a diesel, which is good for mileage but bad for the environment. The interior is nice; I had just put a rebuilt engine in it right before the accident; all the power windows work. It is not a super crappy old car. The only thing wrong with it is that it has a big dent. Oh, and it’s a 4 cylinder and barely makes it up hills! But I can live with that.

It will probably cost a couple of thousand (hopefully less, but that’s a generous estimate) to get it back on the road again.

What should I do? Also, do you listen to or like Car Talk?


NOTE: This is a post for the A-Z blogfest. C is for Car. You can find others below.

A is for A Day.
B is for Bookmark.