Netter's Histology Flash Cards (Updated Edition) - Ovalle, William K., Nahirney,Patrick C.
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Patrick Swayze in Father Hood (1993)
Discover all artworks by Patrick Scott (Irish, 1921 - 2014) on MutualArt along with auctions, exhibitions and articles featuring the artist.
Patrick Ahearn Architect specializes in historically motivated architecture and interior design
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The iconic clock tower on Johnson C. Smith University campus.
Actor Michael C. Hall talked with Speakeasy about his Broadway show, "Hedwig and the Angry Inch," and putting psychic distance between himself and his former television character, Dexter.
Galeriebeitrag Boeing C-17 Globemaster III von Revell, ein Modell gebaut von Patrick Boogie in 1:144.
The flagship Ewing Athletics shoe, the 33 HI is an exact retro of the 1990 original, and features a classic reversible ankle strap that can be worn on the front or back of the shoe, and a full length PU midsole for cushioning. We proudly present the Pimp C x #Ewing 33 HI: Designed in conjunction with with the Butler fa
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View image View image View image (December 7, 2007: Re-submitted as a contribution to the 'Short Film Week' Blog-a-thon co-hosted by Only the Cinema and Culture Snob.) (This is another contribution to the Close-Up Blog-a-thon at the House Next Door.) Creating, assembling, integrating, asserting, and maintaining a personality is routine for most of us, but there's no denying it's hard work. Some of us have to do it from scratch every day. That's what so chillingly magnificent about the opening credits sequence for Showtime's "Dexter." It shows a man putting himself together (piece by piece, close-up by close-up) in the course of enacting his morning rituals. Yes, there are plenty of playful groaners about knives, flesh, and blood. Dexter is a serial killer -- albeit one who's trying to use his control-freak instincts to keep his habit manageable, within certain ethical boundaries, even as he daylights in forensics for Miami homicide. (He's a blood-spatter expert, naturally.) View image View image We recognize his daily rites as things we all do every day, but they're rendered in such garish (Miami!) colors and macro-close-ups that they appear to us grotesque and purified, ultra-specific and abstractly universal, at the same time, like Pop Art. Even the messy parts look like Abstract Expressionism (like the blood spatters Dexter hangs as art above his desk at work), from the collection of Dexter Morgan. His most valued collection, however, consists of the blood slides of his victims, which he keeps neatly and discreetly filed in a box inside the air conditioner. The credits gallery is accompanied by jaunty/menacing music that's both spicy Latin in flavor and creepy Gothic in sensibility. A guitar/kalimba/harpsichord sound. Sassy/sinister horns punctuate the mocking melody with bleats, cackles and growls. It's like the "Addams Family" theme played by a Mexican Day of the Dead band of mâché skeleton musicians. Who are, no doubt, Cuban immigrants. View image A dash of Abstract Expressionism. View image View image The first time you see it (the titles sequence wasn't used in the initial pilot episode), it tells you everything you need to know about the character. Every time after that, it immerses you into the world of the show, like the best opening montages that took you by the eyelids and pulled you into "Twin Peaks," the New Jersey of "The Sopranos," the muddy shit-hole mining town of "Deadwood." It begins with an extreme close-up of a mosquito (like Dexter, a blood-sucking predator). SMACK! Dexter swats it and we rack-focus down his extended forearm and notice his face -- still fuzzy, abstract, in semi-darkness, cheek against the mattress. The hint of a satisfied smile. Another kill, another day. Good morning! Time to rise and shine. Let's begin with a shave: Huge fingertips brush over wire stubble; the flesh beneath the bristles is elastic, alive. Shaving gel: Yes, it looks like semen. This is a show about bodily fluids. (And about performing.) A trickle of blood runs flows into the top of the frame and down the tender skin of the neck. A drop -- twothree -- splatters near the drain in the sink. (We have other Jungian -- er, Hitcockian -- memories of blood and drains, don't we?) A piece of tissue soaks up the red from the nick...