Discrimination s Take Home Exam - 3414 Words

Discrimination Law- Take home exam Question 1 Due to medical problems associated with her pregnancy, Astrid needs to take an unpaid two weeks off work. Her manager, Renauld, is refusing to comply as Astrid has already taken all of her prescribed days off. As a result, Astrid is entitled to use the provisions set out in the Sex Discrimination Act . This legislation’s application is limited to its Constitutional heads of powers . It can be used by Astrid to get the flexibility she wants by making an application under it. This legislation provides protection against discrimination based on sex, marital status, pregnancy, family responsibilities and breastfeeding in places such as work, as experienced by Astrid. Firstly, Astrid could†¦show more content†¦Astrid being demoted due to her pregnancy requirements as outlined by her employer directly discriminates her compared to the hypothetical comparator . However, it might be difficult for Astrid to prove causation as a result of the employer giving reason as to his suggestion she become a contractor to receive her flexibility, being not as a result of her pregnancy in itself, but in the firm does not allowing part time work. Despite Astrid’s case not being strong through direct discrimination, she would have a stronger one as per her entitlements using the indirect discrimination test under the SDA s7B. The indirect test does not require Astrid to highlight a comparator, where her claim would be for the greater protection of women who require time off associated with their pregnancy. The first element of the test is whereby the employer has imposed a condition and requirement that is, all those who are employed as full time workers are not permitted to take any unpaid leave for any reason once paid leave has been used, which is constitutes a condition as per s5(2) . The following element to prove indirect discrimination is that the condition or requirement is likely to have the effect of disadvantaging persons such as those who are pregnant, with regard to Astrid. Furthermore, indirect discrimination is proved when the condition, requirement or practice is not reasonable in the circumstances. Astrid being

Pedagogical Strategies for the Teaching of Mathematics in...

PEDAGOGICAL STRATEGIES FOR THE TEACHING OF MATHEMATICS IN NIGERIAN PRIMARY SCHOOLS FOR SCIENTIFIC AND TECHNOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT BY AJILEYE, Adewole Mukaila Department of Mathematics Osun State College of Education, Ilesa E-mail: ajileye4ever@yahoo.com Abstract For a country to be technologically developed there is need for efficient handling of mathematics at levels of education. The perennial low performance of pupils in mathematics has been attributed among other things to inadequate knowledge of subject matter content by teachers and poor instructional techniques. This paper highlighted the basic principles for effective teaching and learning of mathematics in primary school which is a fundamental stage of child education.†¦show more content†¦The teacher may acquire mastery of the contents but lack skills in the appropriate methods. This may affect the students understanding of the subjects. There are many approaches to teaching of mathematics. These include: * Problem solving * Discovery Approach * Expository * Laboratory * Questioning skills * Individualization group work * Demonstration, etc. (Johnson amp; Rising, 1972) All these methods are good but no teaching method could be regarded as superior to the other. In application, combination of these methods will be desirable. It all depends on the content, objectives and the nature of the learners. BASIC PRINCIPLES OF EFFECTIVE TEACHING OF MATHEMATICS 1. Basic stages of teaching and learning Fakuade (1981) identifed three significant stages of learning topics in mathematics. These are: * Concrete materials and demonstration of real life situation stage * Semi-concrete or pictorial studies stage * Abstraction stage Pupils in the primary schools have the age ranges between 5 and 12. This is the age period that coincides approximately with the Piaget’s concrete operational stage. This is a transitional stage between the pre-operational period (a period when the child cannot yet perform any serious operation, a period of intuition when the child’s reasoning is not yet quite logical) and the formal operational stage (a period when the child thought processShow MoreRelatedThe Effect of Student Attitudes and Beliefs on Mathematics Education29432 Words   |  118 PagesIMPACT OF SMASSE INSET ON STUDENTS ATTITUDE AND PERFORMANCE IN MATHEMATICS IN SECONDARY SCHOOLS IN KOSOFE DISTRICT BY BERNARD - SAMUEL - CLEMENT MATRIC NO: PT/10/22738 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE NIGERIA CERTIFICATE OF EDUCATION (N.C.E) DEPARTMENT OF COMPUTER/MATHEMATICS IN ADENIRAN OGUNSANYA COLLEGE OF EDUCATION IJANIKI, OGUDU CAMPUS JUNE 2013 DEDICATION To my God the beginner and the author of my life who made it possibleRead MoreDeveloping Management Skills404131 Words   |  1617 Pagesmymanagementlab is an online assessment and preparation solution for courses in Principles of Management, Human Resources, Strategy, and Organizational Behavior that helps you actively study and prepare material for class. Chapter-by-chapter activities, including built-in pretests and posttests, focus on what you need to learn and to review in order to succeed. Visit www.mymanagementlab.com to learn more. DEVELOPING MANAGEMENT SKILLS EIGHTH EDITION David A. Whetten BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY

Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six Free Essays

I’m too stunned to do anything to stop him, really. Well, okay, as the initial shock of it is wearing off, I find I don’t want to stop him. I’m stunned to realize that†¦ well, I like how it feels, being in Adam’s arms. We will write a custom essay sample on Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six or any similar topic only for you Order Now It feels good. It feels safe. It feels warm. It feels†¦ well, almost as if I were a normal girl, for a change. Not the new girl. Not the exterminator’s daughter. Just†¦ me. Mary. It’s a feeling I could get used to. â€Å"Mary,† Adam says. He’s so much taller than me that his breath tickles the tendrils that have fallen from the updo that I’ve twisted my hair into. I don’t mind, though, because his breath smells good. I look up at him dreamily. I can’t believe I never noticed-really noticed-how handsome he is before now. Well, last night, actually. Or maybe I noticed, but it never really registered, because what would a guy like him ever see in a girl like me? In a million years, I never thought I’d end up at the prom with Adam Blum†¦ And okay, sure, he only asked me because he obviously feels sorry for me, on account of my mother being a vampire and all. But still. â€Å"Hmmm?† I say, smiling up at him. â€Å"Uh.† Adam seems uncomfortable, for some reason. â€Å"I was wondering if-you know, when this is all over, and you’ve dusted Drake, and Lila and Ted are back together-you’d want to, um†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Oh God. What’s happening? Is he†¦ is he about to ask me out?. Like on a real date? One that doesn’t include sharp, pointy objects? No. This isn’t happening. This is a dream or something. In a minute, I’m going to wake up, and it’s all going to go away. Because how could such a thing even be possible? I can’t breathe, I’m so sure I’ll break whatever spell we’re both under if I do†¦ â€Å"Yes, Adam?† I ask. â€Å"Well.† He can’t seem to make eye contact anymore. â€Å"Just if you’d want to, you know, maybe hang out-â€Å" â€Å"Excuse me.† The deep voice that interrupts Adam then is all too familiar. â€Å"But may I have this dance?† I close my eyes in frustration. I cannot believe this. I am never going to get a guy I actually like to ask me out at this rate. Never. Never. Never. I am going to stay a freak-the product of similar freaks-for the rest of my life. Why would a guy like Adam Blum ever want to go out with me in the first place? The child of a vampire and a mad scientist? Let’s face it. Not going to happen. And I’ve had it. I’ve had it up to here. â€Å"Listen, you,† I say, whirling around to face Sebastian Drake, whose blue eyes widen a little at the fire in mine. â€Å"How dare you come oozing around†¦Ã¢â‚¬  But then my voice trails off. Because suddenly all I can see are those eyes†¦ †¦ those hypnotically blue eyes, which suddenly make me feel like I could dive into them, letting their warmth wash over me in sweet, soft waves†¦ It’s true he’s no Adam Blum. But he’s looking at me in a way that makes it clear he knows that, and that he’s sorry for it, and that he’s going to do everything he can to make it up to me†¦ more than make it up to me, even†¦ And the next thing I know, Sebastian Drake is taking me into his arms-gently, so gently-and leading me from the dance floor toward a set of French doors through which I can see a night-darkened garden, bathed in twinkling fairy lights and moonlight†¦ just the kind of place to which you’d expect to be led by the golden-haired descendant of a Transylvanian count. â€Å"I’m so glad we finally have the chance to meet,† Sebastian is saying to me in a voice that seems to caress me like a feather-soft touch. Everyone and everything we’ve left behind us-the other couples; Adam; a stunned Lila, staring after us jealously; Ted, staring jealously at her; even the streamers and rosettes-seems to melt away as if all that exists in the world is me, the garden that I find myself in, and Sebastian Drake. Who is reaching up to smooth some loose tendrils away from my face. In a dim, inner recess of my mind, I remember that I’m supposed to be afraid of him†¦ to hate him, even. Only I can’t think why. How could I possibly hate someone as handsome and sweet and gentle as he is? He wants to make me feel better. He wants to help me. â€Å"You see?† Sebastian Drake is saying, as he lifts one of my hands and presses it, softly, against his lips. â€Å"I’m not so terrifying, am I? I’m just like you, actually. Just the child of-let’s face it-a very formidable person, who’s trying to figure out his own place in the world. We have our burdens, do we not, you and I, Mary? Your mother says hello, by the way.† â€Å"M-my mother?† My brain seems to be as filled with fog as this garden we’re standing in. Because while I can picture my mother’s face, I can’t remember how Sebastian Drake could possibly know her. â€Å"Yes,† Sebastian says, his lips now moving from my hand and up toward the crook of my elbow. His mouth feels like liquid fire against my skin. â€Å"She misses you, you know. She doesn’t understand why you won’t join her. She’s so happy now†¦ she doesn’t know the pain of illness†¦ or the indignity of aging†¦ or the heartbreak of loneliness.† His lips are on my bare shoulder now. I’m having trouble breathing. But in a good way. â€Å"She is surrounded by beauty and love†¦ just like you could be, Mary.† His lips are by my throat. His breath, so warm, has seemed to cause my spine to go limp. But it’s all right, because one of his strong arms has gone around my waist, and he’s holding me up, even as my body, as if of its own volition, is arching backward, allowing him an unobstructed view of my bare throat. â€Å"Mary,† he whispers against my neck. And I feel so peaceful, so serene-something I haven’t felt in years, not since Mom left-that my eyelids drift closed†¦ And the next thing I know, something cold and wet hits me in the neck. â€Å"Ow,† I say, opening my eyes and slapping a hand there†¦ then pulling it away to find my fingers slick with some kind of clear moisture. â€Å"Sorry,† Adam calls from where he’s standing a few feet away, his arms stretched out in front of him, the mouth of his Beretta 9mm water pistol aimed right at me. â€Å"I missed.† A second later, I am gasping for air as a thick cloud of acrid, burning smoke hits me in the face. Coughing, I stagger away from the man who, just seconds before, had been holding me so tenderly, but is now clutching at his smoldering chest. â€Å"Wha-† Sebastian Drake gasps, pounding at the flames leaping from his chest. â€Å"What is this?† â€Å"Just a little holy water, dude,† Adam says, as he continues pumping away at Drake’s chest. â€Å"Shouldn’t bother you. Unless, of course, you’re a member of the undead. Which, unfortunately for you, it appears you are.† And a second later, I’ve come back to my senses and am reaching beneath my skirt for my stake. â€Å"Sebastian Drake,† I hiss, as he sinks to his knees before me, howling in pain. And rage. â€Å"This is for my mother.† And I plunge the hand-carved piece of ash deep into the place where his heart would have been. If he’d had one. â€Å"Ted,† Lila says, in a syrupy voice, as her boyfriend lies across the contoured plastic bench with his head in her lap. â€Å"Yes?† Ted asks, looking up at her adoringly. â€Å"No,† Lila says. â€Å"That’s what I’m getting for my tattoo next time I’m in Cancn. Across the small of my back. The word Ted. So from now on, everyone will know I belong to you.† â€Å"Oh, honey,† Ted says. And pulls her head down so he can stick his tongue in her mouth. â€Å"Oh my God,† I say, looking away. â€Å"I know.† Adam’s returned from throwing a glow-in-the-dark twelve-pound bowling ball down the disco-lit lane. â€Å"I almost liked her better when she was under Drake’s spell. But I guess it works out better this way. Ted’ll hurt a lot less than Sebastian. That was a strike, by the way. In case you missed it.† He slides onto the bench beside me and looks down at the scoring sheet in the glow of the lamp just above my head. â€Å"Well, what do you know? I’m winning.† â€Å"Don’t get cocky,† I say. Although I have to admit, he has a lot to brag about. Not just winning at Night Strike bowling, either. â€Å"Just tell me,† I say as he reaches up and finally pulls off his bow tie. Even in the weird disco lights of Bowlmor Lanes-the bowling alley where we’d retreated for our post-prom activities, a mere nine-dollar cab ride from the Waldorf-Adam still looks obscenely handsome. â€Å"Where’d you get the holy water?† â€Å"You gave a bunch of it to Ted,† Adam says, looking down at me in some surprise. â€Å"Remember?† â€Å"But how’d you get the idea to put it in the water gun?† I demand. I’m still reeling from the evening’s earlier activities. Midnight bowling is fun and all. But nothing can really compare with slaying a two-hundred-year-old vampire at the prom. Too bad he’d fizzled into ash out in the garden, where no one but Adam and I could see it. We’d have been voted prom king and queen for sure, instead of Lila and Ted, who are both still wearing their crowns†¦ although they’ve tilted a little rakishly, due to all the kissing. â€Å"I don’t know, Mare,† Adam says, filling in his own score. â€Å"It just seemed like a good idea at the time.† Mare. No one has ever called me Mare before. â€Å"But how did you know?† I ask. â€Å"I mean, that Drake had-well, whatever? I mean, how could you tell that I wasn’t faking it? To lull him into a false sense of security?† â€Å"You mean besides the fact that he was about to bite you on the neck?† Adam raises a single dark brow. â€Å"And that you weren’t doing a damned thing to stop him? Yeah, I had a pretty good idea of what was going on.† â€Å"I’d have snapped out of it,† I assure him, with a confidence I most definitely do not feel, â€Å"as soon as I felt his teeth.† â€Å"No,† Adam says. Now he’s grinning down at me, his face illuminated by the light from the scoring desk’s single lamp. The rest of the bowling alley is in darkness, except for the balls and pins, which glow with an eerie fluorescence. â€Å"You wouldn’t have. Admit it, Mary. You needed me back there.† His face is so close to mine-closer than Sebastian Drake’s ever got. Only instead of feeling as if I could dive into his gaze, I feel as if I’m about to melt under it. My heartbeat staggers. â€Å"Yeah,† I say, unable to keep my gaze from drifting toward his lips. â€Å"I guess I kinda did.† â€Å"We make a good team,† Adam says. His own gaze, I can’t help noticing, isn’t straying far from my mouth, either. â€Å"Wouldn’t you say? I mean, especially in light of the coming apocalyptic event? When Drake’s dad finds out what we did tonight?† I can’t help gasping a little at that. â€Å"That’s right,† I cry. â€Å"Oh, Adam! He’s not just going to come after me. He’s going to come after you, too!† â€Å"You know,† Adam says. And now his gaze has drifted from my mouth, and downward. â€Å"I really do like that dress. It goes great with bowling shoes.† â€Å"Adam,† I say. â€Å"This is serious! Dracula could be getting ready to descend upon Manhattan at any moment, and we’re wasting time bowling! We’ve got to start getting ready! We need to prepare a counterattack. We need to-â€Å" â€Å"Mary,† Adam says. â€Å"Dracula can wait.† â€Å"But-â€Å" â€Å"Mary,† Adam says. â€Å"Shut up.† And I do. Because I’m too busy kissing him back to do anything else. Besides, he’s right. Dracula can wait. How to cite Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six, Essay examples Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six Free Essays â€Å"Sheba,† she said, her dark eyes widening. â€Å"Sheba†¦ Smith.† â€Å"Well, would you like to dance then, Sheba Smith? If you feel well enough. We will write a custom essay sample on Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six or any similar topic only for you Order Now † â€Å"Yes,† she breathed, half to herself. â€Å"Yes, why not?† Her eyes never left his. Not moving from where they were, Gabe and Sheba began swaying to the rhythm of yet another wretched song. This time, the horrid music didn’t offend Gabe as much. Gabe put it together then. New girl. Amazing dress. Sheba. This was Logan’s date, the one who’d asked him to the prom and then wanted nothing more to do with him. For a half second, Gabe worried if it was wrong for him to infringe on his friend’s date. But the worry passed quickly. For one thing, Logan was happy with Libby. There was no sense in interrupting something that was clearly meant to be. For another, Sheba and Logan were clearly not meant to be. Gabe had always had a good instinct for that-for the personalities that belonged together, for compatible natures that would pull together harmoniously. He’d been the butt of many jokes about matchmaking, but he didn’t mind. Gabe liked people to be happy. And this intense girl with the deep pools in her eyes-Sheba-did not belong with Logan. That desperate sense of need had calmed when he’d touched her. Gabe felt much better with her in his arms-holding her seemed to soothe the strange call. She was safe here, no longer drowning, no longer lost. Gabe was afraid to let her go, worried that the burning need would return. It was an odd first for Gabe, this feeling of being in exactly the right place, of being the only one that belonged here. It wasn’t that he’d never had a girlfriend before-girls liked Gabe, and he’d had many casual relationships. But they never lasted. There was always someone else they belonged with. None of them really needed Gabe, except as a friend. And they’d always stayed good friends. It had never been like this. Was this where Gabe belonged? Shielding this slender girl, holding her safe in his arms? It was silly to think so fatalistically. Gabe tried hard to act normal. â€Å"You’re new at Reed River, aren’t you?† he asked her. â€Å"I’ve only been here a few weeks,† she confirmed. â€Å"I don’t think we have any classes together.† â€Å"No, I would have remembered if I’d been close to you before.† It was an odd way of phrasing it. She stared into his eyes, her hands clinging gently to his shoulders. Instinctively, he pulled her a little closer. â€Å"Are you having a good time tonight?† he asked. She sighed, a deep sigh from the center of her being. â€Å"I am now,† she said, oddly rueful. â€Å"A very good time.† Trapped! Like an idiot, like a new-spawned whelp, a novice, a rookie! Sheba leaned into Gabe, unable to resist. Unable to want to resist. She stared into his heavenly eyes and had the most ridiculous urge to sigh. How had she not seen the signs? The way goodness itself surrounded him like a shield. The way her suggestions bounced right off him harmlessly. The way the only ones safe from her evil tonight-those little bubbles of happiness outside of her control-were the people he’d touched and interacted with, his friends. The eyes alone should have been warning enough! Celeste was smarter than Sheba. At least her instincts had kept her away from this dangerous boy. Once she was free of his piercing gaze, she’d kept a safe distance between them. Why hadn’t Sheba understood the reason behind this? And the reason Gabe had chosen Celeste in the first place. Of course he’d been drawn to Celeste! It all made sense now. Sheba swayed to the beat that rumbled through the air, feeling the security of his body around her, protecting her. Tiny, unfamiliar tendrils of happiness twisted their way through her empty core. No-not that! Not happiness! If she was already feeling happy, then better things couldn’t be too far behind. Was there no way to avoid the horrible wonder of love? That wasn’t very likely when you were in an angel’s arms. Not a true angel. Gabe didn’t have wings, he’d never had them-he wasn’t one of those sappy birdbrains who’d traded feathers and eternity for human love. But one of his parents had done just that. Gabe was fully half-angel-though he didn’t have a clue about his nature. If he’d had any idea, Sheba would have heard that in his mind and escaped this divine horror. Now it was only too obvious to Sheba-this close, she could smell the scent of asphodel clinging to his skin. And, clearly, he’d inherited his angel-parent’s eyes. The heaven-blue eyes that should have been a dead giveaway, if Sheba hadn’t been so wrapped up in her evil plotting. There was a reason even experienced demons like Jezebel were wary of angels. If it was hazardous for a human to stare into a demon’s eyes, it was doubly so for a demon to get locked into an angel’s. If ever a demon met an angel’s gaze for too long, pfffffft! – out went the fires of hell and the demon was trapped until the angel gave up on saving him. Because that’s what angels did. They saved. Sheba was an eternal being, and she was trapped for however long Gabe decided to keep her. A full angel would have known what Sheba was at once, and driven her out if he were strong enough, or given her a wide berth if he wasn’t. But Sheba could imagine what her presence would feel like to someone with Gabe’s instinct to save. Innocent of the knowledge he needed to understand, Sheba’s damned state must have been like a siren’s call. She stared helplessly into Gabe’s beautiful face, her body filling with happiness, and wondered how long the torture would last. Already too long to save her perfect prom. Without her hellfire, Sheba had no influence over the mortals here. But she was still fully aware, watching helpless and disgustingly blissful, as it all fell apart. Cooper Silverdale gasped in horror as he looked at the gun glistening in his shaking hand. What was he thinking? He shoved the weapon back into its hiding place and half ran to the bathroom, where he violently vomited the punch into the sink. Cooper’s stomach problems interrupted Matt and Derek’s fistfight, which was just warming up in the men’s room. The two friends squinted through their swollen eyes at each other. Why were they fighting? Over a girl that neither of them even liked? How stupid! Suddenly, they were interrupting each other in their urgent need to apologize. With smiles on split lips and arms around shoulders, they headed back to the ballroom. David Alvarado had given up his plans to jump Heath after the dance, because Evie had forgiven him for disappearing with Celeste. Her cheek was soft and warm against his now as they swayed to the slow music, and there was no way he would hurt her by disappearing again, not for any reason. David was not the only one who felt that way. As if the new song was magical rather than insipid, the dancers in the big ballroom each moved instinctively toward the person they should have come with in the first place, the one that would transform the night’s misery into happiness. Coach Lauder, lonely and depressed, looked up from the unappetizing cookies straight into Vice Principal Finkle’s sad eyes. She looked lonely, too. The coach walked toward her, smiling hesitantly. Shaking her head and blinking her eyes like someone trying to escape a nightmare, Melissa Harris pulled away from Tyson and ran for the exit. She would find the concierge and get a cab†¦ Like a rubber band that had been stretched too far, the atmosphere at Reed River’s prom now snapped back with a vengeance. If Sheba had been herself, she would have pulled that rubber band until it exploded into pieces. But now all the misery and wrath and hate vanished. The human minds had been stuck in their grip too long. With relief, everyone at the prom relaxed into happiness, grasped at love with two hands. Even Celeste was tired of the mayhem. She stayed in Rob’s arms, shuddering slightly at the memory of those perfect blue eyes, as one slow song melted into the next. Neither Sheba nor Gabe even noticed the song change. All her delicious pain and misery destroyed! Even if she did get free, Sheba was destined for middle school now. Where was the injustice?! And Jezebel! Had she planned this? Tried to distract Sheba from the fact that a dangerous half-angel was here tonight? Or would she be disappointed? Was she really there in encouragement? Sheba had no way to find out. She wouldn’t even be able to see Jezebel now-whether the horned demoness was laughing or chagrined-with her fires extinguished. Disgusted with herself, Sheba sighed in happiness. Gabe was just so good. And, in his arms, she felt good, too. She felt wonderful. Sheba simply had to get free before happiness and love ruined her! Would she be trapped with some feather-back’s heavenly offspring forever? Gabe smiled at her, and she sighed again. Sheba knew what Gabe would be feeling now. Angels were never happier than when they were making someone else happy, and the bigger the lift in that other person’s spirit, the more ecstatic the angel. As perfectly miserable and damned as Sheba had been, Gabe must be flying now-it would be almost as good as having wings. He would never want to let her go. There was just one chance left for Sheba, just one way back to her wretched, miserable, burning, stinking home. Gabe had to order her there. Thinking of this chance, Sheba felt much worse, felt a welcome wave of her former misery. Gabe tightened his hold on her as he sensed her slipping down, and the misery was drowned in contentment, but Sheba remained hopeful. She stared up into his love-filled angel-eyes and smiled dreamily. You’re evil incarnate, Sheba told herself. You have a true talent for misery. You know suffering inside and out. You can get yourself out of this trap and everything will be like it used to be. After all, with as much pain and havoc as Sheba was capable of causing, how hard could it possibly be to get this angelic boy to tell her to go to hell? How to cite Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six, Essay examples Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six Free Essays â€Å"Put them up,† Glasses Geek said. â€Å"I mean your arms. Miranda did what he said because his hands were shaking so much she was afraid he’d shoot her by accident. We will write a custom essay sample on Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six or any similar topic only for you Order Now â€Å"Who are you? What are you doing here?† he demanded in a voice that shook almost as much as his hands. â€Å"I just wanted to get a glimpse of Her,† she said, hoping she made it sound right. He narrowed his eyes. â€Å"How did you know She was here?† â€Å"The Gardener told me, but I didn’t know where She was being kept so I climbed up that tree to look.† â€Å"Which affiliate are you with?† I knew this would end in tears. What now, smarty pants? Miranda raised an eyebrow and said, â€Å"Which affiliate are you with?† Adding for good measure, â€Å"I mean, I would remember a guy like you if I’d seen you before.† It worked! She saw him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. She would never doubt How to Get-And Kiss-Your Guy again! He said, â€Å"I’d remember you, too.† She hit him with a dose of Winsome Smile and saw the Adam’s apple do some more moving. She said, â€Å"If I give you my hand to shake, will you shoot me?† He chortled and put down the gun. â€Å"No,† still chortling. Holding out his hand now. â€Å"I’m Craig.† â€Å"Hi, Craig, I’m Miranda,† she said, taking it. Then flipped him onto his back and knocked him out cold in a single silent move. She looked at her hand for a second in shock. She’d definitely never done that before. That had been very cool. If you’re going to be an idiot and risk everything, you might as well do what you came for. You know, instead of just staring at the guy you knocked out? She bent to whisper, â€Å"Sorry. Take three aspirin for your head when you wake up and you’ll feel better,† in his ear, and moved around the edge of the safe house. There must have been an open window because she could hear voices here, the man who had been outside before now saying to someone, â€Å"Are you comfortable?† And Sibby answering, â€Å"No. I don’t like this couch. I can’t believe this is the nicest room in the house. It looks like a place for a grandma.† Heh! Miranda followed the sound of Sibby’s voice and found herself standing in front of one of the street-facing plate-glass windows, looking through a gap in dark blue drapes into a living room. There was a spindly-looking couch, chair, and coffee table. Sibby was in the chair, her profile to Miranda, with a plate of Oreos in front of her. She looked fine. The man was perched on the couch, smiling at Sibby, saying, â€Å"So, where are we supposed to drop you?† Sibby took the top cookie off the Oreo and ate it. â€Å"I’ll tell you later.† The man kept smiling. â€Å"I’d like to know so I can plan the route. We can’t be too careful.† â€Å"Oh my gods, there’s like hours before we go. I want to watch some TV.† Miranda heard the man’s heart speed up and saw his hand flex but he kept his tone light when he said, â€Å"Of course.† Then added, â€Å"As soon as you tell me where we’re taking you.† Sibby frowned at him. â€Å"Are you deaf or something? I said I’d tell you later.† â€Å"It’s in your best interest to talk to me. Otherwise I’m afraid I’ll have to bring in someone else. Someone a bit more†¦ forceful.† â€Å"Fine. But while I’m waiting, can I please watch TV? Tell me you get cable. Oh gods, if you don’t have MTV, I’m going to be really pissed.† The man stood up with an expression on his face like he wanted to break something, then abruptly turned to face the door. Miranda heard footsteps coming toward the room from the hallway, and with them a familiar cha-cha heartbeat. Two seconds later Deputy Sergeant Caleb Reynolds burst through the door. See? Sibby’s in no danger. The police are here. Scram. Deputy Reynolds said to the man, â€Å"What’s taking so long?† â€Å"She won’t talk.† â€Å"I’m sure she’ll change her mind.† His heartbeat picked up. Sibby glanced at him. â€Å"Who are you?† Caleb said, â€Å"I’m the Gardener.† This was extremely not good, Miranda decided. â€Å"I wasn’t very impressed with the front lawn,† Sibby told him. â€Å"I’m not that kind of Gardener. It’s a nickname. They call me that because-â€Å" â€Å"Actually, I’m not even vaguely interested. I don’t know what you’re planning, Plant Boy-â€Å" â€Å"Gardener,† he corrected, going a touch red. † – but if you need to know where I’m supposed to be picked up by the Overseer, then you have to keep me alive, right? So you can’t exactly threaten me with death.† â€Å"Not death, no. But pain.† He addressed the man. â€Å"Go get me my tools, Byron.† As the man left the room, Sibby said, â€Å"I’m not going to tell you anything.† Deputy Reynolds circled around so he was leaning over her chair, his back to the window. â€Å"Listen to me-† he said, his heartbeat slowing down suddenly. Miranda did a round-off, smashing through the window feet first, then knocked him unconscious with a side kick to the neck before he could turn around. She bent to whisper, â€Å"Sorry,† in his ear, decided as punishment not to tell him about the aspirins, grabbed Sibby, sprinted to the car, and stepped on the gas. How to cite Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six, Essay examples Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six Free Essays Yun Sun’s voice grew sharp. â€Å"Frankie, no!† â€Å"I’m such an idiot-why didn’t I think of it before?† â€Å"Wait. Don’t do it, don’t make the-† She broke off. We will write a custom essay sample on Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six or any similar topic only for you Order Now I heard a â€Å"whoops,† followed by drunken apologies and someone saying, â€Å"Oh, I love your dress!† It sounded like everyone was having fun. I’d soon be having fun with them. I made it to the den and approached the bookshelf where I’d left the corsage. I patted the tops of the books and then the space behind them. My fingers found softness, like petals of skin. â€Å"I’m back,† Yun Sun said. The background sounds had diminished, suggesting she’d stepped outside. â€Å"And, Frankie, I know you’re hurting. I know that. But what happened to Will was just a coincidence. A terrible, terrible coincidence.† â€Å"Call it what you want,† I said. â€Å"I’m making my second wish.† I plucked the corsage from behind the books. Yun Sun’s anxiety intensified. â€Å"Frankie, no, you can’t!† â€Å"Why not?† â€Å"He fell from three hundred feet! His body was†¦ they said he was mangled beyond†¦ that’s why they had a closed casket, remember?† â€Å"So?† â€Å"He’s been rotting in a coffin for thirteen days!† she cried. â€Å"Yun Sun, that is a tasteless thing to say. Honestly, if it were Jeremy being brought back to life, would we even be having this conversation?† I drew the flowers to my face, lightly touching the petals with my lips. â€Å"Listen, I’ve got to go. But save some punch for me! And Will! Ooo, make that lots of punch for Will-I bet he’ll be absolutely crazed with thirst!† I flipped my phone shut. I held the corsage aloft. â€Å"I wish for Will to be alive again!† I cried exultantly. The stench of decay thickened the air. The corsage curled, as if the petals were shrinking in on themselves. I flung it away on autopilot, just as I’d shake off an earwig that chanced to light on my hand. But whatever. The corsage wasn’t important. What was important was Will. Where was he? I glanced around, ridiculously expecting him to be sitting on the sofa, looking at me like You’re scared of a bunch of dried flowers? Pitiful! The sofa was empty, a gloomy, looming shape by the wall. I darted to the window and peered out. Nothing. Just the wind, fluttering the leaves on the trees. â€Å"Will?† I said. Again nothing. A tremendous well of disappointment opened inside me, and I sank into my father’s leather armchair. Stupid Frankie. Stupid, foolish, pathetic me. Time passed. Cicadas chirped. Stupid cicadas. And then, so faint, a thud. And then another. I straightened my spine. Gravel popped on the road†¦ or maybe the driveway? The thuds came closer. They were labored and with the odd offbeat of a limp, or of something being dragged. I strained to hear. There-a thump, ten feet away on the porch. A thump that was distinctly inhuman. My throat closed as Yun Sun’s words wormed back to me. Mangled, she’d said. Rotting. I wasn’t paying attention before. Now it was too late. What had I done? I jumped out of the chair and fled to the entry hall, safe from the eyes of anyone-or anything-who might choose to peer through the den’s wide windows. What, exactly, had I brought back to life? A knock echoed through the house. I whimpered, then clapped my hand over my mouth. â€Å"Frankie?† a voice called. â€Å"I’m, uh†¦ yikes. I’m kind of a mess.† He laughed his self-deprecating laugh. â€Å"But I’m here. That’s the important thing. I’m here to take you to prom!† â€Å"We don’t have to go to prom,† I said. Was that me sounding so shrill? â€Å"Who needs prom? I mean, seriously!† â€Å"Yeah, sure, this from the girl who would kill for the perfect romantic evening.† The knob rattled. â€Å"Aren’t you going to let me in?† I hyperventilated. There was a series of plops, like overripe strawberries being dropped into the trash, and then, â€Å"Aw, dude. Not good.† â€Å"Will?† I whispered. â€Å"This is so uncool†¦ but do you have any stain remover?† Holy crap. Holy, holy, holy crap. â€Å"You’re not mad, are you?† Will asked. He sounded worried. â€Å"I came as fast as I could. But it was so frickin’ weird, Frankie. Because, like†¦Ã¢â‚¬  My mind flew to airless caskets, deep in the ground. Please, no, I thought. â€Å"Forget it. It was weird-let’s leave it at that.† He tried to lighten things up. â€Å"Now are you going to let me in, or what? I’m falling to pieces out here!† I pressed my body against the hall wall. My knees buckled, I wasn’t doing too well with muscle control, but I reminded myself that I was safe behind the solid front door. Whatever else he was, Will was still flesh and bones. Well, partially. But not yet a ghost who could move through walls. â€Å"Will, you’ve got to go,† I said. â€Å"I made a mistake, okay?† â€Å"A mistake? What do you mean?† His confusion broke my heart. â€Å"It’s just†¦ oh God.† I started crying. â€Å"We’re not right for each other anymore. You understand, don’t you?† â€Å"No, I don’t. You wanted me to ask you to prom, so I asked you to prom. And now for no good reason†¦ ohhh! I get it!† â€Å"You do?† â€Å"You don’t want me to see you! That’s it, isn’t it? You’re nervous about how you look!† â€Å"Um†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Should I run with this? Should I say yes just so he would leave? â€Å"Frankie. Dude. You have nothing to worry about.† He laughed. â€Å"One, you’re beautiful; and two, compared to me, there’s no way you won’t look like†¦ I don’t know, an angel from heaven.† He sounded relieved, as if he’d had a niggling sense of something being off, but couldn’t quite place his finger on it. But now he knew: It was Frankie having self-esteem issues, that’s all! Silly Frankie! I heard a shuffling, and then the bump of a small wooden lid. My body tensed, because I knew that bump. The milk box-crap. He’d remembered the key in the milk box. â€Å"I’m letting myself in,† he called, slump-thumping back to the front door.† ‘Kay, Franks? ‘Cause all of a sudden I’m, like, dying to see you!† He laughed, jubilant. â€Å"I mean, wait, that came out wrong†¦ but, heck, guess that’s the theme of the night. Everything’s coming out wrong-and I do mean everything!† I fled to the den, where I got on my hands and knees and frantically patted the floor. If only it weren’t so dark! The deadbolt stuck, and Will jangled the key. His breathing was clotted. â€Å"I’m coming, Frankie!† he called. Jangle, jangle. â€Å"I’m coming as fast as I can!† My fear ratcheted so high that I was thrown into an altered state of reality. I was gasping and crying out, I could hear myself, and my hands were blind feelers, pawing and slapping as I crawled. With a thunk, the bolt slid home. â€Å"Yes,† Will crowed. The door swished over the frayed carpet at the exact instant my fingers closed on the crumbling corsage. â€Å"Frankie? Why is it so dark? And why aren’t you-â€Å" I squeezed my eyes shut and spoke my final wish. All sounds ceased, save for the rustle of wind in the leaves. The door, continuing its slow trajectory, bumped against the doorjamb. I stayed where I was on the floor. I sobbed, because my heart was breaking. No, my heart was broken. After several moments, the cicadas once again took up their yearning chorus. I rose to my feet, stumbled across the room, and stood, shivering, in the open doorway. Outside, a pale shaft of moonlight shone on the deserted road. How to cite Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Six, Essay examples

Investment Psychology for Dominos Pizza Inc -myassignmenthelp.com

Question: Discuss about theInvestment Psychology for Dominos Pizza Inc. Answer: Introduction: The analysis on such as Dominos Pizza Inc., Google Inc., Delta Air Lines Inc is mainly conducted in the assessment to identify the future prospective and detect the investment viability in this company. The assessment evaluates the financial performance of selected companies, which could eventually help and detecting whether there is a viable investment scope for investors. The pattern recognition, which is conducted by evaluating historical price movements is also helpful in detecting the overall trend of the organizations. Dominos Pizza Inc., Google Inc., Delta Air Lines Inc is selected from the overall portfolio, where adequate research could be conducted to identify the investment opportunities and future performance of the companies. The Domino's Pizza Inc is iteratively under Food processing industry, why Google Inc falls under the information technology industry. Lastly, the Delta airlines company mainly falls under the Airline industry. Delta Air Lines Inc 2015 2016 2017 Quick Ratio 0.32 0.35 0.27 Operating Margin 27.82% 25.36% 22.86% Debt/Equity 0.62 0.5 0.47 Gross Margin 58.00% 59.79% 57.91% Financial performance of delta Airlines can be identified from the above table, which would allow investors to conduct adequate investment decision. The quick ratio, gross margin ratio, and operating margin ratio of the company has declined. However, the debt ratio of the company has relatively decline, which indicated and improvement anus financial capability[1]. Dominos Pizza Inc 2015 2016 2017 Operating Margin 18.290% 18.360% 18.700% Quick Ratio 0.700 0.480 0.530 Gross Margin 30.820% 31.050% 31.060% Interest coverage 4.080 4.130 4.270 The profit margin, interest coverage ratio, gross margin of the company has a relatively improved over a period of 3 years. This mainly indicates the high capability of the organization to generate returns from investment. However, the quick ratio the company declined, which stated in the hi accumulation of current liabilities in comparison to current assets. Google 2015 2016 2017 Quick Ratio 4.5 6 4.98 Operating Margin 25.82% 26.27% 23.59% Debt/Equity 0.02 0.03 0.02 Gross Margin 62.44% 61.08% 58.88% From the valuation, it could be seen that the financial position of Google has improved in 2017, as the quick ratio and debt to equity ratio has a relatively increased over the financial years. However, the client in operating margin and gross margin is seen, which was conducted due to high expenses incurred by the organization doing the financial years[2]. The selection decision was mainly made on both logical and instinctual basis, as the organization selected for the portfolio are the market leaders, which would eventually help in generating high returns. Furthermore, the logical reason for selecting the stock is the pricing performance of the organizations which has been conducted over the past years. In addition, the companies such as Domino's and Google would eventually increase their revenues in long run, which would support the capital growth needed from the portfolio[3]. CompanyName Price Market Cap P / E Ratio SkyWest, Inc. $ 55 2,856,034 7 Delta Air Lines, Inc. $ 53 37,501,735 11 The competitive level of delta airline is evaluated in the above table, where P/E ratio and market cap of the organization is a relatively higher in comparison to its competitor. However, the share price of the organization is relatively low in comparison to its competitors, which indicates a possibility of price increment in future. CompanyName Price Market Cap P / E Ratio Sysco Corporation $ 60 31,169,003 27 Domino's Pizza Inc $ 231 9,968,982 40 The above table reverently represents the competitive edge of Domino's against Sysco Corporation, which would eventually help in detecting financial viability of the company. The overall t ratio and share price of Domino's is relatively higher than its competitor, where is the market cap of Sysco corporation is higher. The market cap of Dominos is relatively lower than Sysco Corporation, which is relatively due to the high prices of the organization. CompanyName Price Market Cap P / E Ratio Facebook, Inc. $ 157.20 376,638,938 29.17 GOOGL Alphabet Inc. $ 1,009.95 301,463,005 56.23 From the overall evaluation, Google is considered to be the most viable investment option, which could help in generating high level of returns from investment. The current price and see ratio of Google is relatively higher in comparison to Facebook, while the market cap of Facebook is higher due to the low prices of the organization. CompanyName Price 52 Weeks High /Low Domino's Pizza Inc 231.46 $236.93/$166.74 Delta Air Lines, Inc. 53.05 $60.79/$43.81 GOOGL Alphabet Inc. 1009.95 $1,198/$834.60 From the overall evaluation, the 52-week high and low share price of the company is relevantly depicted in the above table. In addition, the overall prices of the company are at adequate level, which indicates the possibility of rising share prices for all the three companies. The share price valuation of Domino's Pizza is relatively close to the 52 weeks high value, which indicate that the current trend of the organization is relatively up, which the pics that the share price of the organization will eventually increase in future. Moreover, The Delta price is relatively close to 52 weeks high, which could eventually help in improving the financial position of investors. Likewise, the share price of Google is also at 52 weeks high, which depicts the pricing trend of the organization, where new highs would be achieved in future[4]. Conclusion: From the valuation it could be identified that Domino's pizza and Google is identified to be an adequate investment opportunity, which could increase returns of the investors. The financial ratios and the current trend of the organization is a relatively positive, which could eventually allow investors to generate higher returns from investment. hence, the stocks could be associated with the portfolio for increasing the returns of the investors. However, neglecting the shares of delta airline is mainly a viable option, where the financial performance of the company is not adequate. Reference and Bibliography: Baumann, Michael Heinrich, and Lars Grne. "Simultaneously long short trading in discrete and continuous time."Systems Control Letters99 (2017): 85-89. Chandra, Prasanna.Investment analysis and portfolio management. McGraw-Hill Education, 2017. Kang, Yan-Qing, et al. "Environmental assessment and investment strategy for China's manufacturing industry: A non-radial DEA based analysis."Journal of Cleaner Production175 (2018): 501-511. Mikesell, Raymond F., and John W. Whitney.The world mining industry: Investment strategy and public policy. Routledge, 2017. Nasdaq.com 2018, https://www.nasdaq.com/symbol/dal/competitors?sortname=lastsalesorttype=1. Accessed 9 Apr 2018. Nasdaq.com 2018, https://www.nasdaq.com/symbol/dpz/competitors?sortname=lastsalesorttype=1. Accessed 9 Apr 2018. Nasdaq.com 2018, https://www.nasdaq.com/symbol/goog/competitors?sortname=lastsalesorttype=1. Accessed 9 Apr 2018. Zhang, Xinhua, et al. "Analysis of carbon-abatement investment for thermal power market in carbon-dispatching mode and policy recommendations."Energy149 (2018): 954-966. ucation, 2017.

Issues Of Mannerism Essays - Art History, Mannerism,

Issues Of Mannerism Issues of Mannerism The movement in painting that is now referred to as Mannerism began in Italy around 1520, influenced artists throughout Europe, and lasted until the end of the 16th century. The word Mannerism originates from the Italian word maniera which translates into the English word style. The basis of Mannerism then is style; it's a period of art where the focus was on grace and beauty. While preceding trends of Renaissance art looked to nature to find their style, working to perfect it, Mannerists manipulated nature creating a gross perfection of human form, idealizing forms to the point of abstraction. Definitions of Mannerist art as well as the reasons for its appearance as a movement are still contested today. For a definition of mannerism to have validity, it must offer a valid origination of the movement. Much is revealed when the reasons behind a certain artistic expression are clear. Until the 19th century, Mannerist art was considered by most to be perverse and capricious. It was considered simply an excessive use of a specific manner of which contained qualities that were strange and unjustified. It was thought that extravagance, a need for increased productivity, and a lack of artistic knowledge led to the Mannerist style. In the early part of the 20th century, these generalizations were considered unfair, and many new theories about the origins of Mannerism surfaced. Some theories suggest that artists were displaying a conscious deviance, painting against the rules of classical art, and rebelling against the High Renaissance and the ideal of naturalness. The spiritual unrest of the age is often considered the root of this deviant artistic behavior. John Shearman points out in Mannerism that the wars of the early 16th century created a period of economic and social disturbance creating the growth of Mannerist style. He says most works of art are insulated in the mind of the artist even from his personal crises, joys and tragedies (40). More reasonable, he says, are explanations of Mannerism in terms of sociological and religious influences. There was a new development in patronage during this period where works were commissioned for no other reason than to have a work made by a certain artist. Many times the subject, and/or the medium were to be decided upon by the artist. Rosso Fiorentino's Descent From the Cross has a profoundly disquieting, visionary style that indicates a deep inner anxiety. There is a cold, icy feel to the painting. Spidery forms spread across a dark sky, and the figures are agitated yet rigid. Even the drapery appears hard, the folds look brittle and ready to crack. The light that bathes the figures and the colors of clothing are brilliant but unreal which reinforces the bad dream feel. Beginning with Mannerism, art begins to become more about the artist than the subject or the person who commissioned it. The pain and distress of Fiorentino is apparent in his work. In his book Mannerism and Maniera, Craig Smyth explains the belief that Mannerist style was connected with the desire for experimentation and creating art for art's sake rather than a spiritual crisis of the period. Smyth also believes that what is usually considered the anti-classical style of Mannerism is based on classical style specifically antique relief. He suggests that Mannerists connected with the idealization of classical art. Smyth says, the classic solution kept painters feeling at one with them, not in the opposition (27). Influenced by the figures of an antique relief, the figures in Pontormo's Deposition appear to be molded out of stone; graceful linear rhythms are created by the intertwined geometric forms. The claustrophobic staging of the figures and the way they are all pushed up the front of the canvas closely resembles the unrealistic space of a relief. Pontormo's forms have a sculptural solidity and cold gray flesh as if they were made of stone. Like a battle relief where no figure has a personal identity, each of Pontormo's figures closely resemble the next, each of their heads and consistently small and oval. The artist was more concerned with grace, form, and details such as drapery rather than the individualism of each character. In his Madonna with the Long

8 steps to managing your time effectively as an admin assistant

8 steps to managing your time effectively as an admin assistant If you’re an administrative assistant, chances are good that youre supposed to rock at everything related to time management.  This vital job skill might not come naturally to you, but it is something you can learn (and become great at) over time. Even if youre on top of things, it’s always possible to streamline even more.Here are 8 strategies for how to manage your time effectively (or even more effectively) while on the job.1. Stop procrastinating.Getting a sense of just how much you procrastinate is often a good motivator to beat this common habit once and for all. Put a little tick mark or X next to a task on your to-do list for every time you think about doing it, but then put it off for later. Start noticing how many tick marks pile up. Pretty crazy, right? Wouldnt it take a lot less of your mental energy just to get something done? Then, you could cross it off and move on!Tackle your tasks promptly. Handle each email or piece of paper only once, and then get i t off your desk. It’s not doing anyone any good just sitting there.2. Keep your inbox clean.Letting emails and snail mail pile up in your inboxes is the kiss of death. Learn how to quickly process information, synthesize it, and turn it into action. When you get a message of any sort, deal with it then. Sort your emails into file folders, leaving only the actionable items. Then breeze through those until you’ve got a blank slate.3. Don’t try to multitask.Unless youre a whiz at doing lots at once, multitasking often ends up meaning you don’t do any tasks. Tackling a lot of little things will decrease your productivity, no matter how good you are at splitting your focus. Practice mindfulness at work. Take it one task at a time. Go a little slower, and you’ll find your productivity and quality of output both increase. Dare to work slowly- if you do it right the first time, you’ll save time overall.4. Eliminate interruptions.Of course, youll get interrupted throughout the course of a day. Just don’t let each one derail you. Keep interactions short, and don’t put down your pen or change your body language to answer questions. Keep coworkers from lingering for a chat. Be friendly, but dismissive when you’re really in the zone.5. Cultivate efficiency.Don’t make extra work for yourself, and take unnecessary steps. Organize tasks in like bunches–for example, aim to make two trips to the copier per day instead of twelve. Plan your errands to maximize efficiency.6. Set a schedule.Set times for each day where you will check your email, then turn off your notifications- except for things marked urgent. You don’t have to read each one the second it comes in. As long as you’re checking multiple times a day- say for five minutes every hour, or ten minutes every two or three hours- you’re not going to miss anything crucial. (And see step 2: when you do take the time to read messag es, deal with them then and there!)7. Prioritize in order of importance.Always manage your workday so you’re dispatching the most important things first. Log an hour first thing (perhaps even before that first cup of office coffee and that first email check) on your most important project. Even if you can’t get that task done in that hour, you’ll have made serious progress and will be more likely to get back to it and complete it that day.8. Organize the spaces around you.Keep your desk clear of clutter. Keep your web addresses sorted alphabetically, and by category. Keep your to-do list lean and mean by revamping it every afternoon before you leave. If all elements around you are neat, clean, and orderly, its much easier to be efficient. Time spent looking for things is time better spent on completing tasks!

Achaeans of Homer as a society with a certain set of values

Achaeans of Homer as a society with a certain set of values â€Å"Rage: Sing, Goddess, Achilles rage, / Black and murderous, that cost the Greeks / Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls / Of heroes into Hades dark, / And left their bodies to rot as feasts / For dogs and birds† (1.1-6) This opening line of The Iliad vividly recounts the atrocities that Achilles, supposedly â€Å"the best Greek of all,† brings upon his own people through his childish rage and selfish indifference (1.259). As a representative of his people, a hero is supposed to embody the values most important to his civilization. This characterization is not initially true of Achilles. An analysis of the most influential Achaean ideals reveals that Achilles does not consistently and flawlessly model the values esteemed by his peers, but his ability to mature emotionally and morally secures for him the title of best of Achaeans. Summarizing the value system of a complex civilization into a few basic ideas presents immediate problems, especially when the ideology of the civilization is presented through a literary medium such as The Iliad. Despite this complexity, the search for kleos—honor, fame, glory—serves as the inherent basis for the Achaean value system of the army at Troy. Specifically defining kleos and the actions that warrant it is difficult because of the frequency with which the ideal is evoked. However, the aspiration to embody the ideal of kleos is often sought on the battlefield through agathos actions. To many Achaeans, exhibiting bravery, even to the point of death, is the greatest way to earn kleos. â€Å"When a young man is killed in war, / Even though his body is slashed with bronze, / He lies there beautiful in death, noble† (22.80-82). While the plot of the epic centers around, to modern readers, brutally graphic battle sequences, this sense of noble bravery undeni ably colors the warriors actions. Warriors commonly choose to evaluate how their actions will be viewed by later generations. Hector, while obviously not a member of the Greek army, shares this value and summarizes it thusly: [S]omeone in the generations yet to come Will say as he sails by on the darkening sea, That is the tomb of a man long dead, Killed in his prime by glorious Hector. Some will say that, and my fame will not die. (7.90-94) In the original Greek text, Hector’s thought is expressed using the word kleos. Hector believes that the noble bravery he exhibits through challenging the best of the Achaean army will make his kleos everlasting among men. In the minds of the Achaean warriors, bravery on the battlefield is indistinguishable from moral uprightness; Both qualities contribute to kleos . Therefore, the necessity to be sophos—wise and clever—is conveniently intertwined within the greater idea of kleos on the battlefield. While the ability to triumph at battles requiring only brute strength is highly prized, so too is the ability to succeed through cunning when the situation is unfavorable. Nestor, while speaking with his son about the upcoming chariot race, proclaims plainly that â€Å"[s]trategy makes a better woodcutter than strength† (23.339). Beyond the idea of being merely wise in counsel and clever in races or on the battlefield, the sophos ideal extends partially into the realm of relationships. Briseis, a Trojan women taken captive after the sacking of her city, refers to her â€Å"poor Patroclus† as someone who was quite â€Å"dear† to her (19.335). This aspect of the sophos idea l places marked importance on winning over the hearts and minds of captured women through wise advice and pleasurable companionship, not simply holding them by force. Most interpersonal interactions, however, are governed by the powerful philos ideal. It is expected that true warrior heroes maintain loyalty to their family and friends, be that by making their fathers proud, avenging the death of a close companion, or showing family devotion. Various relationships are governed under this principle, but the most important one is undeniably that between father and son. Great heroes are commonly introduced, not simply by their own name, but also by that of their father. Even the great Achilles is remembered as the â€Å"son of Peleus,† despite his own personal achievements (1.335). Other relationships, specifically that between husband and wife, are significant but of secondary importance. This philos ideal is inextricably intertwined within the concept of bravery and noble behavior that is already expected of any hero. While these highly ingrained values clearly govern the actions of heroic Achaeans, respect for the gods and fate plays an important role in Greek society. Finding it unnecessary to offer sacrifices to the gods on Olympus, or even simply forgetting, often leads to the negative interference of certain deities at crucial moments. During an archery contest against Teucer, Meriones fails because of Apollos displeasure. â€Å"He let fly an arrow, a strong shot, / But he failed to vow to the Archer / A sacrifice of a hundred firstling lambs. So he missed the bird—Apollo grudged him that† (23.88-91). Teucer, more cognizant of the respect demanded by the gods, promises the sacrifice and hits the target that Meriones missed. An unrelated but equally important concept is that of xenia—the sacred relationship between guest and host—that serves as the true cause of the Trojan War. This sacred trust, the Achaeans believe, is protected by Zeus. Paris utter disregard for Menelaus hospitality, as evidenced by his affair and subsequent flight with Helen, his hosts wife, sparks the epic ten year war between the Achaeans and the Trojans. The power of this ideal is demonstrated by Diomedes declaration during his confrontation on the battlefield with Glaucus. We have old ties of hospitality! My grandfather Oeneus long ago Entertained Bellerophon in his halls For twenty days, and they gave each other Gifts of friendship So we cant cross spears with each other Even in the thick of battle. (6.221-225, 234-235) From this exchange, it is evident that the relationship between host and guest is enough to prevent a skirmish between two opposing men, even when the tie is several generations in the past. To expect one character to embody and emulate the entire value system of the Achaeans is unrealistic, especially if the character is required to do so consistently and without fail. Achilles begins the epic feuding with Agamemnon over his war prize Briseis, a confrontation that leads to Achilles disastrous withdrawal from battle. This ultimate act of selfishness, as well as smaller examples of moral transgression, portrays Achilles to be little better than an uncivilized warrior. However, the death of his good friend and foster brother, Patroclus, sparks a radical transformation within Achilles. When he is first informed of the death, his reaction is uncontrollable; â€Å"the sound of Achilles grief stung the air† (18.38). This emotional demonstration of the philos ideal sets into motion many other changes that allow Achilles to transform into a true representation of Greek culture. â€Å"My friend is dead, / Patroclus, my dearest friend of all. I loved him, / And I killed h im† (18.84-86). Accepting responsibility for the death allows Achilles to overcome his petty argument with Agamemnon and return to the battlefield to seek kleos, not only for himself, but also to memorialize Patroclus. Achilles seeks out battle knowing that his own death is imminent, proof of his newly formed, or at least revived, agathos tendencies. That he fights valiantly, even against the great Hector, is to be expected of a warrior like Achilles. However, the wisdom shown by Achilles during the funeral games held in honor of Patroclus is unexpected. During the chariot race, Achilles initially proclaims his desire to award the skilled but unlucky last place finisher with the prize for second place. Antilochus, the true second place finisher, begrudges the prize that Achilles is â€Å"going to rob† from him (23.560). Instead of demanding that his decision is enforced, Achilles has the wisdom to revise his previous decree and choose a different prize for the last plac e finisher. Achilles final maturation occurs when he releases Hectors body to his father, Priam, after being prompted by the gods and persuaded by Priams emotional rhetoric. â€Å"My Hector. It is for him I have come to the Greek shipsRespect the gods, Achilles. / Think of your own father, and pity me† (24. 537, 539-540). This appeal to Achilles philos tendencies as well as his respect for the gods easily persuades him to relinquish the body of Hector. The ability of Achilles to empathize with Priam, so similar to his father, is a drastic reversal of his original attitude when, thinking only of himself, he chose not to join the other Achaean troops fighting against the Trojans. Compounding this outpouring of compassion is the fact that Achilles, unasked, offers to â€Å"hold back the army† until Priam and the other Trojans have had enough time to mourn their Hector (24.708). This noble concern for the man who killed his closest friend, although not immediately forthcoming, reflect s, symbolically, the greater catechism of Achaean values. While the intent of The Iliad is not to extol the unerring virtue of Achilles, his demonstrated ability to mature and develop morally distinguishes him from other prominent, static characters. Initially Achilles is far from embodying the lofty sophos, philos, and agathos ideals that govern the model Achaean warriors quest for kleos. Though his early decisions do not reflect the values lauded by his Achaean peers, time and reflection align his actions with those of a great hero.

Marketing Dissertation Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 2000 words

Marketing - Dissertation Example 110). While this is more pronounced overseas, as France and Germany have been shown in a study to take corporate stewardship more seriously than do Americans, Americans still believe that corporate responsibility is important – â€Å"a recent survey of some 2500 Americans found that 36 percent claimed they seriously considered a company’s corporate citizenship when deciding whether to buy its products† (Paine, 2003, p. 110). Moreover, if a corporation does actions that are disapproved of – say, it is revealed that the corporation conducts unnecessary and cruel tests on animals – this hurts the bottom line, and can lead to boycotts, which are a PR nightmare and can lead to a serious dip in consumers buying its products (Paine, 2003, p. 110). The reason why I chose this topic is because animal testing, especially when the testing is not necessary for advancements for human health, as is the case with cosmetics testing, is one that inspires much passio n on either side of the question, and is an important element of corporate social responsibility. For some people, any kind of animal testing should be verboten, even if the testing is done in the interest of finding human cures. For others, animal testing might not be a problem because, after all, they are â€Å"just animals.† For still others, certain kinds of animal testing might be acceptable, especially if the testing would lead to a medical cure, while other types of testing, such as testing regarding cosmetics, would not be acceptable. How each of these groups view this element of corporate social responsibility would be the center of the inquiry. C. Aims and Objectives The aims of this project will be to discover the feelings of people from all three of the above groups when it comes to certain companies that use animal testing. Do they buy from companies that use animal testing? If not, why not? If so, why? Perhaps a passionate animal advocate might buy products from a cosmetic company that animal tests – what might explain this incongruence? Moreover, I am interested in discovering if companies that do not test on animals emphasize this fact in the advertising campaigns. Lastly, I am interested in finding out how these campaigns affect consumers, and whether or not consumers are less likely to buy from companies that are known to test on animals, and more likely to buy from companies that tout the fact that they do not test on animals. D. Initial Literature Review One of the questions that is of interest is why some people care more about animal rights than do others. The reason why this is an important question is because it can answer why certain consumers will not buy products from cosmetic companies that use animal testing, while others do not care either way. Unti and Rowan (2001) theorize that childhood attitudes accounts for who has more compassion for animals than others (Unti & Rowan, 2001, p. 27). Other theories state that the concern from animals comes to a concern for the oppressed (Unti & Rowan, 2001, p. 27). As to the question of whether companies emphasize their corporate social responsibility, there is some indication that they do not (Blyth, 2003, p. 16). As for the question about how corporate irresponsible practices, such as animal testing, affect consumers, it is useful to examine how consumers react to other corporate social irresponsible

The UK Government is Increasing the Retirement Age Literature review

The UK Government is Increasing the Retirement Age - Literature review Example Therefore, increasing the retirement age will mean more advantage to the elderly employees in the UK construction industry, considering that employers are reluctant to offer employments positions to older workers. Age discrimination could worsen, considering the negative attitudes that exist with regards to performance of the aged. Negative attitudes claimed that Low performance of the aged has contributed largely to early retirement among employees (United Nations, 2009, p. 52). The negative attitudes with regards to low performance of the aged could be improved with good performance and contributions of the older employees who have for a long time been denied the opportunity to prove their efficiency at an old age. Employee Age Discrimination According to Lewis, Lewis, and Thornbory (2006, p. 160), older workers are discriminated against on the claims that at an old age, employees tend to have less physical strength and incapability to endure hard conditions in work environments su ch as the construction industry. More to this, the older employees are also discriminated on claims that their cognitive capacity is low compared to younger employees. However, eliminating age discrimination in the UK construction industry would be attracting, motivating, and retaining the aged staffs that are fit for leadership and motivation of the younger employees. More so, employers could gain much reputation as transparent and an equal opportunity employer for development of skills and empowerment to the members. Direct discrimination involves treating individual employee less favorably with regards to their perceived or actual age associated with the individuals where no legitimate aim is justified. Indirect discrimination occurs in situations where policies, procedures and practices that apply to all employees exist, but in specification to the individuals perceived to be old. These practices, procedures, and policies may include application requirements for a particular job that excludes a particular group of disadvantaged individuals, where no legitimate aim is justified. This practice amounts to violation of the law, since the UK legislations demand that employers should not discriminate against employees by their age and incase so, the case must be justifiable fact as a legitimate objective of the organization (Fineman, 2011, p. 59). Harassment implies situations where unwanted behavior towards the aged employees has the purpose and impact of violation of a person’s dignity with regards to intimidation, human degradation, hostility, and humiliation of employees. On the other hand, victimization refers to an unfair treatment brought forward as a complaint by an employee who is regarded to have been treated unfairly based on age. The threat and complaints of age discrimination in the construction industry seem to be rampant at an early age compared to other industries. The increase in the retirement age by the UK government may lead to increas ed case of discrimination against the aging employees. Older workers are often put under pressure by both employers and fellow young employees to retire against their wish (Adams and Beehr, 2003). The UK construction industry is faced by rampant age discrimination claims among employees who are entering their phases of prime

What the Writer Thought of the Event Essay Example for Free

What the Writer Thought of the Event Essay What the event symbolized for America was explicitly stated in the editorial — Woodstock was the kind of success that could be achieved when there is benevolence among people. Everyone saw a disaster out of Woodstock in the beginning. People predicted it would end out a havoc. Even hip radio stations warned people against it. It was easy for the Americans to think that such a large gathering of people in such a place would end up to no good, especially when it’s the youth that is involved. However, as the event turned out to be a success, America realized that it is not impossible for people to come together and be in a state of harmony at the same time. More importantly, Woodstock became a realization for America that the power of benevolence could do such amazing things, and could rise above such adversities as shortage in water, toilets, bad trips, and even thunderstorms. Aside from these, Woodstock symbolized for the rest of America that their youth is not going down the drain. Instead, their youth is worthy of respect and emulation, because amidst the prejudice against their capabilities and their culture, is their power to rise above the adversity and to display such a culture of good will among perfect strangers. For the parents of America at that time, Woodstock was a â€Å"wakeup call’ that their children did something worthy of their approval , and that this is what is important amidst the drugs and the display of nudity. The bottomline is that Woodstock, for America, had become as symbol of both the power of the youth and the power of benevolence, and the beauty that comes when these two powers work together. For the writer, not only was Woodstock Music and Art Fair an â€Å"Aquarian Exposition of music and peace . It was much more. It ranked among one of the most important sociological and political events of the decade. Not only was it the largest happening that ever was in history at the time, it was also a public announcement of the culture of America’s youth in the sixties. It was a manifestation of their â€Å"strength, appeal, and power† (TIME, 1969). Along the article, the writer pointed out how massive the gathering was, even estimating that had the roads not been blocked, there would have been a million people between the age of 16-30 at Woodstock. And though the writer acknowledged the presence of the largest gathering of rock idols as a bait for the crowd to come, he pointed out a more analytical reason for the gathering. According to him, Woodstock was a kind of â€Å"pilgrimage† where the youths sought to discover that there were hundreds of thousand of people who shared their culture, in other words, that they are not isolated, as they have previously thought they were (TIME, 1969). The writer was also quick to acknowledge the fact that the old generation of Americans initially saw the event as a â€Å"squalid freakout,† but had experienced a change of tune, which included even the New York Times . Along with this, however, the writer ran a paragraph that told about both the â€Å"deplorable† and commendable things about the event that could be the reason for such a two-sided perception of the event. The bad side of Woodstock that the writer perceived included deaths and illnesses from drugs, as well as the deplorable case of sanitation, accommodation, garbage, and rains throughout the event. However, the writer exalted in the fact that â€Å"there were no rapes, no assaults, no robberies and, as far as anyone can recall, not one single fight† (TIME, 1969). In the length of the rest of the article, the writer presented several analysis of the meaning of Woodstock. Among these was that Woodstock was a manifestation of the youth’s valuation of self over society, and aside from the youth’s total separation from the norms of the past generation, was also a manifestation that the adults could not control them anymore. However, along with these was the youth’s perception that they are changing the society for the good and that they did not need someone to lead them since they already have each other . In the end, the writer was able to send a message of questioning to his readers. A question of â€Å"to what purpose† could the outpouring and extremely powerful emotions of the youth could be harnessed politically. His advice was made implicitly by quoting what a sociologist had to say about the event . Towards the end, the writer’s advice turned out into a warning about the possible negative impacts of the event, instead of a dawning of enlightenment .

Aesthetic Music Educatin and the Influence of Bennett Reimer Essay

An explicit concept since the late 1950s, aesthetic education first developed to provide a strong philosophical foundation for music education and continues to evolve as a solid theoretical orientation for current effective practices. Bennett Reimer has contributed much to the discussion and development of the value of aesthetic education for the teaching and learning of music. Others in music education also support and promote these ideals and focus on developing an improved understanding for music educators. Some scholars oppose the principles of an aesthetic education, recently demonstrated by David Elliott who favors a praxial philosophy of music education centered on musical performance. The work of Reimer shows an influence of these thinkers and illustrates the essential benefits of a professional emphasis on aesthetics, the branch of philosophy especially devoted to studying the value of the arts. With guidance from aesthetics, music educators better understand the value of music and its fundamental role within the school curriculum. With its introduction, aesthetic education provided an understanding of authentic fundamental characteristics of music not previously discussed and encouraged an articulation of those ideas into relevant objectives for teaching and learning. The appearance of Basic Concepts in Music Education (ed. Nelson B. Henry, 1958) and the college text Foundations and Principles of Music Education (Charles Leonard and Robert W. House, 1959) promoted the acceptance of an aesthetic-based philosophy as a guiding theoretical foundation. These significant resources encouraged individuals to put their previous intuitions into effective practice using a shared, progressive concept of musical experience and learning. Many music educators embraced aesthetic education (and continue to do so) because it reinforced the validity of music study in the school curriculum for reasons intrinsic to the art itself. Reimer emphasizes that we (as music educators) need not establish discipleship to one particular person or point of view of aesthetic education. The ideal of â€Å"Music Education as Aesthetic Education† (MEAE) does not exist as a particular collection of fixed certainties; it supports the attitude that philosophical truths develop and transform as we advance and verify new ideas. Many sources (books, journals, articles, etc.) provide the insig... ...le, J. Scott and Marie McCarthy. â€Å"Music Education Philosophy: Changing Times,† Music Educators Journal, 89:1 (September 2002): 19-26. Reimer, Bennett. â€Å"Putting Aesthetic Education to Work,† Music Educators Journal, 59 (September 1972): 29-33. Reimer, Bennett. â€Å"Music Education as Aesthetic Education: Past and Present,† Music Educators Journal, 75 (February 1989): 22-8. Reimer, Bennett. â€Å"Music Education as Aesthetic Education: Toward the Future,† Music Educators Journal, 75 (March 1989): 26-32. Reimer, Bennett. â€Å"Essential and Nonessential Characteristics of Aesthetic Education,† Journal of Aesthetic Education, 25:3 (Fall 1991): 193-214. Reimer, Bennett. â€Å"David Elliott’s â€Å"New† Philosophy of Music Education: Music for Performers Only,† Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education, 128 (Spring 1996): 59-89. Reimer, Bennett. A Philosophy of Music Education, 3rd edition, (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2003). Schwadron, Abraham. â€Å"Some Thoughts on Aesthetic Education,† Music Educators Journal, 56:2 (October 1969): 35-6, 79, 81-5. Schwadron, Abraham. â€Å"Are We Ready for Aesthetic Education,† Music Educators Journal, 60:2 (October 1973): 37-9, 87-9.

Last Sacrifice Chapter Twenty-one

I DIDN'T GET TO DRIVE. â€Å"General' Sydney didn't either, much to her outrage, though Dimitri did some fast- talking to explain why. It all started when Victor discovered his car was having â€Å"engine trouble.' He wasn't very happy about that. He made no accusations, but I think everyone there–even Sonya and Robert–could guess the malfunction wasn't coincidental. This meant we all had to pile in the CR-V, which hadn't been designed to seat so many people–which was why Dimitri had come up with a creative seating plan. Of course, one of those â€Å"seats' turned out to be the cargo space in the back. It was good-sized, but when Sydney learned it was her seat, she accused Dimitri of adding insult to the injury of taking her keys. I wouldn't tell her so, but putting her back there was a sound choice. Dimitri's seating chart was configured to minimize threats inside the car. Dimitri drove, with Robert going shotgun, and me between Victor and Sonya in the backseat. This put a guardian in each row, separated the brothers, and kept the spirit users apart too. When I argued that he and I could switch spots and still maintain the same security, Dimitri pointed out that having me at the wheel wouldn't be safe if I had to suddenly flip to Lissa's mind. It was a fair point. As for Sydney †¦ well, she was neither a threat nor a fighting force, so she got offloaded to the back. And speaking of dead weight †¦ â€Å"We have got to get rid of Victor and Robert now,' I murmured to Dimitri, as we loaded the CR-V with groceries and our meager luggage (further reducing Sydney's space, much to her outrage). â€Å"They've done what we needed. Keeping them is dangerous. It's time to turn them over to the guardians.' The brothers wanted to continue on with us in order to find Lissa's sibling. We were letting them–but not out of generosity. We simply couldn't let them out of our sights yet. â€Å"Agreed,' Dimitri said, frowning slightly. â€Å"But there's no good way to do it. Not yet. We can't leave them tied up beside the road; I wouldn't put it past them to escape and hitchhike. We also can't turn them in ourselves, for obvious reasons.' I set a bag inside the car and leaned against the bumper. â€Å"Sydney could turn them in.' Dimitri nodded. â€Å"That's probably our best bet–but I don't want to part with her until we get to †¦ well, wherever we're going. We might need her help.' I sighed. â€Å"And so, we drag them along.' â€Å"Afraid so,' he said. He gave me wary look. â€Å"You know, when they are in custody, there's a very good chance they'll have quite a story to tell the authorities about us.' â€Å"Yeah.' I'd been thinking about that too. â€Å"I guess that's a problem for later. Gotta deal with the immediate problems first.' To my surprise, Dimitri smiled at me. I would have expected some prudent, wise remark. â€Å"Well, that's always been our strategy, hasn't it?' he asked. I smiled in return, but it was short-lived, once we hit the road. Mercifully, Victor wasn't his usual annoying chatty self–which I suspected was because he was growing weak from lack of blood. Sonya and Robert had to be feeling the same way. This was going to be a problem if we didn't get a feeder soon, but I didn't know how we were going to pull that off. I had the impression Sydney hadn't realized any of this yet, which was just as well. Being a human among a group of hungry vampires would certainly make me nervous. She was actually probably safer sequestered in the back from everyone else. Sonya's directions were vague and very need-to-know. She only gave us short-term information and often wouldn't warn about a turn until we were right on top of it. We had no idea where we were going or how long it would take. She scanned a map and then told Dimitri to go north on I-75. When we asked how long our trip would take, her response was: â€Å"Not long. A few hours. Maybe more.' And with that mysterious explanation, she settled back in her seat and said no more. There was a haunted, pensive expression on her face, and I tried to imagine how she felt. Only a day ago she'd been Strigoi. Was she still processing what had happened? Was she seeing the faces of her victims as Dimitri had? Was she tormenting herself with guilt? Did she want to become Strigoi again? I left her alone. Now wasn't the time for therapy. I settled back, preparing myself to be patient. A tingle of consciousness suddenly sparked in the bond, shifting my attention inward. Lissa was awake. I blinked and looked at the dashboard clock. Afternoon for humans. The Moroi at Court should have been long asleep by now. But no, something had awakened her. Two guardians stood at her door, faces impassive. â€Å"You have to come with us,' one of them said. â€Å"It's time for the next test.' Astonishment filled Lissa. She'd known the next test was â€Å"coming soon' but hadn't heard any further details since returning from the endurance test. That trip had taken place during the Moroi night too, but she'd at least had fair warning. Eddie stood nearby in her room, having replaced my mother as Lissa's protection a few hours ago. Christian sat up in Lissa's bed, yawning. They hadn't gotten hot and heavy, but Lissa liked having him around. Snuggling with her boyfriend while Eddie was in the room didn't seem as weird to her as it did when my mom was there. I didn't blame her. â€Å"Can I change?' Lissa asked. â€Å"Be quick,' said the guardian. She grabbed the first outfit she could and hurried to the bathroom, feeling confused and nervous. When she came out, Christian had pulled on his jeans already and was reaching for his T-shirt. Eddie meanwhile was sizing up the guardians, and I could guess his thoughts because I would have shared the same ones. This wakeup call seemed official, but he didn't know these guardians and didn't totally trust them. â€Å"Can I escort her?' he asked. â€Å"Only as far as the testing area,' said the second guardian. â€Å"What about me?' asked Christian. â€Å"Only as far as the testing area.' The guardians' answers surprised me, but then, I realized it was probably common for monarch candidates to go to their tests with entourages–even unexpected tests in the middle of the night. Or maybe not so unexpected. The Court's grounds were virtually deserted, but when her group reached their destination–a small, out of the way section of an old brick building–she had to pass several groups of Moroi lining the halls. Apparently, word had gotten out. Those gathered stepped aside respectfully. Some–probably advocates of other families–gave her scowls. But lots of other people smiled at her and called out about â€Å"the dragon's return.' A few even brushed their hands against her arms, as though taking luck or power from her. The crowd was much smaller than the one who'd greeted her after the first test. This eased her anxiety but didn't shake her earlier resolve to take the tests seriously. The faces of the onlookers shone with awe and curiosity, wondering if she might be the next to rule them. A doorway at the end of the hall marked the conclusion of her journey. Neither Christian nor Eddie needed to be told that this was as far as they could go. Lissa glanced at the two of them over her shoulder before following one of the guardians inside, taking comfort from her loved ones' supportive faces. After the epic adventure of the first test, Lissa expected something equally intimidating. What she found instead was an old Moroi woman sitting comfortably in a chair in a mostly empty room. Her hands were folded in her lap, holding something wrapped in cloth. The woman hummed, seeming very content. And when I say old, I mean she was old. Moroi could live until their early 100s, and this woman had clearly crossed that mark. Her pale skin was a maze of wrinkles, and her gray hair was wispy and thin. She smiled when she saw Lissa and nodded toward an empty chair. A small table sat beside it with a glass pitcher of water. The guardians left the women alone. Lissa glanced around her surroundings. There were no other furnishings, though there was a plain door opposite the one she had come through. She sat down and then turned toward the old woman. â€Å"Hello,' said Lissa, trying to keep her voice strong. â€Å"I'm Vasilisa Dragomir.' The woman's small smile grew, showing her yellowed teeth. One of her fangs was missing. â€Å"Always such manners in your family,' she croaked. â€Å"Most people come in here and demand we get down to business. But I remember your grandfather. He was polite during his test as well.' â€Å"You knew my grandfather?' exclaimed Lissa. He had died when she was very, very young. Then, she picked up another meaning in the woman's words. â€Å"He ran for king?' The woman nodded. â€Å"Passed all his tests. I think he would have won the election, if he hadn't withdrawn at the last moment. After that, it was a coin's toss between Tatiana Ivashkov and Jacob Tarus. Very close, that one. The Taruses still hold a grudge.' Lissa had never heard any of this. â€Å"Why'd my grandfather withdraw?' â€Å"Because your brother had just been born. Frederick decided he needed to devote his energy to his fledgling family, instead of a nation.' Lissa could understand this. How many Dragomirs were there back then? Her grandfather, her father, and Andre–and her mother, but only by marriage. Eric Dragomir hadn't had any brothers or sisters. Lissa knew little about her grandfather, but in his place, she decided that she too would have rather spent time with her son and grandson, instead of listening to the endless speeches Tatiana had had to deal with. Lissa's mind had wandered, and the old woman was watching her carefully. â€Å"Is †¦ this the test?' asked Lissa, once the silence had gone on too long. â€Å"Is it, like, an interview?' The old woman shook her head. â€Å"No. It's this.' She unwrapped the object in her lap. It was a cup–a chalice or a goblet. I'm not sure which. But it was beautiful, made of silver that seemed to glow with its own light. Blood-red rubies were scattered along the sides, glittering with each turn of the cup. The woman regarded it fondly. â€Å"Over a thousand years old, and it still gleams.' She took the pitcher and filled the chalice with water while Lissa and I processed the words. A thousand years? I was no metal expert, but even I knew silver should have tarnished in that time. The woman held out the cup to Lissa. â€Å"Drink from it. And when you want to stop, say'stop.† Lissa reached for the cup, more confused than ever by the odd instructions. What was she supposed to stop? Drinking? As soon as her fingers touched the metal, she understood. Well, kind of. A tingle ran through her, one she knew well. â€Å"This is charmed,' she said. The old woman nodded. â€Å"Infused with all four elements and a spell long since forgotten.' Charmed with spirit too, thought Lissa. That too must have been forgotten, and it put her on edge. Elemental charms had different effects. Earth charms–like the tattoo she'd been given–were often tied with minor compulsion spells. The combination of all four in a stake or ward provided a unified blast of life that blocked the undead. But spirit †¦ well, she was quickly learning that spirit charms covered a wide range of unpredictable effects. The water no doubt activated the spell, but Lissa had a feeling that spirit was going to be the key player. Even though it was the power that burned in her blood, it still scared her. The spell woven into this cup was complex, far beyond her skills, and she feared what it would do. The old woman stared unblinkingly. Lissa hesitated only a moment more. She drank. The world faded away, then rematerialized into something completely different. She and I both recognized what this was: a spirit dream. She no longer stood in the plain room. She was outdoors, wind whipping her long hair in front of her face. She brushed it aside as best she could. Other people stood around her, all of them in black, and she soon recognized the Court's church and graveyard. Lissa herself wore black, along with a long wool coat to protect against the chill. They were gathered around a grave, and a priest stood near it, his robes of office offering the only color on that gray day. Lissa took a few steps over, trying to see whose name was on the tombstone. What she discovered shocked me more than her: ROSEMARIE HATHAWAY. My name was carved into the granite in regal, elaborate font. Below my name was the star of battle, signifying that I'd killed more Strigoi than could be counted. Go me. Beneath that were three lines of text in Russian, Romanian, and English. I didn't need the English translation to know what each line said because it was standard for a guardian's grave: â€Å"Eternal Service.' The priest spoke customary funeral words, giving me the blessings of a religion I wasn't sure I believed in. That was the least weird thing here, however, seeing as I was watching my own funeral. When he finished, Alberta took his place. Lauding the deceased's achievements was also normal at a guardian's funeral–and Alberta had plenty to say about mine. Had I been there, I would have been moved to tears. She concluded by describing my last battle, how I'd died defending Lissa. That actually didn't weird me out so much. I mean, don't get me wrong. Everything going on here was completely insane. But, reasonably speaking, if I was actually watching my own funeral, it made sense that I would have died protecting her. Lissa didn't share my feelings. The news was a slap in the face to her. She suddenly became aware of a horrible empty feeling in her chest, like part of her was gone. The bond only worked one way, yet Robert had sworn losing his bondmate had left him in agony. Lissa understood it now, that terrible, lonely ache. She was missing something she'd never even known she'd had. Tears brimmed in her eyes. This is a dream, she told herself. That's all. But she'd never had a spirit dream like this. Her experiences had always been with Adrian, and the dreams had felt like telephone calls. When the mourners dispersed from the graveyard, Lissa felt a hand touch her shoulder. Christian. She threw herself gratefully into his arms, trying hard to hold back sobs. He felt real and solid. Safe. â€Å"How did this happen?' she asked. â€Å"How could it have happened?' Christian released her, his crystal-blue eyes more serious and sorrowful than I'd ever seen. â€Å"You know how. Those Strigoi were trying to kill you. She sacrificed herself to save you.' Lissa had no memory of this, but it didn't matter. â€Å"I can't †¦ I can't believe this is happening.' That agonizing emptiness grew within her. â€Å"I have more bad news,' said Christian. She stared in astonishment. â€Å"How could this get any worse?' â€Å"I'm leaving.' â€Å"Leaving †¦ what? Court?' â€Å"Yes. Leaving everything.' The sadness on his face grew. â€Å"Leaving you.' Her jaw nearly dropped. â€Å"What †¦ what's wrong? What did I do?' â€Å"Nothing.' He squeezed her hand and let it go. â€Å"I love you. I'll always love you. But you are who you are. You're the last Dragomir. There'll always be something taking you away †¦ I'd just get in your way. You need to rebuild your family. I'm not the one you need.' â€Å"Of course you are! You are the only one! The only one I want to build my future with.' â€Å"You say that now, but just wait. There are better choices. You heard Adrian's joke. â€Å"Little Dragomirs'? When you're ready for kids in a few years, you're going to need a bunch. The Dragomirs need to be solid again. And me? I'm not responsible enough to handle that.' â€Å"You'd be a great father,' she argued. â€Å"Yeah,' he scoffed, â€Å"and I'd be a big asset to you too–the princess married to the guy from the Strigoi family.' â€Å"I don't care about any of that, and you know it!' She clutched at his shirt, forcing him to look at her. â€Å"I love you. I want you to be part of my life. None of this makes sense. Are you scared? Is that it? Are you scared of the weight of my family name?' He averted his eyes. â€Å"Let's just say it's not an easy name to carry.' She shook him. â€Å"I don't believe you! You're not afraid of anything! You never back down.' â€Å"I'm backing down now.' He gently removed himself from her. â€Å"I really do love you. That's why I'm doing this. It's for the best.' â€Å"But you can't †¦' Lissa gestured toward my grave, but he was already walking away. â€Å"You can't! She's gone. If you're gone too, there'll be no one †¦' But Christian was gone, disappearing into fog that hadn't been there minutes ago. Lissa was left with only my tombstone for company. And for the first time in her life, she was really and truly alone. She had felt alone when her family died, but I'd been her anchor, always at her back, protecting her. When Christian had come along, he too had kept the loneliness away, filling her heart with love. But now †¦ now we were both gone. Her family was gone. That hole inside threatened to consume her, and it was more than just the loss of the bond. Being alone is a terrible, terrible thing. There's no one to run to, no one to confide in, no one who cares what happens to you. She'd been alone in the woods, but that was nothing like this. Nothing like it at all. Staring around, she wished she could go sink into my grave and end her torment. No †¦ wait. She really could end it. Say ‘stop,' the old woman had said. That was all it took to stop this pain. This was a spirit dream, right? True, it was more realistic and all- consuming than any she'd ever faced, but in the end, all dreamers woke up. One word, and this would become a fading nightmare. Staring around at the empty Court, she almost said the word. But †¦ did she want to end things? She'd vowed to fight through these trials. Would she give up over a dream? A dream about being alone? It seemed like such a minor thing, but that cold truth hit her again: I've never been alone. She didn't know if she could carry on by herself, but then, she realized that if this wasn't a dream–and dear God, did it feel real–there was no magic â€Å"stop' in real life. If she couldn't deal with loneliness in a dream, she never would be able to while waking. And as much as it scared her, she decided she would not back down from this. Something urged her toward the fog, and she walked toward it–alone. The fog should have led her into the church's garden. Instead, the world rematerialized and she found herself in a Council session. It was an open one, with a Moroi audience watching. Unlike usual, Lissa didn't sit with the audience. She was at the Council's table, with its thirteen chairs. She sat in the Dragomir seat. The middle chair, the monarch's chair, was occupied by Ariana Szelsky. Definitely a dream, some wry part of her thought. She had a Council spot and Ariana was queen. Too good to be true. Like always, the Council was in a heated debate, and the topic was familiar: the age decree. Some Council members argued that it was immoral. Others argued that the Strigoi threat was too great. Desperate times called for desperate actions, those people said. Ariana peered down the table at Lissa. â€Å"What does the Dragomir family think?' Ariana was neither as kind as she'd been in the van nor as hostile as Tatiana had been. Ariana was neutral, a queen running a Council and gathering the information she needed. Every set of eyes in the room turned toward Lissa. For some reason, every coherent idea had fled out of her head. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. What did she think? What was her opinion of the age decree? She desperately tried to dredge up an answer. â€Å"I †¦ I think it's bad.' Lee Szelsky, who must have taken the family spot when Ariana became queen, snorted in disgust. â€Å"Can you elaborate, princess?' Lissa swallowed. â€Å"Lowering the guardian age isn't the way to protect us. We need †¦ we need to learn to protect ourselves too.' Her words were met with more contempt and shock. â€Å"And pray tell,' said Howard Zeklos, â€Å"how do you plan to do that? What's your proposal? Mandatory training for all ages? Start a program in the schools?' Again Lissa groped for words. What was the plan? She and Tasha had discussed it lots of times, strategizing this very issue of how to implement training. Tasha had practically pounded those details into her head in the hopes Lissa could make her voice heard. Here she was now, representing her family on the Council, with the chance to change things and improve Moroi life. All she had to do was explain herself. So many were counting on her, so many waiting to hear the words she felt so passionately about. But what were they? Why couldn't Lissa remember? She must have taken too long to answer because Howard threw his hands up in disgust. â€Å"I knew it. We were idiots to let a little girl on this Council. She has nothing useful to offer. The Dragomirs are gone. They've died with her, and we need to accept that.' They've died with her. The pressure of being the last of her line had weighed on Lissa since the moment a doctor had told her that her parents and brother had died. The last of a line that had empowered the Moroi and produced some of the greatest kings and queens. She'd vowed to herself over and over that she wouldn't disappoint that lineage, that she would see her family's pride restored. And now it was all falling apart. Even Ariana, whom Lissa had considered a supporter, looked disappointed. The audience began to jeer, echoing the call of removing this tongue-tied child from the Council. They yelled for her to leave. Then, worse still: â€Å"The dragon is dead! The dragon is dead!' Lissa almost tried again to make her speech, but then something made her look behind her. There, the twelve family seals hung on the wall. A man had appeared out of nowhere and was taking down the Dragomir's crest, with its dragon and Romanian inscription. Lissa's heart sank as the shouts in the room became louder and her humiliation grew. She rose, wanting to run out of there and hide from the disgrace. Instead, her feet took her to the wall with its seals. With more strength than she thought herself capable of possessing, she jerked the dragon seal away from the man. â€Å"No!' she yelled. She turned her gaze to the audience and held up the seal, challenging any of them to come take it from her or deny her her rightful place on the Council. â€Å"This. Is. Mine. Do you hear me? This is mine!' She would never know if they heard because they disappeared, just like the graveyard. Silence fell. She now sat in one of the medical examining rooms back at St. Vladimir's. The familiar details were oddly comforting: the sink with its orange hand soap, the neatly labeled cupboards and drawers, and even the informative health posters on the walls. STUDENTS: PRACTICE SAFE SEX! Equally welcome was the school's resident physician: Dr. Olendzki. The doctor wasn't alone. Standing around Lissa–who sat on top of an examination bed–were a therapist named Deirdre and †¦ me. Seeing myself there was pretty wacky, but after the funeral, I was just starting to roll with all of this. A surprising mix of feelings raced through Lissa, feelings out of her control. Happiness to see us. Despair at life. Confusion. Suspicion. She couldn't seem to get a hold of one emotion or thought. It was a very different feeling from the Council, when she just hadn't been able to explain herself. Her mind had been orderly–she'd just lost track of her point. Here, there was nothing to keep track of. She was a mental mess. â€Å"Do you understand?' asked Dr. Olendzki. Lissa suspected the doctor had already asked this question. â€Å"It's beyond what we can control. Medication no longer works.' â€Å"Believe me, we don't want you hurting yourself. But now that others are at risk †¦ well, you understand why we have to take action.' This was Deirdre. I'd always thought of her as smug, particularly since her therapeutic method involved answering questions with questions. There was no sly humor now. Deirdre was deadly earnest. None of their words made sense to Lissa, but the hurting yourself part triggered something in her. She looked down at her arms. They were bare †¦ and marred with cuts. The cuts she used to make when the pressure of spirit grew too great. They'd been her only outlet, a horrible type of release. Studying them now, Lissa saw the cuts were bigger and deeper than before. The kinds of cuts that danced with suicide. She looked back up. â€Å"Who †¦ who did I hurt?' â€Å"You don't remember?' asked Dr. Olendzki. Lissa shook her head, looking desperately from face to face, seeking answers. Her gaze fell on me, and my face was as dark and somber as Deirdre's. â€Å"It's okay, Liss,' I said. â€Å"It's all going to be okay.' I wasn't surprised at that. Naturally, it was what I would say. I would always reassure Lissa. I would always take care of her. â€Å"It's not important,' said Deirdre, voice soft and soothing. â€Å"What's important is no one else ever gets hurt. You don't want to hurt anyone, do you?' Of course Lissa didn't, but her troubled mind shifted elsewhere. â€Å"Don't talk to me like a child!' The loudness of her voice filled the room. â€Å"I didn't mean to,' said Deirdre, the paragon of patience. â€Å"We just want to help you. We want you to be safe.' Paranoia rose to the forefront of Lissa's emotions. Nowhere was safe. She was certain about that †¦ but nothing else. Except maybe something about a dream. A dream, a dream †¦ â€Å"They'll be able to take care of you in Tarasov,' explained Dr. Olendzki. â€Å"They'll make sure you're comfortable.' â€Å"Tarasov?' Lissa and I spoke in unison. This other Rose clenched her fists and glared. Again, a typical reaction for me. â€Å"She is not going to that place,' growled Rose. â€Å"Do you think we want to do this?' asked Deirdre. It was the first time I'd really seen her cool facade crumble. â€Å"We don't. But the spirit †¦ what it's doing †¦ we have no choice †¦' Images of our trip to Tarasov flashed through Lissa's mind. The cold, cold corridors. The moans. The tiny cells. She remembered seeing the psychiatric ward, the section other spirit users were locked up in. Locked up indefinitely. â€Å"No!' she cried, jumping up from the table. â€Å"Don't send me to Tarasov!' She looked around for escape. The women stood between her and the door. Lissa couldn't run. What magic could she use? Surely there was something. Her mind touched spirit, as she rifled for a spell. Other-Rose grabbed a hold of her hand, likely because she'd felt the stirrings of spirit and wanted to stop Lissa. â€Å"There's another way,' my alter ego told Deirdre and Dr. Olendzki. â€Å"I can pull it from her. I can pull it all from her, like Anna did for St. Vladimir. I can take away the darkness and instability. Lissa will be sane again.' Everyone stared at me. Well, the other me. â€Å"But then it'll be in you, right?' asked Dr. Olendzki. â€Å"It won't disappear.' â€Å"I don't care,' I told them stubbornly. â€Å"I'll go to Tarasov. Don't send her. I can do it as long as she needs me to.' Lissa watched me, scarcely believing what she heard. Her chaotic thoughts turned joyous. Yes! Escape. She wouldn't go crazy. She wouldn't go to Tarasov. Then, somewhere in the jumble of her memories †¦ â€Å"Anna committed suicide,' murmured Lissa. Her grasp on reality was still tenuous, but that sobering thought was enough to momentarily calm her racing mind. â€Å"She went crazy from helping St. Vladimir.' My other self refused to look at Lissa. â€Å"It's just a story. I'll take the darkness. Send me.' Lissa didn't know what to do or think. She didn't want to go to Tarasov. That prison gave her nightmares. And here I was, offering her escape, offering to save her like I always did. Lissa wanted that. She wanted to be saved. She didn't want to go insane like all the other spirit users. If she accepted my offer, she would be free. Yet †¦ on the edge or not, she cared about me too much. I had made too many sacrifices for her. How could she let me do this? What kind of friend would she be, to condemn me to that life? Tarasov scared Lissa. A life in a cage scared Lissa. But me facing that scared her even more. There was no good outcome here. She wished it would all just go away. Maybe if she just closed her eyes †¦ wait. She remembered again. The dream. She was in a spirit dream. All she had to do was wake up. Say â€Å"stop.' It was easier this time. Saying that word was the simple way out, the perfect solution. No Tarasov for either of us, right? Then, she felt a lightening of the pressure on her mind, a stilling of those chaotic feelings. Her eyes widened as she realized I had already started pulling away the darkness. ‘Stop' was forgotten. â€Å"No!' Spirit burned through her, and she threw up a wall in the bond, blocking me from her. â€Å"What are you doing?' my other self asked. â€Å"Saving you,' said Lissa. â€Å"Saving myself.' She turned to Dr. Olendzki and Deirdre. â€Å"I understand what you have to do. It's okay. Take me to Tarasov. Take me where I won't hurt anyone else.' Tarasov. A place where real nightmares walked the halls. She braced herself as the office faded away, ready for the next part of the dream: a cold stone cell, with chains on the walls and people wailing down the halls†¦. But when the world put itself back together, there was no Tarasov. There was an empty room with an old woman and a silver chalice. Lissa looked around. Her heart was racing, and her sense of time was off. The things she'd seen had lasted an eternity. Yet, simultaneously, it felt like only a couple seconds had passed since she and the old woman had conversed. â€Å"What †¦ what was that?' asked Lissa. Her mouth was dry, and the water sounded good now †¦ but the chalice was empty. â€Å"Your fear,' said the old woman, eyes twinkling. â€Å"All your fears, laid out neatly in a row.' Lissa placed the chalice on the table with shaking hands. â€Å"It was awful. It was spirit, but it †¦ it wasn't anything I've seen before. It invaded my mind, rifling through it. It was so real. There were times I believed it was real.' â€Å"But you didn't stop it.' Lissa frowned, thinking of how close she had come. â€Å"No.' The old woman smiled and said nothing. â€Å"Am I †¦ am I done?' asked Lissa, confused. â€Å"Can I go?' The old woman nodded. Lissa stood and glanced between the two doors, the one she'd entered through and the plain one in the back. Still in shock, Lissa automatically turned toward the door she'd come through. She didn't really want to see those people lined up in the hall again but swore she'd put on a good princess face. Besides, there'd only been a fraction here compared to the group who'd greeted her after the last test. Her steps were halted when the old woman spoke again and pointed toward the back of the room. â€Å"No. That's for those who fail. You go out this door.' Lissa turned and approached the plain door. It looked like it led outdoors, which was probably just as well. Peace and quiet. She felt like she should say something to her companion but didn't know what. So, she simply turned the knob and stepped outside †¦ Into a crowd cheering for the dragon.