“We, unfortunately, had an accident with both drivers in Australia, and the next race we had two reliability issues,” explained Szafnauer. It was an assessment echoed by team principal Otmar Szafnauer prior to the final practice sessions on Friday. so when you compound a relatively lower-than-needed performance and poor execution, you are where we are.” and then we’ve made a couple of operational blunders, which is not what we are used to. “No, and we know it because we missed our development targets during the winter. When asked if Alpine’s race car was where it was expected to be at this point, CEO Laurent Rossi answered quickly. Yet despite it being early in the season, the results of the first four races were making the team’s intentions more challenging. And what better megaphone for its message than the 2023 Miami Grand Prix? This season, though, Alpine plans to amplify its presence stateside, both with track results and by building anticipation for its production cars by teasing the possibility that they could reach the North American market in the not-so-distant future. Its motorsport arm, the BWT Alpine F1 Team, is more well-known to Americans, primarily due to the Netflix sensation Drive to Survive, but has only been competing under that moniker since 2021. That’s understandable, since its cars are currently not sold in the country. Chris Graythen/Getty Imagesįrench marque Alpine, a subsidiary of Renault, is far from a household name in the U.S. Thoughts that lingered and grew until they came to the forefront like an emerging cicada, torpedoing my life, changing it beyond all recognition, in the year of 1999.Esteban Ocon of the BWT Alpine F1 Team. And yet I’ve met too many who suffer from the condition, of a similar age and of an identical theme, not to confabulate the existence of the UK’s AIDS awareness public service broadcasting with the terror that nestled in my developing mind. People with OCD are told not to interrogate the origins of our obsessions – the content of the thought isn’t as important as the broken cognitive process. Five other people, clinic employees and volunteers, were injured. December 1994, the month 23-year-old John Salvi walked into a Planned Parenthood clinic in Brookline, Massachusetts, pulled a rifle out of his duffle bag, and murdered two receptionists – Shannon Lowney, 25, and Leanne Nichols, 38. The song did appear on the 1996 compilation Safe and Sound: A Benefit in Response to the Brookline Clinic Violence, alongside music from a host of my favourite artists (Morphine, Scarce, Folk Implosion and Buffalo Tom’s Bill Janovitz). Incidentally, there’s another belief that the Bosstones hit song might be about abortion. It’s a phrase that’s thought to derive from the folklore of the ancient Indo-Europeans, since the belief once prevailed that spirits lived in trees to knock on wood was to summon the good spirits to help you, or to deafen the bad ones who might seek to do you harm. I knocked on wood so often that you could see the varnish on my sore knuckles. This was music that at the time infuriated me – fey, soppy, cerebral – and yet, with hindsight, embodies a time in pop – fun, communal, tuneful - I would welcome back warmly now. In the earworm chorus to ‘The Impression That I Get’, Barrett roars the line “Never had to knock on wood” over the parp of trumpets and saxophones that defined the largely wretched output of most 90’s ska punk. Yes, but what if they mixed my blood up with someone else’s? What if they’d labelled it incorrectly? What if… One evening I plotted to break into the clinic with the green door on the outskirts of Newcastle to check they hadn’t. You’d think that a blood test would answer my fears definitively. Were I to touch a wet surface of a bar, it was ‘proof’ I’d got it even if I hadn’t previously. I looked for signs and symbols in the cosmos that might guide me were I to find myself on a street that housed a branch of HMV, it was ‘proof’ I had the virus. All my obsessions shared the same central tenet what if? The inability to know for certain was what tormented me, and in 1999, it reached the demented state such ruminations had always threatened to. But the time I woke up and decided I was HIV positive was the first time I had a thought that genuinely derailed my life. With hindsight, it had always been there - I’d had strange, upsetting, sometimes difficult obsessions for years prior.
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