Johnson tweeted that the government was committed

“Conservative Brexiteers know they have lost the intellectual debate and now appear to be engaging in a witch-hunt. Theresa May must condemn this letter and clarify why this information was being sought by a government whip. It is vital that the government makes clear that universities are free to teach whatever they see fit.”

The Universities and Colleges Union said it would push for the higher education minister, Jo Johnson, to strongly condemn the “McCarthyite” letter. Sally Hunt, the union’s general secretary, said: “This attempt by Chris Heaton-Harris to compile a hit-list of professors has the acrid whiff of McCarthyism about it and Jo Johnson must disown it in the strongest terms.
“Our universities and colleges must lead the way in defending academic freedom, where received wisdom can be challenged and controversial ideas debated.”
It is understood that few, if any, universities are likely to respond positively to the MP’s request for details of their teaching on Brexit, with many publicly saying they have no intention of complying.

 to protecting academic freedom, as criticism of Heaton-Harris’s letter mounted.

Caroline Lucas, co-leader of the Green party, has put down two parliamentary questions asking what the purpose of Heaton-Harris’s letter was.

posted by maycal at 17:49| 健康 | 更新情報をチェックする


one marker at Leadville

Fisher had already been embarrassed once when his entire team had crapped out. Now, thanks tohis own mistake, he found himself in the spotlight of a nationally televised Battle of the Sexes that,quite likely, he was going to lose. Ann’s best time at Leadville two years before was only thirtyminutes behind Victoriano’s 20:03, and she’d improved phenomenally since then. Look at WesternStates; she’d gotten ninety minutes faster in the space of just one year. There was no telling whatshe’d do when she came roaring into Leadville with a score to settle.

Plus, Ann was holding all the aces: Victoriano and Cerrildo weren’t coming back this year (theyhad corn to plant and had no time for another fun run), so Fisher had lost his two best racers.

Ann had won Leadville twice before, so unlike whatever newcomers Fisher had drafted, she hadthe huge advantage of knowing every bewildering twist in the trail. Miss,and you could wander in the dark for miles before getting back on course.

Ann also acclimated effortlessly to high altitude, and knew better than anyone alive how to analyzeand attack the logistical problems of a one-hundred-mile footrace. At its essence, an ultra is abinary equation made up of hundreds of yes/no questions: Eat now or wait? Bomb down this hill,or throttle back and save the quads for the flats? Find out what is itching in your sock, or push on?

Extreme distance magnifies every problem (a blister becomes a blood-soaked sock, a declinedPowerBar becomes a woozy inability to follow trail markers), so all it takes is one wrong answerto ruin a race. But not for honor-student Ann; when it came to ultras, she always aced her quizzes.

In short: thumbs up to the Tarahumara for being amazing amateurs, but this time, they weremeeting the top pro in the business (literally; Ann was now a hired gun backed by Nike money).

The Tarahumara had their brief, shining moment as Leadville champions; now they were comingback as underdogs.

Which explained the guys in the wizard capes.
posted by maycal at 13:00| http://iksog.hautetfort.com/ | 更新情報をチェックする


between his ram’s horns

its bright steel point winked in the sunlight. He’s going to be impaled, she thought... as the eunuch spun sideways. And quick as the blink of an eye the horseman was beyond him, wheeling, raising the lance. Belwas made no move to strike at him. The Meereenese on the walls screamed even louder. “What is he doing?” Dany demanded.  “Giving the mob a show,” Ser Jorah said.  Oznak brought the horse around Belwas in a wide circle, then dug in with his spurs and charged again. Again Belwas waited, then spun and knocked the point of the lance aside. She could hear the eunuch’s booming laughter echoing across the plain as the hero went past him. “The lance is too long,” Ser Jorah said. “All Belwas needs do is avoid the point. Instead of trying to spit him so prettily, the fool should ride right over him.”  Oznak zo Pahl charged a third time, and now Dany could see plainly that he was riding past Belwas, the way a Westerosi knight might ride at an opponent in a tilt, rather than at him, like a Dothraki riding down a foe. The flat level ground allowed the charger to get up a good speed, but it also made it easy for the eunuch to dodge the cumbersome fourteen-foot lance jobs in china for foreigners

Meereen’s pink-and-white hero tried to anticipate this time, and swung his lance sideways at the last second to catch Strong Belwas when he dodged. But the eunuch had anticipated too, and this time he dropped down instead of spinning sideways. The lance passed harmlessly over his head. And suddenly Belwas was rolling, and bringing the razor-sharp arakh around in a silver arc. They heard the charger scream as the blade bit into his legs, and then the horse was falling, the hero tumbling from the saddle.  A sudden silence swept along the brick parapets of Meereen. Now it was Dany’s people who were screaming and cheering.  Oznak leapt clear of his horse and managed to draw his sword before Strong Belwas was on him. Steel sang against steel, too fast and furious for Dany to follow the blows Hong Kong events .

It could not have been a dozen heartbeats before Belwas’s chest was awash in blood from a slice below his breasts, and Oznak zo Pahl had an arakh planted right. The eunuch wrenched the blade loose and parted the hero’s head from his body with three savage blows to the neck. He held it up high for the Meereenese to see, then flung it toward the city gates and let it bounce and roll across the sand.  “So much for the hero of Meereen,” said Daario, laughing.  “A victory without meaning,” Ser Jorah cautioned. “We will not win Meereen by killing its defenders one at a time.”  “No,” Dany agreed, “but I’m pleased we killed this one.”  The defenders on the walls began firing their crossbows at Belwas, but the bolts fell short or skittered harmlessly along the ground. The eunuch turned his back on the steel-tipped rain, lowered his trousers, squatted, and shat in the direction of the city. He wiped himself with Oznak’s striped cloak, and paused long enough to loot the hero’s corpse and put the dying horse out of his agony before trudging back to the olive grove.  The besiegers gave him a raucous welcome as soon as he reached the camp deployment system.
posted by maycal at 12:39| http://iksog.hautetfort.com/ | 更新情報をチェックする




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