Podcasts about as aram

Aram Laloui is a Kenyan-born and raised businessman of Iranian descent. Having come from a family of unconventional thinkers, Aram strives to spread a message of love and inclusivity through his Bahai faith as well as the work he pours himself into. We spoke to Aram about his early life as an alumnus of one of Nairobi’s most prestigious institutions – St. Mary’s School – which he admits formed a great deal of his personality to-date. Not only did Aram meet life-long friends and business associates at St. Mary’s, but a lot of his experience of being accepted and loved came from his fellow Saints. For his university studies, Aram had the opportunity to travel to Vancouver, Canada, where he discovered his love for business in a whirlwind of homesickness and soul-searching while at the University of British Columbia. Together with another St. Mary’s veteran friend at UBC, they made the collective decision to cut their studies short and return home to Kenya to begin pursuing business together. Aram shared his growth as a young person striving for greatness, while battling the various uncertainties most young people can relate to today. Through love, family, business and education, he has found ways to continuously discover what his true purpose needs to look like. As Aram establishes himself as a force to reckon with in the Nairobi business scene, the importance of self-awareness and collaborative effort is not lost on him.   Part 1 of this interview: Aram Laloui (Part 1)   Follow Aram: Personal Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/aramlaloui Zana (Real Estate Marketing): https://www.instagram.com/zanagroup Hummingbird Transport: https://www.instagram.com/hummingbirdtransport   ______________   Check out more episodes: https://www.geekhappynetwork.com/represented   _______________   Subscribe to the podcast on your favorite podcast app: Apple Podcasts https://tinyurl.com/yctqmjfw Spotify: https://tinyurl.com/yc3jvb4b Google Podcasts: https://tinyurl.com/yczq9buh   _______________   Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/representedpodcast/   This podcast is presented by Geek Happy Network. Check out other shows at geekhappynetwork.com

Aram Laloui is a Kenyan-born and raised businessman of Iranian descent. Having come from a family of unconventional thinkers, Aram strives to spread a message of love and inclusivity through his Bahai faith as well as the work he pours himself into. We spoke to Aram about his early life as an alumnus of one of Nairobi’s most prestigious institutions – St. Mary’s School – which he admits formed a great deal of his personality to-date. Not only did Aram meet life-long friends and business associates at St. Mary’s, but a lot of his experience of being accepted and loved came from his fellow Saints. For his university studies, Aram had the opportunity to travel to Vancouver, Canada, where he discovered his love for business in a whirlwind of homesickness and soul-searching while at the University of British Columbia. Together with another St. Mary’s veteran friend at UBC, they made the collective decision to cut their studies short and return home to Kenya to begin pursuing business together. Aram shared his growth as a young person striving for greatness, while battling the various uncertainties most young people can relate to today. Through love, family, business and education, he has found ways to continuously discover what his true purpose needs to look like. As Aram establishes himself as a force to reckon with in the Nairobi business scene, the importance of self-awareness and collaborative effort is not lost on him.   Part 2 of this interview: Aram Laloui (Part 2)   Follow Aram: Personal Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/aramlaloui Zana (Real Estate Marketing): https://www.instagram.com/zanagroup Hummingbird Transport: https://www.instagram.com/hummingbirdtransport   ______________   Check out more episodes: https://www.geekhappynetwork.com/represented   _______________   Subscribe to the podcast on your favorite podcast app: Apple Podcasts https://tinyurl.com/yctqmjfw Spotify: https://tinyurl.com/yc3jvb4b Google Podcasts: https://tinyurl.com/yczq9buh   _______________   Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/representedpodcast/   This podcast is presented by Geek Happy Network. Check out other shows at geekhappynetwork.com

With the help of the nurse, Red escapes Katarina and recovers only to be tracked to the one man Red doesn't want Katarina to find. As for Steinhil? Looks like he is a Ghost! Support the Show! Be sure to #FillTheFedora on Patreon. Case Profile for Louis T. Steinhil Louis T. Steinhil and Katarina Rostova share pleasantries over the exsanguination of our beloved Red. The nurse Mila now known as Francesca, ends up helping red escape only because she is a pawn in Katarina's greater plan. Track Red to Dom’s house. We learn about an incident in Belgrade that supposedly put a rift between Dom and Katarina - making the rear view window story less believable now since that doesn’t seem like it was the last time he saw her. Katarina storms the farm house injuring Dom, only to have her plan foiled by Liz and the team. Everyone survives barely as Dom 's life hangs in the balance with only Francesca left to save his life. Elsewhere, Louis T. Steinhil is cleaning up loose ends at his criminal holding tank when the FBI find him and he kills himself. That is if you believe this illusion. As Aram goes to followup with the medical examiner about the deceased Steinhil it turns out the body never shows up at the examiners office. The pickup was called off by an agent named G. Host. Be sure to answer our profiling question of the week: Is this THE Katarina Rostova? Visit our feedback page to leave a response or call +1 (304) 837-2278. Louis T Steinhil In Pictures Here are a just a few of our favorite scenes from this week. Red's Rhetoric for Louis T. Steinhil Welcome to Red's Rhetoric that part of the show where we feature two great scenes from Red himself then you get to vote for your favorite in our online poll. This week we explore the two very different sides of red. First up the compassionate vs ruthless side of Red as he talks to Francesca. Our second, the ruthless vs compassionate side of Red as he talks with Liz. Which was your favorite. If you like Frankie are not going anywhere vote #RedTrapped or if you feel a soft pot as Red sits by Dom’s side vote #RedYours. The Music of Louis T Steinhil Our first tune this week is when Katarina finally arrives at Dom’s house. Over the battle we hear “Death March” by Algiers . Later As Francesca operates on Dom to save his life we hear “Force of Habit” by Charlie Cunningham. You can hear these songs via the official Blacklist playlist on Spotify or the same playlist recreated by us on Apple Music.  Keep Connected Each week of The Blacklist Exposed will take a deep look at both the minor and major plot lines to this fantastic series. Be sure to subscribe and review us in Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, or through whichever podcast app you prefer. Also check out our other Golden Spiral Media Podcasts. A special thanks to Veruca Crews for creating our podcast cover art. If you love it, be sure to check out the rest of her Blacklist and other artwork on her tumblr page. Thanks for listening! We’ll talk to you soon. In the meantime, be sure to keep yourself off, The Blacklist.  Send Us Feedback: Check out our Feedback Form! Call our voicemail: (304)837-2278 Email Us Connect With Us: Facebook Community Twitter Instagram Tumblr Troy's Twitter Aaron's Twitter Subscribe to The Blacklist Exposed: Apple Podcasts,  Google Podcasts,  Spotify,  Pandora,  RSS Feed

I imagine the guys who first faced Bill Russell felt like I did when I had to guard Antoine Carr in high school. I “held” Carr to 32 points. But no dunks! Russell's opponents in college and the NBA rarely fared any better. Sports talk is full of hyperbole, but in Russell's case most of it is true. In his time, he was far and away the best player to ever step on the court and, for most of his career, he completely owned every court he stepped on. He was so dominant that they changed the rules so less gifted players would have a chance. Bill Russell, however, was not only a surpassingly great basketball player, he was also an African American star in an era in which being an African American star (or just being an African American) was very complicated. Today we are used to seeing outstandingly successful blacks in all (or almost all) spheres of life. In the mid-1950s that just wasn't true. The American ruling elite was lily white, and that's the way most white Americans thought it should be. Bill Russell (and Jackie Robinson, Althea Gibson, Willie Mays, Cassius Clay, Jim Brown, among others) were anomalies: they were black, but they were both extraordinarily accomplished and remarkably famous. They couldn't just be athletes; they had to be symbols of some promising (or frightening) new world as well. That's quite a burden to bear. In King of the Court: Bill Russell and the Basketball Revolution (University of California Press, 2010), Aram Goudsouzian has done a great service by detailing the ways Russell bore this weight, and the ways in which he fought to throw it off. Aram makes clear that Russell was a conflicted soul. He lacked self-confidence, but he was brusk and even arrogant. He was friendly and gregarious to some, but often simply rude to others. He was hot tempered, but he affected a cool, distant demeanor. He believed he was a man of principle (and convinced others he was), but he periodically abandoned his family for a playboy lifestyle. If Russell couldn't be honest about himself, he insisted on being honest about everything and everyone around him. He meant what he said and said what he meant–about race, about sports, about anything that bothered him. He was a sort of athletic Socrates, always questioning and never fully accepting the way things were. And, like Socrates, Russell was willing to suffer for his beliefs. As Aram points out, he did in many ways. But in the process he gained the respect of almost everyone he encountered. He was a hard man to like, but he was an easy man to admire. I should add that if you like white-hot game narratives, this book is full of them. Remember this?: “Greer is putting the ball in play. He gets it out deep and Havlicek steals it! Over to Sam Jones… Havlicek stole the ball! It's all over… It's all-l-l-l over!” Johnny Most, RIP. Please become a fan of “New Books in History” on Facebook if you haven't already. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/african-american-studies

I imagine the guys who first faced Bill Russell felt like I did when I had to guard Antoine Carr in high school. I “held” Carr to 32 points. But no dunks! Russell’s opponents in college and the NBA rarely fared any better. Sports talk is full of hyperbole, but in Russell’s case most of it is true. In his time, he was far and away the best player to ever step on the court and, for most of his career, he completely owned every court he stepped on. He was so dominant that they changed the rules so less gifted players would have a chance. Bill Russell, however, was not only a surpassingly great basketball player, he was also an African American star in an era in which being an African American star (or just being an African American) was very complicated. Today we are used to seeing outstandingly successful blacks in all (or almost all) spheres of life. In the mid-1950s that just wasn’t true. The American ruling elite was lily white, and that’s the way most white Americans thought it should be. Bill Russell (and Jackie Robinson, Althea Gibson, Willie Mays, Cassius Clay, Jim Brown, among others) were anomalies: they were black, but they were both extraordinarily accomplished and remarkably famous. They couldn’t just be athletes; they had to be symbols of some promising (or frightening) new world as well. That’s quite a burden to bear. In King of the Court: Bill Russell and the Basketball Revolution (University of California Press, 2010), Aram Goudsouzian has done a great service by detailing the ways Russell bore this weight, and the ways in which he fought to throw it off. Aram makes clear that Russell was a conflicted soul. He lacked self-confidence, but he was brusk and even arrogant. He was friendly and gregarious to some, but often simply rude to others. He was hot tempered, but he affected a cool, distant demeanor. He believed he was a man of principle (and convinced others he was), but he periodically abandoned his family for a playboy lifestyle. If Russell couldn’t be honest about himself, he insisted on being honest about everything and everyone around him. He meant what he said and said what he meant–about race, about sports, about anything that bothered him. He was a sort of athletic Socrates, always questioning and never fully accepting the way things were. And, like Socrates, Russell was willing to suffer for his beliefs. As Aram points out, he did in many ways. But in the process he gained the respect of almost everyone he encountered. He was a hard man to like, but he was an easy man to admire. I should add that if you like white-hot game narratives, this book is full of them. Remember this?: “Greer is putting the ball in play. He gets it out deep and Havlicek steals it! Over to Sam Jones… Havlicek stole the ball! It’s all over… It’s all-l-l-l over!” Johnny Most, RIP. Please become a fan of “New Books in History” on Facebook if you haven’t already. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

I imagine the guys who first faced Bill Russell felt like I did when I had to guard Antoine Carr in high school. I “held” Carr to 32 points. But no dunks! Russell’s opponents in college and the NBA rarely fared any better. Sports talk is full of hyperbole, but in Russell’s case most of it is true. In his time, he was far and away the best player to ever step on the court and, for most of his career, he completely owned every court he stepped on. He was so dominant that they changed the rules so less gifted players would have a chance. Bill Russell, however, was not only a surpassingly great basketball player, he was also an African American star in an era in which being an African American star (or just being an African American) was very complicated. Today we are used to seeing outstandingly successful blacks in all (or almost all) spheres of life. In the mid-1950s that just wasn’t true. The American ruling elite was lily white, and that’s the way most white Americans thought it should be. Bill Russell (and Jackie Robinson, Althea Gibson, Willie Mays, Cassius Clay, Jim Brown, among others) were anomalies: they were black, but they were both extraordinarily accomplished and remarkably famous. They couldn’t just be athletes; they had to be symbols of some promising (or frightening) new world as well. That’s quite a burden to bear. In King of the Court: Bill Russell and the Basketball Revolution (University of California Press, 2010), Aram Goudsouzian has done a great service by detailing the ways Russell bore this weight, and the ways in which he fought to throw it off. Aram makes clear that Russell was a conflicted soul. He lacked self-confidence, but he was brusk and even arrogant. He was friendly and gregarious to some, but often simply rude to others. He was hot tempered, but he affected a cool, distant demeanor. He believed he was a man of principle (and convinced others he was), but he periodically abandoned his family for a playboy lifestyle. If Russell couldn’t be honest about himself, he insisted on being honest about everything and everyone around him. He meant what he said and said what he meant–about race, about sports, about anything that bothered him. He was a sort of athletic Socrates, always questioning and never fully accepting the way things were. And, like Socrates, Russell was willing to suffer for his beliefs. As Aram points out, he did in many ways. But in the process he gained the respect of almost everyone he encountered. He was a hard man to like, but he was an easy man to admire. I should add that if you like white-hot game narratives, this book is full of them. Remember this?: “Greer is putting the ball in play. He gets it out deep and Havlicek steals it! Over to Sam Jones… Havlicek stole the ball! It’s all over… It’s all-l-l-l over!” Johnny Most, RIP. Please become a fan of “New Books in History” on Facebook if you haven’t already. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

I imagine the guys who first faced Bill Russell felt like I did when I had to guard Antoine Carr in high school. I “held” Carr to 32 points. But no dunks! Russell’s opponents in college and the NBA rarely fared any better. Sports talk is full of hyperbole, but in Russell’s case most of it is true. In his time, he was far and away the best player to ever step on the court and, for most of his career, he completely owned every court he stepped on. He was so dominant that they changed the rules so less gifted players would have a chance. Bill Russell, however, was not only a surpassingly great basketball player, he was also an African American star in an era in which being an African American star (or just being an African American) was very complicated. Today we are used to seeing outstandingly successful blacks in all (or almost all) spheres of life. In the mid-1950s that just wasn’t true. The American ruling elite was lily white, and that’s the way most white Americans thought it should be. Bill Russell (and Jackie Robinson, Althea Gibson, Willie Mays, Cassius Clay, Jim Brown, among others) were anomalies: they were black, but they were both extraordinarily accomplished and remarkably famous. They couldn’t just be athletes; they had to be symbols of some promising (or frightening) new world as well. That’s quite a burden to bear. In King of the Court: Bill Russell and the Basketball Revolution (University of California Press, 2010), Aram Goudsouzian has done a great service by detailing the ways Russell bore this weight, and the ways in which he fought to throw it off. Aram makes clear that Russell was a conflicted soul. He lacked self-confidence, but he was brusk and even arrogant. He was friendly and gregarious to some, but often simply rude to others. He was hot tempered, but he affected a cool, distant demeanor. He believed he was a man of principle (and convinced others he was), but he periodically abandoned his family for a playboy lifestyle. If Russell couldn’t be honest about himself, he insisted on being honest about everything and everyone around him. He meant what he said and said what he meant–about race, about sports, about anything that bothered him. He was a sort of athletic Socrates, always questioning and never fully accepting the way things were. And, like Socrates, Russell was willing to suffer for his beliefs. As Aram points out, he did in many ways. But in the process he gained the respect of almost everyone he encountered. He was a hard man to like, but he was an easy man to admire. I should add that if you like white-hot game narratives, this book is full of them. Remember this?: “Greer is putting the ball in play. He gets it out deep and Havlicek steals it! Over to Sam Jones… Havlicek stole the ball! It’s all over… It’s all-l-l-l over!” Johnny Most, RIP. Please become a fan of “New Books in History” on Facebook if you haven’t already. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices