Initially announced back in April, Kanye West’s latest includes a collaboration effort alongside Jared Leto’s 30 Seconds to Mars, on the track Hurricane, set to be featured within the upcoming 30 Seconds to Mars album “This Is War.” The cut follows a familiar heartbreak sound from the band with Kanye’s assistance coming in an auto tune-infused performance. “This is War” drops on December 8th, 2009.

YEEZY!

30 Seconds To Mars feat. Kanye West – Hurricane

Guilty pleasures are kind of like Erectile Dysfunction, you want to talk about it with someone but the thought of admitting anything to anyone would bring upon you such embarrassment that showing your face amongst the same group of friends ever again would be nye impossible. But having two guilty pleasures collaborate to create a fantastic track is as bad as it gets. Enter Kanye West and 30 Seconds To Mars.

“Hurricane” is one of the singles that will be on 30STMs’ upcoming release This Is War. The track features an auto-tuned West intermingle amongst Leto’s strained voice. This is the best that I’ve heard Leto’s voice sound in a while and the whole thing mixes together amazingly well.

I fully expect to get an email from EMI any moment requiring that I cease and desist the sharing of this track so get it while you can. When this track gets ripped down you can use the video below to hear the song.

This Is War is out December 5th via EMI.

Graduating To A Red Planet

So, Kanye linked up with 30 Seconds To Mars (Yeah, actor Jared Leto’s band) on this track called “Hurricane” and to be pretty honest…it’s dope!  Kanye’s ad-libs and verses are more “808’s” than “Graduation”, but it works.  The subject matter would hit home to anyone who is or was in a emotional rollercoaster of a relationship and the fact that it’s a rock song brings out some frustrated energy. 

Take a listen or download…

30 Seconds To Mars – Hurricane (Featuring Kanye West)

Bryceness – Mr. Not-So-Nice Guy

Florida Beach

The 2009 hurricane season officially ends November 30. This hurricane season fits the mold of the long term averages. For the 2009 season there were 10 named storms of which 3 became hurricanes and of those 2 major hurricanes. A category 3 or higher on the Saffir_Simpson scale is considered major.

In the Atlantic basin, long term averages show that there are about 10 named storms of which 6 become hurricanes and 3 of those major hurricanes. Since 1995 there has been a major upswing in tropical cyclone activity. During this period there has been an average of 15 named storms of which 8 became hurricanes and 4 of those major hurricanes.

The return of El Nino was the likely cause in the decrease in tropical cyclone activity, especially affecting the number of hurricanes that formed. The El Nino causes an increase in wind shear which creates a hostile environment for hurricane development in gerneral.

Rich Johnson – Tropicalweather.net

More about Me…
Expert Hurricane Forecasts
Tropicalweather.net
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Beach water temps

Check out new music from hurricane and Kanye West. Pretty Dope

Download

you bet your ass the only reason this shit excuse for a band is getting a post is because of kanye. it sounds pretty much like what you’d expect. electronics, autotune, jared leto, etc. definitely worth a listen, if only the one time. 30stm’s this is war comes out…well, who gives a shit reallly.

download:

30 seconds to mars – hurricane (ft. kanye west)

- panda

Good Shit.

Each year, my side of the family holds an early Christmas celebration. We do this so everyone can attend without having to “choose sides” each holiday. And every year the adults participate in a gift exchange. Each person brings one gift and we play “the stealing game,” swapping presents strategically, trying to end up with our favorite at the end of the game.

This year, we have a “rules change” due to the Copeland’s gift card I always bring. Now, a gift can only be “stolen” three times and it is no longer eligible to be taken away from the third person that “captures” it. My family implemented this rule because the game would never end due to the “traveling Copeland’s card” that made it from one person to another all night long!

I think the final straw came last year when our cousin and sister-in-law got in a lively discussion about who wanted the gift card more and kept prompting their husbands to steal the gift card back on their behalves.

After a few rounds, my brother-in-law refused to steal the Copeland’s card and took the last gift under the tree, thereby ending the game. The look my sister-in-law gave him was unmistakable, but the gift he chose was from my wife, and was another Copeland’s gift card! We knew how popular it was so we each chose it as our gift that year. The evening went on with merriment and the two did laugh and make up. I know my sister-in-law is using hers to order our Party Pans with Green Beans with Ham, Macaroni and Cheese, and the Penthouse Salad. It’ll save her oven and refrigerator space on the big day and take a lot of hassle out of cooking for such a big crowd. Our cousin on the other hand, intends to use it after the holidays to treat herself and her family to the New Orleans Jazz Brunch Buffet as a “made it through another round of holidays” present to themselves.

I love giving the gift everyone loves to receive. It tickles me that after years of holiday misses, I have finally found something people truly enjoy and appreciate. This year, I’m placing it in a big box weighted down with something to throw the gift shakers, maybe a re-gifted Snuggie® or something that they’d never guess was a Copeland’s gift card in disguise. I can’t wait to show up with the prized gift. Let the games begin!

What’s the best gift you’ve ever given or received? Did you know Copeland’s gift

I feel really bad right now, or just a little. Reason? Well listening to a certain bands new album that have leaked. I’m in love with a song called Hurricane and I don’t give a shit what people say, but I do like Kanye West’s part in it. Too bad he got cut out from the original album. In all honesty I think Hurricane is the strongest track on the entire album.

Where is your God?
Do you remember the day all the lies you told to form myself?
Tell me would you kill to prove you’re right?

Spotted at nahright

From rock group 30 Seconds To Mars’ This Is War (12/8) album.

Download – 30 Seconds To Mars feat. Kanye West – Hurricane

I can’t say I am a huge fan of 30 Seconds to Mars of Jared Leto, although he was pretty funny in Lord of War, but this track with kanYe is not bad. It is pretty emo by my standards, and it kind of goes along with kanYe’s 808s theme. This track was recorded when he was going through his autotune stage earlier this year, so this may be a step back for you if you don’t like kanYe using autotune. This is off 30 Seconds to Mars’ upcoming album This is War that releases next month on December 4, 2009.

[Download]

I’m incredibly broken right now. but the cry of my heart is brokenness. [weird, huh?]  I want to be broken more. I want to be more Christ-like. I need Him like a hurricane. To tear my walls down.

I want to be broken. I want the thunder, wind, and rain of God to come crashing down on me. I want Him to break me and mend me. I want Him to demolish me and make beauty out of the pieces. I don’t want to have anything but Him to cling to.

And this isn’t because I’m addicted to pain or anything. In fact, I hate pain.  I hate pain. Emotional, physical, and spiritual. BUT I love God. And I’m willing for Him to break me. I want Him to break me. I want to be molded by Him. I want His perfect love.

I realize the weight of this prayer. It is intense. It shouldn’t be something I’m asking for lightly. And it isn’t. I don’t want to be an agent of Coop. I want to be an agent of God. I need God to be my focus, not others or myself. I don’t want anything but Him. But I really do want Him. And I really want Him to break me so He can break me in to who He wants me to be. I want Him to give me His eyes, His heart, His ears, His love. I feel like I’m clinging on to too much. To a very negative self-image. To pain.  To hope in things besides God. To ambitions. To grudges. To wounds. To bruises. To memories. To lost friends. To broken relationships.

I want to be broken and renewed. I want God to come in like a hurricane. I want to see Him more clearly. I want to be able to love Him more deeply. I want Him to fit in my heart where He belongs. In my God-shaped hole. I want to be broken and healed. I want to be freed through brokenness. I don’t want my will. I want His way.

And if You are the war
Let me be the casualty
Til Im Yours alone

He can see what’s going on soooooooooooooo much better. I want to be broken in accordance with the plans he has for me.

shatter me and mend me,

coop

He awakes to the contortion of palm trees. The salty air singes his nose hairs, the sound of thunder nearby shakes his bed and the almost imperceptible flashes of lighting in the morning sun ring ominous for things to come. He cautiously steps to the window, looks Westward, sees the pitch black clouds rolling in. A ghoulish silence sweeps the land. Trouble is on the way. Hurriedly he closes all but one of the shutters. In red velvet slippers and a tattered blue robe, he runs down the stairs to the kitchen, throws open the cupboards, grabs the hammer and a box of nails, and heads into the garage. He grabs the plywood planks by the armful, opens the door, throws them outside. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. It is near.

All the wood is gone now and it won’t  be enough. He knows this and must now choose his best approach to save his possessions of 55 years: his late wife’s photos, his daughter’s school and music awards, the records that his good friend gave him as a graduation present from high school, his diaries. Whereas every impulse in his body is yelling for him to flee, he must remain, cannot outrun it this time for it is but minutes away and it will blanket this country.

Frantically, he is running through that early morning air, wood planks in his left hand, hammer in right. Silver nails stick out of his pursed lips like porcupine quills. His heart pounds against his chest. The present calmness of the setting unnerves him, he looks over the increasing swells of the ocean, sees the rain pouring down in ashen sheets. “Maybe 30 minutes,” he thinks to himself.

One by one, the planks are thrown up, pounded into the side of his house, over the windows, over the doors. He is building his fort, constructing his shell, fashioning his coffin. The wood is gone, windows still remain unboarded. The water will enter these windows en masse once the windows have been shattered, the chorus will sing of destruction. He moves his most precious possessions to the back room where there are no windows, places the items as high as possible, far away from the waves that will fill his home. The sweat rolls off his forehead, drips slowly, methodically into his eyes. He is blinded momentarily, wipes it away, continues.

The humidity has risen. The thick air and whipping winds speak tongues through the gaps in the planks lining his walls. Sewage and sulfur waft through his home. He looks out the one open window–the pitchy billows gather force. Lightly, rain droplets fall, get slammed into the straining glass, blurring his vision of what is to come. The palm tree leaves peel back, rip off, sail through the air and slap into the side of his house. Rolling waves from earlier in the morning now pace violently back and forth on the rocky beaches awaiting entry.

He hears the thunder, sees the lightning at the same time. He has but minutes. He has not prayed since his wife had died but he begins now. In the distance near the horizon he sees it and his stomach drops, his knees give out, he falls to the ground below and has trouble breathing.

He thought it was a cloud but he knows it is not. It is a wave, as tall as a skyscraper, obsidian and pernicious and it is coming his way. Downstairs a window shatters, above his head he hears the planks squealing, the nails beginning to pull out. The palm trees are dead now, the beach upturned. He cannot hear anything but the deafening roar of the winds. The rain sounds like pebbles riddling the sides of the house. All his past enemies are here now at his doorstep, all his mistakes and regrets present. He will be carried away tonight and he is not ready.

In a ball on the moist carpet, he holds himself tightly and wishes he just had more time. And it is here.

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On the second Saturday in November I stood atop Winslow Hill and imagined myself as an autumn leaf, vulnerable, light as a feather, about to be blown away into yonder.  With hurricane force winds blasting in from the sea, the whole of Bowleaze Cove was a bubbling mass of white water.  As I tried to photograph the scene, with just a fraction of zoom lens protruding, my camera bucked and weaved like a rebellious stallion while the wind and the rain took its revenge on me.

Later that day I went to worship once again at the awesome reality of Chesil Beach in a force 10 when the waves provide the thunder and the spray the lightning.  Behind me the valley was brimming with rain and hunkering down for the worst storm of the year.

Three days later and I’m strolling due south across the centre of the valley.  The dogs are hunting and quartering in front of me.  On my left the deep shadows are playing games in amongst the strip lynchets.  On my right a wondrous and idyllic tableau is formed by the White Horse and a field full of sheep.  Underfoot is sticky and soggy as the rainwater drains down from the hill.  Ahead of me the A353 snakes across the lip of the valley and I wonder when the next motorcyclist will be severely injured up there.  It happens on a fortnightly basis and what does the Highway Authority do?  Absolutely nothing of course.  Dorset County Council sits on its fat, collective, complacent backside while young people are grotesquely mutilated on dangerous roads.  It is nothing short of blatant, inexcusable negligence.

So while the valley is a cure for many of the stresses and strains of everyday life, it is not apart from them.  In fact, I make a plea to all driving south down the A353 to look left towards the sea.  Paradise Valley is far too distracting.

Up on the hill, the yellow gorse flowers are back and I’m marvelling again at the hardiness of the sheep.  When Capone, Carla and I go up there for an hour and a half we come back and spend the rest of the day in heated shelter.  Recently, we’ve had as long a spell of consistently high winds as I can remember.  I hate to think what it must be like for those sheep at 3 o’clock in the morning!

In an hurrah to the height of the pheasant season, this morning Carla demonstrated the superiority of her nose and hunting skills.

We climbed up and over the hump that sits on the northern shoulder of White Horse Hill.  Coming down the far side is a favourite place for deer but Carla hunted high and low to no avail.

Out into the main field where the stubbl;e is thick from the last crop of barley and suddenly she’s put up a hen pheasant, fluttering back up to the hump.  Then there are three breaking from cover, another back up the hump and two curling round towards me.  The third is rising, screaming, soaring as I swing right through it and see a clear 20 feet of lead before I pull the trigger.

Another is up quartering me from right to left, accelerating and rising, actually beneath me due to the lie of the land but tumbled cleanly out of the air as another pair break right and the last one falls to my second barrel.  Carla looks bright, fulfilled and chuffed to bits.

Of course no dogs, birds or people were injured in the making of this film that plays only on the ultimate high definition, widescreen inside your head.  Everything except the birds and the dog were imaginary!

By Clare Boston

Forecasts for the 2009 hurricane season were wide ranging earlier this year, from an active season to a near-normal or below average one.  In reality, 2009 remained much quieter than in a number of recent years, getting off to the slowest start for 17 .  This has been down to a number of factors, but is most likely due to El Niño, which warms surface waters and slows the wind shear required to generate tropical storms.

This quiet  season has caused many people to question the link between hurricane intensity and climate change.  However, events of one particular year, or even a number of years, may not be representative of a more long term trend and therefore cannot be used as evidence for global warming or cooling.

Marshall Shepherd and Thomas Knutson discuss the debate on the linkage between global warming and hurricane activity in an article in Geography Compass.  Research has focussed on the roles of anthropogenic forcing and natural variability in the recent increasing trend in hurricane intensity.  The article highlights the need for significantly more observations, such as sea surface temperatures and vertical wind shear, alongside more modelling of the role of these factors, before the links between global warming and hurricanes can be fully understood.

Read the National Geographic article

Read the article in Metro International

National Hurricane Center website

Read Shepherd and Knutsen (2007). The current debate on the linkage between global warming and hurricanes. Geography Compass.

When you live in an area that is plagued by natural disasters on a regular basis, you find out who you can turn to for assistance. My family was in Florida when a hurricane did millions of dollars of damage  to the majority of the state. FEMA was supposed to be providing help. However, they were days late and past the downed power lines waiting for families to risk their lives to come to them. The Red Cross came to us!

We were living in a mobile home community right off the highway. Our home was old and falling apart as it was. My father-in-law had just had his new trailer placed on the pad a few doors down. It hadn’t even passed inspection yet. We were all living in this shell of a house when the storm came. The walls rattled and shook. The windows leaked. The doors leaked.

As the wind and the rain let up from one of the bands blowing past, we ran to the other trailer. I carried my 4 year old son, covering his head from anything that might fly through the air at 60 -70 mph.  We made it safely to the other, more structurally sound home.

The water had been hooked up, so we could flush the toilet sparingly.  But the sewage lines were not set up right and our tub regurgitated the sewage. We had to boil water. Our refrigeration was gone, so much of our food was too. The nights were long and uneasy.

After the storm passed, we ventured out to see the damage. Our neighbors roofs were collapsed or peeled off the structure. We wandered over to our place to assess the damage. We were horrified to see our insulation strung across the yard. We had lost two whole walls of our bedroom. The awning was nowhere to be found.

The power lines were down across the streets in all directions. We were trapped in the trailer park untill they got it cleared up. No telling when that would be. We were on the outskirts of Ft. Lauderdale.

After the power company got the power cut off for the downed lines, we ventured out to get gas. No filling stations had any. The ones that did, had lines 1-2 miles long. We found out that FEMA had a relief station at the park down the street from out house. We headed there only to find out that they were not set up to help yet.

A couple days passed as we rationed our shrinking food supply. Then a neighbor knocked on our door and told us that the Red Cross was there by the pool giving out food and water. We went down there, and sure enough they brought the help to us!

They had a van full of water, MRE’s and hot meals.  We waited in line with the rest of our neighbors. They had enough for the whole park. They asked how many people we had, we told them there were 4 of us and they gave us 8 water bottles and four meals. They came back every day for 2 weeks, 3 times a day!  There was one day they had to go help another community, they asked if I could help them pass out the rest. With a humbled and dutiful wave rushing through me, I took the responsibility of following their lead.

So, I guess what I am trying to say is, support your Red Cross! They have been helping for more than a century. Help them continue helping us!