Thursday, September 19, 2019

Love :: essays research papers

In 1606 William Shakespeare, the Bard of Avon, wrote a play which would go down in history as the cursed Scottish play after numerous mishaps during production. It was written for his new patron, James I (James VI of Scotland), following the death of Queen Elizabeth. James was interested in witchcraft and Scotland, and hence the themes in the play. Banquo is James's ancestor. The play itself tells the story of a man, urged by his wife and foretold by prophecy, who commits regicide in order to gain power. Unfortunately, due to numerous quirks of language and obscure allusions, the play is difficult to understand without assistance. Using this annotated version along with external links and analysis, to more information, you can now get a better grasp of one the best tragedies ever written, the tale of Macbeth. Notes on reading this: The summaries, notes, and definitions are all stored in large files that serve you throughout the play. It is a good idea to let them load completely into your browser's cache the first time you access them, and from then on there will be a minimal de lay. Try reading through quickly, trying to get the gist and not dwelling on specific phrases. Then come back and use the annotation, as well as your knowledge of English and what is going on, to decipher the wit and depth of each line. Any differences in spelling of words between the glossary and the text are the result of version differences that pop up in various editions of Shakespeare's works and aren't important. You are encouraged to look up any words not defined here using the on-line dictionary, but please let us know so we can add them to our list of words as well.

Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Daniel Boone Book Report :: Biography Biographies Bio

Daniel Boone was born November 2, 1734 in a log cabin in Berks County, near Pennsylvania. Boone is one of the most famous pioneers in history. He spent most of his life exploring and settling the American frontier. Boone had little formal education, but he did learn the skills of a woodsmen early in life. By age 12 his hunting skill and skill with a rifle helped keep his family well provided with wild game. In 1756 Boone married Rebecca Bryan, a pioneer woman with great courage and patience. He spent most of the next ten years hunting and farming to feed his family. In 1769 a trader and old friend, John Findley, visited Boone's cabin. Findley was looking for an overland route to Kentucky and needed a skilled woodsman to guide him. In 1769 Boone, Findley and five men traveled along wilderness trails and through the Cumberland gap in the Appalachian mountains into Kentucky. They found a "hunter's paradise" filled with buffalo, deer, wild turkey and meadows ideal for farming. Boone vowed to return with his family one day. In 1775 Boone and 30 other woodsmen were hired to improve the trails between the Carolinas and the west. The resulting route reached into the heart of Kentucky and became known as the "Wilderness Road." That same year Boone built a fort and village called Booneborough in Kentucky, and moved his family over the Wilderness Trail to their new home. Boone had numerous encounters with the native people of Kentucky. In 1776 Shawnee warriors kidnapped his daughter and two other girls. Two days later Boone caught up with the Indians, and through surprise attack rescued the girls. In 1778 he was captured by another band of Shawnee. Boone learned that the tribe was planning an attack on Boonseborough. He negotiated a settlement with Chief Blackfish of the Shawnee, preventing the attack. The Indians admired their captive for his skill as a hunter and woodsman. Boone was adopted into their tribe as a son of Blackfish. When Boone learned the Shawne were planning another assault, he escaped to warn his people.

Tuesday, September 17, 2019

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis De Bernieres Essay

In Corelli’s Mandolin, a novel by Louis de Bernià ©res, minor characters Mandras and Carlo contribute to the complicated relationships between each of the characters. Each individual has an influence on the changing events in the novel and inflict change in the main characters. Though unalike, the two face similar struggles that impact other characters and events in both positive and negative ways. In the end, both minor characters have the same fate. Mandras and Carlo are two minor characters that have a significant impact on the events and other characters of the novel. Mandras is a fisherman who falls in love with Pelagia, but breaks their connection after he leaves for the war. The introduction of Mandras at the beginning of the novel is the start of change and alteration in the plot. He falls in love with Dr. Iannis’ daughter, Pelagia, the moment he lays eyes on her. â€Å"What he thanked Megalo Velicarios for what that in the doctor’s house he first set eyes on Pelagia, the doctor’s daughter.† (21) He inflicts a significant amount of change in Pelagia’s character by catching her attention, and he becomes her first love. Their relationship end as Mandras’s leaves for war, and Pelagia becomes a victim of misunderstanding. â€Å"Unfortunately, my dream of Pelagia was better than Pelagia herself. I can see and hear that she is disgusted with her returning hero, and I knew before I went that I was not good enough for her.† (141) Mandras discovers that he is an unworthy suitor for Pelagia, and he knows that their relationship has ended once she develops a fascination for Captain Antonio Corelli. Read more: Sport captain speech essay

Monday, September 16, 2019

Genesis Gonzalez

Genesis GonzalezApril 18, 2018DefenseAngelia Alam – Opening StatementMatthew Tem- ChemicalRthura Cevallos- MedicalMayra Reyes- GeologistOdorico SanNicolas- EpidemiologyGenesis Gonzalez & Riley Desmarais- Companies/expert witnessesLily K. – Closing StatementStatement of ChargeSchlichtmann charged W.R. Grace & Company, of New York, and Beatrice Foods Company, of Chicago, claiming both companies had contaminated two municipal wells in East Woburn. W.R. Grace & Company and Beatrice Foods Company are being charged individually for incorrectly disposing the following chemicals:Trichloroethylene (TCE) Tetrachloroethylene (PCE)1,1,1-trichloroethane (TCA)1,2-trans-dichloroethylene (DCE)Chloroform. W.R. Grace & Company and Beatrice Foods Company are both individually responsible for exposing the residents of Woburn, Massachusetts to the toxic amounts of chemicals and/or the dangerous illnesses, mental disease, and emotional sufferings brought about by the contamination of the water through chemicals in wells G and H. Some of the known causes of these exposing oneself to such chemicals are leukemia/ other cancers, damage to one's organs, neurological problems, disease, and even cardiac arrhythmias.Statement of ResponsibilityI, Genesis Gonzalez, am representing W.R. Grace ; Company along with Beatrice Foods Company. Both companies are being blamed by the plaintiffs for not properly disposing of the chemicals which were found in the wells, and they are charging us for their children becoming ill and acquiring leukemia. Neither of these companies had any involvement in the contamination of wells G and H, where the residents of Woburn received their water. Both W.R. Grace ; Company and Beatrice Foods Company followed all regulations which were required at the time of the incident. It seems the river was believed to be already contaminated before arriving to the wells, thus explaining why even though the companies' disposed chemicals into the river, leukemia did not come from either of the companies sources. There is no way the companies are to blame for the plaintiffs claims because they managed the wells not the water in those wells. Therefore, the chemicals that were used from W.R. Grace & Company and Beatrice Foods Company have no relation to the children of certain residents getting leukemia, as other members from my group have tried to state and prove. They need someone to blame for this series of unfortunate events and since W.R. Grace & Company and Beatrice Foods Company were local companies, they put the blame on them.Evidence for ArgumentW.R. Grace & Company and Beatrice Foods Company are being held responsible for the illness and resulting deaths of children of the residents in the Woburn, Massachusetts area due to the contamination of wells G and H which, according to the parents of the children, gave them leukemia. W.R. Grace & Company did dispose their waste in the river behind the plants each evening and even though it tested positive for Trichloroethylene, it could not have been the cause to the illness and death of the children. W.R. Grace & Company followed all regulations to the best of their ability in that time period to keep the company safe, and they did because the chemicals they disposed of, as displayed by our experts, cannot be found in leukemia. Wells G and H were not contaminated by the company's disposal of chemicals, but rather by the flow of the river water. We have reasons to believe the river water was contaminated before it reached wells G and H. Trichloroethylene could have been part of what created leukemia, however, it was not only Trichloroethylene, which is what the plaintiffs are arguing we disposed of incorrectly. It is stated in Woburn's City Hall that â€Å"Woburn's public water supply is over 125 years old, one of the oldest systems in the state. Development of the water supply system closely followed the growth of the city's population and industry.† This statement goes to show that the water supply in Woburn was old and could have been one of the reasons for it being contaminated which makes W.R. Grace & Company not to blame, but rather the government.Beatrice Foods Company purchased fifteen acres of land in the Woburn area where wells G and H belonged. The investigators found a dozen decaying barrels of waste that containedsome Trichloroethylene, but they were decaying because they were left for such a long period of time, leading to the conclusion that this could not have been a valid reason to charge Beatrice Foods Company. The decaying barrels were simply on the property Beatrice Foods Company owned, they did no damage to the river nor the wells. Hence, this charge is invalid towards this Beatrice Foods Company because the barrels were simply placed there and a photograph has proven the waste shown. â€Å"Historic aerial photographs of the site showed drums of waste present on the site as early as 1968.† This quote gives proof that Beatrice Foods Company had no way of contaminating wells G and H. Although Trichloroethylene was found in these barrels, as the other experts have already testified, Trichloroethylene alone could not have caused leukemia- it was the river which was contaminated with other chemicals which reacted to the Trichloroethylene. Since Beatrice Foods Company had the barrels on the side of their property it gave the wells more contact with the river. W.R. Grace & Company and Beatrice Foods Company are both excellent companies and would never intentionally do anything to result in the illness and/or death of a human being. Therefore having the plaintiffs accuse both of these companies for causing multiple illnesses and deaths for not correctly disposing of chemicals is wrong because it was not their fault. The plaintiffs saw this as an opportunity to put the blame on these big companies since they were neighboring the properties to wells G and H, along with the actions they took, but as has been proven, the disposal of the chemicals and the barrels could not have contaminated the wells. Both companies followed the regulations in place for the enhancement of a safe environment within and outside the company. No real identified harm came from the companies, it was simply an accusation to get retribution for the sickness and death of the Woburn children. The chemical, epidemiology, and medical experts, along with the geologist of this case have helped bring in evidence, along with my evidence, to display that Trichloroethylene had slight to zero ties towards leukemia, instead it was the river being alread y polluted when it reached wells G and H. How the chemicals were handled could not have caused leukemia. In the end, the government knew the people of Woburn would be drinking from wells G and H and had the responsibility to ensure the water being drank met the Federal Safe Water Drinking Act standards, making them to blame for allowing the wells to get exposed to whatever caused leukemia.References†Case Summary.† A Civil Action- The Woburn Toxic Trial. N.p., 14 Nov.2016. Web. 16 Apr. 2017. This reference was used in my paper to prove the actions taken against W.R. Grace & Company and Beatrice Foods Company and how the plaintiffs were wrong.Chesler, David.†Woburn's Water Supply.† Woburn's Water Supply: Clean and Safe. N.p., n.d. Web. 17 Apr. 2017. This reference showed it was neither W.R. Grace & Company nor Beatrice Foods Company's fault the children became sick then died, but rather the government's because they had the responsibility to ensure the safeness of the water since the public drinks from those wells.Myette, Charles F. â€Å"Excerpts from Area of Influence and Zone of Contribution to Superfund Site Wells G ; H Woburn, Massachusetts.† Beyond A Civil Action, U.S. Geological Survey Report. N.p.,01 Nov. 2006. Web. 16 Apr. 2017. This reference points out all of the chemicals found in the river that W.R. Grace & Company and Beatrice Foods Company had no relation, thus proving it was not their fault. It also claims leukemia could not have been caused just by this one chemical that the companies were.

Sunday, September 15, 2019

Emission Reduction Essay

In every economic activity, both positive and negative implications compound such activities. The positive implications include employment increase, supply of goods and market, supply of public goods, environmental control above others. However, every economic activity is as well a compound of negative implications. These are called negative externalities. They include pollution, environmental degrading, increase in crime, and social evils above others. Emission reduction like any other negative externality calls for a very dynamic tools of control. Generally, the basic control of negative externalities by corporations in the economy is through the government taxation imposition. The government would impose a corporate tax levy which is substantially equivalent to the cost of the emission to the environment. Through such levy, the government uses passive methods of compensation to the community over such impacts of the emission. Through the tax levy, the cost of operation to the plant is increased. (Prencipe, Davies, Hoboday, 2003) Economically, taxation provides two cost related variables with which the plant should choose from. Firstly, through higher cost of production which may perhaps outweigh its level of market profits, the plant may be forced out in the market. This is because high tax levy is synonymous to an increase in the cost of production. With high cost of production the plant is at a competitive disadvantage in the highly competitive market. It may then opt to choose an alternative method of investment. (Prencipe, Davies, Hoboday, 2003) Elsewhere, such tax is a disincentive in the choice of production method. From the broad alternative of energy production e. g. use of electric turbines to generate power. Use of environmental friendly method would then call up such tax levied formerly. The basic purpose of higher taxes by the government towards negative externalities is to provide a disincentive in specific lines and methods of operation which are harmful to the environment. It is a tool for choosing alternative methods of production.

Saturday, September 14, 2019

Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story Chapter 19~20

Chapter 19 Judy's Delicate Condition For the first few weeks Tommy was uncomfortable having a dead guy in the freezer, but after a while the dead guy became a fixture, a familiar frosty face with every TV dinner. Tommy named him Peary after another arctic explorer. During the day, after he came home from work and before he crawled into bed with Jody, Tommy puttered around the loft talking first to himself, then, when he became comfortable with the idea, to Peary. â€Å"You know, Peary,† Tommy said one morning after he had pounded out two pages of a short story on his typewriter, â€Å"I am having a little trouble finding my voice in this story. When I write about the little farm girl in Georgia walking barefoot to school on the dirt road, I sound like Harper Lee, but when I write about her poor father, unjustly sentenced to a chain gang for stealing bread for his family, I start to sound a little like Mark Twain. But when the little girl grows up to become a Mafia don, I'm falling into more of a Sydney Collins Krantz style. What should I do?† Peary, safe with his lid closed and his light off, did not answer. â€Å"And how am I supposed to concentrate on literature when I'm reading all these vampire books for Jody? She doesn't understand that a writer is a special creature – that I'm different from everyone else. I'm not saying I'm superior to other people, just more sensitive, I guess. And did you notice that she never does any of the shopping? What does she do all night while I'm at work?† Tommy was making an effort to understand Jody's situation, and had even devised a series of experiments from his reading to try and discover the limitations of her new situation. In the evening when they woke, after they shared a shower and a tumble or two, the scientific process would begin. â€Å"Go ahead, honey, give it a try,† Tommy said, shortly after he'd read Dracula. â€Å"I am trying,† Jody said. â€Å"I don't know what I'm supposed to try to do.† â€Å"Concentrate,† Tommy said. â€Å"Push.† â€Å"What do you mean, push? I'm not giving birth, Tommy. What am I supposed to push on?† â€Å"Try to grow fur. Try to make your arms change into wings.† Jody closed her eyes and concentrated – strained, even – and Tommy thought a little color came into her face. Finally she said, â€Å"This is ridiculous.† And it was determined that Jody could not turn into a bat. â€Å"Mist,† Tommy said. â€Å"Try to turn into mist. If you forget your key sometime, you can just ooze under the door to get in.† â€Å"It's not working.† â€Å"Keep trying. You know how your hair gathers in the shower drain? Well, if it gets clogged, you can just flow down there and dig out the clog.† â€Å"There's some motivation.† â€Å"Give it a try.† She tried and failed and the next day Tommy brought some Drano home from the store instead. â€Å"But I could take you to the park and throw a Frisbee for you.† â€Å"I know, but I can't.† â€Å"I'll buy you all kinds of chew toys – a squeaky duck if you want.† â€Å"I'm sorry, Tommy, but I can't turn into a wolf.† â€Å"In the book, Dracula climbs down the castle wall face down.† â€Å"Good for him.† â€Å"You could try it on our building. It's only three stories.† â€Å"That's still a long way to fall.† â€Å"You won't fall. He doesn't fall in the book.† â€Å"And he levitates in the book, doesn't he?† â€Å"Yeah.† â€Å"And we tried that, didn't we?† â€Å"Well, yeah.† â€Å"Then I'd say that the book is fiction, wouldn't you?† â€Å"Let's try something else; I'll get the list.† â€Å"Mind reading. Project your thoughts into my mind.† â€Å"Okay, I'm projecting. What am I thinking?† â€Å"I can tell by the look on your face.† â€Å"You might be wrong, what am I thinking?† â€Å"You'd like me to stop badgering you with these experiments.† â€Å"And?† â€Å"You want me to take our clothes to the Laundromat.† â€Å"And?† â€Å"That's all I'm getting.† â€Å"I want you to stop rubbing garlic on me while I'm sleeping.† â€Å"You can read thoughts!† â€Å"No, Tommy, but I woke up this evening smelling like a pizza joint. Stop it with the garlic.† â€Å"So you don't know about the crucifix?† â€Å"You touched me with a crucifix?† â€Å"You weren't in any danger. I had a fire extinguisher right there in case you burst into flames.† â€Å"I don't think it's very nice of you to experiment on me while I'm sleeping. How would you feel if I rubbed stuff on you while you were sleeping?† â€Å"Well, it depends. What are we talking about?† â€Å"Just don't touch me while I'm sleeping, okay? A relationship is based on mutual trust and respect.† â€Å"So I guess the mallet and the stake are out of the question?† â€Å"Tommy!† â€Å"Kmart had a sale on mallets. You were wondering if you were immortal. I wasn't going to try it without asking you.† â€Å"How long do you think it will take for you to forget what sex feels like?† â€Å"I'm sorry, Jody. Really, I am.† The question of immortality did, indeed, bother Jody. The old vampire had said that she could be killed, but it was not the sort of thing that you could easily test. It was Tommy, of course, after a long talk with Peary while trying to avoid working on his little Southern-girl story one morning, who came up with the test. Jody awoke one evening to find him in the bathroom emptying ice cubes out of a tray into the big claw-foot tub. He said, â€Å"I was a lifeguard one summer in high school.† â€Å"So?† â€Å"I had to learn CPR. I spent half the summer pumping pissy pool water out of exhausted nine-year-olds.† â€Å"So?† â€Å"Drowning.† â€Å"Drowning?† â€Å"Yeah, we drown you. If you're immortal, you'll be fine. If not, the cold water will keep you fresh and I can revive you. There's about thirty more trays of ice stacked up on Peary. Could you grab some?† â€Å"Tommy, I'm not sure about this.† â€Å"You want to know, don't you?† â€Å"But a tub of ice water?† â€Å"I've run all the possibilities down – guns, knives, an injection of potassium nitrate – this is the only one that can fail and not really kill you. I know you want to know, but I don't want to lose you to find out.† Jody, in spite of herself, was touched. â€Å"That's the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me.† â€Å"Well, you wouldn't want to kill me, would you?† Tommy was a little concerned about the fact that Jody had been feeding on him every four days. Not that he felt sick or weak; on the contrary, he found that each time she bit him he was energized, stronger, it seemed. He was throwing twice as much stock at the store and his mind seemed sharper, more alert. He was making good progress on his story. He was starting to look forward to being bitten. â€Å"Come on then,† he said. â€Å"In the tub.† Jody was wearing a silk nighty that she let drop to the floor. â€Å"You're sure if this doesn't work†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"You'll be fine.† She took his hand. â€Å"I'm trusting you.† â€Å"I know. Get in.† Jody stepped into the cold water. â€Å"Brisk,† she said. â€Å"I didn't think you could feel it.† â€Å"I can feel temperature changes, but they don't bother me.† â€Å"We'll experiment on that next. Under you go.† Jody lay down in the tub, her hair spread across the water like crimson kelp. Tommy checked his watch. â€Å"After you go under, don't hold your breath. It's going to be hard, but suck the water into your lungs. I'll leave you under for four minutes, then pull you out.† Jody took deep breaths and looked at him, a glint of panic in her eyes. He bent and kissed her. â€Å"I love you,† he said. â€Å"You do?† â€Å"Of course.† He pushed her head under the water. She bobbed back up. â€Å"Me too,† she said. Then she went under. She tried to make herself take in the water but her lungs wouldn't let her and she held her breath. Four minutes later Tommy reached under her arms and pulled her up. â€Å"I didn't do it,† she said. â€Å"Christ, Jody, I can't keep doing this.† â€Å"I held my breath.† â€Å"For four minutes?† â€Å"I think I could have gone hours.† â€Å"Try again. You've got to inhale the water or you'll never die.† â€Å"Thanks, coach.† â€Å"Please.† She slipped under the water and sucked in a breath of water before she could think about it. She listened to the ice cubes tinkling on the surface, watched the bathroom light refracting through the water, occasionally interrupted by Tommy's face as he looked down on her. There was no panic, no choking – she didn't even feel the claustrophobia that she had expected. Actually, it was kind of pleasant. Tommy pulled her up and she expelled a great cough of water, then began breathing normally. â€Å"Are you okay?† â€Å"Fine.† â€Å"You really did drown.† â€Å"It wasn't that bad.† â€Å"Try it again.† This time Tommy left her under for ten minutes before pulling her up. After the cough, she said, â€Å"I guess that's it.† â€Å"Did you see the long tunnel with the light at the end? All your dead relatives waiting? The fiery gates of hell?† â€Å"Nope, just ice cubes.† Tommy turned around and sat down hard on the bathroom rug with his back to the tub. â€Å"I feel like I was the one that got drowned.† â€Å"I feel great.† â€Å"That's it, you know. You are immortal.† â€Å"I guess so. As far as we can test it. Can I get out of the tub now?† â€Å"Sure.† He handed her a towel over his shoulder. â€Å"Jody, are you going to leave me when I get old?† â€Å"You're nineteen years old.† â€Å"Yeah, but next year I'll be twenty, then twenty-one; then I'll be eating strained green beans and drooling all over myself and asking you what your name is every five seconds and you'll be twenty-six and perky and you'll resent me every time you have to change my incontinence pants.† â€Å"That's a cheery thought.† â€Å"Well, you will resent it, won't you?† â€Å"Aren't you jumping the gun a little? You have great bladder control; I've seen you drink six beers without going to the bathroom.† â€Å"Sure, now, but†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Look, Tommy, could you look at this from my point of view? This is the first time I've had to really think about this as well. Do you realize that I'll never have blue hair and walk with tiny little steps? I'll never drive really slow all the time and spend hours complaining about my ailments. I'll never go to Denny's and steal all the extra jelly packets and squirrel them away in a giant handbag.† Tommy looked up at her. â€Å"You were looking forward to those things?† â€Å"That's not the point, Tommy. I might be immortal, but I've lost a big part of my life. Like French fries. I miss eating French fries. I'm Irish, you know. Ever since the Great Potato Famine my people get nervous if they don't eat French fries every few days. Did you ever think about that?† â€Å"No, I guess I didn't.† â€Å"I don't even know what I am. I don't know why I'm here. I was made by some mystery creature and I don't have the slightest idea why, or what he wants from me, or what I am supposed to be doing. Only that he's messing with my life in ways I can't understand. Do you have any idea what that is like?† â€Å"Actually, I know exactly what that's like.† â€Å"You do?† â€Å"Of course, everybody does. By the way, the Emperor told me that they found another body today. In a Laundromat in the Tenderloin. Broken neck and no blood.† Chapter 20 Angel If Inspector Alphonse Rivera had been a bird, he would have been a crow. He was lean and dark, with slick, sharp features and black eyes that shone and shifted with suspicion and guile. Time and again his crowlike looks landed him in the undercover role of coke dealer. Sometimes Cuban, sometimes Mexican, and one time Colombian, he had driven more Mercedes and worn more Armani suits than most real drug dealers, but after twenty years in narcotics, on three different departments, he had transferred to homicide, claiming that he needed to work among a better class of people – namely, dead. Oh, the joys of homicide! Simple crimes of passion, most solved within twenty-four hours or not at all. No stings, no suitcases of government money, no pretense, just simple deduction – sometimes very simple: a dead wife in the kitchen; a drunken husband standing in the foyer with a smoking thirty-eight; and Rivera, in his cheap Italian knock-off suit, gently disarming the new widower, who could only say, â€Å"Liver and onions.† A body, a suspect, a weapon, and a motive: case solved and on to the next one, neat and tidy. Until now. Rivera thought, If my luck could be bottled, it would be classified a chemical weapon. He read through the coroner's report again. â€Å"Cause of death: compression fracture of the fifth and sixth vertebrae (broken neck). Subject had lost massive amounts of blood – no visible wounds.† On its own, it was a uniquely enigmatic report, but it wasn't on its own. It was the second body in a month that had sustained massive blood loss with no visible wounds. Rivera looked across the desk to where his partner, Nick Cavuto, was reading a copy of the report. â€Å"What do you think?† Rivera said. Cavuto chewed on an unlit cigar. He was a burly and balding, gravel-voiced, third-generation cop – six degrees tougher than his father and grandfather had been because he was gay. He said, â€Å"I think if you have any vacation time coming, this would be the time to take it.† â€Å"So we're fucked.† â€Å"It's too early for us to be fucked. I'd say we've been taken to dinner and slipped the tongue on the good-night kiss.† Rivera smiled. He liked the way Cavuto tried to make everything sound like dialogue from a Bogart movie. The big detective's pride and joy was a complete set of signed first-edition Dashiell Hammett novels. â€Å"Give me the days when police work was done with a snub nose and a lead sap,† Cavuto would say. â€Å"Computers are for pussies.† Rivera returned to the report. â€Å"It looks like this guy would have been dead in a month anyway: ‘a ten-centimeter tumor on the liver. Malignancy the size of a grapefruit.† Cavuto shifted the cigar to the other side of his mouth. â€Å"The old broad at the Van Ness Motel was on her way out too. Congestive heart disease. Too weak for a bypass. She ate nitro pills like they were M&M's.† â€Å"The euthanasia killer,† Rivera said. â€Å"So we're assuming this was the same guy?† â€Å"Whatever you say, Nick.† â€Å"Two killings with the same MO and no motive. I don't even like the sound of it.† Cavuto rubbed his temples as if trying to milk anxiety out through his tear ducts. â€Å"You were in San Junipero during the Night Stalker killings. We couldn't take a piss without tripping over a reporter. I say we lock this down. As far as the papers are concerned, the victims were robbed. No connection.† Rivera nodded. â€Å"I need a smoke. Let's go talk to those guys that got hit at the Laundromat a couple of weeks ago. Maybe there's a connection.† Cavuto pushed himself out of the chair and grabbed his hat off the desk. â€Å"Whoever voted for nonsmoking in the station house should be pistol-whipped.† â€Å"Didn't the President sponsor that bill?† â€Å"All the more reason. The pussy.† Tommy lay looking at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath and extricate his right foot from a hopeless tangle in the sheets. Jody was drawing a tic-tac-toe in the sweat on his chest with her finger. â€Å"You don't sweat anymore, do you?† he asked. â€Å"Don't seem to.† â€Å"And you're not even out of breath. Am I doing something wrong?† â€Å"No, it was great. I only get breathless when†¦ when I†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"When you bite me.† â€Å"Yeah.† â€Å"Did you†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"Are you sure?† â€Å"Are you?† â€Å"No, I faked.† Tommy grinned. â€Å"Really?† Jody looked at the wet spot (on her side, of course). â€Å"Why do you think I'm so winded? It's not easy to fake the ejaculation part.† â€Å"I, for one, was fooled.† â€Å"See.† He reached down and unwrapped the sheet from his foot, then he lay back and stared at the ceiling. Jody began to twist the sweaty locks of his hair into horns. â€Å"Jody,† Tommy said tentatively. â€Å"Hmmm?† â€Å"When I get old, I mean, if we're still together†¦Ã¢â‚¬  She yanked on his hair. â€Å"Ouch. Okay, we'll still be together. Have you ever heard of satyriasis?† â€Å"No.† â€Å"Well, it happens to real old guys. They run around with a perpetual hard-on, chasing teenage girls and humping anything that moves until they have to be put in restraints.† â€Å"Wow, interesting disease.† â€Å"Yeah, well, when I get old, if I start to show the symptoms†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Yeah?† â€Å"Just let it run its course, okay?† â€Å"I'll look forward to it.† Rivera held a plastic cup of orange juice for the mass of plaster and tubes that was LaOtis Small. LaOtis sipped from the straw, then pushed it away with his tongue. The body cast ran from below his knees to the top of his head, with holes for his face and outgoing tubes. Cavuto stood by the hospital bed taking notes. â€Å"So you and your friends were doing laundry when an unarmed, redheaded woman attacked you and put all three of you in the hospital? Right?† â€Å"She was a ninja, man. I know. I get the kick-boxing channel on cable.† Cavuto chomped an unlit cigar. â€Å"Your friend James says that she was six-four and weighed two hundred pounds.† â€Å"No, man, she was five-five, five-six.† â€Å"Your other buddy† – Cavuto checked his notepad for the name – â€Å"Kid Jay, said that it was a gang of Mexicans.† â€Å"No, man, he dreamin'; it was one ninja bitch.† â€Å"A five-and-a-half-foot woman put the three of you big strong guys in the hospital?† â€Å"Yeah. We was just mindin' our own bidness. She come in and axed for some change. James tell her no, he got to put a load in the dryer, and she go fifty-one-fifty on him. She a ninja.† â€Å"Thank you, LaOtis, you've been very helpful.† Cavuto shot Rivera a look and they left the hospital room. In the hallway Rivera said, â€Å"So we're looking for a gang of redheaded, ninja Mexicans.† Cavuto said, â€Å"You think there's a molecule of truth in any of that?† â€Å"They were all unconscious when they were brought in, and obviously they haven't tried to match up their stories. So if you throw out everything that doesn't match, you end up with a woman with long red hair.† â€Å"You think a woman could do that to them and manage to snap the neck of two other people without a struggle?† â€Å"Not a chance,† Rivera said. His beeper went off and he checked the number. â€Å"I'll call in.† Cavuto pulled up. â€Å"Go ahead, I'm going back in to talk to LaOtis. Meet me outside emergency.† â€Å"Take it easy, Nick, the guy's in a body cast.† Cavuto grinned. â€Å"Kind'a erotic, ain't it?† He turned and lumbered back toward LaOtis Small's room. Jody walked Tommy up to Market Street, watched him eat a burger and fries, and put him on the 42 bus to work. Killing the time while Tommy worked was becoming tedious. She tried to stay in the loft, watched the late-night talk shows and old movies on cable, read magazines, and did a little cleaning, but by two in the morning the caged-cat feeling came over her and she went out to wander the streets. Sometimes she walked Market among the street people and the convention crowds, other times she took a bus to North Beach and hung out on Broadway watching the sailors and the punks stagger, drunk and stoned, or the hookers and the hustlers running their games. It was on these crowded streets that she felt most lonely. Time and again she wanted to turn to someone and point out a unique heat pattern or the dark aura she sensed around the sick; like a child sharing the cloud animals flying through a summer sky. But no one else could see what she saw, no one heard the whispered propositions, the pointed refusals, or the rustle of money exchanging hands in alleys and doorways. Other times she crept through the back streets and listened to the symphony of noises that no one else heard, smelled the spectrum of odors that had long ago exhausted her vocabulary. Each night there were more nameless sights and smells and sounds, and they came so fast and subtle that she eventually gave up trying to name them. She thought, This is what it is to be an animal. Just experience – direct, instant, and wordless; memory and recognition, but no words. A poet with my senses could spend a lifetime trying to describe what it is to hear a building breathe and smell the aging of concrete. And for what? Why write a song when no one can play the notes or understand the lyrics? I'm alone. Cavuto came through the double doors of the emergency room and joined Rivera, who was standing by the brown, City-issue Ford smoking a cigarette. â€Å"What was the call?† Cavuto asked. â€Å"We got another one. Broken neck. South of Market. Elderly male.† â€Å"Fuck,† Cavuto said, yanking open the car door. â€Å"What about blood loss?† â€Å"They don't know yet. This one's still warm.† Rivera flipped his cigarette butt into the parking lot and climbed into the car. â€Å"You get anything more out of LaOtis?† â€Å"Nothing important. They weren't doing their laundry, they went in looking for the girl, but he's sticking with the ninja story.† River started the car and looked at Cavuto. â€Å"You didn't rough him up?† Cavuto pulled a Cross pen out of his shirt pocket and held it up. â€Å"Mightier than the sword.† Rivera cringed at the thought of what Cavuto might have done to LaOtis with the pen. â€Å"You didn't leave any marks, did you?† â€Å"Lots,† Cavuto grinned. â€Å"Nick, you can't do that kind of – â€Å" â€Å"Relax,† Cavuto interrupted. â€Å"I just wrote, ‘Thanks for all the information; I'm sure we'll get some convictions out of this, on his cast. Then I signed it and told him that I wouldn't scratch it out until he told me the truth.† â€Å"Did you scratch it out?† â€Å"Nope.† â€Å"If his friends see it, they'll kill him.† â€Å"Fuck him,† Cavuto said. â€Å"Ninja redheads, my ass.† Four in the morning. Jody watched neon beer signs buzzing color across the dew-damp sidewalks of Polk Street. The street was deserted, so she played sensory games to amuse herself – closing her eyes and listening to the soft scratch of her sneakers echoing off the buildings as she walked. If she concentrated, she could walk several blocks without looking, listening for the streetlight switches at the corners and feeling the subtle changes in wind currents at the cross streets. When she felt she was going to run into something, she could shuffle her feet and the sound would form a rough image in her mind of the walls and poles and wires around her. If she stood quietly, she could reach out and form a map of the whole City in her head – sounds drew the lines, and smells filled in the colors. She was listening to the fishing boats idling at the wharf a mile away when she heard footsteps and opened her eyes. A single figure had rounded the corner a couple of blocks ahead of her and was walking, head down, up Polk. She stepped into the doorway of a closed Russian restaurant and watched him. Sadness came off him in black waves. His name was Philip. His friends called him Philly. He was twenty-three. He had grown up in Georgia and had run away to the City when he was sixteen so he wouldn't have to pretend to be something he was not. He had run away to the City to find love. After the one-night stands with rich older men, after the bars and the bathhouses, after finding out that he wasn't a freak, that there were other people just like him, after the last of the confusion and shame had settled like red Georgia dust, he'd found love. He'd lived with his lover in a studio in the Castro district. And in that studio, sitting on the edge of a rented hospital bed, he had filled a syringe with morphine and injected it into his lover and held his hand while he died. Later, he cleared away the bed pans and the IV stand and the machine that he used to suck the fluid out of his lover's lungs and he threw them in the trash. The doctor said to hold on to them – that he would need them. They buried Philly's lover in the morning and they took the embroidered square of fabric that was draped on the casket and folded it and handed it to him like the flag to a war widow. He got to keep it for a while before it was added to the quilt. He had it in his pocket now. His hair was gone from the chemotherapy. His lungs hurt, and his feet hurt; the sarcomas that spotted his body were worst on his feet and his face. His joints ached and he couldn't keep his food down, but he could still walk. So he walked. He walked up Polk Street, head down, at four in the morning, because he could. He could still walk. When he reached the doorway of a Russian restaurant, Jody stepped out in front of him and he stopped and looked at her. Somewhere, way down deep, he found that there was a smile left. â€Å"Are you the Angel of Death?† he asked. â€Å"Yes,† she said. â€Å"It's good to see you,† Philly said. She held her arms out to him.

Aristotle s Philosophy On Ethics Essay -- Ethics, Philosophy, Categoric

Aristotle is a strong believer that reaching happiness is the ultimate goal of humans. He says, â€Å"Another belief which harmonizes with our account is that the happy man lives well and does well; for we have practically defined happiness as a sort of good life and good action. The characteristics that are looked for in happiness seem also, all of them, to belong to what we have defined happiness as being† (Aristotle, Book I). Aristotle claims that a happy person lives well and that is what we should be striving for. We reach this happiness by doing good actions and it can take an entire lifetime to become virtuous. He also relates good actions to doing an activity well. Doing an activity well is important because after mastering an art you feel good about yourself or happy. For example, if you are a potter and you make a great pot, you feel happy. Kant poses the complete opposite of Aristotle’s philosophy and disregards happiness with being moral. Kant does not believe reaching happiness is the main goal of life, but instead doing good with a sense of duty is. Kant says, â€Å"A good will is good not because of what it effects or accomplishes†¦ it is good only throug... ... middle of paper ... ...nted to spread the knowledge, they are acting out of inclination instead of from duty. Aristotle and Kant propose very different philosophies. Aristotle is concerned with reaching happiness as to become a virtuous person. We are happy by doing good actions and mastering certain tasks. But happiness should not be the goal of humans to be virtuous because it possesses too many flaws as to what happiness really is. Kant offers a more concrete philosophy to being virtuous. He believes in following categorical imperatives or universal laws to doing what right. Doing right comes from a duty to do right and not from an inclination or desire to right. Since Kant exhibits a more concrete philosophy as to why do good, it would work a lot better in an ideal world. It would be very difficult for both philosophies to work in the real world because many questions can be raised.