The golden-fronted woodpecker (Melanerpes aurifrons) is a species of bird in the woodpecker family, Picidae. It is found in the southern United States, Mexico and parts of Central America. It inhabits mesic and xeric landscapes, including mesquite brushlands and riparian woodlands. It can also be found in urban parks and suburban areas. Males and females have the same plumage except for the pattern on their heads. Adult males have a red crown and a golden orange to yellow nape with a gap between them; females have a grayish crown and a paler yellow nape. The golden-fronted woodpecker has a diet of adult and larval arthropods, some aerial insects, fruit, nuts and corn, as well as occasionally eating other birds' eggs. The bird has a loud call and a short, slow drumming pattern. This male golden-fronted woodpecker was photographed perching on a branch in Copán, Honduras.Photograph credit: Charles J. Sharp
... that Queen Melisende(pictured) was so incensed by the rumours of her alleged infidelity that neither her husband nor his friends felt safe in her presence?
... that the questionnaire prepared after the Jewish Ethnographic Expedition had 2,087 questions and was called "a modern epic"?
... that during World War II, US Army casualty telegrams were sent out in the name of Major General James Alexander Ulio?
... that to raise funds for the Council of District Dumas, its chairman led an armed squad to storm the Moscow headquarters of the State Bank?
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It is so terribly sad that I have to explain that the above is a JOKE
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!