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GET READY......
For our group's second SCARE-A-THON!!! Beginning October 20, we will (in addition to our usual banter and ponderings and photos and stories) try and come up with scary banners, photos, videos, etc. to scare the beejeebers out of each other, all in good fun!
Oh, and the prize? A cybertrophy to hand on the wall!!!!!!!
Oh, and the prize? A cybertrophy to hand on the wall!!!!!!!
Sticky Message
ORBS DVD
I have the DVD about orbs that Baja so kindly sent to me. She said to post here to see who wants to watch it next.
The title of it is "ORBS The Veil is Lifting" and it is very interesting. Send me a PM and let me know who and where to send it.
Joyce
The title of it is "ORBS The Veil is Lifting" and it is very interesting. Send me a PM and let me know who and where to send it.
Joyce
Halloween game
scary view!!!
Now this is a view you don't want to see n an airplane!!!!
a href="http://s439.photobucket.com/ albums/qq116/meetoo33_2008/?action=view& amp;current=71534190.jpg" target="_blank">
a href="http://s439.photobucket.com/ albums/qq116/meetoo33_2008/?action=view& amp;current=71534190.jpg" target="_blank">
LOOK WHO'S HAUNTING THE HOUSE!
This was posted on a message community board with the following story. The Picture was taken of a home in Ravenna, Ohio. It was taken by the owners 14 year old son in May of 2008. It displays what appears to be a young girl in human form looking out the window. She seems to be wearing a blue outfit of some type. The owner and her son were the only ones home at the time and there are no younger children in the family. They have no idea why a young girl would show up in the window of the house. It's reported that the house also has a history of supernatural activity but never to the point of seeing an apparition, at least until this point. The house was built in the early 1930s.
Submitted by: Tipper
Original Photo

Close-up
Staff comments:
Apparently Tipper is not the actual owner of this photo, so I would ask if anyone out there knows the actual individual that took this photo, I would hope to hear from you. I would really like to know more information about this home and about the haunting.
Submitted by: Tipper
Original Photo

Close-up
Staff comments:
Apparently Tipper is not the actual owner of this photo, so I would ask if anyone out there knows the actual individual that took this photo, I would hope to hear from you. I would really like to know more information about this home and about the haunting.
Water Has Memory !
The guest on Coast to Coast AM, was really fantastic. He spoke about legiimate experimenmts done at several univerities around the world that are causing scientiusts to claim that water is instantaniously gather up information from elements like hydrogen from around the universe. They seem to have shown that changes in the hydrogen found in the sun (the sun is 93% hydrogen and 7% helium) can be detecdted immediately, without having to wait for the eight minutes that it takes sunlight to travel to the earth (at the speed of light). So if information can travel instantaneously around the universe (whereever water is) then it is possible to use this 'quantum' technigue to communicate with lifeforms anywhere, immediately. Also, poaitively charged water, just might have good affects when ingested into our bodis (we are 75% water, after all. Very intresting that legit scientists are the ones making these claims!
Disappearance
This is another of my favorites and won Honorable Mention last year.
WELCOME

Funerella.com - Scary pictures, gothic layouts, dark pictures, gothic myspace layouts
Welcome to the group indianprincess1. Glad you joined us ~ it's that time of year and things will get hot around here soon. Enjoy.
The Doctors Who Are Redefining Life and Death
This article is a follow-up to the one about when/what happens when we die. It brought up questions that I can't answer and made me wonder what I would do in a situation like this.
The Doctors Who Are Redefining Life and Death
Washington Post
By William Saletan
Sunday, October 5, 2008; Page B02
Think being the next president would be a brutal job? Imagine being a transplant surgeon. You can't tell the parents of a dying kid when to pull the plug, but you have to be there, ready, the minute he expires. You have to wait until he's dead, but not so long that his organs become useless. You can give him drugs to keep his organs healthy, but you mustn't technically revive him. And you can't remove and restart his heart until it's been declared kaput.
Pick up a recent issue of the New England Journal of Medicine, and you'll see the far edge of this tortured world. In the journal, doctors at Children's Hospital in Denver describe how they removed hearts from infants 75 seconds after they stopped. The infants were declared dead of heart failure, even as their hearts, in new bodies, resumed ticking.
Is this wrong? We like to think that moral lines are fixed and clear: My heart is mine, not yours, and you can't have it till I'm dead. But in medicine, lines move. "Dead" means irreversibly stopped, and stoppages are increasingly reversible. And when life support ends, says one bioethicist, "not using viable organs wastes precious life-saving resources" and "costs the lives of other babies." Failure to take body parts looks like lethal negligence.
How can we get more organs? By redefining death. First we coined "brain death," which let us take organs from people on ventilators. Then we proposed organ retrieval even if non-conscious brain functions persisted. Now we have "donation after cardiac death," the rule applied in Denver, which permits harvesting based on heart, rather than brain, stoppage.
But stoppage is complicated. There's no "moment" of death. Some transplant surgeons wait five minutes after the last heartbeat; others wait two. The Denver team waited 75 seconds, reasoning that no heart is known to have self-restarted after 60 seconds. Why push the envelope? Because every second counts. Mark Boucek, the doctor who led the Denver team, says that waiting even 75 seconds makes organs less useful.
So how can death be declared based on irreversible heart stoppage when the plan is to restart that heart in a new body? Boucek offers two answers. First, even if the heart resumes pumping in a new body, it couldn't have done so in the old one. (That used to be true, but today, hearts can be restarted by external stimulation well after two or even five minutes.) Second, Boucek says the heart is dead because the baby's parents have decided not to permit resuscitation. In other words, each family decides when its loved one is dead. In a commentary attached to the Denver report, another ethicist proposes extending this idea -- letting each family decide not just whether to resuscitate but also at what point organs can be harvested. Brain death? Cardiac death? Persistent vegetative state? Death is whatever you say it is.
Robert Truog, an ethicist who supports the Denver protocol, says this redefinition of death has gone too far. Let's accept that we're taking organs from living people and causing death in the process, he argues. This is ethical as long as the patient has "devastating neurologic injury" and has provided, through advance directive or a surrogate, informed consent to be terminated this way. We already let surrogates authorize removal of life support, he notes. Why not treat donations similarly? Traditional safeguards, such as the separation of the transplant team from the patient's medical team, will prevent abuse. And the public will accept the new policy since surveys suggest we're not hung up on whether the donor is dead.
But down that road lies even greater uncertainty. How devastating does the injury have to be? If death is vulnerable to redefinition, isn't "devastating" even more so? The same can be asked of "futility," the standard used by the Denver team to select donors. Is it safe to base lethal decisions on the ebb and flow of public opinion, particularly when the same surveys show confusion about death standards? And can termination decisions really be insulated from pressure to donate? Even if each family makes its own choice, aren't we loosening standards for termination precisely to get more organs?
Modern medicine has brought us tremendous power. Boundaries such as death, heart stoppage and ownership of organs have guided our moral thinking because they seemed fixed in nature. Now we've unmoored them. I'm a registered donor because I believe in the gift of life and think that the job of providing organs falls to each of us. So does the job of deciding when we can rightly take them.
human@slate.com
William Saletan is Slate's national correspondent.
The Doctors Who Are Redefining Life and Death
Washington Post
By William Saletan
Sunday, October 5, 2008; Page B02
Think being the next president would be a brutal job? Imagine being a transplant surgeon. You can't tell the parents of a dying kid when to pull the plug, but you have to be there, ready, the minute he expires. You have to wait until he's dead, but not so long that his organs become useless. You can give him drugs to keep his organs healthy, but you mustn't technically revive him. And you can't remove and restart his heart until it's been declared kaput.
Pick up a recent issue of the New England Journal of Medicine, and you'll see the far edge of this tortured world. In the journal, doctors at Children's Hospital in Denver describe how they removed hearts from infants 75 seconds after they stopped. The infants were declared dead of heart failure, even as their hearts, in new bodies, resumed ticking.
Is this wrong? We like to think that moral lines are fixed and clear: My heart is mine, not yours, and you can't have it till I'm dead. But in medicine, lines move. "Dead" means irreversibly stopped, and stoppages are increasingly reversible. And when life support ends, says one bioethicist, "not using viable organs wastes precious life-saving resources" and "costs the lives of other babies." Failure to take body parts looks like lethal negligence.
How can we get more organs? By redefining death. First we coined "brain death," which let us take organs from people on ventilators. Then we proposed organ retrieval even if non-conscious brain functions persisted. Now we have "donation after cardiac death," the rule applied in Denver, which permits harvesting based on heart, rather than brain, stoppage.
But stoppage is complicated. There's no "moment" of death. Some transplant surgeons wait five minutes after the last heartbeat; others wait two. The Denver team waited 75 seconds, reasoning that no heart is known to have self-restarted after 60 seconds. Why push the envelope? Because every second counts. Mark Boucek, the doctor who led the Denver team, says that waiting even 75 seconds makes organs less useful.
So how can death be declared based on irreversible heart stoppage when the plan is to restart that heart in a new body? Boucek offers two answers. First, even if the heart resumes pumping in a new body, it couldn't have done so in the old one. (That used to be true, but today, hearts can be restarted by external stimulation well after two or even five minutes.) Second, Boucek says the heart is dead because the baby's parents have decided not to permit resuscitation. In other words, each family decides when its loved one is dead. In a commentary attached to the Denver report, another ethicist proposes extending this idea -- letting each family decide not just whether to resuscitate but also at what point organs can be harvested. Brain death? Cardiac death? Persistent vegetative state? Death is whatever you say it is.
Robert Truog, an ethicist who supports the Denver protocol, says this redefinition of death has gone too far. Let's accept that we're taking organs from living people and causing death in the process, he argues. This is ethical as long as the patient has "devastating neurologic injury" and has provided, through advance directive or a surrogate, informed consent to be terminated this way. We already let surrogates authorize removal of life support, he notes. Why not treat donations similarly? Traditional safeguards, such as the separation of the transplant team from the patient's medical team, will prevent abuse. And the public will accept the new policy since surveys suggest we're not hung up on whether the donor is dead.
But down that road lies even greater uncertainty. How devastating does the injury have to be? If death is vulnerable to redefinition, isn't "devastating" even more so? The same can be asked of "futility," the standard used by the Denver team to select donors. Is it safe to base lethal decisions on the ebb and flow of public opinion, particularly when the same surveys show confusion about death standards? And can termination decisions really be insulated from pressure to donate? Even if each family makes its own choice, aren't we loosening standards for termination precisely to get more organs?
Modern medicine has brought us tremendous power. Boundaries such as death, heart stoppage and ownership of organs have guided our moral thinking because they seemed fixed in nature. Now we've unmoored them. I'm a registered donor because I believe in the gift of life and think that the job of providing organs falls to each of us. So does the job of deciding when we can rightly take them.
human@slate.com
William Saletan is Slate's national correspondent.
To start of the Scare-a-thon!
Here's my entry to the Scare-a-thon. It might not top the emporer's or isaac's wild entries but it will get us in the spirit. Pardon my pun!!!
Haunted Hill
Two orbs glowing
in the dead of night
shadows flickering
by the full moon light.
Black cat roving
down the ancient halls,
outside the window
an old screech owl calls.
Floorboards creaking
under unseen feet,
shutters rattling
to an unknown beat.
A scent of rose
fills the silent air,
a whisper is heard
yet no one is there.
A normal night
in the autumn chill
where spirits gather
up on Haunted Hill.
(dcl all rights 10/08)
Haunted Hill
Two orbs glowing
in the dead of night
shadows flickering
by the full moon light.
Black cat roving
down the ancient halls,
outside the window
an old screech owl calls.
Floorboards creaking
under unseen feet,
shutters rattling
to an unknown beat.
A scent of rose
fills the silent air,
a whisper is heard
yet no one is there.
A normal night
in the autumn chill
where spirits gather
up on Haunted Hill.
(dcl all rights 10/08)

