Synthesis of Tavris, Goodman, and Underwood :: Culture Sex Cultural Essays

Synthesis of Tavris, Goodman, and Underwood We’ve all been in a situation where we’ve been unknowingly manipulated by a group of people. It’s human nature to follow. Often times, for instance a gang shooting or the Holocaust in the 1940s, the outcome of blind following reminds that human nature can be atrocious. But do you think every German Nazi who contributed to the mass murders was an evil person? No, most were lead to believe that they were doing a good thing. Hitler was a powerful orator who convinced millions of people to support him. Why should anyone have thought something was wrong if there were millions of people who thought it was just fine? Hollywood is almost as evil and just as persuasive as Hitler was; and when an individual becomes a fraction of any group whether it be Hollywood’s audience or a collection of colleagues, the individual’s plight to remain at hand, is almost always defeated. In Tavris’ (2002) essay she explains why she thinks people act differently alone than in a group. She uses the examples of Kitty Genovese and Rodney King to illustrate that people are not willing to be courageous among other people. She claims that it is not the individual’s fault, but that is the ‘nature of groups’ that leave the individual barren of their usually present morals. We don’t want to wrongly intervene to spare our ego,, or we diffuse the responsibility on others who are around us assuming that another has already taken the initiative. She recommends that people inform themselves of the anomaly of what she calls â€Å"group-think† in hopes that education will empower them; even if they’re in a group. In Goodman’s (2002) Essay ‘Countering the Culture of Sex’ she discusses the common topic of the effects of sex in the media. She asserts that it isn’t enough to blame the media. W should transform the problem into the solution by having Hollywood realistically portray the aftermath of sexual encounters. By doing this, she hopes, will reduce the amount of teenage pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases. Teenagers should be more aware of the consequences and less enamored with the romanticized image of sex; Goodman believes Hollywood is the answer. Using the example of Kitty Genovese, the woman who was witnessed being stabbed to death by a whole apartment building, Tavris (2002) says â€Å"Something happens to individuals when they collect in a group.

Black Boy Essay

Most African American families in the South were lower class and committed dangerous acts to survive, â€Å"Richard suffered poverty and hunger experiences that later became themes of his work†. He would have to wait a long period of time before food was available for him, â€Å"You’ll have to wait till I get a job to buy food†. The lower class did desperate things to get money â€Å"Richard sneak into saloons and begs for pennies and drinks†. Many African Americans suffered horribly from poverty, â€Å"My mothers’ suffering grew into a symbol, gathering to itself all the poverty, the ignorance, the helplessness, the pain, hunger ridden days and hours†. The Jim Crow South brought many adversities for Blacks and poverty was a major part of that. Poverty not only took away the physical things in their lives, but also it took away from their internal selves as human beings. The things they had in their lives that they were deprived of, did not mean as much to them as losing who they are as a person, â€Å"I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of the hunger of life that gnaws in us all, to keep alive in our hearts a sense of the inexpressibly human†. Racism in the Jim Crow South was brutal, unnecessary, and in some cases fatal. Racism in the United States South was a major theme, and impacted the life of Richard both in a positive and negative way. The only positive aspect of it was that he and many other African Americans overcame it and helped them become better people. In most cases racism affected lives in a negative way. Most African Americans were both physically and mentally pushed to their limit and caused permanent scars in their lives, â€Å"Having been thrust out of the world because of my race, I had accepted my destiny by not being curious about what shaped it†, The quote by Richard shows the racism was present and unfair, you can still move on and not let it be damaging to your daily lives and emotions. Richard experienced many abusive events resulting from racism, â€Å"He experienced some of the most severe abuses of racial oppression in Mississippi†. African Americans have the theory that White people are dangerous and not to be trusted, â€Å"the Jim Crow South was a system of racial segregation practiced in some states of the US, and it gave whites a reason to treat Blacks as second class citizens†. Richard falls into a category of Black youth who fears the White community and has a hard time interacting with them, â€Å"Richard feels psychological tension around Whites†. The major reason why Richard is a part of the Great Migration and fled North is because of racism. The segregation Blacks had to deal with also took away many educational opportunities, â€Å"No education could alter what the meaning of living, came only when one was struggling†. Racism took away many privileges and rights away from Blacks. Many African Americans in the South moved north for better opportunities, and this vast moment was known as the Great Migration. It was hard for many African Americans to leave the South because that was the only life they knew, â€Å"Nine out of ten African Americans lived in the American South in 1900, by 1930, 3 in 10 lived outside the house†. Richard Wrights’ Black Boy shows how racism destroyed the lives of many African Americans, but for some it did just the opposite, as for Richard it drove him to be the successful writer he is today. Violence affected African American youth in a negative way, and it varied how they let it affect the rest of their lives. Poverty took a major toll on the lives of African Americans during the Jim Crow South system, and affected the majority in an unconstructive way. Racism made a huge impact on the lives of the Blacks because it affected their emotions, physicality, home life, and way of being. For some, racism lead to death or completely ruined their lives, but others took the hardship of racism and went with it in the opposite direction. Richard Wright, once a trouble African American boy, now a flourishing writer.

A Brief History of the Chinese in the Philippine Essay

According to The History of the Sung Dynasty or Sung Shi, published in 1343-1374, China already had trade relations with the people in the Philippines as early as the tenth century (AD 982) (Miclat, 2000). By the time of the Sung Dynasty (860-1127), Chinese colonies were already founded in some towns by the coast. During the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) , colonies were already found in the hinterlands (Agoncillo, 1990). When the Spanish arrived in Manila in 1571 the resident population of Chinese in the area was around one hundred and fifty. Many of them were traders in Chinese merchant ships. The Chinese said they were seng-li (or xang lai), which meant â€Å"we are traders† (Gardner). The Spanish eventually called them Sangley, which is derived from the Hokkien word seng-di or seng-li meaning â€Å"business† (Mempin, 2009). The Chinese established themselves near Spanish communities, taking on important roles as food providers, retail traders and artisans. The Spanish soon became dependent on the Chinese economically; after all, they provided many of the goods shipped to Europe through Mexico by the Manila galleon trade . However, because of cultural differences, there were also mutual feelings of distrust. There came a time when the population of Chinese outnumbered the Spanish, who were afraid that they would revolt (Wickberg, 1964). Because of this, in 1582, the Spanish required the Chinese to live in a walled compound called the Parian, which soon became the commercial center of the area (Gardner). By the sixteenth century, there was a royal order for all Chinese to be expelled from the Philippines and the Parian , evacuated. However, Governor Dasmarinas knew that the City of Manila, which was the largest Spanish settlement, were dependent on the Chinese for economic services. Governor Dasmarinas bought some land across the river from the walled city of Intramuros and turned it over to a group of known Chinese merchants and artisans, for the purpose of creating a new Chinese settlement. The intention was to formally obey the royal order, while at the same time, making sure that the Chinese would continue to provide good and services for the Spanish. The land grant was tax-free and given in perpetuity. This settlement came to be known as Binondo. In the beginning, there were no religious or cultural issues involved, but when the Spanish Dominican priests were assigned to Binondo, they turned it into a community of married Catholic Chinese and their. By the year 1600, the population was around five hundred or more, and the first generation of mestizos (mixed Chinese-native ancestry) had appeared (Wickberg, 1964). In time, Binondo came to be known as the community of Chinese and Chinese mestizos who had been baptized and converted to Catholicism, and Parian was where the n0n-Catholic Chinese lived. In the nineteenth century, there was a mass emigration of Chinese into other parts of the world as a result of wars, starvation, corruption and civil unrest in mainland China. This was called the â€Å"Chinese Diaspora†. Most of these Chinese who went overseas came from maritime provinces like Fujian, Guangdong and Hainan (Overseas Chinese, 2008). In the Philippines, most of the Chinese who immigrated in the second half of the nineteenth century came from Fujian on the southeastern coast of China (Dolan, 1991). One of these sub-provinces of Fujian is Xiamen, also commonly known as Amoy. The term Amoy became known when Xiamen became a treaty port after the 1st Opium War (1839-42), and is thought to have come from the island’s name â€Å"Ah Mo† in the local dialect (Brown, 2007). In those days, it was common for newly baptized Chinese immigrants to incorporate his baptismal sponsor’s name after his own. Let us take, for instance, the case of Don Pedro Gotiaco who is the ancestor of today’s wealthy Gokongwei clan. When he was baptized, Don Pedro’s baptismal sponsor was Don Mariano Singson, from a well-known mestizo family. Don Pedro incorporated his sponsor’s name into his own, which was commonly done those days. The sponsor or â€Å"padrino† was considered a necessary protector for a new immigrant like Don Pedro.

Angels Demons Chapter 89-92

89 War had broken out in St. Peter's Square. The piazza had exploded into a frenzy of aggression. Media trucks skidded into place like assault vehicles claiming beachheads. Reporters unfurled high-tech electronics like soldiers arming for battle. All around the perimeter of the square, networks jockeyed for position as they raced to erect the newest weapon in media wars – flat-screen displays. Flat-screen displays were enormous video screens that could be assembled on top of trucks or portable scaffolding. The screens served as a kind of billboard advertisement for the network, broadcasting that network's coverage and corporate logo like a drive-in movie. If a screen were well-situated – in front of the action, for example – a competing network could not shoot the story without including an advertisement for their competitor. The square was quickly becoming not only a multimedia extravaganza, but a frenzied public vigil. Onlookers poured in from all directions. Open space in the usually limitless square was fast becoming a valuable commodity. People clustered around the towering flat-screen displays, listening to live reports in stunned excitement. Only a hundred yards away, inside the thick walls of St. Peter's Basilica, the world was serene. Lieutenant Chartrand and three other guards moved through the darkness. Wearing their infrared goggles, they fanned out across the nave, swinging their detectors before them. The search of Vatican City's public access areas so far had yielded nothing. â€Å"Better remove your goggles up here,† the senior guard said. Chartrand was already doing it. They were nearing the Niche of the Palliums – the sunken area in the center of the basilica. It was lit by ninety-nine oil lamps, and the amplified infrared would have seared their eyes. Chartrand enjoyed being out of the heavy goggles, and he stretched his neck as they descended into the sunken niche to scan the area. The room was beautiful†¦ golden and glowing. He had not been down here yet. It seemed every day since Chartrand had arrived in Vatican City he had learned some new Vatican mystery. These oil lamps were one of them. There were exactly ninety-nine lamps burning at all times. It was tradition. The clergy vigilantly refilled the lamps with sacred oils such that no lamp ever burned out. It was said they would burn until the end of time. Or at least until midnight, Chartrand thought, feeling his mouth go dry again. Chartrand swung his detector over the oil lamps. Nothing hidden in here. He was not surprised; the canister, according to the video feed, was hidden in a dark area. As he moved across the niche, he came to a bulkhead grate covering a hole in the floor. The hole led to a steep and narrow stairway that went straight down. He had heard stories about what lay down there. Thankfully, they would not have to descend. Rocher's orders were clear. Search only the public access areas; ignore the white zones. â€Å"What's that smell?† he asked, turning away from the grate. The niche smelled intoxicatingly sweet. â€Å"Fumes from the lamps,† one of them replied. Chartrand was surprised. â€Å"Smells more like cologne than kerosene.† â€Å"It's not kerosene. These lamps are close to the papal altar, so they take a special, ambiental mixture – ethanol, sugar, butane, and perfume.† â€Å"Butane?† Chartrand eyed the lamps uneasily. The guard nodded. â€Å"Don't spill any. Smells like heaven, but burns like hell.† The guards had completed searching the Niche of the Palliums and were moving across the basilica again when their walkie-talkies went off. It was an update. The guards listened in shock. Apparently there were troubling new developments, which could not be shared on-air, but the camerlegno had decided to break tradition and enter conclave to address the cardinals. Never before in history had this been done. Then again, Chartrand realized, never before in history had the Vatican been sitting on what amounted to some sort of neoteric nuclear warhead. Chartrand felt comforted to know the camerlegno was taking control. The camerlegno was the person inside Vatican City for whom Chartrand held the most respect. Some of the guards thought of the camerlegno as a beato – a religious zealot whose love of God bordered on obsession – but even they agreed†¦ when it came to fighting the enemies of God, the camerlegno was the one man who would stand up and play hardball. The Swiss Guards had seen a lot of the camerlegno this week in preparation for conclave, and everyone had commented that the man seemed a bit rough around the edges, his verdant eyes a bit more intense than usual. Not surprisingly, they had all commented; not only was the camerlegno responsible for planning the sacred conclave, but he had to do it immediately on the heels of the loss of his mentor, the Pope. Chartrand had only been at the Vatican a few months when he heard the story of the bomb that blew up the camerlegno's mother before the kid's very eyes. A bomb in church†¦ and now it's happening all over again. Sadly, the authorities never caught the bastards who planted the bomb†¦ probably some anti-Christian hate group they said, and the case faded away. No wonder the camerlegno despised apathy. A couple months back, on a peaceful afternoon inside Vatican City, Chartrand had bumped into the camerlegno coming across the grounds. The camerlegno had apparently recognized Chartrand as a new guard and invited him to accompany him on a stroll. They had talked about nothing in particular, and the camerlegno made Chartrand feel immediately at home. â€Å"Father,† Chartrand said, â€Å"may I ask you a strange question?† The camerlegno smiled. â€Å"Only if I may give you a strange answer.† Chartrand laughed. â€Å"I have asked every priest I know, and I still don't understand.† â€Å"What troubles you?† The camerlegno led the way in short, quick strides, his frock kicking out in front of him as he walked. His black, crepe-sole shoes seemed befitting, Chartrand thought, like reflections of the man's essence†¦ modern but humble, and showing signs of wear. Chartrand took a deep breath. â€Å"I don't understand this omnipotent-benevolent thing.† The camerlegno smiled. â€Å"You've been reading Scripture.† â€Å"I try.† â€Å"You are confused because the Bible describes God as an omnipotent and benevolent deity.† â€Å"Exactly.† â€Å"Omnipotent-benevolent simply means that God is all-powerful and well-meaning.† â€Å"I understand the concept. It's just†¦ there seems to be a contradiction.† â€Å"Yes. The contradiction is pain. Man's starvation, war, sickness†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Exactly!† Chartrand knew the camerlegno would understand. â€Å"Terrible things happen in this world. Human tragedy seems like proof that God could not possibly be both all-powerful and well-meaning. If He loves us and has the power to change our situation, He would prevent our pain, wouldn't He?† The camerlegno frowned. â€Å"Would He?† Chartrand felt uneasy. Had he overstepped his bounds? Was this one of those religious questions you just didn't ask? â€Å"Well†¦ if God loves us, and He can protect us, He would have to. It seems He is either omnipotent and uncaring, or benevolent and powerless to help.† â€Å"Do you have children, Lieutenant?† Chartrand flushed. â€Å"No, signore.† â€Å"Imagine you had an eight-year-old son†¦ would you love him?† â€Å"Of course.† â€Å"Would you do everything in your power to prevent pain in his life?† â€Å"Of course.† â€Å"Would you let him skateboard?† Chartrand did a double take. The camerlegno always seemed oddly â€Å"in touch† for a clergyman. â€Å"Yeah, I guess,† Chartrand said. â€Å"Sure, I'd let him skateboard, but I'd tell him to be careful.† â€Å"So as this child's father, you would give him some basic, good advice and then let him go off and make his own mistakes?† â€Å"I wouldn't run behind him and mollycoddle him if that's what you mean.† â€Å"But what if he fell and skinned his knee?† â€Å"He would learn to be more careful.† The camerlegno smiled. â€Å"So although you have the power to interfere and prevent your child's pain, you would choose to show your love by letting him learn his own lessons?† â€Å"Of course. Pain is part of growing up. It's how we learn.† The camerlegno nodded. â€Å"Exactly.† 90 Langdon and Vittoria observed Piazza Barberini from the shadows of a small alleyway on the western corner. The church was opposite them, a hazy cupola emerging from a faint cluster of buildings across the square. The night had brought with it a welcome cool, and Langdon was surprised to find the square deserted. Above them, through open windows, blaring televisions reminded Langdon where everyone had disappeared to. â€Å"†¦ no comment yet from the Vatican†¦ Illuminati murders of two cardinals†¦ satanic presence in Rome†¦ speculation about further infiltration†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The news had spread like Nero's fire. Rome sat riveted, as did the rest of the world. Langdon wondered if they would really be able to stop this runaway train. As he scanned the piazza and waited, Langdon realized that despite the encroachment of modern buildings, the piazza still looked remarkably elliptical. High above, like some sort of modern shrine to a bygone hero, an enormous neon sign blinked on the roof of a luxurious hotel. Vittoria had already pointed it out to Langdon. The sign seemed eerily befitting. HOTEL BERNINI â€Å"Five of ten,† Vittoria said, cat eyes darting around the square. No sooner had she spoken the words than she grabbed Langdon's arm and pulled him back into the shadows. She motioned into the center of the square. Langdon followed her gaze. When he saw it, he stiffened. Crossing in front of them, beneath a street lamp, two dark figures appeared. Both were cloaked, their heads covered with dark mantles, the traditional black covering of Catholic widows. Langdon would have guessed they were women, but he couldn't be sure in the dark. One looked elderly and moved as if in pain, hunched over. The other, larger and stronger, was helping. â€Å"Give me the gun,† Vittoria said. â€Å"You can't just – â€Å" Fluid as a cat, Vittoria was in and out of his pocket once again. The gun glinted in her hand. Then, in absolute silence, as if her feet never touched the cobblestone, she was circling left in the shadows, arching across the square to approach the couple from the rear. Langdon stood transfixed as Vittoria disappeared. Then, swearing to himself, he hurried after her. The couple was moving slowly, and it was only a matter of half a minute before Langdon and Vittoria were positioned behind them, closing in from the rear. Vittoria concealed the gun beneath casually crossed arms in front of her, out of sight but accessible in a flash. She seemed to float faster and faster as the gap lessened, and Langdon battled to keep up. When his shoes scuffed a stone and sent it skittering, Vittoria shot him a sideways glare. But the couple did not seem to hear. They were talking. At thirty feet, Langdon could start to hear voices. No words. Just faint murmurings. Beside him, Vittoria moved faster with every step. Her arms loosened before her, the gun starting to peek out. Twenty feet. The voices were clearer – one much louder than the other. Angry. Ranting. Langdon sensed it was the voice of an old woman. Gruff. Androgynous. He strained to hear what she was saying, but another voice cut the night. â€Å"Mi scusi!† Vittoria's friendly tone lit the square like a torch. Langdon tensed as the cloaked couple stopped short and began to turn. Vittoria kept striding toward them, even faster now, on a collision course. They would have no time to react. Langdon realized his own feet had stopped moving. From behind, he saw Vittoria's arms loosening, her hand coming free, the gun swinging forward. Then, over her shoulder, he saw a face, lit now in the street lamp. The panic surged to his legs, and he lunged forward. â€Å"Vittoria, no!† Vittoria, however, seemed to exist a split second ahead of him. In a motion as swift as it was casual, Vittoria's arms were raised again, the gun disappearing as she clutched herself like a woman on a chilly night. Langdon stumbled to her side, almost colliding with the cloaked couple before them. â€Å"Buona sera,† Vittoria blurted, her voice startled with retreat. Langdon exhaled in relief. Two elderly women stood before them scowling out from beneath their mantles. One was so old she could barely stand. The other was helping her. Both clutched rosaries. They seemed confused by the sudden interruption. Vittoria smiled, although she looked shaken. â€Å"Dov'e la chiesa Santa Maria della Vittoria? Where is the Church of – â€Å" The two women motioned in unison to a bulky silhouette of a building on an inclined street from the direction they had come. â€Å"e la.† â€Å"Grazie,† Langdon said, putting his hands on Vittoria's shoulders and gently pulling her back. He couldn't believe they'd almost attacked a pair of old ladies. â€Å"Non si puo entrare,† one woman warned. â€Å"e chiusa temprano.† â€Å"Closed early?† Vittoria looked surprised. â€Å"Perche?† Both women explained at once. They sounded irate. Langdon understood only parts of the grumbling Italian. Apparently, the women had been inside the church fifteen minutes ago praying for the Vatican in its time of need, when some man had appeared and told them the church was closing early. â€Å"Hanno conosciuto l'uomo?† Vittoria demanded, sounding tense. â€Å"Did you know the man?† The women shook their heads. The man was a straniero crudo, they explained, and he had forcibly made everyone inside leave, even the young priest and janitor, who said they were calling the police. But the intruder had only laughed, telling them to be sure the police brought cameras. Cameras? Langdon wondered. The women clucked angrily and called the man a bar-rabo. Then, grumbling, they continued on their way. â€Å"Bar-rabo?† Langdon asked Vittoria. â€Å"A barbarian?† Vittoria looked suddenly taut. â€Å"Not quite. Bar-rabo is derogatory wordplay. It means rabo†¦ Arab.† Langdon felt a shiver and turned toward the outline of the church. As he did, his eyes glimpsed something in the church's stained-glass windows. The image shot dread through his body. Unaware, Vittoria removed her cell phone and pressed the auto dial. â€Å"I'm warning Olivetti.† Speechless, Langdon reached out and touched her arm. With a tremulous hand, he pointed to the church. Vittoria let out a gasp. Inside the building, glowing like evil eyes through the stained-glass windows†¦ shone the growing flash of flames. 91 Langdon and Vittoria dashed to the main entrance of the church of Santa Maria della Vittoria and found the wooden door locked. Vittoria fired three shots from Olivetti's semi-automatic into the ancient bolt, and it shattered. The church had no anteroom, so the entirety of the sanctuary spread out in one gasping sweep as Langdon and Vittoria threw open the main door. The scene before them was so unexpected, so bizarre, that Langdon had to close his eyes and reopen them before his mind could take it all in. The church was lavish baroque†¦ gilded walls and altars. Dead center of the sanctuary, beneath the main cupola, wooden pews had been stacked high and were now ablaze in some sort of epic funeral pyre. A bonfire shooting high into the dome. As Langdon's eyes followed the inferno upward, the true horror of the scene descended like a bird of prey. High overhead, from the left and right sides of the ceiling, hung two incensor cables – lines used for swinging frankincense vessels above the congregation. These lines, however, carried no incensors now. Nor were they swinging. They had been used for something else†¦ Suspended from the cables was a human being. A naked man. Each wrist had been connected to an opposing cable, and he had been hoisted almost to the point of being torn apart. His arms were outstretched in a spread-eagle as if he were nailed to some sort of invisible crucifix hovering within the house of God. Langdon felt paralyzed as he stared upward. A moment later, he witnessed the final abomination. The old man was alive, and he raised his head. A pair of terrified eyes gazed down in a silent plea for help. On the man's chest was a scorched emblem. He had been branded. Langdon could not see it clearly, but he had little doubt what the marking said. As the flames climbed higher, lapping at the man's feet, the victim let out a cry of pain, his body trembling. As if ignited by some unseen force, Langdon felt his body suddenly in motion, dashing down the main aisle toward the conflagration. His lungs filled with smoke as he closed in. Ten feet from the inferno, at a full sprint, Langdon hit a wall of heat. The skin on his face singed, and he fell back, shielding his eyes and landing hard on the marble floor. Staggering upright, he pressed forward again, hands raised in protection. Instantly he knew. The fire was far too hot. Moving back again, he scanned the chapel walls. A heavy tapestry, he thought. If I can somehow smother the†¦ But he knew a tapestry was not to be found. This is a baroque chapel, Robert, not some damn German castle! Think! He forced his eyes back to the suspended man. High above, smoke and flames swirled in the cupola. The incensor cables stretched outward from the man's wrists, rising to the ceiling where they passed through pulleys, and descended again to metal cleats on either side of the church. Langdon looked over at one of the cleats. It was high on the wall, but he knew if he could get to it and loosen one of the lines, the tension would slacken and the man would swing wide of the fire. A sudden surge of flames crackled higher, and Langdon heard a piercing scream from above. The skin on the man's feet was starting to blister. The cardinal was being roasted alive. Langdon fixed his sights on the cleat and ran for it. In the rear of the church, Vittoria clutched the back of a pew, trying to gather her senses. The image overhead was horrid. She forced her eyes away. Do something! She wondered where Olivetti was. Had he seen the Hassassin? Had he caught him? Where were they now? Vittoria moved forward to help Langdon, but as she did, a sound stopped her. The crackling of the flames was getting louder by the instant, but a second sound also cut the air. A metallic vibration. Nearby. The repetitive pulse seemed to emanate from the end of the pews to her left. It was a stark rattle, like the ringing of a phone, but stony and hard. She clutched the gun firmly and moved down the row of pews. The sound grew louder. On. Off. A recurrent vibration. As she approached the end of the aisle, she sensed the sound was coming from the floor just around the corner at the end of the pews. As she moved forward, gun outstretched in her right hand, she realized she was also holding something in her left hand – her cell phone. In her panic she had forgotten that outside she had used it to dial the commander†¦ setting off his phone's silent vibration feature as a warning. Vittoria raised her phone to her ear. It was still ringing. The commander had never answered. Suddenly, with rising fear, Vittoria sensed she knew what was making the sound. She stepped forward, trembling. The entire church seemed to sink beneath her feet as her eyes met the lifeless form on the floor. No stream of liquid flowed from the body. No signs of violence tattooed the flesh. There was only the fearful geometry of the commander's head†¦ torqued backward, twisted 180 degrees in the wrong direction. Vittoria fought the images of her own father's mangled body. The phone on the commander's belt lay against the floor, vibrating over and over against the cold marble. Vittoria hung up her own phone, and the ringing stopped. In the silence, Vittoria heard a new sound. A breathing in the dark directly behind her. She started to spin, gun raised, but she knew she was too late. A laser beam of heat screamed from the top of her skull to the soles of her feet as the killer's elbow crashed down on the back of her neck. â€Å"Now you are mine,† a voice said. Then, everything went black. Across the sanctuary, on the left lateral wall, Langdon balanced atop a pew and scraped upward on the wall trying to reach the cleat. The cable was still six feet above his head. Cleats like these were common in churches and were placed high to prevent tampering. Langdon knew priests used wooden ladders called piuli to access the cleats. The killer had obviously used the church's ladder to hoist his victim. So where the hell is the ladder now! Langdon looked down, searching the floor around him. He had a faint recollection of seeing a ladder in here somewhere. But where? A moment later his heart sank. He realized where he had seen it. He turned toward the raging fire. Sure enough, the ladder was high atop the blaze, engulfed in flames. Filled now with desperation, Langdon scanned the entire church from his raised platform, looking for anything at all that could help him reach the cleat. As his eyes probed the church, he had a sudden realization. Where the hell is Vittoria? She had disappeared. Did she go for help? Langdon screamed out her name, but there was no response. And where is Olivetti? There was a howl of pain from above, and Langdon sensed he was already too late. As his eyes went skyward again and saw the slowly roasting victim, Langdon had thoughts for only one thing. Water. Lots of it. Put out the fire. At least lower the flames.† I need water, damn it!† he yelled out loud. â€Å"That's next,† a voice growled from the back of the church. Langdon wheeled, almost falling off the pews. Striding up the side aisle directly toward him came a dark monster of a man. Even in the glow of the fire, his eyes burned black. Langdon recognized the gun in his hand as the one from his own jacket pocket†¦ the one Vittoria had been carrying when they came in. The sudden wave of panic that rose in Langdon was a frenzy of disjunct fears. His initial instinct was for Vittoria. What had this animal done to her? Was she hurt? Or worse? In the same instant, Langdon realized the man overhead was screaming louder. The cardinal would die. Helping him now was impossible. Then, as the Hassassin leveled the gun at Langdon's chest, Langdon's panic turned inward, his senses on overload. He reacted on instinct as the shot went off. Launching off the bench, Langdon sailed arms first over the sea of church pews. When he hit the pews, he hit harder than he had imagined, immediately rolling to the floor. The marble cushioned his fall with all the grace of cold steel. Footsteps closed to his right. Langdon turned his body toward the front of the church and began scrambling for his life beneath the pews. High above the chapel floor, Cardinal Guidera endured his last torturous moments of consciousness. As he looked down the length of his naked body, he saw the skin on his legs begin to blister and peel away. I am in hell, he decided. God, why hast thou forsaken me? He knew this must be hell because he was looking at the brand on his chest upside down†¦ and yet, as if by the devil's magic, the word made perfect sense. Angels & Demons 92 Three ballotings. No Pope. Inside the Sistine Chapel, Cardinal Mortati had begun praying for a miracle. Send us the candidates! The delay had gone long enough. A single missing candidate, Mortati could understand. But all four? It left no options. Under these conditions, achieving a two-thirds majority would take an act of God Himself. When the bolts on the outer door began to grind open, Mortati and the entire College of Cardinals wheeled in unison toward the entrance. Mortati knew this unsealing could mean only one thing. By law, the chapel door could only be unsealed for two reasons – to remove the very ill, or to admit late cardinals. The preferiti are coming! Mortati's heart soared. Conclave had been saved. But when the door opened, the gasp that echoed through the chapel was not one of joy. Mortati stared in incredulous shock as the man walked in. For the first time in Vatican history, a camerlegno had just crossed the sacred threshold of conclave after sealing the doors. What is he thinking! The camerlegno strode to the altar and turned to address the thunderstruck audience. â€Å"Signori,† he said, â€Å"I have waited as long as I can. There is something you have a right to know.†

Fiber Optic Cable use in the European Market Annotated Bibliography

Fiber Optic Cable use in the European Market - Annotated Bibliography Example Moreover, the study has also found that the technology has been improved since the use of fiber optic cables was first introduced. Fiber optic cables have also been the favored choice of communication for Europeans as it has been found that they are able to handle all forms of services with optimum efficiency1. This article says that the optic fiber cable network in Europe offers speeds of up to 10 gbps and is capable of providing as many as 80 channels per cable. The additional motivation behind the heavy use has been the provision of closer spacing of transmission signals both within the frequency as well as the time domains. Fiber optic cables are also capable of transmitting over very long distances (in the range of 500-1500 kilometers) without the need for any form of regeneration midway. In fact, the study of Electronicast suggests that it is the pressure for increasing bandwidth that as been fueling the need within networking companies to opt for the fiber cabling option. The article further states that the trend has also been encouraging fresh research into developing and producing cables with higher speeds and bandwidths2. This article from min... This article from mindbranch has highlighted that the increase in demand for fiber optic cables within Europe has put a huge stress on the supply capability of manufacturers and delays up to periods of up to 1-1.5 years of less are very common. However, in anticipation of this demand and supply imbalance, some of the major network companies have entered into agreements with cable manufacturers that assures them of a periodic and timely supply of fiber optic cables during the agreement period. This has in a way helped the major industry players in getting over the problem of cable shortage. Network service providers in Europe have also sensed this problem and have given importance to the future increase in network traffic. In order to be able to cut down on the costs, they have resorted to using only a portion of the network bandwidth and have left the other parts unutilized so that they can provide for cables with higher speeds in the future without any major overhaul of the existing cabling. With an increasing demand, the total worth of optical fiber cabling in Europe will rise to $20 billion by 2010, up from the $10 billion as on 20053. Yankee (2006), a long look at optical transport: Ultra long haul and submarine systems. New York: Yankee group. It is also worth mentioning about a short article from the Yankee group that has provided information on the nature and volumes of optic fiber cables in Europe. According to them, the total length of fiber optic cables installed in Europe has increased tremendously, with Western Europe accounting for a 22% increase, which was even more than the whole of north America put together. This suggests that the use of fiber optic cables has been more preferred in Europe. Estimates put the rate at 10% by

Science Fiction, Technology, and Our Modern World Essay - 6

Science Fiction, Technology, and Our Modern World - Essay Example The batch enables him to give back certain Chinese symbols, he will, therefore, give answers to questions. The answers are exactly similar to those of a native Chinese just by looking correlating the symbols and reading instructions in English. The man in the thought experiment does not comprehend Chinese but still produce coherent answers. A computer cannot possibly become conscious because of following code to produce answers, which it does not understand. This experiment proves that computers do not understand communication, and the programs will never be able to create minds or learn. Q2. Factionalism theory is a doctrine that states that what makes something a mental state such as thought, pain or desire does not depend on its internal constitution. It solely depends on its functionality or the role it performs on its cognitive system in which it is part. It explicitly means that its causal relations to sensory stimulations, and not mental state and behavior determine mental state identity. Language of thought theory postulates that thinking and thought happen in a mental language. The language consists of a representation system realized physically in the thinkers’ brain and has combinatorial semantics and syntax such that representation operations are only sensitive to the synaptic properties of representation. The thought is, therefore, a representation token that has a syntactic structure with relevant semantics. Looking at Data in The Next Generation (TNG) on the Star Trek, an Android strives to understand emotions and become a human being. Data and almost all Sci-fi related robots, Artificial Intelligence (AI), and androids that scientists have created are all anchored in the theories of functionalism. Q3. Arguments refuted by Dennett against robotic conscience include an old fashion dualism that robots are purely material while consciousness require immaterial mind-stuff.

Principles of autonomy Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words

Principles of autonomy - Essay Example In this regard, autonomy dos not license patients to make any detrimental decisions that would hurt them, the family or the society. The idea of autonomy is banked upon the fact that people have different views regarding their health, religion, and cultural issues. In this regard, the principle expects that autonomous decisions maximize the welfare of the patients. It is worth noting that patients are supported by family members and other people in the community. As a result, they expect positive health outcomes. It is unethical to betray the expectation of other people by making unwise decisions. Family members are a particularly concerned about the progress of their patient and hence it would be unfair to them, both emotionally and financially, to make decisions that harm their health. The harmful acts may also require additional treatment and care; a fact that would add on to the cost of healthcare and reduce the recovery time. Thus, patients must consider the impact of their autonomous decisions on others before taking