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belter's underlying pain and grit, serving up aching verses and then exploding with a soulful wail on the chorus.
Jackson didn't love the song choice, saying it didn't show off the 17-year-old singer's formidable range, while Kara said it was the right choice of artist, though she might have picked a different Joplin song. Noting that Iraheta has been knocked for a perceived lack of personality while performing, Kara said she saw the teen's personality shine through as Abdul called her "downright fearless" and suggested that if the long-gestating Joplin biopic ever gets made, Iraheta should be the star. Cowell said Iraheta had shown "staggering" growth over the past eight weeks and praised her confidence, while dissing her for sounding too much like the original.
Next came the first duet segment in the finals, which awkwardly paired Gokey and Allen on a cover of Styx's "Renegade." The two, whose grit-and-glass voices sounded smooth together at first, traded off lines during the verses, with Allen showing a bit more of an edge than he's previously displayed and Gokey singing over him during the choruses.
"I really like the harmonies. I think you guys complement each other greatly with that song," Randy said, noting that the individual vocals were not as strong. Kara thought it was funny that "the guys that help the little women cross the street" were singing a song called "Renegade," but she said, "The sum of the parts was better," suggesting that maybe they couldn't hear their own vocals at times, which led to some pitchiness. Paula had no such complaints, calling their duet "powerful" and "compelling," though Simon seemed unimpressed, nonchalantly saying, "Danny, you were better than Kris."
Allen got a chance to shine alone next, and, like Lambert, he went for the big score, choosing "Come Together" by the Beatles. He got to borrow one of Slash's guitars during the mentoring session, admitting he almost "peed his pants" at the chance. Strumming one of his own on the show, Allen added his blue-eyed soul to the heavy Fab Four rocker, showing a bit more attitude.
Randy appreciated that Allen was able to still be himself in a genre he isn't known for, even if the vocals weren't great, but professed to being blown away by Allen's guitar playing. Kara wasn't as convinced, saying she appreciated that the soft rocker tried to bring a harder edge but "for me, this was not a great performance. ... It was trying too hard. It wasn't the best song." Simon said bluntly, "I didn't like it that much. It was rather like eating ice for lunch, which is it will leave you with nothing to remember afterwards." Simon also called it a safe, boring "jam," which, as he predicted, did not top Lambert.
The final solo performance came from Gokey, who chose Aerosmith's legendary AM radio classic "Dream On." Known for his gospel-tinged crooning, Gokey appeared to struggle to add some grit to his voice at first but then settled into a powerful blues delivery, appearing to run out of steam for the iconic scream at the end, which sounded strained and awkward.
The judges were mixed, with Randy giving him an A-plus for effort in a genre that is not his strong suit, though Kara wondered if Gokey took previous comments about his lack of swagger too seriously and maybe pushed things a little too far this week.
Paula is still a huge fan but wasn't feeling the song choice, and Simon agreed with the other three that Gokey took some chances. "But the last note, it was like watching a horror movie," he said. "It was actually a little over-the-top, where I think with Adam it kind of worked; with you, it didn't work so much."
Despite all that, Cowell predicted that Gokey would be safe.
The show ended with the night's second duet: Iraheta and Lambert taking on Foghat's greasy 1975 rocker "Slowride.

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About the late Wilton Sankawolo and I been privileged to be in Liberia as my friend and colleague passed away, I would have asked permission to read beside his bier a short biography of his father that he authored and which appeared in a 1974 publication (“Anthology of Liberian Literature”). It remains my wish that the biography incorporated in this tribute be read at one of the funeral occasions and hopefully printed in the local newspapers. The late Wilton Sankawolo I first met Wilton Sankawulo at Cuttington College and Divinity School (now Cuttington University) in Suacoco in 1963. He was a class ahead of me. More than a decade later we found ourselves in the service of the Liberian government, he at the Information Ministry and I at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The latter part of the 1970s found us together at the Ministry of State for Presidential Affairs. When the 1980 coup d’etat struck we were both in trouble. We survived by the grace of God, he remaining at the Executive Mansion and I moving on to university work. Wilton remained in the thicket of Liberian politics in the 1980s, and was even drawn into the politics of interim governance in the turbulent years of the 1990s. Renewal of war in 2003 led him to eventually join some of us already leading our lives in exile. We renewed contact, often exchanging e-mail messages and spending a lot of time on the phone, talking about our respective writing interests. Our last encounter was in Monrovia in early December 2008. As I extend the condolences of my family to his widow, children and other relatives, I do so not only as a friend and colleague, but also in homage to a major Liberian literary figure. Sankawulo follows a long tradition of writers of Liberian literature beginning perhaps with Joseph Jeffrey Walters, a Vai-Liberian novelist who wrote more than 100 years ago what belated was hailed as the “first book of long fiction by an African to be published in English.” (Guanya Pau published 1891). Walters would be followed by scores of others who deserve to be more widely known and read especially in Liberia. Let this generation of Liberians acknowledge its writer sons and daughters for they are the real articulators of the Liberian identity, an identity so little understood and thus so often manipulated to the detriment of Liberia. In his LIFE IS ETERNAL: ESSAY IN MEMORY OF MY FATHER, Wilton Sankawulo writes passionately about his Kpelle and Gola background though he situates the experiences lived squarely in the context of Liberia. WILTON SANKAWULO LIFE IS ETERNAL Essay in Memory of My Father But I shall sleep, for where is any death While in these blue hills slumberous overhead I’m rooted like a tree? Though I be dead This soil that holds me fast will find me breath. He was a Kpelle man, as far as I can gather, though he spoke Gola fluently. By the same token I consider myself both Kpelle and Gola even though my knowledge of Gola is exceedingly scarce. My father spent his early childhood in Golaland, and he often spoke of those early days with extreme sentiments. His sentimental reminiscences of Golaland were brief, sporadic, and amusing anecdotes. They were never connected with a sustained plot to be designated as a story. Consequently they never made anything more than a passive impression on me. I do not know how he came to settle in Haindi; I think something of the cosmopolitan semblance of the town had to do with it. Though Haindi was a secluded village in the old times, it was the confluence of Liberian cultures. Vai, Mande, and Mandingo people lived there, carrying on some meagre amount of trading. They brought the Koran. Three features of the Islamic faith I admired were (1) the group prayers. While praying in a group the Moslems would dress in long, white gowns and speak Arabic. (2) At the end of Ramadan, they would conduct festive celebrations. At this time they would be extremely generous, mirthful, and they would dance about the town in frolic. (3) A last impression 1 remember was the boys reciting wala, brief quotations from the Koran written on slates. They would sit patiently by their houses each morning and read by rote until they were tired out. These practices were observed with rigid regularity. As Haindi was on the border with Golaland, Gola and Kpelle traditions mingled. Sometimes the Kpelle people and the Gola people made farms together and. joined the same Poro and Sande societies. I noticed that those who were considered the best singers sang in Gola. I do not think it was because Gola was more melodic than Kpelle. A lot could be said rapidly in Gola without making the song sound awkward. Haindi was also a stopping point for travelers (Mande, Kissi, Gbande, Loma) on their way to and from the northern part of Liberia, fondly called Upriver. I remember many of these travelers personally. Their arrival and departure from Haindi were always a curiosity. They carried their acquisitions in kenjas hooked to their backs. I remember Fayah, a Kissi traveler who died in Haindi. His death created considerable sensation among his fellow travelers who considered it as a calculated injustice. I remember Landa, a Gbande dancing devil, who accompanied some Gbande travelers to Haindi. He was probably Liberia’s best entertainer: he sang well — he sang in a beautiful, soft, and resonant voice. His beauty was mesmeric. He dressed in a beautiful raffia skirt. He had long, bearded jaws that radiated a paternal effect. His red mouth was dotted with red, conical teeth. He repeatedly opened his mouth and closed it with a clap sound on the last note of a song. Landa curiously wore a deck of feathers at the back of his head, and he actually mimicked the songs of the birds whose feathers he wore. Landa always carried an atmosphere of romance. All I found repulsive about him was his excessive speed. Like a flash of lightning, he would run from one place to another, regardless of the distance. His admirers usually watched him with apprehension for nobody knew the direction his amazing speed would take, and it was ominous for a living person to clash with a devil. But Landa never ran into anyone. My father was a strong man though such an admission may not be anything more than trite. Every son believes his father is the most powerful creature on earth. The ancient Romans admonished us to speak only good of the dead. But my father was not given to flattery. I have no intention of making him appear more worthy in death than he was in life: he was often petty, querulous, subject to outrageous intransigence where his own interest was at stake. He wanted the world to adjust itself to him rather than his adjusting to the world. We blame the Church for teaching us that the earth is the center of the universe and everything created in the universe was designed for man’s convenience, for we realize that life is always in contest with the natural forces of the universe. Earthquake, flood, lightning storms, worms, mosquitoes, germs, and other innumerable disasters are no respecters of life. We say this is ascribable to sinful human nature, but those who overcome sin and become good are the first to die. The better man you try to be the more vulnerable you become. The fact is that nature is a mystery, it creates and destroys at the same time. Death and life are always walking side by side. Death begins at birth and life begins at death. The vision between life and death, however, is profound and extraordinary — man is required to use it to understand his situation rather than take to superstition. While the Church is trying to place the earth in the center of the universe with difficulty, there are individuals I have known (my father included) who believe they’re the ones to occupy that place. The odds against such a possibility are so numerous and overwhelming that we need not speculate upon them. When I say that my father was a strong man I am aware of the fact that I was born in his old age — the unsettling effect of his tarnishing years was reasonably responsible for his quarrels with the world. He loved people, and I believe it was even more so in his youth because he told me stories of his engagement in tribal wars as well as perilous elephant hunts. Only a sociable man would pursue such projects. He worked without respite to eke out existence for us in the jungles. He held tenaciously to the cutlass to the very end. He wanted me to be a hard worker, or more correctly, a farmer, but contrary to his expectations I was given to revere. I preferred being alone most often, reading tales or inventing characters and plots in my mind. When he noticed my interest in tales, he told me a few of them, full of wild adventures and intrigue, such as “The Marriage of Beauty”, “Animals Run For Their Horns”, and “A Breach of Promise”. A most fascinating epic tale he told me, which could even provide materials for a whole book, was about the annual trips the Kpelle people of Fuama Chiefdom made to White Plains to barter rice, coffee, palm kernels, and other produce in stores operated by some Germans. The physical endurance required of them, the harassment of the Gola people they encountered on these long journeys to the coast, engendered romantic heroes and adventures. I loved his cherished fantasies and his concept of true manhood: endurance, courage, self-reliance, love for work, friendship. I want to adopt these virtues so when I see him again I will say, “I tried to be a man.” On August 19, 1959, my father died. Four weeks before his death I sat by him on a bamboo bed, a blaze of fire dancing timorously among pieces of twig in the fireplace. He was wrapped up in a yellowish sheet of country cloth from his feet up to his armpits, lying on his left side, facing the dark mud wall. I had been on an evangelistic mission for the Lutheran Church in Wenita, near Totota. I tried to convert the people of Wenita, but they peculiarly evaded conversion. They wanted conversion but, first of all they wanted to live. In the daytime they worked with utmost perseverance on their farms, and in the evening they went to bed soon. I had little to no chance to preach to them. My evangelistic mission was proving abortive; yet I had to show evidence of their conversion if I would be successful. While I was worrying about this a villager brought me a letter from home which said that my father was dying. He wanted to tell me some last things; so I should hurry home. Impulsively I ran into the house in which I was lodging, packed my clothes and books in a wooden box, shouldered it, and went to Totota where I boarded a pickup truck for Haindi. It was raining heavily when I arrived home, a violent onslaught of water washed the hard, laterite soil of the town. When I stepped down from the pickup one of my nieces spied me and ran to me excitedly, declaring my arrival. My mother and sister, most depressed, who sat on the porch saw me and began crying, beating their breasts, wriggling on the dusty, earth floor as if by so doing they could make Father get well. I decided not to cry because Father never welcomed tears on my face. “If you cry what will the women do?” he often told me. I went to the porch; Sister suddenly turned sober and directed me to the room where Father lay. My brother-in-law came in — all of us sat down, speechless for a moment, staring about in dismay. Now and then Sister would poke at the fire with a piece of sapling, blow on it so it would stop smouldering and sending painful smoke into our eyes and nostrils. In spite of her effort smoke clouded the room, our eyes watered, the humid air was suffocating. Our concern made all this bearable. Some casual friends were called when Father began giving the farewell message. “I’m leaving the family with you,” he began. “You’re a true son of the land.” I thought incidentally of the kola tree which stood on the outskirts of the town over my navel cord as a testimony of the fact. (When the navel cord — or umbilical cord — of a baby drops off, the Kpelle people usually bury it with a kola nut which grows up as a tree to tie him to the land and also show that he is a true citizen of the land.) Of course he did not only want me to remember constantly that I was a Liberian. His tenacious claim to the land was also due to the fact that he wanted to leave me some inheritance, a solemn tradition not to be forgotten. If he had no property to leave, at least he brought me into a special geography; that should be inheritance enough. I confirmed this by telling him I was proud of being a Liberian, and I entertained the fact with utmost gratitude and delight that he was leaving Liberia with me or leaving me with Liberia. I would certainly try to make my contributions whenever I got the opportunity and work hard to be successful. “Well,” he coughed and took a long breath, “I wish all your relatives were here. They won’t have any property to inherit. Maybe that’s why many of them are not here. All the same, I’m leaving them with you. Take good care of them.” Father never reconciled himself with our poverty. Under the circumstances he did the most humanly thing possible: he defended his land, he supported his children until they were old enough to fend for themselves, he was lucky to grow old to become an elder of the land, a peacemaker — this was a saga of bravery and achievement which if any of us inherited would lead perhaps to success. However, he believed greatly in material success. And as the educated man in the modern world stood the best chance of making money, I would be the next hope for the family because I had joined forces with the world of education. Whether I would be able to survive in this world or not was not important. I left him dying and went back to school because he wanted it that way. I should know book to be able to write it with my right hand and my left hand, know book so whenever anyone woke me in the middle of the night and said something in English I would know what he meant. Book meant everything. I never put it this way, though I valued education. I returned to school to begin the last semester of my high school career, regretting the fact that he might possibly not live to see me finish high school. After a couple of weeks of schooling, the principal called me to his office one day. A student would normally grow apprehensive when summoned to “The Office”, because it was usually only in case of misbehavior one would be asked to see the principal. Reviewing in my mind the events of the last two weeks, I remembered doing nothing wrong, so I could only imagine that he wanted to announce the death of my father to me. This occurred to me despite his effort to sound as informal as possible so that I wouldn’t detect it. When I later saw him it was not surprising to learn that Father was dead. I had thought of it as a strong possibility, because sickness at his age was extremely dangerous. I could not feel sad, though I felt a part of me dead. Like Macbeth, you are bound to find yourself beyond feelings if you live with misfortunes for a long time. We were menaced by poverty and disease at home, and we were harassed by harsh reproaches, punishment, and moral condemnation in the mission school. Therefore, my father’s death was just another assault of my daily misfortunes. I went home and met my mother and sisters with tousled hair, their bodies covered with dust and ashes, weeping. I had never been aware of this aspect of our culture. Farewell gun salutes echoed down the St. Paul River near which Father was buried. People from many villages came to pay him their last respects. Some brought us white chickens, white clothes, white kola nuts, and white coins as consolations. The funeral was, of course, over. Communication difficulty delayed my awareness of Father’s death for almost a week. And it was contrary to Kpelle custom to keep the corpse of a man unburied for more than four days. In fact, the harsh climate of the tropics does not permit it. My brother, brother-in-law, nephew and some friendly townsmen assembled around me, telling me to be a man. They escorted me to his grave. It began to drizzle. We ran quickly to the grave, gave four gun salutes and returned to the town. As we returned I wished I had some privacy at the grave. Not that I had anything much to say to my father — he never taught me any of the enchanting, esoteric words uttered in salutation to the dead because as a so-called civilized man I had to refrain from such things. I simply wanted to thank him for the grim struggles he put forth for our survival, ask him to take my greetings to the ancestral spirits, and tell him that life is eternal and death will never make it perishable. May the soul of Wilton Sankawulo and the souls of all the faithful departed rest in peace.

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This is just what you've been waiting for. 2 beautiful sistas 1st showing off their amazing bodies asses, then kissing and licking each other out! Then a homie comes in and fucks the shit out of them. This is great sex with cum swapping, anal facials!
Starring: Peaches, Dynasty, Lexi, Nya, Kia, Mandy, Sexy Chocolate, Jocelyn, Persia, TT Boy, Darren James, Max Black
Review:
When I first picked up "2 Chocolate Kisses For Every Homie", I knew I was in for a treat because it brings together all of my favorite aspects of an adult movie. This movie combines black girl/girl action with enjoyable boy/girl/girl action. I'm a big fan of black girl/girl action but that is really hard to find now since the "Sista" series has slowed down. And I have always been a fan of TT Boy's films because it just seems like he has a way of pleasing the women in his movies, the women always seem to have alot of energy working in his films that I just don't seem to get in other titles featuring black women.
The basic setup for each scene was a short interview with the two women as they caress each other and undress. From there, they would take turns eating each other out until, a male performer would come in to join in the action.
All of the scenes in this movie were good but the one that really stood out was the last one with Lexi and another sexy light skinned woman that was listed in the biographies as "Peaches 2" but I don't think that was her name. These two women are absolutely gorgeous and it was understandable why TT Boy barely let them take off their clothes before he was jumping in the action. Although I might have liked to see the women get some one on one time with each other, this scene was great. "Peaches 2" showed alot of energy in this scene doing some great reverse cowgirl and giving alot of great moans begging for TT to get rough with her. And of course Lexi could do no wrong with a body like hers. Although she didn't have the energy of "Peaches 2", just seeing her butt go up and down in the cowgirl position was enough for me.
The extras included some behind the scenes and masturbation scenes from the women in the movie which was a pleasant surprise for me.
I recommend this movie to anyone who enjoys watching threesomes, girl/girl action, and black women with round asses.

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This is just what you've been waiting for. 2 beautiful sistas 1st showing off their amazing bodies asses, then kissing and licking each other out! Then a homie comes in and fucks the shit out of them. This is great sex with cum swapping, anal facials!
Starring: Peaches, Dynasty, Lexi, Nya, Kia, Mandy, Sexy Chocolate, Jocelyn, Persia, TT Boy, Darren James, Max Black
Review:
When I first picked up "2 Chocolate Kisses For Every Homie", I knew I was in for a treat because it brings together all of my favorite aspects of an adult movie. This movie combines black girl/girl action with enjoyable boy/girl/girl action. I'm a big fan of black girl/girl action but that is really hard to find now since the "Sista" series has slowed down. And I have always been a fan of TT Boy's films because it just seems like he has a way of pleasing the women in his movies, the women always seem to have alot of energy working in his films that I just don't seem to get in other titles featuring black women.
The basic setup for each scene was a short interview with the two women as they caress each other and undress. From there, they would take turns eating each other out until, a male performer would come in to join in the action.
All of the scenes in this movie were good but the one that really stood out was the last one with Lexi and another sexy light skinned woman that was listed in the biographies as "Peaches 2" but I don't think that was her name. These two women are absolutely gorgeous and it was understandable why TT Boy barely let them take off their clothes before he was jumping in the action. Although I might have liked to see the women get some one on one time with each other, this scene was great. "Peaches 2" showed alot of energy in this scene doing some great reverse cowgirl and giving alot of great moans begging for TT to get rough with her. And of course Lexi could do no wrong with a body like hers. Although she didn't have the energy of "Peaches 2", just seeing her butt go up and down in the cowgirl position was enough for me.
The extras included some behind the scenes and masturbation scenes from the women in the movie which was a pleasant surprise for me.
I recommend this movie to anyone who enjoys watching threesomes, girl/girl action, and black women with round asses.

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About the late Wilton Sankawolo and I been privileged to be in Liberia as my friend and colleague passed away, I would have asked permission to read beside his bier a short biography of his father that he authored and which appeared in a 1974 publication (“Anthology of Liberian Literature”). It remains my wish that the biography incorporated in this tribute be read at one of the funeral occasions and hopefully printed in the local newspapers. The late Wilton Sankawolo I first met Wilton Sankawulo at Cuttington College and Divinity School (now Cuttington University) in Suacoco in 1963. He was a class ahead of me. More than a decade later we found ourselves in the service of the Liberian government, he at the Information Ministry and I at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The latter part of the 1970s found us together at the Ministry of State for Presidential Affairs. When the 1980 coup d’etat struck we were both in trouble. We survived by the grace of God, he remaining at the Executive Mansion and I moving on to university work. Wilton remained in the thicket of Liberian politics in the 1980s, and was even drawn into the politics of interim governance in the turbulent years of the 1990s. Renewal of war in 2003 led him to eventually join some of us already leading our lives in exile. We renewed contact, often exchanging e-mail messages and spending a lot of time on the phone, talking about our respective writing interests. Our last encounter was in Monrovia in early December 2008. As I extend the condolences of my family to his widow, children and other relatives, I do so not only as a friend and colleague, but also in homage to a major Liberian literary figure. Sankawulo follows a long tradition of writers of Liberian literature beginning perhaps with Joseph Jeffrey Walters, a Vai-Liberian novelist who wrote more than 100 years ago what belated was hailed as the “first book of long fiction by an African to be published in English.” (Guanya Pau published 1891). Walters would be followed by scores of others who deserve to be more widely known and read especially in Liberia. Let this generation of Liberians acknowledge its writer sons and daughters for they are the real articulators of the Liberian identity, an identity so little understood and thus so often manipulated to the detriment of Liberia. In his LIFE IS ETERNAL: ESSAY IN MEMORY OF MY FATHER, Wilton Sankawulo writes passionately about his Kpelle and Gola background though he situates the experiences lived squarely in the context of Liberia. WILTON SANKAWULO LIFE IS ETERNAL Essay in Memory of My Father But I shall sleep, for where is any death While in these blue hills slumberous overhead I’m rooted like a tree? Though I be dead This soil that holds me fast will find me breath. He was a Kpelle man, as far as I can gather, though he spoke Gola fluently. By the same token I consider myself both Kpelle and Gola even though my knowledge of Gola is exceedingly scarce. My father spent his early childhood in Golaland, and he often spoke of those early days with extreme sentiments. His sentimental reminiscences of Golaland were brief, sporadic, and amusing anecdotes. They were never connected with a sustained plot to be designated as a story. Consequently they never made anything more than a passive impression on me. I do not know how he came to settle in Haindi; I think something of the cosmopolitan semblance of the town had to do with it. Though Haindi was a secluded village in the old times, it was the confluence of Liberian cultures. Vai, Mande, and Mandingo people lived there, carrying on some meagre amount of trading. They brought the Koran. Three features of the Islamic faith I admired were (1) the group prayers. While praying in a group the Moslems would dress in long, white gowns and speak Arabic. (2) At the end of Ramadan, they would conduct festive celebrations. At this time they would be extremely generous, mirthful, and they would dance about the town in frolic. (3) A last impression 1 remember was the boys reciting wala, brief quotations from the Koran written on slates. They would sit patiently by their houses each morning and read by rote until they were tired out. These practices were observed with rigid regularity. As Haindi was on the border with Golaland, Gola and Kpelle traditions mingled. Sometimes the Kpelle people and the Gola people made farms together and. joined the same Poro and Sande societies. I noticed that those who were considered the best singers sang in Gola. I do not think it was because Gola was more melodic than Kpelle. A lot could be said rapidly in Gola without making the song sound awkward. Haindi was also a stopping point for travelers (Mande, Kissi, Gbande, Loma) on their way to and from the northern part of Liberia, fondly called Upriver. I remember many of these travelers personally. Their arrival and departure from Haindi were always a curiosity. They carried their acquisitions in kenjas hooked to their backs. I remember Fayah, a Kissi traveler who died in Haindi. His death created considerable sensation among his fellow travelers who considered it as a calculated injustice. I remember Landa, a Gbande dancing devil, who accompanied some Gbande travelers to Haindi. He was probably Liberia’s best entertainer: he sang well — he sang in a beautiful, soft, and resonant voice. His beauty was mesmeric. He dressed in a beautiful raffia skirt. He had long, bearded jaws that radiated a paternal effect. His red mouth was dotted with red, conical teeth. He repeatedly opened his mouth and closed it with a clap sound on the last note of a song. Landa curiously wore a deck of feathers at the back of his head, and he actually mimicked the songs of the birds whose feathers he wore. Landa always carried an atmosphere of romance. All I found repulsive about him was his excessive speed. Like a flash of lightning, he would run from one place to another, regardless of the distance. His admirers usually watched him with apprehension for nobody knew the direction his amazing speed would take, and it was ominous for a living person to clash with a devil. But Landa never ran into anyone. My father was a strong man though such an admission may not be anything more than trite. Every son believes his father is the most powerful creature on earth. The ancient Romans admonished us to speak only good of the dead. But my father was not given to flattery. I have no intention of making him appear more worthy in death than he was in life: he was often petty, querulous, subject to outrageous intransigence where his own interest was at stake. He wanted the world to adjust itself to him rather than his adjusting to the world. We blame the Church for teaching us that the earth is the center of the universe and everything created in the universe was designed for man’s convenience, for we realize that life is always in contest with the natural forces of the universe. Earthquake, flood, lightning storms, worms, mosquitoes, germs, and other innumerable disasters are no respecters of life. We say this is ascribable to sinful human nature, but those who overcome sin and become good are the first to die. The better man you try to be the more vulnerable you become. The fact is that nature is a mystery, it creates and destroys at the same time. Death and life are always walking side by side. Death begins at birth and life begins at death. The vision between life and death, however, is profound and extraordinary — man is required to use it to understand his situation rather than take to superstition. While the Church is trying to place the earth in the center of the universe with difficulty, there are individuals I have known (my father included) who believe they’re the ones to occupy that place. The odds against such a possibility are so numerous and overwhelming that we need not speculate upon them. When I say that my father was a strong man I am aware of the fact that I was born in his old age — the unsettling effect of his tarnishing years was reasonably responsible for his quarrels with the world. He loved people, and I believe it was even more so in his youth because he told me stories of his engagement in tribal wars as well as perilous elephant hunts. Only a sociable man would pursue such projects. He worked without respite to eke out existence for us in the jungles. He held tenaciously to the cutlass to the very end. He wanted me to be a hard worker, or more correctly, a farmer, but contrary to his expectations I was given to revere. I preferred being alone most often, reading tales or inventing characters and plots in my mind. When he noticed my interest in tales, he told me a few of them, full of wild adventures and intrigue, such as “The Marriage of Beauty”, “Animals Run For Their Horns”, and “A Breach of Promise”. A most fascinating epic tale he told me, which could even provide materials for a whole book, was about the annual trips the Kpelle people of Fuama Chiefdom made to White Plains to barter rice, coffee, palm kernels, and other produce in stores operated by some Germans. The physical endurance required of them, the harassment of the Gola people they encountered on these long journeys to the coast, engendered romantic heroes and adventures. I loved his cherished fantasies and his concept of true manhood: endurance, courage, self-reliance, love for work, friendship. I want to adopt these virtues so when I see him again I will say, “I tried to be a man.” On August 19, 1959, my father died. Four weeks before his death I sat by him on a bamboo bed, a blaze of fire dancing timorously among pieces of twig in the fireplace. He was wrapped up in a yellowish sheet of country cloth from his feet up to his armpits, lying on his left side, facing the dark mud wall. I had been on an evangelistic mission for the Lutheran Church in Wenita, near Totota. I tried to convert the people of Wenita, but they peculiarly evaded conversion. They wanted conversion but, first of all they wanted to live. In the daytime they worked with utmost perseverance on their farms, and in the evening they went to bed soon. I had little to no chance to preach to them. My evangelistic mission was proving abortive; yet I had to show evidence of their conversion if I would be successful. While I was worrying about this a villager brought me a letter from home which said that my father was dying. He wanted to tell me some last things; so I should hurry home. Impulsively I ran into the house in which I was lodging, packed my clothes and books in a wooden box, shouldered it, and went to Totota where I boarded a pickup truck for Haindi. It was raining heavily when I arrived home, a violent onslaught of water washed the hard, laterite soil of the town. When I stepped down from the pickup one of my nieces spied me and ran to me excitedly, declaring my arrival. My mother and sister, most depressed, who sat on the porch saw me and began crying, beating their breasts, wriggling on the dusty, earth floor as if by so doing they could make Father get well. I decided not to cry because Father never welcomed tears on my face. “If you cry what will the women do?” he often told me. I went to the porch; Sister suddenly turned sober and directed me to the room where Father lay. My brother-in-law came in — all of us sat down, speechless for a moment, staring about in dismay. Now and then Sister would poke at the fire with a piece of sapling, blow on it so it would stop smouldering and sending painful smoke into our eyes and nostrils. In spite of her effort smoke clouded the room, our eyes watered, the humid air was suffocating. Our concern made all this bearable. Some casual friends were called when Father began giving the farewell message. “I’m leaving the family with you,” he began. “You’re a true son of the land.” I thought incidentally of the kola tree which stood on the outskirts of the town over my navel cord as a testimony of the fact. (When the navel cord — or umbilical cord — of a baby drops off, the Kpelle people usually bury it with a kola nut which grows up as a tree to tie him to the land and also show that he is a true citizen of the land.) Of course he did not only want me to remember constantly that I was a Liberian. His tenacious claim to the land was also due to the fact that he wanted to leave me some inheritance, a solemn tradition not to be forgotten. If he had no property to leave, at least he brought me into a special geography; that should be inheritance enough. I confirmed this by telling him I was proud of being a Liberian, and I entertained the fact with utmost gratitude and delight that he was leaving Liberia with me or leaving me with Liberia. I would certainly try to make my contributions whenever I got the opportunity and work hard to be successful. “Well,” he coughed and took a long breath, “I wish all your relatives were here. They won’t have any property to inherit. Maybe that’s why many of them are not here. All the same, I’m leaving them with you. Take good care of them.” Father never reconciled himself with our poverty. Under the circumstances he did the most humanly thing possible: he defended his land, he supported his children until they were old enough to fend for themselves, he was lucky to grow old to become an elder of the land, a peacemaker — this was a saga of bravery and achievement which if any of us inherited would lead perhaps to success. However, he believed greatly in material success. And as the educated man in the modern world stood the best chance of making money, I would be the next hope for the family because I had joined forces with the world of education. Whether I would be able to survive in this world or not was not important. I left him dying and went back to school because he wanted it that way. I should know book to be able to write it with my right hand and my left hand, know book so whenever anyone woke me in the middle of the night and said something in English I would know what he meant. Book meant everything. I never put it this way, though I valued education. I returned to school to begin the last semester of my high school career, regretting the fact that he might possibly not live to see me finish high school. After a couple of weeks of schooling, the principal called me to his office one day. A student would normally grow apprehensive when summoned to “The Office”, because it was usually only in case of misbehavior one would be asked to see the principal. Reviewing in my mind the events of the last two weeks, I remembered doing nothing wrong, so I could only imagine that he wanted to announce the death of my father to me. This occurred to me despite his effort to sound as informal as possible so that I wouldn’t detect it. When I later saw him it was not surprising to learn that Father was dead. I had thought of it as a strong possibility, because sickness at his age was extremely dangerous. I could not feel sad, though I felt a part of me dead. Like Macbeth, you are bound to find yourself beyond feelings if you live with misfortunes for a long time. We were menaced by poverty and disease at home, and we were harassed by harsh reproaches, punishment, and moral condemnation in the mission school. Therefore, my father’s death was just another assault of my daily misfortunes. I went home and met my mother and sisters with tousled hair, their bodies covered with dust and ashes, weeping. I had never been aware of this aspect of our culture. Farewell gun salutes echoed down the St. Paul River near which Father was buried. People from many villages came to pay him their last respects. Some brought us white chickens, white clothes, white kola nuts, and white coins as consolations. The funeral was, of course, over. Communication difficulty delayed my awareness of Father’s death for almost a week. And it was contrary to Kpelle custom to keep the corpse of a man unburied for more than four days. In fact, the harsh climate of the tropics does not permit it. My brother, brother-in-law, nephew and some friendly townsmen assembled around me, telling me to be a man. They escorted me to his grave. It began to drizzle. We ran quickly to the grave, gave four gun salutes and returned to the town. As we returned I wished I had some privacy at the grave. Not that I had anything much to say to my father — he never taught me any of the enchanting, esoteric words uttered in salutation to the dead because as a so-called civilized man I had to refrain from such things. I simply wanted to thank him for the grim struggles he put forth for our survival, ask him to take my greetings to the ancestral spirits, and tell him that life is eternal and death will never make it perishable. May the soul of Wilton Sankawulo and the souls of all the faithful departed rest in peace.

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THE WOLF PACK GIVES BACK: WE WANT YOU!

PUBLIC TALK
Thursday, April 23, 7pm
Calling all socially conscious individuals to kick off The Wolfsonian's community service networking group, Wolf Pack Gives Back. Make friends and help Miami. The launch begins with a talk about community action by Ted Baker, a landscape architect and retired FIU professor, followed by a screening of the documentary Eden's Lost and FoundPhiladelphia (2006, USA, Harry Wiland, 57 min, English, color, DVD). Learn how community-based volunteer groups in Philadelphia bettered their community despite budget cuts. For more information and service dates, see upcoming events below. Free.

DON'T FORGET...FREE GALLERY ADMISSION ON FRIDAYS FROM 6-9PM
Free admission begins at 6pm. Join us for a guided tour at 6pm, and innovative programming at 7pm. Galleries remain open until 9pm.



OPPOSITE:
Poster, Hold Up Your End!, 1918
Designed by William B. King (American, 18801927)
Published by the American Red Cross, New York
The WolfsonianFIU, Miami Beach, Florida,
Gift of Elizabeth Loomis Norton and Richard M. Norton
2001.13.4

CONTENTS

CALENDAR ON VIEW DYNAMO HIGHLIGHT UPCOMING EVENT




1001 Washington Ave.
Miami Beach, FL 33139
T 305.531.1001 F 305.531.2133
wolfsonian.org


MUSEUM HOURS DYNAMO MUSEUM STORE CAFE
Mon., Tues.: Noon-6pm
Thurs., Fri.: Noon-9pm
Sat., Sun.: Noon-6pm
Wed.: Closed

Free admission after 6pm on Fridays

THINKISM THURSDAYS
Join us for a tour at 6pm, and most nights include a program.

CURRENT EXHIBITIONS

Art and Design in the Modern Age: Selections from The Wolfsonian Collection

American Streamlined Design: The World of Tomorrow


CONTACT US

RSVP: 305.535.2645
rsvp@thewolf.fiu.edu

MEMBERSHIP: 305.535.2631 membership@thewolf.fiu.edu

PROGRAMS: 305.535.2644
programs@thewolf.fiu.edu


INFO: 305.531.1001
information@thewolf.fiu.edu


MUSEUM SHOP: 305.535.2680
museumshop@thewolf.fiu.edu

DYNAMO CAFE: 305.535.1457
dynamo@lyonandlyon.com





CALENDAR

WOLF BOOK CLUB
Be a part of our book club! Participants must be Wolfsonian members and will receive a twenty percent discount on book club selections purchased in The Dynamo Museum Shop. To join or to RSVP: 305.535.2644 or education@thewolf.fiu.edu. Free.

Friday, April 3, 7pm
THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS by Booth Tarkington (1918)This Pulitzer Prizewinning novel about life in the American Midwest contrasts the declining fortunes of an American dynasty over three generations with the country's industrial growth and the ascendance of the "new money" class. The novel, second in a trilogy, depicts the descent of George Amberson Minafer from aristocracy to the working class.


PERFORMANCE
Saturday, April 4, 2:30pm
CONCERT V OF THE 2009 NEW MUSIC MIAMI ISCM FESTIVALJoin guest composer Ana Laura for a pre-performance talk, followed by a concert of new music from the Americas featuring the Amernet String Quartet with guest guitarist Jaime Marques from Mexico. Works by Ana Laura (Mexico), Steve Gerber (USA), and Orlando Jacinto García (Cuba/USA) are featured. For more information: contact the FIU Box office at 305.348.0496 or visit the festival's website at http://music.fiu.edu. Free.

SPECIAL EVENT
Thursday, April 9, 7pm
WOLF PACK DEN NIGHT PUB QUIZJoin the Wolf Pack for a night of trivia, pub food, and Grolsch beer. We'll battle wits over esoterica large and small, past and present. RSVP requested: 305.535.2631 or rsvp@thewolf.fiu.edu.

FILM
Thursday, April 16, 7pm
HOMO BABY BOOM (2008, Spain, Anna Boluda, 27 min, Catalan with English subtitles, color, DVD)What are the effects of legal changes in Spain that allow same-sex marriage and adoption? This documentary follows six families with lesbian or gay parents in Catalonia and Valencia. A discussion featuring local experts of GLBT Studies and Cultural Studies takes place after the screening. Co-presented by Centro Cultural Español. Free.

CINEMA 2 AT THE WOLF
is an ongoing documentary film series presented in collaboration with WPBT-Channel 2.

Thursday, April 30, 7pm
INHERITANCE (2008, USA, James Moll, 75 min, English, color, DVD)Monika Hertwig is the daughter of the sadistic Nazi commander of the Plaszow concentration camp, Amon Goeth (portrayed in Schindler's List). This documentary details the meeting between Hertwig, who has spent her life haunted by her father's actions, and Helen Jonas, a Holocaust survivor who was enslaved in Goeth's household and later rescued by Schindler. Jonas and Hertwig meet at the Plaszow camp memorial and visit the still-standing villa where Goeth (and Jonas) lived. The idea for the film grew out of a conversation Hertwig had with director Moll when he contacted her about an unrelated project. "I am not my father," Hertwig said. Moll later recalled, "That statement became the genesis of Inheritance." Presented in collaboration with P.O.V., PBS' award-winning nonfiction film series. Free.

TOURS
Each Thursday and Friday, 6pm
Consider how an array of historical, cultural, and political trends inspired design of the machine age with a guided exhibition tour each Thursday and Friday night at 6pm. Friday tours are free.



ON VIEW

MOUTON ROTHSCHILD-PAINTINGS FOR THE LABELS
Organized by The WolfsonianFIU in cooperation with Baron Philippe de Rothschild S.A.
ON VIEW THROUGH APRIL 19, 2009

Since 1924 and beginning with the famous poster designer Jean Carlu, Château Mouton-Rothschild has commissioned works from some of the most distinguished international artists of their times to illustrate their wine labels. See a selection of the original artwork created over the past 85 years by Salvador Dali, Marc Chagall, Pablo Picasso, Robert Motherwell, Andy Warhol, Keith Haring, Francis Bacon, Rufino Tamayo, among others, and discover which artist adorns the 2006 vintage.

AMERICAN STREAMLINED DESIGN: THE WORLD OF TOMORROW
Organized and circulated by the Liliane and David M. Stewart Program for Modern Design, Montreal
ON VIEW THROUGH MAY 17, 2009


Surveying a particularly American version of Modernism, American Streamlined Design presents over 185 works in diverse materials, from Bakelite to stainless steel, organized thematically around the spheres of American life in the 1930s50s: the kitchen and bath, the living room, the office and workroom, manual labor, and recreation. The exhibition is drawn from the Eric Brill Collection, the largest known on this subject, and supplemented by works from the Stewart Collection of 20th-Century Design and The Wolfsonian.

ART AND DESIGN IN THE MODERN AGE: SELECTIONS FROM THE WOLFSONIAN COLLECTION
ONGOING

The Wolfsonian-FIU holds an astounding collection of modern objectsboth the rare and the overlooked from the 1885 to 1945 era, demonstrating the active role design plays in motivating actions, expressing ideas, creating desires, and shaping identities. Exhibition themes underscore designers' responses to new materials and technologies, the role of graphic design as an instrument of political and commercial persuasion, and the nature of state-sponsored public art and architecture programs.


DYNAMO HIGHLIGHT

The Dynamo Café's eclectic menu features a delicious array of soups, sandwiches, and salads, as well as a coffee bar and special dessert and tea menus. The museum shop is the destination for unique toys, jewelry, books, fashion, accessories and housewares.


DAZZLING DAILY LUNCH SPECIAL
Shop till you drop, then lunch at The Dynamo for $10 pp, plus tax and tip. Lunch special menu includes a Chef's entrée of the day and iced tea.

THINKISM THURSDAYS
Energy Hours at The Dynamo take place from 6-9pm and include two-for-one drink specials, a tapas menu, and all your favorite board games.

FREE FRIDAYS, 6-9 PM
Free admission to galleries from 6-9pm. Energy Hours at The Dynamo take place from 6-9pm and include two-for-one drink specials, a tapas menu, and all your favorite board games. Exhibition tour at 6pm. Recharge your batteries for the weekend.

For more information on menus or to reserve your table at The Dynamo, please call 305.535.1457 or email dynamo@lyonandlyon.com.


UPCOMING EVENTS

Saturdays, May 9, June 6, July 11
WOLF PACK GIVES BACKWould you like to help others in the community by contributing your time and skills? The Wolfsonian wants you! Join Wolf Pack Gives Back to learn, network, and give back to the community. As an added bonus, you can even earn discounted museum membership. Projects may include Habitat for Humanity of Greater Miami, Shake-A-Leg-Miami, Lotus House, and others. Times to be determined. For more information: 305.535.2644 or lydia@thewolf.fiu.edu.

The Wolfsonian receives ongoing support from the State of Florida, Department of State, Division of Cultural Affairs, the Florida Arts Council; the National Endowment for the Arts; the Miami-Dade County Department of Cultural Affairs and the Cultural Affairs Council, the Miami-Dade County Mayor and Board of County Commissioners; the City of Miami Beach, Cultural Affairs Program, Cultural Arts Council; the Arthur F. and Alice E. Adams Foundation; William J. and Tina Rosenberg Foundation; Continental Airlines, the Official Airline of The Wolfsonian-FIU; The Miami Herald; Miami.com; Bacardi U.S.A., Inc.; Robert Mondavi Winery; and Pistils Petals.

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interact with each child individuallyjuvenile court personnel working in conjunction with treatment providersshould continue to be allowed to determine whether a childs offense was a youthful indiscretion, a manifestation of a mental illness or other behavioral health problem, or a sign of a child who is not amenable to treatment and who poses an ongoing threat to public safety.

Including children on an internet-based registry also puts those children at risk of being targeted for harassment and abuse. A pedophile could use the online registry to find victims. The registry will provide him with the names, pictures, and home addresses for children as young as 14, as well as the names of the schools they attend, the cars they drive, their license plate numbers, and other identifying information. Many juvenile sex offenders were themselves victims before they committed their offenses, and are especially vulnerable to further victimization.

Additionally, many juvenile sex offenses are intra-familial. During deliberations in the Ohio General Assembly on SB 10, testimony was heard from several parents with a child who sexually offended on a sibling. Those parents testified about the conflicts they face, as parents of both a juvenile sex offender and a victim of sexual abuse. In these situations, the offender and the victim receive much-needed treatment only if their parents are willing to speak up and seek help. Undoubtedly, many parents will be unwilling to ask for help if doing so resigns one child to a lifetime of inclusion on an internet-based registry, with all the restrictions on schooling, employment, and residency it entails, as well as potential threats to that childs safety. As a result, in many instances, neither offender nor victim will receive the treatment they need.

The risk of mandatory, lifetime inclusion on a public registry will also mean that children facing charges for sex offenses will be less likely to plead guilty and more likely to go to trial, thus exposing the victim and others to the trauma of testifying and to other intrusive aspects of the criminal justice system. And childrens defense counsel will certainly work to get sex offense charges reduced to non-sex offense charges, such as assault, in order to avoid the severe consequences of lifetime inclusion on the public registry. But a child adjudicated delinquent for assault is unlikely to receive sex offender treatment, which results in tremendous lost opportunities for treatment and the prevention of further harm.

The list of offenses to be included on the public registry may seem to target only the worst of the worst of juvenile sex offenders. But in Ohio, the offenses recognized as equating to the federal definition of aggravated sexual abuserape, sexual battery, and gross sexual impositioninclude a wide range of behaviors.

Several years ago, my office represented a 16-year-old boy. On the school bus, Brian sat next to a 15-year-old girl whom he had dated previously. He touched his former girlfriends breasts through her clothes, and attempted, unsuccessfully, to put his hand down her pants. The girl testified at trial that Brian had put his hand down her pants bout to the knuckle line. Brian was adjudicated delinquent for attempted rape and gross sexual imposition.

In another example of a client my office represented, a 14-year-old boy, and several other children had been at a friends house without parental supervision. Zach and some of the boys had stolen bottles of alcohol, and the girls had set up a tent in the yard. At some point in the evening, Zach and a 10-year-old girl, who had become boyfriend and girlfriend earlier that day, were lying on their sides next to each other in the tent. He put his arm over the girls midsection and touched her below her beltline but did not put his hand in between her legs. Zach was adjudicated delinquent for gross sexual imposition on a victim under the age of 13.

My office also represented whose case highlights many of the problems typically found in juvenile courts. Michael was removed from his mothers custody at the age of 11, after being physically abused, and over the next several years was placed in seven different foster homes. He is very low-functioning and has been diagnosed with attention deficit disorder, extreme mood swings, and reactive attachment disorder. Despite this, Michael was adjudicated delinquent for gross sexual imposition without being represented by counsel. Michael certainly should have been evaluated for his competency to face the GSI complaint, but he had no attorney to raise the issue, and Ohio lacks a competency statute for juveniles.

The Adam Walsh Act purports to protect society from dangerous sexual predators, like the adult pedophiles, unknown to their victims, who kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and murdered Adam Walsh, Jacob Wetterling, Jessica Lunsford, and the other children for whom the legislation is named. But, with the overly broad requirements of the Adam Walsh Act and Ohios SB 10, Ohioans instead find themselves from children like Brian, Zach, and Michael.

The year that Ohio implemented the Adam Walsh Act also marked the 40th anniversary of In re Gault, the landmark U.S. Supreme Court decision that granted many basic due process rights to children in juvenile court, including the right to advance notice of the charges, the right to a fair and impartial hearing, and the right to be represented by counsel. But Gault did not grant full due process protections to juveniles facing delinquency complaints. Notably absent are a childs right to a grand jury determination of probable cause and the right to an open and speedy trial by jury. And, at least in Ohio, juveniles have yet to fully realize the promises of Gault. A recent study found that two-thirds of children facing unruly or delinquency complaints are not represented by counsel when they appear in Ohios juvenile courts.

The failure to fully protect juveniles constitutional rights is certainly not limited to Ohio. Last month, two Luzerne County, Pennsylvania judges pled guilty to receiving $2.6 million in kickbacks to send juveniles to certain juvenile detention facilities. A lawsuit filed by the Juvenile Law Center on behalf of 70 families affected by this scandal alleges that the two judges violated the rights of juveniles in ways that went beyond the kickback scheme.10 The lawsuit asserts that in a wave of unprecedented lawlessness, the judges failed to advise youth of their right to counsel, accepted their guilty pleas without explaining the charges against them, and garnished the wages of their parents to pay the costs of detention. If Pennsylvania were to adopt the Adam Walsh Acts overly broad offense-based system, some of these youth, forced to enter admissions to sexual offenses in courts that showed complete disregard for their constitutional rights, would automatically be labeled Tier III and subject to lifetime registration and notification.

The Guidelines for implementation, issued by the SMART Office, instruct that registration need not be required on the basis of a foreign conviction if the conviction was not obtained with sufficient safeguards for fundamental fairness and due process The Guidelines fail to acknowledge, however, that only limited due process protections are offered to children in juvenile court. By placing juvenile sex offenders on a public registry, the Adam Walsh Act imposes adult sanctions on juvenile defendants. It treats a select group of children who appear in juvenile court differently than other children who appear in juvenile court; it treats them more like adult sex offenders than like children. And it does so without regard to the limited due process protections offered to children in juvenile court.

Limited due process protections make the retroactive application of the Adam Walsh Act especially inappropriate for juveniles. Children who have already been through the juvenile court systemwithout full due process protections and perhaps without even being represented by counselcould never have anticipated that lifetime inclusion on a public registry would someday be a consequence of their juvenile court proceeding.

Recognizing the unique qualities and needs of children, the juvenile court system was established to focus on treatment, supervision, and control, rather than solely on punishment. Inclusion on a public registry, though, will significantly limit treatment and aftercare options for juvenile sex offenders. Many group homes, foster homes, and community placements will not accept children with sex offenses in their histories. Children on a public registry with community notification requirements will be nearly impossible to place for or after treatment. As a result, many juvenile sex offenders will be kept in juvenile correctional facilities far beyond the time it takes them to complete treatment. Children will be incarcerated not because they need further treatment or pose a risk to public safety, but only because public policy will prevent them from going anywhere else. This is a dramatic, and ill-advised, shift in the focus of the juvenile court system from treatment to punishment.

Subjecting juvenile sex offenders to the same sanctions as adults raises legal and scientific questions about culpability and punishment, and the registration and notification requirements are inconsistent with the purposes of juvenile court: treatment and rehabilitation. Inclusion on an internet-based public registry will subject juveniles to social ostracism, limit access to educational and work opportunities, make it more difficult for juveniles to be placed with family or friends, and limit residential treatment options. And treating juvenile sex offenders in the same manner as adult sex offenders with respect to reporting, notification, and length of classification, even though juveniles have fewer legal rights and protections than adults, presents legal and Constitutional problems.

The plain language of the Adam Walsh Act requires that all children age 14 and older who are adjudicated delinquent for offenses comparable to or more severe than aggravated sexual abuse be included on the public, online registry of sex offenders. But the negative consequences of doing sofewer intra-familial crimes being reported, fewer offenders and victims receiving treatment, and children on the registry being targeted for abuse and exploitation, to name only a fewwould actually put states out of compliance with the stated intent of the Adam Walsh Act: protecting children from violent sex offenders.

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The saying that not all are created equal must be nearer to the truth for cars. ISO Quality Planning came out recently with a survey of cars that get the most incidence of tickets. Knowing that your car belongs to the list should be a concern for you, as insurance companies spot premiums from risks ranking of car's vulnerability to accidents and violations. Would you like to know how your car fares in the ticket-hungry category? We think it's better to give you the bad news first. Then as you read along, anticipate the good news. So check out below what ISO Quality Planning's survey found out.
TOP 10 Most Ticket-Hungry Cars - This is a list of the 10 top cars MOST likely to get pull over for speeding.
1. Hummer H2 The Hummer H2 is a massive-built, wider-than-average track vehicle. It appeals both to drivers who need a general purpose and an off-road vehicle. If the lion is the king of the jungle, this is certainly the king of the urban jungle with its bold, imposing looks. But it seems, the Hummer H2 is also king on every cop's list.
2. Scion tC Designed to appeal to the younger generation of today, Toyota's Scion tC, makes it to the top police list of attention-hungry cars. This could be linked to the higher-risk driver category of those behind its wheel.
3. Scion xB The xB is a 4-door, 5-passenger wagon which also has a strong appeal to younger drivers, like the Scion tC. Like its sleeker kin, Scion xB is a vehicle chased by tickets and violations.
4. Mercedes Benz CLK63 AMG Having a Mercedes, any model for that matter is enough to make you one notch up above lesser mortals. So, who cares if you get a few traffic violations for this baby?
5. Toyota Solara Coupe On the top 5 of the most ticketed vehicle is the Toyota Solara Coupe. The Solara is a 2-door, up to 5-passenger family coupe, or convertible. While it is not generally known for its road performance, it never fails to catch the fancy of fines and tickets.
6. Mercedes Benz CLS63 AMG The Mecedes Benz CLS63 AMG is anoth! er perfo rmance car that is worth unending ooh's and aah's. With a fast record on the road, its no wonder this machine is eye candy for the cops.
7. Scion xA The Scion xA, a five-door hatchback subcompact makes it to the 7th in the list of ticket-hungry cars. Toyota also designed it for the generation Y crowd, but it was surprisingly a hit as well with 30-ish drivers and beyond in a country known for its population's preference for massive, imposing cars.
8. Subaru Outback Subarus are sport utility vehicles known to be a grocery shopping favorite of yuppies. But the Subaru seem to be up for more action than just picking up the goods from the store, as it figures in the top 8 of attention-hungry cars.
9. Audi A4 Audi A4 ranks up in the list of 10 attention-hungry cars. While it is often seen behind Mercedeses and BMWs, in America it seems to have a high standing in the attention list of cops.
10. Toyota Matrix This 4-door, 5-passenger wagon is praised for its stylish design in the SUV category. Clearly a cop-stopper, the Toyota Matrix, landing on the 10th most attention hungry cars in the US, unquestionably yank it up with the rest of the cars fetching high auto insurance premiums. And now the good news. If your car is not in the list above, it might be down here. Or if you are planning to buy a car soon, then getting one of these below are good bets for your purchase.
TOP 10 Attention-Sloth Cars - This is a list of the 10 top cars LESS likely to get pull over for speeding.
1. Jaguar XJ If the list above gave you an idea that performance and luxury cars normally rack it up in the cop-favorites list, then you're wrong. The Jaguar XJ, with its cushy interior and impeccable road performance, is the most attention-sloth cars in the US, at least for violations.
2. Chevrolet Suburban This 4-door, 9-passenger sport-utility was designed to carry people or tow trailers. It is no candidate then for a speed demon, which explains perhaps its presence in the least-. So it's not surprising to see it on the ! list of least-ticketed cars.
3. Chevrolet Tahoe Despite bearing a similar exterior with the Hummer H2, the Tahoe is one of the most insurance-friendly car there is, given that it is in top of the list of cars that pass by police screens.
4. Chevrolet Silverado 2500 and 3500 it pays when your car was designed for its towing capabilities rather than its might on racing games. The Silverado is one of them, and this is validated by its appearance in the list of being less of a cop magnet.
5. Buick Park Avenue Buick has recently revamped its designs to show slicker varieties. But the Park Avenue, although discontinued, made the brand strongly associated with a more mature set of drivers known less for their risk-taking behavior than with their careful driving nature. No wonder Park Avenue is number 5 in this list.
6. Mazda6 If you prefer sporty sedans and yet abhor too much attention from the cops, then Mazda6 is for you. Being in both worlds is a rarity in the auto scene; so, you have to definitely check it out.
7. Buick Rainier Like the Park Avenue, Buick has discontinued Buick Rainier. But even then, before it became a "museum piece", the Rainier was one of the least-ticketed cars there is.
8. Oldsmobile Silhouette if you belong to the generation of the previous decade or so, then this minivan might not be within your radar. But this takes the 8th place of the least attention-hungry cars in the US.
9. Buick Lucerne A luxury but affordable car, the Buick Lucerne reaps more benefits for you in the longer run. Being one of the least ticketed car in the country, this one is an insurance premium raise stopper.
10. GMC Sierra 1500 A truck engineered for towing and hauling heavy loads, the GMC Sierra is the rugged choice for you. And it is also a dependable vehicle as it turns up in the top ten cop attention-sloth cars in the US. Find the best and ideal cheap auto insurance quote for your cars today! Visit our website now to get the best car insurance rates and save more money and time on affordable auto insurance.

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