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This Box Contains One HO Scale Single Track Cut Stone Tunnel Portal for Your Model Railroad Layout from Woodland Scenics. Tunnel portals are the stone, concrete, or timber facings built at the entrances to tunnels. They hold back rocks and dirt from tunnel entrances and often are used in combination with retaining walls. FEATURES: This concrete tunnel portal is cast in high-density Hydrocal. Wide enough for one HO scale track to run through. This white cast is authentically detailed in appearance and texture. You can use this portal alone or in combination with retaining walls. Create ultimate scenic realism simply and economically. Ready for staining or painting right from the box. Easy to follow instructions for installation of portals. INCLUDES: One HO Scale Single Track Cut Stone Tunnel Portal REQUIRES: Adhere Portal to Layout Lightweight Hydrocal, Flex Paste or White Glue Hobby Knife, Sandpaper or File Earth Color Liquid Pigments SPECS: Scale: HO 1:87

Toy:  Easy to color plaster casting, One portal per package, Outside measurement: 6-1/16" x 5-5/16", Inside measurement: 2-3/4" x 3-3/4"
Company: Woodland Scenics 
List Price: $8.99
Amazon Price: $7.05
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Tags:   Single Tunnel Portal Stone

This Box Contains One HO Scale Double Track Cut Stone Tunnel Portal for Your / Model Railroad Layout from Woodland Scenics. / / Tunnel portals are the stone, concrete, or timber facings built at the / entrances to tunnels. They hold back rocks and dirt from tunnel entrances and / often are used in combination with retaining walls. / / FEATURES: This concrete tunnel portal is cast in high-density Hydrocal. / Wide enough for two HO scale track to run through. / This white cast is authentically detailed in appearance and texture. / You can use this portal alone or in combination with retaining walls. / Create ultimate scenic realism simply and economically. / Ready for staining or painting right from the box. / Easy to follow instructions for installation of portals. / / INCLUDES: One HO Scale Double Track Cut Stone Tunnel Portal / / REQUIRES: Adhere Portal to Layout / Lightweight Hydrocal, Flex Paste or White Glue / Hobby Knife, Sandpaper or File / Earth Color Liquid Pigments / / SPECS: Scale: HO 1:87

Toy:  Easy to color plaster casting, One portal per package, Outside measurement: 8-1/16" x 5-1/4", Inside measurement: 4-3/4" x 3-7/8"
Company: Woodland Scenics 
List Price: $9.99
Amazon Price: $7.49
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Tags:   Double Tunnel Portal Stone

N SNGL RANDOM STONE TUNNELPORTAL(2)

Toy: 
Company: CHOOCH ENTERPRISES INC. 
List Price: $9.99
Amazon Price: $9.99
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Tags:   Single Random Stone Tunnel Portal

This digital document is an article from T H E Journal (Technological Horizons In Education), published by T.H.E. Journal, LLC on April 1, 2000. The length of the article is 951 words. The page length shown above is based on a typical 300-word page. The article is delivered in HTML format and is available in your Amazon.com Digital Locker immediately after purchase. You can view it with any web browser.

From the supplier: The Web offers teachers a wide variety of educational sites for use in the classroom. WebCT's e-learning hub offers course content and e-commerce to over 1,000 colleges and 4.3 million students. Lightspan PageOne helps educators to locate relevant Web sites. The sites are reviewed by educators and the search engine covers a database of more than 115,000 sites. PowerSchool Inc's portal is designed to meet the educational needs of teachers, administrators, students and parents. National Geographic's education site offers interactive adventures, virtual expeditions and printable maps. CyberU's portal provides online courses and resources for anyone who wants to learn.

Citation Details
Title: PORTAL ROUNDUP.(Company Business and Marketing)
Publication: T H E Journal (Technological Horizons In Education) (Refereed)
Date: April 1, 2000
Publisher: T.H.E. Journal, LLC
Volume: 27 Issue: 9 Page: 46

Article Type: Directory

Distributed by Thomson Gale

Digital:  4 pages HTML
Company: T.H.E. Journal, LLC  (2000-04-01) (2005-07-28)
List Price: $5.95
Amazon Price: $5.95
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Tags:   PORTAL ROUNDUP Company Business Marketing article Journal Technological Horizons Education

This digital document is an article from T H E Journal (Technological Horizons In Education), published by T.H.E. Journal, LLC on October 1, 2000. The length of the article is 595 words. The page length shown above is based on a typical 300-word page. The article is delivered in HTML format and is available in your Amazon.com Digital Locker immediately after purchase. You can view it with any web browser.

Citation Details
Title: Portals.(Internet/Web/Online Service Information)
Publication: T H E Journal (Technological Horizons In Education) (Refereed)
Date: October 1, 2000
Publisher: T.H.E. Journal, LLC
Volume: 28 Issue: 3 Page: 52

Distributed by Thomson Gale

Digital:  2 pages HTML
Company: T.H.E. Journal, LLC  (2000-10-01) (2005-07-28)
List Price: $5.95
Amazon Price: $5.95
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Tags:   Portals Internet Web Online Service Information article Journal Technological Horizons Education

This digital document is an article from T H E Journal (Technological Horizons In Education), published by T.H.E. Journal, LLC on September 1, 2004. The length of the article is 1022 words. The page length shown above is based on a typical 300-word page. The article is delivered in HTML format and is available in your Amazon.com Digital Locker immediately after purchase. You can view it with any web browser.

Citation Details
Title: K-12 portal brings Honolulu community together.(Applications)
Author: Wendi Takemoto
Publication: T H E Journal (Technological Horizons In Education) (Refereed)
Date: September 1, 2004
Publisher: T.H.E. Journal, LLC
Volume: 32 Issue: 2 Page: 54(2)

Distributed by Thomson Gale

Author: Wendi Takemoto
Digital:  4 pages HTML
Company: T.H.E. Journal, LLC  (2004-09-01) (2005-08-01)
List Price: $5.95
Amazon Price: $5.95
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Tags:   portal brings Honolulu community Applications article Journal Technological Horizons Education

Select a search index, enter a search word or phrase, then click GO arrow. Search: ... (more...)

Tags:   Horizon Information Portal

Welcome to the Holy Names University Library Information Portal! - Note: Some materials acquired prior to 2001 are not yet in ... (more...)

Tags:   Horizon Information Portal

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Welcome to the library's online catalog. Start by entering a search in any box, then click the 'Go' button. Click on the Advanced link above to perform complex searches. (more...)

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Welcome to the New Hampshire State Library's Online Catalog ***** (more...)

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Search the library catalog by selecting the type of search you want to perform, input your term and select the 'go' button. Search: ... (more...)

Tags:   Horizon Information Portal

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The basic plot is as follows: some astronauts (or something akin to that) enter a ship that has been to hell and back (literally) and has a lot of dead, frozen people on it. There are some sort of demons on the ships that disillusion everyone on it and eventually kill them all. One famous scene is when one of the actors is in some sort of duct system and keeps seeing a particular spirit (who happens to be a woman) flashing by him. This spirit was also naked in a bath tub at one point. There is also some sort of giant portal in the movie. I can't remember any actors or actresses, only that it seems as though the title had the word "horizon" in it. Any help would be great. I watched this movie at a birthday party a long time ago and was wondering what it was. (more...)

Tags:   Resolved Question title movie

can someone just give me a summary, so far i can tell is a man is walking on the beach listening to a girl sing while drifting in and out of reality. I know it is long, but i would really appreciate any help. Idea of order at key west by wallace stevens She sang beyond the genius of the sea. The water never formed to mind or voice, Like a body wholly body, fluttering Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry, That was not ours although we understood, Inhuman, of the veritable ocean. The sea was not a mask. No more was she. The song and water were not medleyed sound Even if what she sang was what she heard, Since what she sang was uttered word by word. It may be that in all her phrases stirred The grinding water and the gasping wind; But it was she and not the sea we heard. For she was the maker of the song she sang. The ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea Was merely a place by which she walked to sing. Whose spirit is this? we said, because we knew It was the spirit that we sought and knew That we should ask this often as she sang. If it was only the dark voice of the sea That rose, or even colored by many waves; If it was only the outer voice of sky And cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled, However clear, it would have been deep air, The heaving speech of air, a summer sound Repeated in a summer without end And sound alone. But it was more than that, More even than her voice, and ours, among The meaningless plungings of water and the wind, Theatrical distances, bronze shadows heaped On high horizons, mountainous atmospheres Of sky and sea. It was her voice that made The sky acutest at its vanishing. She measured to the hour its solitude. She was the single artificer of the world In which she sang. And when she sang, the sea, Whatever self it had, became the self That was her song, for she was the maker. Then we, As we beheld her striding there alone, Knew that there never was a world for her Except the one she sang and, singing, made. Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know, Why, when the singing ended and we turned Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights, The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there, As the night descended, tilting in the air, Mastered the night and portioned out the sea, Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles, Arranging, deepening, enchanting night. Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon, The maker's rage to order words of the sea, Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred, And of ourselves and of our origins, In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds. (more...)

Tags:   Resolved Question plz help poem idea key west

can someone just give me a summary, so far i can tell is a man is walking on the beach listening to a girl sing while drifting in and out of reality. I know it is long, but i would really appreciate any help. Idea of order at key west by wallace stevens She sang beyond the genius of the sea. The water never formed to mind or voice, Like a body wholly body, fluttering Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry, That was not ours although we understood, Inhuman, of the veritable ocean. The sea was not a mask. No more was she. The song and water were not medleyed sound Even if what she sang was what she heard, Since what she sang was uttered word by word. It may be that in all her phrases stirred The grinding water and the gasping wind; But it was she and not the sea we heard. For she was the maker of the song she sang. The ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea Was merely a place by which she walked to sing. Whose spirit is this? we said, because we knew It was the spirit that we sought and knew That we should ask this often as she sang. If it was only the dark voice of the sea That rose, or even colored by many waves; If it was only the outer voice of sky And cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled, However clear, it would have been deep air, The heaving speech of air, a summer sound Repeated in a summer without end And sound alone. But it was more than that, More even than her voice, and ours, among The meaningless plungings of water and the wind, Theatrical distances, bronze shadows heaped On high horizons, mountainous atmospheres Of sky and sea. It was her voice that made The sky acutest at its vanishing. She measured to the hour its solitude. She was the single artificer of the world In which she sang. And when she sang, the sea, Whatever self it had, became the self That was her song, for she was the maker. Then we, As we beheld her striding there alone, Knew that there never was a world for her Except the one she sang and, singing, made. Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know, Why, when the singing ended and we turned Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights, The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there, As the night descended, tilting in the air, Mastered the night and portioned out the sea, Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles, Arranging, deepening, enchanting night. Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon, The maker's rage to order words of the sea, Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred, And of ourselves and of our origins, In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds. (more...)

Tags:   Voting Question plz help poem idea key west

Descent to Where I feel myself being drawn to the desert, once again Inexorably as if I crave its extremes? depression Painless at first this feeling soon starts a fire, relentless I look at sun and see moon, love becomes pain, becoming numb This horse I ride, it gives no comfort now?just dumbs my brain Horizons of sandy seas call me to follow forward, nothingness I hear screams, cries, hazy sounds, somewhere deep? awaking? Hallucinating now, searching for the portal there? Please?open. (more...)

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I have just seen this and I think it was amazing. But the ending? - perhaps it is the wife (Cusacks final shot grin is not one where he realises he is still in the room but an acknowledgement to his wife that he has pulled her into the room to share his private hell) and not Cusack who is in 1408. Posit Cusack killed his kid through passive smoke, actually drowns in the ocean and is already making his way through the levels to Dante's seventh circle (which he mentions several times), as a sprite servant of 1408, which (Event Horizon style)is a circle within the hotel, itself a portal to Hell. Cusack's punishment is to lure those he loves to 1408 for the same treatment (melting phone call). Jackson is the devil who congratulates Cusack when he 'burns 1408 alive' because the phrase Jackson uses - 'well done' - refers to how you would order a steak, and is not congratulatory. The daughters voice on the tape is another demonic trick, the start of the wife's journey through Hell? (more...)

Tags:   Resolved Question original 1408

You can study all the forms know all the great practitioners and never come close to this by a man who probably couldn't even write. Yonder sky that has wept tears of compassion upon my people for centuries untold, and which to us appears changeless and eternal, may change. Today is fair. Tomorrow it may be overcast with clouds. My words are like the stars that never change. Whatever Seattle says, the great chief at Washington can rely upon with as much certainty as he can upon the return of the sun or the seasons. The white chief says that Big Chief at Washington sends us greetings of friendship and goodwill. This is kind of him for we know he has little need of our friendship in return. His people are many. They are like the grass that covers vast prairies. My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain. The great, and I presume -- good, White Chief sends us word that he wishes to buy our land but is willing to allow us enough to live comfortably. This indeed appears just, even generous, for the Red Man no longer has rights that he need respect, and the offer may be wise, also, as we are no longer in need of an extensive country. There was a time when our people covered the land as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea cover its shell-paved floor, but that time long since passed away with the greatness of tribes that are now but a mournful memory. I will not dwell on, nor mourn over, our untimely decay, nor reproach my paleface brothers with hastening it, as we too may have been somewhat to blame. Youth is impulsive. When our young men grow angry at some real or imaginary wrong, and disfigure their faces with black paint, it denotes that their hearts are black, and that they are often cruel and relentless, and our old men and old women are unable to restrain them. Thus it has ever been. Thus it was when the white man began to push our forefathers ever westward. But let us hope that the hostilities between us may never return. We would have everything to lose and nothing to gain. Revenge by young men is considered gain, even at the cost of their own lives, but old men who stay at home in times of war, and mothers who have sons to lose, know better. Our good father in Washington--for I presume he is now our father as well as yours, since King George has moved his boundaries further north--our great and good father, I say, sends us word that if we do as he desires he will protect us. His brave warriors will be to us a bristling wall of strength, and his wonderful ships of war will fill our harbors, so that our ancient enemies far to the northward -- the Haidas and Tsimshians -- will cease to frighten our women, children, and old men. Then in reality he will be our father and we his children. But can that ever be? Your God is not our God! Your God loves your people and hates mine! He folds his strong protecting arms lovingly about the paleface and leads him by the hand as a father leads an infant son. But, He has forsaken His Red children, if they really are His. Our God, the Great Spirit, seems also to have forsaken us. Your God makes your people wax stronger every day. Soon they will fill all the land. Our people are ebbing away like a rapidly receding tide that will never return. The white man's God cannot love our people or He would protect them. They seem to be orphans who can look nowhere for help. How then can we be brothers? How can your God become our God and renew our prosperity and awaken in us dreams of returning greatness? If we have a common Heavenly Father He must be partial, for He came to His paleface children. We never saw Him. He gave you laws but had no word for His red children whose teeming multitudes once filled this vast continent as stars fill the firmament. No; we are two distinct races with separate origins and separate destinies. There is little in common between us. To us the ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their resting place is hallowed ground. You wander far from the graves of your ancestors and seemingly without regret. Your religion was written upon tablets of stone by the iron finger of your God so that you could not forget. The Red Man could never comprehend or remember it. Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors -- the dreams of our old men, given them in solemn hours of the night by the Great Spirit; and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people. Your dead cease to love you and the land of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb and wander away beyond the stars. They are soon forgotten and never return. Our dead never forget this beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its verdant valleys, its murmuring rivers, its magnificent mountains, sequestered vales and verdant lined lakes and bays, and ever yearn in tender fond affection over the lonely hearted living, and often return from the happy hunting ground to visit, guide, console, and comfort them. Day and night cannot dwell together. The Red Man has ever fled the approach of the White Man, as the morning mist flees before the morning sun. However, your proposition seems fair and I think that my people will accept it and will retire to the reservation you offer them. Then we will dwell apart in peace, for the words of the Great White Chief seem to be the words of nature speaking to my people out of dense darkness. It matters little where we pass the remnant of our days. They will not be many. The Indian's night promises to be dark. Not a single star of hope hovers above his horizon. Sad-voiced winds moan in the distance. Grim fate seems to be on the Red Man's trail, and wherever he will hear the approaching footsteps of his fell destroyer and prepare stolidly to meet his doom, as does the wounded doe that hears the approaching footsteps of the hunter. A few more moons, a few more winters, and not one of the descendants of the mighty hosts that once moved over this broad land or lived in happy homes, protected by the Great Spirit, will remain to mourn over the graves of a people once more powerful and hopeful than yours. But why should I mourn at the untimely fate of my people? Tribe follows tribe, and nation follows nation, like the waves of the sea. It is the order of nature, and regret is useless. Your time of decay may be distant, but it will surely come, for even the White Man whose God walked and talked with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all. We will see. We will ponder your proposition and when we decide we will let you know. But should we accept it, I here and now make this condition that we will not be denied the privilege without molestation of visiting at any time the tombs of our ancestors, friends, and children. Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove, has been hallowed by some sad or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb and dead as the swelter in the sun along the silent shore, thrill with memories of stirring events connected with the lives of my people, and the very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch. Our departed braves, fond mothers, glad, happy hearted maidens, and even the little children who lived here and rejoiced here for a brief season, will love these somber solitudes and at eventide they greet shadowy returning spirits. And when the last Red Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land. The White Man will never be alone. Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only a change of worlds. (more...)

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Astronomically, what occurs on that day is an alignment between the galactic and solar planes. Specifically, the winter solstice sun will conjunct the Milky Way, which is the edge of our spinning spiral galaxy. The place where the sun meets the Milky Way is where the "dark-rift" in the Milky Way is - a black ridge along the Milky Way caused by interstellar dust clouds This is a feature of the Milky Way anyone can see on a clear midsummer's night. At dawn on the winter solstice of A.D. 2012, the sun will be right in this dark-rift, and the orientation is such that the Milky Way rims the horizon at all points around. Thus, the Milky Way "sits" on the earth, touching it at all points around, opening up the cosmic sky portal. The galactic and solar planes are thus aligned. "Sky portal" is just a term to describe the "opened sky" scenario apparent when the Milky Way rims the horizon. This is not to be confused with the "dark-rift" itself." Who thinks that this event could signal the end? (more...)

Tags:   Resolved Question Mayan believe world December 21st 2012