This Complete List Of The Sounds Albums And Songs presents the full discography of The Sounds studio albums. The band was first formed in 1968.  The group hails from the area of Helsingborg, Sweden. If you’re a fan of bands like Blondie or the Divinyls, The Sounds fit somewhere in between with a very fresh modern sound of their own. All these spectacular albums have been presented below in chronological order. We have also included all original release dates with each Sounds album as well as all original album covers. Every album by The Sounds listed below showcases the entire The post Complete List Of The Sounds Albums And Songs appeared first on ClassicRockHistory.com.

In India, a pair of police officers have reunited 104 children and minors with their families in just 9 months, the Times of India reports. Head constables Seema Devi and Suman Hooda of Delhi Police Outer North District, have been lauded for their accomplishment with the Anti-Human Trafficking Unit (ATHU). “We don’t have fixed duty […] The post 2 City Cops Reunite 104 Missing Kids with Their Families in India This Year appeared first on Good News Network.

Books cover reveal Revealing Awakened by Laura Elliott Awakened explores the extreme aftermath of induced global sleeplessness and the horrors of love amidst lost sanity… By Reactor | Published on November 26, 2024 Photo courtesy of Stuart Gresham Comment 0 Share New Share Photo courtesy of Stuart Gresham Awakened by Laura Elliott will be available June 10 2025 from Angry Robot Books. From an exciting new voice in horror comes the tense and surreal novel Awakened. Exploring the extreme aftermath of induced global sleeplessness and the horrors of love amidst lost sanity, this is a perfect read for fans of The Girl with All the Gifts and 28 Days Later.Funded by a benevolent but misguided billionaire, a group of scientists developed a neural chip to allow the population to turn off sleep. First used by the military, those fitted with the chip developed strengthen metabolism. In the space of a year, everyone had one. You could turn the chip off at will… until one day, you couldn’t. Deprived of the sanity that sleep brings, people quickly descended into madness, and the world changed—for the worse.Now, marooned in the Tower of London, the surviving scientists struggle to find a cure in a new world, caged in by the screams of the Sleepless. Consumed by guilt for her part in the initial experiments, Thea Chares longs to know what has happened to her mother, whose illness had been the focal point of her previous life. When two survivors, a man and a woman, stumble into the Tower, the seed of hope grows in the form of a new start. But all is not as it appears… the survivors display strange, dangerous habits and refuse to tell the scientists their names. As Thea finds herself inexplicably drawn to the man, life begins to spiral into a fever dream of hallucinations, violence and dark attraction, with a startlingly reveal waiting for them at daybreak.Awakened is a dreamlike and gripping novel that will have readers questioning what’s real and what’s steeped in surreal until the very end.  Cover design by Sarah O’Flaherty Buy the Book Awakened Laura Elliott Buy Book Awakened Laura Elliott Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget Laura Elliott is a journalist and writer on disability and health issues. Laura has ME and this has informed her writing and her career. She has written articles on disability and politics for The Guardian, The Metro, iNews and ByLine Times. Her stories have appeared in Strix Magazine, STORGY and Cloister Fox, and creative non-fic and essays in Boudicca Press: Disturbing the Body anthology, Monstrous Regiment: So Hormonal. but in the minutes before dawn there is peace in the Tower and this moment is all that there is, with a Traitors’ Gate view over the dead city and the river at rush and the ravens, the ravens splitting the fog on dark wings while the two goats bleat in the stable and Thane’s lamp is lit, a will-o’-the wisp at Lanthorn which rises through the wet air and grows, grows in my mind to become a beacon of roaring fire and a candle for the dead, the dead who walk and are sleepless and are everywhere and nowhere, and now when the sun rises over London the fog burns away slowly, slowly, and then all at once, raising the curtain on my holy moment and a day that smiles with its teeth March 2nd March I’ve been an insomniac all of my life, but I’m not Sleepless and I won’t become Sleepless, just as long as the chips that were put into their heads never get put into mine. There’s little chance of that, since I won’t put the machinery into my brain and neither will Edgar and neither will the Professor, and we’re the only three left who could. I don’t want to be Sleepless, but insomnia is a treasured friend and it keeps me company during the long, dark quiet, during the deepening hours in which only I’m alive and awake and only Mother is here as my witness. Mother, who lies in the spare room across the landing from mine, who sleeps on a double bed by the window just like mine, who has eyes that are just like mine and a smile that is just like mine, though I haven’t seen it for a long time. And perhaps there is something in this doubling that becomes clear to me only at night, when I walk from my door to hers and cross the threshold into this room of the sick, which, like all rooms of the sick, exists outside of time. Mother’s room doesn’t alter with the ticking of the clock, and nor does it respond to the rising and setting of the sun. It persists apart from these comforting rhythms, a pocket universe in which the body is the world and the world is the body, eternal. The streets beyond these walls could burn and the seas could rise, and she would lie here just as she always does, waiting for me to arrive. Perhaps—an unnerving thought—she doesn’t wait for me at all. Perhaps her waiting is a state I’ve imposed on her, and only I anticipate these nights spent together in peace. But anticipate them I do. The heavy velvet of the closed curtains. The dust that streaks them like moth tears, and the cardboard wrapped around the walls that I tape and tape in dubious configurations to protect her from the pain of sound. The darkness which has a texture, which grows substance and weight and form the longer I sit there in the chair by the side of her bed. I sit there in the night, and I feel the weight of gravity increase and draw down the darkness like a confectioner spinning sugar sculptures out of the absence of light. I sit there and I think. I think about sleep, and I think that, for once, I ought to try and tell you the truth. 4th March We moved into the Tower of London during the frantic summer of 2055. At the time, the city was glutting itself on an excess of industry, and on every street there rang a swarm of tramping footsteps and lowing bodies packed together like cattle for the market. London was in its final bloom, but the impending collapse was hidden by a last long gulp of plenty. Looking back, there was no sense of dread in the air and no subtle suggestion that a disaster was approaching. In those final years, the prevailing emotion was one of exuberance and energy. We let the monster swallow us, and we were happy as we were digested. Now expelled, that first summer has taken on a peculiar tone in my memory. Nostalgia colours the Tower’s walls in gold and the laboratory lights are dazzling, the contrast turned up so high that it hurts to look at too closely. If I close my eyes, I can still see us as we were—hastened, excited, flushed and fat with pride and purpose. A society of ignorants in bliss. Our most generous benefactor was the Anonymous Billionaire, he who had bought the historic site, repurposed it, and settled the Orex Corporation in its bowels. Our laboratory is still situated on the first floor of the White Tower, in vast and ancient rooms that were once the royal apartments. I arrived there this morning to find Edgar and Professor Galen already at work. Our three lines of workbenches had been pushed to the walls and the machinery covered in protective sheets. This left only a great open space, save for a single patient bay behind a green medical curtain that drew my gaze like a shroud. I watched the curtain, and I could almost convince myself that the curtain watched me. “Courage, dear heart,” the Professor said. “All great discoveries are difficult. Let us not cower at the first sign of hardship.” “She can’t help it,” Edgar told him. “She is a creature of pity.” He had dressed himself for the occasion in an embroidered waistcoat, a red cravat, and a bowler hat that Alison had unearthed in the warren of our extant storage. He reminded me less of the Lord he’d once been and more of a praying mantis, thin and wiry and creeping. Before we could begin, we were interrupted by the febrile whirr of the lift, and Maryam wheeled herself in. She didn’t acknowledge us, instead taking up a spot by the door with a pile of knitting in her lap and the air of someone at protest. “Doctor Bashir. It’s good of you to join us after all,” the Professor said. “Are you here to bear witness or are you participating today?” “We’re all participating in this, Michael, whether we wanted to or not.” “Does that mean we can count on your assistance?” Maryam twirled a skein of wool expertly around her wrist and shook her shoulders as though casting off a chill. “I’m here for Thea. The two of you can do whatever you want.” If the Professor was irritated by her dismissal, I wasn’t able to tell. He nonetheless affected an air of indifference and asked us if we were ready to start. The truth, if I’d have been able to tell it to him, was that I was stuck in a peculiar state of anticipation and revulsion. That the thought of the next few hours filled me with primal disgust, which had manifested itself as an intense need simply to get everything over with. I didn’t know how to explain that to him, so I merely nodded, and then Edgar clapped his hands together and our patient’s shrieking split the air. I wish now that I could describe the noise they make with any accuracy. I wish it because I am a scientist, and when a thing can be precisely described, it can at least be partially understood. The inability to quantify the sound, the utter failure of analogy, is almost as distressing as the sound itself. The pitch oscillates between ten and fifteen thousand hertz, swooping up and down the frequency scale every five seconds with a stridency that’s intensely painful. It clocks in at around 130 decibels, which is about the same level as a thunderclap. Perhaps that’s the analogy I’m looking for. They scream a violent grief like a thunderclap. But the screaming began—that was the point. The screaming began, and so we put our noise-cancelling headphones on, the Professor handed us all a computer tablet, and he typed on his own the words: Unto the breach. The projected screen on the wall behind him relayed the message, and Maryam retaliated with an image of a dog licking its own bollocks, which was impressive because I didn’t know the system could send pictures yet. The screaming continued, and I arranged my desk. I placed the laptop in the centre, then the A4 pad to the right. I had a pencil and two black pens, just in case one ran out, and I put the tablet next to those. Then I helped the Professor put on his surgical gloves and tied his robe more tightly at his waist. While this was happening, Edgar was setting up the video camera and placing the tripod next to my desk. It struck me that this meant our recordings would be from my perspective, and I didn’t know whether that made me feel powerful or afraid. All the while, Maryam knitted and watched us and said nothing. Is everyone ready? the Professor typed. Edgar had taken up his position by the curtain. In his bowler hat and waistcoat, he put me in mind of some wild conductor of a cabaret. I drew in a breath and nodded to the Professor, who nodded to Edgar, who looked to Maryam when her needles stopped moving. With a decided flourish, Lord Trevelyan stepped up to the curtain and drew it open. But it didn’t feel like a holy moment. It felt like a fall through the veil. Excerpted from Awakened © 2024 by Laura Elliott The post Revealing <i>Awakened</i> by Laura Elliott appeared first on Reactor.

From frightening decorations to haunted houses, bags full of candy, and creative costumes, it's probably fair to say that Halloween is one of the best days of the year. But even a century ago, people embraced the spooky spirit each Halloween, and after looking at these costumes and decorations, we might have a thing or two to learn from them. Schoolchildren look at each other with glee as they get... Source

Editor’s note: This is a lightly edited transcript of the accompanying video from professor Peter St. Onge. The Biden administration is handing President-elect Donald Trump a lit fuse on a $37 trillion debt bomb. Because they’ve added $12 trillion in debt over the past four years—more than we added in the first 220 years of the republic. In fact, we added a trillion in the past 100 days alone—an annual rate of three and a half trillion. Debt interest is already consuming 1 in 4 dollars you pay in taxes and is set to explode to $1.4 trillion. That’s interest alone. Last week, more than three dozen state financial officers—which is most of them—sent a letter to House Speaker Mike Johnson, R-La., expressing their “grave concerns about the national debt,” characterizing it, correctly, as a “threat to national security.” Finally, a security threat that’s not imaginary. That’s progress. The two big problems debt causes, aside from auctioning our nation for parts, is the stability of our financial system and the progressive replacement of the U.S. dollar as global reserve currency. Both of these are real: Our financial system is permanently bankrupt, thanks to fractional-reserve banking—where they lend money they don’t have. That’s paired with standing bailouts from the Fed and Treasury. We saw these last year and, of course, in 2008. At some point, the debt overwhelms it: There’s not enough buyers. Sending treasury rates soaring and destabilizing the entire Ponzi. If it gets bad enough, it threatens the dollar’s status as reserve currency—as the most used currency in the world. This reserve status shields Americans from the tens of trillions the Fed and banking system pumped out and exported over decades. They’re filling vaults from Saudi Arabia to Beijing. And if they sell—if that money comes flooding home—it would be like a tsunami up a canyon. We could see double-digit inflation for a decade. So, what’s the solution? The easy fix is Trump’s plan to grow the economy with massive deregulation and tax cuts that spur production. In other words, grow into the debt. The harder part is the cuts. Government spending has an army of powerful cronies and special interests defending it, armed with lawyers and mostly fiery protesters. Considering we’ve already got a $2 trillion deficit, these cuts would need to be massive just to balance the budget. Two trillion won’t happen overnight, but cutting a couple hundred billion in short order would do wonders to calm markets, stabilize the financial system, and show the world the debt can, in fact, be managed. So, what’s next? Crony banker Alexander Hamilton once said national debt is the price of liberty. Of course, he’s wrong. Government debt is the price of slavery to the administrative state that fleeces us for cronies. America’s richest ZIP codes surround Washington, D.C., a region unique for producing absolutely nothing. No Wall Street, no Silicon Valley, no Hollywood. Not even soybeans. It is a barren swamp inhabited by tax bandits who devour the country in a real-world Hunger Games. Balancing the budget is not science fiction. We did it in 1998 to 2001, when all it took was Bill Clinton reading the room of public opinion and agreeing to Newt Gingrich’s limits. Unlike 1998, small government Republicans now have all three branches of government. They have a president who fights. And they have the best minds in the nation on the Department of Government Efficiency. This may be our last, best hope to turn off the stove before the frog boils. We publish a variety of perspectives. Nothing written here is to be construed as representing the views of The Daily Signal. The post Last, Best Hope to Lasso National Debt? appeared first on The Daily Signal.

If you're tired of censorship and dystopian threats against civil liberties, subscribe to Reclaim The Net. The Brave Browser has unveiled an innovative privacy feature dubbed “Shred” in its latest iOS version 1.71, giving users the power to selectively erase their browsing data on a per-site basis. This tool provides an essential advantage for mobile users, particularly those concerned about the pervasive use of first-party cookies in paywall systems and usage limits that could lead to user tracking and data sharing with third parties. The Shred function distinguishes itself from other browsers by allowing the deletion of site-specific data without the collateral logout from other sites users often face. According to the Brave team, “Unlike similar features in other mobile browsers, Shred lets you delete data for a particular site with a single tap.” The announcement further highlights the convenience of not having to log out of all favored sites or keep a list of exceptions each time data needs to be erased. Users can access Shred in two ways: manually or automatically. The manual mode involves pressing the tabs button long to bring up a menu where the Shred option can be selected. Alternatively, for those preferring more automated solutions, Shred can be configured to activate automatically via the ‘Shields’ menu under Advanced Control. This setting allows the feature to activate when closing all tabs of a site or upon restarting the browser. In terms of functionality, activating Shred removes cookies, local storage data through private WebKit APIs, and network-related caches. This is part of Brave’s broader privacy strategy, which is complemented in other versions like Android and desktop with a “Forgetful Browsing” feature, set to align with Shred’s capabilities in future updates. If you're tired of censorship and dystopian threats against civil liberties, subscribe to Reclaim The Net. The post Brave Launches Shred Tool to Give iOS Users More Control Over Site Data appeared first on Reclaim The Net.

If you're tired of censorship and dystopian threats against civil liberties, subscribe to Reclaim The Net. Germany’s authorities continue to double down on their crusade against all manner of free speech on the internet: from the right of citizens to criticize them, to satirical content like memes. Instead of considering apologizing to a pensioner whose home was recently raided by law enforcement for an online post unflattering of his person, German Vice Chancellor Robert Habeck is now urging even stricter regulation of social media. And it’s clear what kind of regulation Habeck – who was referred to as “an idiot” in the post that got 64-year-old Stefan Niehoff in hot water with the prosecution – wants to see more of. The Green Party politician cited the EU’s controversial, sweeping censorship law, the Digital Services Act (DSA), as a tool that could be used to “regulate” algorithms used by social media. According to the German press, Habeck told the ARD broadcaster not only that he wouldn’t apologize but went on to try to explain – or, justify – why he filed a criminal complaint against the pensioner in the first place. Habeck suggested that being called an “idiot” was just the straw that broke the camel’s back; his grievance supposedly originates from a previous “racist” post by Niehoff. That’s not what the prosecutor said when they sent the police to the man’s home, however; only the post branding the high-ranked official as “idiot” was mentioned as the reason for the search – as it was allegedly intended “to defame Robert Habeck in general and to make his work as a member of the federal government more difficult.” In Germany, those found guilty of such offenses can end up in prison for up to three years, or be forced to pay a fine. Habeck mentioning a previous “racist” post, meanwhile, stems from the prosecution saying the pensioner “could be suspected of incitement to hatred” (but this was not the reason for sending the police to Niehoff’s home). If you're tired of censorship and dystopian threats against civil liberties, subscribe to Reclaim The Net. The post Germany Tightens Grip on Online Speech as Vice Chancellor Defends Arrest of Online Critic appeared first on Reclaim The Net.

BREAKING: Israel, Lebanon Sign 60-Day Cease-Fire?

Long before humans had a go, nature created a nuclear reactor in Oklo, Gabon.

Methanol is not meant for human consumption.