Globalization and the World Economy - 2356 Words

Running head: GLOBALIZATION Globalization and the World Economy Rodney L. Hughes Sr. Columbia Southern University Professor Bob Allen International Business, MBA 6601-06D June 12, 2007 Globalization and the World Economy Globalization is a powerful real aspect on the new world system, and it represents one of the most influential forces in determining the future course of the planet. It is described as having â€Å"many dimensions: economic, political, social, cultural, environmental, and security† (Intriligator, 2001). Globalization in the 21st century is inevitable. Increased globalization and international businesses are growing because†¦show more content†¦The advent of the internet has allowed for rapid access to world markets. Knowing how to use the internet for globalization activities can be very beneficial for a company. In this dotcom economy, everything can be produced anywhere and sold anywhere. The internet has given many companies a new view on how to handle global business needs. Globalization is not just a â€Å"me too† trend. There are solid reasons why some businesses embrace the global path and others do not. Three solid business factors for glob alization are expansion of sales, to acquire resources, and to minimize risk. Daniels, Radebaugh, and Sullivan (2007) claim that a company’s sales are dependent on two factors: the consumers’ interest in their products or services and the consumers’ willingness and ability to buy them. Higher sales mean higher profits, so increased sales are a major motive for company’s expansion into globalization. To acquire resources manufacturers and distributors seek out products, services, and components produced in foreign countries (Daniels, et al., p18). Foreign sources may give companies lower costs, new or better products, and additional operating knowledge. To minimize swings in sales and profits, companies may seek out foreign markets to take advantage of business cycle differences among countries (Daniels, et al., p18). International operations may reduce operating risk by smoothing sales and profits and preventingShow MoreRelatedThe Globalization Of Th e World Economy Essay1007 Words   |  5 PagesGLOBAL BENEFITS Introduction The globalization of the World economy has inspired companies to expand abroad to acquire competitive advantage (Longnecker, 2004). In light of this expansion, companies send their employees to foreign countries on assignments. The challenge that comes with this kind of transfer revolves around the employee s willingness to uproot their lives and relocate to a new state (Longnecker, 2004). As a result, companies are now developing attractive compensation packages toRead MoreThe World Is Flat : Globalization Of Economy Essay1697 Words   |  7 PagesThe World Is Flat: Globalization of Economy The world is flat again, but it has nothing to do with the whether or not the Earth is spherically shaped. This analysis has to do with the globalized 21st century world we live in and how we navigate the business world which now includes access to information, culture, politics and economy from all the nations of the world. It’s a notion that is both exciting and scary if you think about it, as author Thomas L. Friedman writes in his book The World IsRead MoreImpact Of Globalization On The World Economy934 Words   |  4 Pagesâ€Å"Globalization refers to all those processes by which the people of the world are incorporated into a single world society, global society.† Definition by Martin AL brow, 1990, a British Sociologist. 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Every day around the world, banks and stockbrokers transfer vast amounts of money across country borders in the form of retirement funds, hedge funds,Read MoreImpact Of Globalization On The World Economy800 Words   |  4 PagesThe process of globalisation came with the evolution of technology, industries and media and this process has been happening for a long time changing the world in cultural, social, political and economic aspects. According to Jan Aart Scholte, â⠂¬Å"a more global world is one where more messages, ideas, merchandise, money, investments, pollutants and people cross borders between national-state-territorial units†. Some positive effects of globalisation can be listened such as people become more open toRead MoreGlobalization And Its Impact On The World Economy2126 Words   |  9 Pages Introduction Globalisation is disputably the most vital factor currently shaping the world economy. 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In an amazingly short period of time, China increasedRead MoreGlobalization And The World Economy And Global Markets Essay1270 Words   |  6 PagesGlobalization is often connected to the world economy and global markets. HoweverHowever, it is much deeper than economic exchange of goods; it also deals with people s lifestyles, culture, language, and identity. Many people support the ideology of globalization and believed it made the world a better place for global population by turning the whole globe into a well-connected village. However, the critics of globalization claim it made our world worse than ever before in the history, diminishingRead MoreGlobalization s Effect On The World Economy1 624 Words   |  7 Pagesthe World’s Economy The economy is based of both producers and consumers, but the customers are the ones that ensure the success of each company. More than half of the world’s population lives in a portion of Southeast Asia (Schuman). 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Dragonhaven CHAPTER FIVE Free Essays

string(150) " hated school I don’t entirely get this – seems to me not having to go to school might balance not having lots of friends your own age\." The first two years of Lois’ life are both really blurry and really clear in my memory. There are all kinds of little sharp clear pieces in it, mostly about watching Lois grow and worrying about keeping her healthy, that are still dead immediate like they happened yesterday. But I have very little sense of the time passing, except for Lois getting bigger, which I really liked seeing, was hooked on seeing, because it was the only clue I had that maybe she was okay and thriving. We will write a custom essay sample on Dragonhaven CHAPTER FIVE or any similar topic only for you Order Now I’m sure we had lots more close calls than I know about (or want to, even now) but one that I do know about, and scared me to death at the time, was the next time the school-form-filler-outer gang came to test me on the nonacademic stuff. I think they were suspicious of the apprenticeship, although at that point, with the hooha about the poacher going on, everyone who wasn’t one of us was suspicious of everything at Smokehill, and maybe it wasn’t only cops who hang around talking loudly in gift shops who thought there was something strange about Dad â€Å"handing over his only child† to the Rangers. So what happened was that the usual school pencil pushers brought a doctor along without warning us. Usually I got a complete medical only once a year, and the last one had only been them six weeks before Lois happened, so I should have had a long spell yet to get her used to staying by herself, or at least not needing skin, which she kept burning. And here less than six months later was this dweeb telling me to take my shirt off so he could listen to my heart. And he took one look at my stomach, of course, and freaked. Don’t panic, I said to myself. You look guilty when you panic. This is another of those great hindsight things – he must have been thinking about some kind of really kinky child abuse or self-harm (I can’t offhand think of anything that would leave marks like a dragonlet’s tongue), and if I’d seemed frightened that would have made him think so all the more, and he would have started raking through our business and discovered that we were keeping some kind of big horrible secret. Child abuse didn’t cross my mind at the time, but the big horrible secret sure did. I don’t know where I got the nerve – maybe from spending so much time with Billy, who even told cops where they got off calmly – but I looked at my stomach and said, â€Å"Oh, yeah, eczema. My mom started getting it when she was about my age.† The tension level immediately sank about sixty fathoms and although he still wasn’t happy – â€Å"Why didn’t you report it? We could have given you something for it long ago, before it got this bad† – I think he stopped worrying that he had something to report back to headquarters. He muttered about stress levels and preoccupied single parents and looking at my diet and changing our laundry detergent and taking some scrapings to see if it was some kind of weird fungus instead of eczema (he did this, and the results must have been negative for weird funguses, even if Lois did kind of look like a large walking weird fungus), since it was rather unusual eczema (duh), and then he said he’d prescribe some cream for it as it was a pretty painful looking case (that was true enough; I give him credit – he was very gentle with the scraping taking) and it was peculiar that it was only on my stomach. Here I showed him some other littler Loi s marks on my arms and my feet and legs, and this seemed to cheer him up. Doctors are weird. Then when he found out I was living with Billy and Grace he wanted to talk to Grace about laundry detergent and what I ate which I found pretty insulting but Grace thought was funny. But at least it meant I got back to Lois before she had a heart attack and Grace had to go up to the institute and get her instructions how to take care of me. At least the doc didn’t insist on coming to see my room. After that it was always the same doctor, and after a while he wanted to write some kind of paper on my skin complaint, which he wasn’t even sure was eczema, he said (bright of him), and he sure tried to get me to come up to some hospital and have some fancy tests done, but I didn’t want to go (leave Lois overnight?) and Dad wouldn’t make me, obviously, and since I was healthy except for the eczema, the doc reluctantly let it go. The other seriously scary near miss – except that it wasn’t a miss at all – was Eleanor’s fault. That she and Martha knew something was up in itself wouldn’t have been a big deal, necessarily, kids at the Institute were always being not told stuff, and overlooked or got out of the way – or told to get out of the way like it isn’t normal to want to know what’s going on. Being a kid is probably like that everywhere. It’s maybe worse here in some ways because we all live here – nobody goes home from the office. Martha and I knew this – I’ve been here since I was born and Martha since she was two – and it was just the way it was. But it’s one of the reasons that families with kids old enough to know the way the rest of the world works never stay here long. Even if both parents have jobs they like the kids hate it. They’re kept out of the grown-up stuff and there is no kid stuff. Since pretty much every kid I’ve ever talked to (and most grown-ups) say they hated school I don’t entirely get this – seems to me not having to go to school might balance not having lots of friends your own age. You read "Dragonhaven CHAPTER FIVE" in category "Essay examples" But I guess it doesn’t. Eleanor was another story. Of course she’s the youngest, so that’s a big thing right there – she’s always trying to be older. But Eleanor has to be out there. Martha and me, if we’re told to go away and leave the grown-ups alone, find a book to read or baby orphan to feed (ha ha). Eleanor hates being shut out of anything. Which is why, since she got old enough to be usefully and sort of applied-ly a brat instead of just a general brat sort of brat, Martha and I knew more stuff about the Institute than we used to, because she’s always generous (to the other members of our oppressed race, the children) with her info. And this time whatever they weren’t being told bothered Martha too; because I was in on it. I think Martha might have been kind of bracing herself for, this to happen – that I would suddenly become one of the grown-ups, or at least not a kid like her and Eleanor any more – and maybe she thought my solo ov ernight really had been it, the place where I crossed the line. But this was kind of more spectacular than she expected. And it drove Eleanor insane. I’ve already told you I felt bad about not really being friends any more. Friends with Martha anyway, interactions with Eleanor don’t really come under that heading. It’s like I’d barely seen Martha and Eleanor except for my fifteenth birthday party which after the first hour I just wanted to be over with because I had to get back to Lois who I knew would be starting to shred the bedclothes. That’s not too flattering to the people at your party. It was already a strange party because Grace hadn’t come – but someone had to stay home and make not-alone noises for Lois. Billy brought the cake she’d made but it was still strange. And I saw Martha and Eleanor when the school testers came, but none of us was at our best then. That was one thing we had totally in common. All three of us hated the grown-ups who came to prod us and take notes like we were some kind of science project or field survey. I felt like giving them tips. Our R angers did it so much better. But while it was Eleanor’s idea, I think in this case Martha went along with it. And so one afternoon when Lois was about seven months old and I was home alone doing extra schoolwork so I could sit still longer and let Lois sleep on my (bare) feet for longer, first because any time she was asleep I wanted to keep her that way as long as possible and second because I’d been over three hours at the Institute the day before and she’d been pretty panicked and crazy by the time I got back. (Panicked and crazy was getting bigger and heavier too, she was going to be leaving bruises some day soon, as well as eczema, never mind the grisly idea of her giving the slip to Billy or Grace or whoever her jailer was that day, and galumphing up to the institute to look for me. Or just getting hopelessly lost in the woods. This really was not likely – at least not until she was big enough to keep galumphing with Billy or Grace hanging around her neck – but it was still another thing that worried me.) Also . . . this is another of those things I don’t know how to explain, even in hindsight, although I have a much better idea what was going on now than I did then . . . my stupid permanent headache was sort of better when I was thinking about stuff: I’ve said it was easier to live with if I was doing something, but that’s not quite right. It’s like it liked certain kinds of brainwork. It liked educational stuff, not worry stuff. It didn’t exactly hurt less, but it hurt better. Remember I said, about when I first had it, that it sometimes seemed like it was trying to fit inside my head and couldn’t figure out why it couldn’t make itself comfortable? Well now it was like something in my head that was interested in some of the same things I was interested in. Headline in the National Stupid People Press: Boy Believes He Was Kidnapped by Aliens and Has an Alien Spy Thingy Implanted in His Brain. Photos on page seven. I didn’t â₠¬â€œ didn’t think I’d been kidnapped by aliens, I mean – but I did start to sort of half think of my headache as almost another thing – like me, Lois, Billy, Grace, the Smell, and the Headache – but without finishing the other half of thinking about it, because it was too weird. Anyway. So Headache and I were deep in this afternoon when I heard the door bang and I had about five seconds to jerk myself out of whatever I was doing and think that the bang didn’t sound right and that neither Billy nor Grace was due back till later, and then a voice I knew only too well said, â€Å"What is that smell?† and I was on my feet and would have been out of my bedroom door and closing it behind me in another five seconds but Eleanor was too fast for me. â€Å"Oh, shit,† I said. If Dad had been there that would have been my allowance for that week. (Sure I have an allowance, even in Smokehill. How do you think I paid for all those on-line hours of Annihilate?) But if he’d been there he’d’ve stopped it from happening somehow, I don’t know how, put a bag over Eleanor’s head and said three magic words or something. Dad copes. It hasn’t been good for his temper but he copes. Lois poked her nose around the desk leg, not happy at the abrupt removal of my feet, but generally speaking always ready to be thrilled at meeting someone else so long as I was there too. She did one of her peeps. Not that I could ever say for sure what happy was in Lois terms, but her spine plates, now that they were big enough to do anything, tended to erect themselves when she was what I would call happy and interested. They stiffened now. And her nostrils flared, and she did a kind of ooonnngg-peeEEEeep-oooonnngggg. I told you about my dad suddenly believing Billy’s story was real when he heard the weird noises coming from under his son’s shirt. Sound and smell are very convincing. Just seeing something that looks like a low-level goblin out of a bad computer game isn’t so convincing. â€Å"What is that?† Eleanor said, in that way you do when you’re really surprised: Whaaaaat is thaaaaaat? It takes a lot to surprise Eleanor. By this time Martha had joined Eleanor in the doorway, except by then Eleanor was out of the doorway and going toward Lois. I grabbed her arm. â€Å"Leave her alone,† I said. â€Å"Her?† said Eleanor. â€Å"Ow. You’re hurting me.† â€Å"Tough eggs,† I said. I was so shocked it was taking me a little while to get angry but I was going to be spectacularly angry when I got there. â€Å"What are you doing here?† I looked at Martha, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Eleanor wouldn’t meet them either, but that was because she was staring at Lois. Eleanor has no conscience. And Martha was pretty fascinated too. Who wouldn’t be? â€Å"What is that – she?† said Eleanor. â€Å"How do you know it’s a she?† â€Å"She’s a dragon, isn’t she,† said Martha in this spaced-out voice. She was as shocked as I was, sort of from the opposite direction. We were both seeing the last thing we expected to see. â€Å"No, she’s an aardvark,† I said. I couldn’t quite come out and say, yes, that’s right, this is my baby dragon, Lois. This is the big secret no one has been telling you. â€Å"What are you doing here?† Eleanor finally turned away from Lois long enough to look up at me. I still had her by the arm. â€Å"I wanted to know what was going on,† she said in her shoot-from-the-hip way. She might lie, cheat and steal to get where she wanted to go, but she’d tell you she’d done it once she got there. â€Å"But – † I said. I didn’t know where to begin. â€Å"They’re all in some meeting about something,† she said. â€Å"The grown-ups. So there wasn’t anyone watching us – for a change,† she said with scorn, although at eight years old and living in the biggest and wildest wild animal park in the country it was hardly surprising she wasn’t allowed to wander around by herself – and Katie did know that Martha couldn’t be expected to keep Eleanor from doing something she was determined to do. Where was Katie when I needed her? â€Å"Meeting,† I said blankly. I was trying to remember if Billy and Grace had said anything about where they were going. Billy usually didn’t. Grace usually did. But Grace wasn’t a Smokehill employee; she just sold the admin some of her drawings. She wouldn’t be going to a Smokehill meeting. Would she? All the grown-ups. And she loved Smokehill as passionately as any of us. â€Å"It can’t be all the grown-ups,† I said. â€Å"It is though,† said Eleanor. â€Å"They’ve closed the park for the day and everything. For this big special meeting. We’re not supposed to know about it. They close the park and the grown-ups all disappear but we’re not supposed to notice.† â€Å"Mom said she’d only be gone a couple of hours and everyone was busy,† said Martha mildly. â€Å"Busy going to the meeting,† muttered Eleanor. â€Å"We’re short staffed,† Martha continued as if Eleanor hadn’t said anything. â€Å"We’re always short staffed,† said Eleanor. â€Å"But there’s never been a meeting for all the grown-ups before.† â€Å"About the caves?† I said, completely at a loss. I remembered Dad yesterday saying, really casually, that I could have the day off, stay home, away from the Institute. At the time I thought he just meant, and give Lois a break, because I’d been so long we knew she’d be in a state when I got back. He probably did mean that – but had he arranged for me to be delayed yesterday, to give himself the excuse to tell me not to come up today? What damned meeting? But suddenly I knew. And I didn’t want to know. Eleanor gave me one of her famous you-don’t-know-anything-you-pathetic-schmuck looks. â€Å"No, stupid. About the dead guy. Oh!† She looked back at Lois. â€Å"You’re right, Martha. It’s a dragon.† That’s another thing about Eleanor. She never believes anything anyone tells her until she works it out for herself and it suits her to believe it. â€Å"The dragon the dead guy killed was a mom dragon, and this is her baby.† I decided without any difficulty not to say that this was her fifth and only living baby, and how I knew this, but I didn’t deny that Eleanor was right. Pretty good thinking for eight. . . â€Å"She doesn’t look like a dragon,† Eleanor continued. â€Å"She looks like. . .† Eleanor actually paused. I’ll tell you for free that most people’s imaginations aren’t up to describing what a dragonlet looks like, and Eleanor was always so busy trying to figure out how to get in the way out here in the real world she hadn’t worked on her imagination much. I was allowed to describe Lois to myself as looking like roadkill or one of the monsters out of the first series of Star Trek, but I didn’t want anyone else doing it. So I managed to interrupt. â€Å"Just stop there. I don’t want to hear.† Martha knelt down, the way you do with small children and animals to get them to come to you. This works too well with Lois – she peeped delightedly and shot out from under the desk where she’d been keeping the backs of my legs hot. I dropped Eleanor’s arm just in time to fend Lois off. â€Å"Don’t – she’ll burn you.† Too late, of course – Martha might have listened but Eleanor instantly reached out to pat her. â€Å"Ow,† she said, like Lois had hurt her deliberately. This made me madder than it should’ve. Not at Lois. At Eleanor. â€Å"I told you,† I said, trying to be patient. â€Å"She’ll burn you. She can’t help it. She’s just hot.† â€Å"What do you – † Eleanor began accusingly, and then stopped and looked at her hand. She hadn’t touched Lois long enough to have left a red mark. â€Å"Oh,† she said. â€Å"Eczema. It’s not because your mom had it.† The things that kid picks up. â€Å"No,† I said. â€Å"If she opens her mouth, can you see the fire inside?† said Eleanor. It was a reasonable question for an eight-year-old. â€Å"No,† I said. â€Å"It’s a special organ, like you have lungs to breathe, dragons have a fire-stomach for fire.† Which was about as much as anyone knew: We were all eight-year-olds about dragons. I was down on the floor now too, with my arm around Lois’ neck. It was mostly only fresh bits of me that weren’t used to it that really burned any more – although my stomach stayed pretty scaly – and I was wearing a longsleeved shirt. Eleanor sat down in front of me, staring with renewed fascination at Lois, now only a few inches away. I was used to it, but at this distance you could feel her radiating heat, like sitting too close to the stove. â€Å"Your eczema should be a lot worse,† said Eleanor. â€Å"You get used to it,† I said. â€Å"I’ve always wanted to see a dragon up close,† said Martha. And suddenly we were on the same side again. Suddenly I realized that while everything, Lois’ life, Smokehill’s future, everything that mattered, was about to have to rely on whether we could come up with a good reason to make Eleanor keep her big blackmailing mouth shut, it was also a relief to be a kid among kids again, even if I was the oldest and Eleanor was a pain in the butt. When you’re the only kid surrounded by grown-ups, even when the grown-ups are busy protecting you, you spend a certain amount of time just holding your own line, just hanging on to being yourself. When you’re with other kids you don’t have to do this. Well, not so much. Eleanor has always been pushy. She was a pushy baby. â€Å"Yeah,† I said. â€Å"Me too.† â€Å"What’s her name?† said Martha matter-of-factly, as if naming a dragon is a perfectly ordinary thing to do. As if having a dragon to name was a perfectly ordinary thing. â€Å"Lois,† I said. â€Å"Lois?† said Eleanor. â€Å"That’s a stupid name for a dragon.† This was so typical an Eleanor remark I didn’t bother to answer it, and I didn’t care either. But Martha said quietly, â€Å"I think it’s a nice name,† and mysteriously this made me feel really good. We all sat there a little longer, staring at Lois. Lois, who was extremely used to me holding her off from flinging herself on the few people she ever got to see, had given up, and collapsed half onto my lap, grunting and murmuring a little from the awkwardness of her position, but also because she had this funny habit of muttering into silences in conversations. That was how we usually have conversations, right? Someone talks while everyone else is quiet, then someone else talks while the first person shuts up, and so on. I hadn’t had a good shouting-over-each-other match with Dad since Lois came. Probably all the conversations she ever heard were polite ones. Snark had known my schedule better than I did, and if I was late to be doing something (like getting on the sofa after dinner to watch TV, so he could join me), he reminded me. Lois didn’t seem to have much sense of time, but she had a sense of conversation. If no one else was saying anything, she did. And I†™d got in the habit of letting her finish. After Lois had had her mutter, I said, â€Å"What is this about the poacher?† Martha sighed her worried sigh, but Eleanor launched straight in. â€Å"His parents are on TV all over the country saying that dragons are too dangerous and they should all be killed!† I gaped at her. â€Å"They’ll never make that stick.† Martha said, â€Å"They’re very, very, very, very wealthy.† I don’t know how good an idea about money most kids have, but I’d grown up listening to my parents not just trying to figure out how to make the year’s budget work and what we could get along without so it would stretch a little farther, which probably most kids listen to in most families, but about the really dazzling mess of getting, keeping, justifying, and accounting for funding for the Institute. I knew about congressional subcommittees and private donors and action groups and lobbyists. And I knew instantly – as Martha, whose mom was a member of the Institute’s budgetary council, also knew – that very, very, very, very wealthy people who wanted something and didn’t care how they got it were very, very, very, very dangerous. I hadn’t thought I could worry any more than I was already worrying, all the time, about Lois. I was wrong. â€Å"It’s been going on for months,† said Martha. â€Å"Well, since – since it happened. At first nobody took them seriously. But they just kept at it – â€Å" Kept throwing money at it, I translated silently. â€Å"And they’ve started the Human Preservation Society† – I didn’t know Martha knew how to sound that scornful – â€Å"and they’re really well organized.† Have hired goons to write letters and hang out with members of Congress and other people who like playing with money and power, I translated. And because they have lots of money, they’ve hired effective goons and send lots of letters. I hoped Dad’s coping mechanism was up to it. My brain was doing a slow, dazed reshuffle of my awareness of the tension level around the Institute. It made me feel silly and self-absorbed (or Lois-absorbed) to be reminded that the world – the world that mattered – didn’t actually revolve around us. I wasn’t enjoying the reminder. It was also incredibly stupid of me to have forgotten about the death of the poacher, even if it had been months ago now, and I didn’t want to remember. I remembered the death of Lois’ mom all right. I still thought of her every day. You can’t pet a dragonlet. Well, you can, but in the first place you’ll probably burn your hand, depending on how sensitive your skin is, and in the second place I figured it couldn’t feel like much to the dragon. Even as a squishy baby Lois had noticeably thick skin, and now that she was growing scales, it was more like running your hand over pebbles. But she was certainly an interactive creature and, as I say, noisy. I was having the petting reflex as I thought about the poacher – I’d half petted the hair off Snark when I was worried about something – but I’d learned to deflect the reflex in Lois’ case. Unfortunately I didn’t think about this any more – I wasn’t used to having people around with me and Lois – so I burbled at her. I could do a half-decent Lois burble. I couldn’t peep and I couldn’t mew, but I could burble. She turned her funny snout up toward me – sheâ €™d been staring at Martha and Eleanor as keenly as they were staring at her – and burbled back. â€Å"You’re as goofy about that dragon as you were about your dog,† said Eleanor, who was four when he died and shouldn’t have been able to remember him at all. He wasn’t her dog and she’d never found him interesting. She probably didn’t mean to sound as snotty as she did sound, but she sounded pretty snotty. I stood up. I did not have a brilliant coping mechanism. â€Å"You shouldn’t be here, and if I tell anybody you were here you’ll get into more trouble than you’ve ever imagined getting into,† I said to her. This was not what I’d planned a few minutes ago when I’d been thinking about how my first priority was to think of a way to make Eleanor keep her mouth shut, but then I hadn’t had any plan. If I hadn’t been so pissed off at her saying what she’d said, though, I’d have known better than to threaten her, which was always the thing that worked least with her. But Martha surprised me. â€Å"She won’t,† said Martha. She’d stood up when I did. Martha wasn’t big for thirteen the way I was big for fifteen, but she was still a lot bigger than eight-year-old Eleanor. This is a lot of Eleanor’s problem, as I say. She takes on the world because she hates being littlest; and she’s a little littlest. But although I saw her face pulling into its usual pig-headed brat the-thing-I’m-going-to-do-first-is-the-thing-you-don’t-want-me-to-do lines, she looked at me and then at Martha and wavered. This was a first with Eleanor so far as I know. She doesn’t know how to waver. Martha and I must have looked pretty fierce. I was feeling like pig-headed brat roast for dinner, but I didn’t know Martha knew how to look fierce. I looked at her though and she did. She didn’t sound angry the way I did, but she said, very calmly, â€Å"Eleanor, this is about all of our lives. This about you and me and Jake, and Mom and Dr. Mendoza, and Billy and all the Rangers, and everybody you know. And it’s about Jake’s dragon and all the dragons in Smokehill. You know dragons are why we’re here, don’t you?† Eleanor is one of these people who when she comes into the room, whatever is going on becomes all about Eleanor. I didn’t think even Smokehill really got through to Eleanor. I was wrong. I don’t know if Martha knew her better than I did – if maybe she was more Martha’s sister than I’d realized. But Eleanor looked thoughtfully at Martha for a moment, and she looked smaller for that moment, just an ordinary kid. â€Å"Yes,† she said, â€Å"I do.† She added in more her usual manner, â€Å"I’m not stupid.† And then she turned on me and stuck her chin out and clenched her fists and said, â€Å"And I’ll even keep your secret for you, but first you have to apologize, and then you have to ask me nicely, and I don’t care what you think you can do to me.† I was over my bad temper by then. And besides, Lois was so much more important. (Lois, who I was keeping trapped between my shins so she couldn’t go burn Martha and Eleanor and, among other things, maybe give the game away after all.) â€Å"I’m sorry,† I said, almost sincerely. â€Å"Please don’t tell anyone about Lois, okay?† She pulled her chin in a little and crossed her arms. â€Å"Okay,† she said. And I believed her. The grown-ups were really preoccupied at dinner that night, so they didn’t notice I was really preoccupied too. Kit and Jane were there as well as Dad, and Grace and Billy. I don’t know if having more silent grown-ups there was supposed to make the silence less obvious but it didn’t. Grace and Lois and I kept the conversation going. Grace did a pretty good burble too, although she always did it the way you make â€Å"mmm-hmmm† noises at a four-year-old (human) who wants to tell you a story. It reminded me of being four, when Grace sometimes babysat for me. This didn’t actually improve my mood. It seemed to me they were still â€Å"mmm-hmmming† me really. I wanted to ask them how the meeting had gone, but I couldn’t, since I wasn’t supposed to know about it. It did make me a little angry that they seemed to think Martha and Eleanor wouldn’t have noticed, even if they thought they had me safely tucked away (they were right about that, which was part of why I was angry), but I’ve noticed before the way children are conveniently assumed to be dumb when adults need them to be. You’d think the adults would learn. But who am I to be sarcastic? I didn’t want to know about the poacher. The villain. I didn’t want the poacher ever to cross my mind for any reason whatsoever. It was bad enough thinking about Lois’ mom, every day, which I did, as I told you. I used to try to blot out the memory part of it by deliberately calling up that dragon cave I still dreamed about sometimes, which usually had her in it, because there she was alive which is how I knew it was only a stupid childish dream and it meant I really was a wuss. I mostly could blot the poacher out. But this was the worst yet: that he had parents who could make big trouble for Smokehill. How do I explain this to you though? I did think about it, that evening, with all these preoccupied grown-ups eating Grace’s food and pretending really badly that everything was normal, whatever normal was any more. I thought about it and kind of realized – although writing it down like this makes it again a whole lot more rational than it was at the time – that I couldn’t think about it. It was too much. If there was a line, this was over it. My job was to raise Lois. Somebody else was going to have to deal with the villain. About the time Lois started riding on my shoulders she also suddenly hey presto housebroke herself. What a major relief that was. Dragon diapers are the WORST. (And I should say I didn’t do all my own laundry, if you counted Lois. We all did Lois’ diapers. And – speaking of needing generators to run stuff – I can’t imagine doing baby dragon diapers without a washing machine. Or anyway I don’t want to. Mind you we were probably destroying the local groundwater table or whatever. They took more than one go and you didn’t just throw them in without some preliminary detox either.) But it was weird, how fast it happened, and how little I had to do with it. It makes sense if you figure that this must be the stage when the baby dragon is not merely old enough (and scaly enough) to look out of its mom’s pouch but old enough to climb out and do its business outdoors, which must be a major relief to Mom. I had noticed that Lois’ scales first started really looking like scales on her head, like they grew there first so she could look out and get used to the idea of out. It was a relief in other ways too – her tail was turning into a tail, and the diapers didn’t fit so well any more, and even Billy’s ingenuity has its limits. Big disgusting yuck. I used to make jokes about Super Glue. Especially when – No, never mind. The point is that suddenly it wasn’t a problem any more. Except that it was because everything about Lois was a problem and the problem got bigger as she got bigger, and while no more dragon diapers was TOTALLY a good thing, dragon dung doesn’t disintegrate that fast, so I had to get out there and bury the stuff all the time, and dragonlet digestion really puts the stuff through, so while I would have said she was never out of my sight when we were outdoors together (she’d better not be) she still managed to leave piles I didn’t notice her leaving. Then there was the fact that dragonlet pee slowly burns holes in almost everything it touches (it didn’t burn right through the diapers, but it wore through fast enough that we had to patch them, and needlework is not my thing but Grace let me use pretty much anything in her sewing box, so some of them got kind of artistically interesting over time and repeat mending) and fortunately Billy and Grace’s house didn’t have any lawn to destroy, but she still almost managed to kill one of Grace’s Smokehill-winter-proof, tougher-than-the-French-Foreign-Legion rhododendrons before I figured out how to persuade her – Lois, not Grace – to pee and crap in one sort of general area. Although this still wasn’t foolproof. I swear I was always out there with my shovel – to the extent that if a dragon could get neurotic I should have given Lois a complex – and even so half the time when Kit or Jane came round the conversation woul d begin like this: Kit or Jane: â€Å"Hi, Jake. There’s a – â€Å" Me: â€Å"Okay.† And I go get my shovel. (If it was Whiteoak, he just looked at me. And I’d go get my shovel.) And miss whatever they’d come to say, probably, which may have been the idea. Lois would always come with me. Far from developing a complex she was delighted for an excuse to go outside and play some more, and as far as she was concerned (evidently) my strange compulsion to bury her leavings was as good an excuse as anything else, and the house was getting smaller and smaller as she got bigger and bigger. (I wonder what she thought about the toilet. I always used to wonder that about Snark. I don’t know how good a dragon’s sense of smell is, but it would have to be really bad not to draw the correct conclusions about what the toilet is about. And a dog has to know. So isn’t it thinking, Hey, why do you get to use that thing when I have to go outdoors even when the wind chill makes it sixty below and the snow is coming in sideways?) She weighed about thirty pounds when she housebroke herself, but that’s still a pretty fair weight to carry around on your shoulders (if you’re only a human), especially when it wiggles. The thing I worried about the most – the most after the possibility of someone taking a wrong turn and wandering into Billy and Grace’s backyard some day, especially some day when I hadn’t got out there with my shovel, or maybe in fact I was out there with my shovel, and with Lois herself – was that she was going to start practicing her fire-throwing. The fact that she was alive proved her igniventator was working, and the skin on my stomach sure believed it. And as well as getting bigger and noisier she was getting livelier and she wanted more action. How do you teach a dragon to come, sit and stay? Fortunately she still had little short legs and couldn’t run as fast as I could. (Snark had been able to run faster than me by the time he was twelve weeks old, although I was still pretty little myself then.) But I was pretty sure this wouldn’t be true much longer. I was also keeping a sharp, anxious eye on her wing stubs, but they didn’t seem to be doing anything much yet either. But speaking of training a dragon, it was at this stage, when she was beginning to spend significant amounts of time outside her mom’s pouch equivalent that I began to realize . . . this is going to sound really stupid . . . that she was trying to, uh, respond to me, I mean aside from the fact that she still got hysterical if I wasn’t around for more than about two hours. I’ve raised, or helped raise, baby birds and baby raccoons and baby woodchucks and baby porcupines, and watched the Rangers raise baby bears and baby wolves and baby eagles, and some of them even survived to grow up and fly or run or trundle away. But when a baby robin gets all excited and sticks its neck out and opens its mouth and goes â€Å"ak kak kak kak kak† at you it’s not exactly responding to you. It’s responding to the prospect of getting fed. It never thinks about being a robin, and it doesn’t care what you are, so long as you’re feeding it the right stuff. (Chopped up earthworms rolled in dirt are a favorite. Delicious.) I also know that animals raised by humans tend to grow up funny because they aren’t getting socialized by their own kind and don’t learn how to do it, but even then I’m not sure that what they’re doing is confusing themselves by trying to be human. What they’re doing is failing to learn how to be themselves. And I was a little silly about Lois . . . okay, more than a little. But can you blame me? The point is, when she started spending more time at a little distance, so we could like look at each other – that was another thing, her eyes had suddenly gone all sharp and focused at about five months; I’d begun to think that maybe dragons don’t use sight much (and then I’d remember her mom’s eye, sharp and clear and focused as anything – and dying – and then I’d remember all the impossible stuff I’d seen in that eye about hope and despair – and then I’d take my mind off it like peeling Snark as a puppy off the shoe he was disemboweling) anyway, when Lois could watch me properly, she started trying to do what I was doing. For a while I could ignore it, put it down to why your cat walks on your keyboard when you’re trying to use your computer, why your dog suddenly wants to play fetch when it’s y our turn to get dinner. But she wasn’t just trying to get my attention. It took me a while to figure this out – dragons and humans are shaped so much different. It’s not like baby chimps learning to crack coconuts with stones by picking up a stone and banging with it because that’s what Mom’s doing. Or maybe it is. When I was typing, if she didn’t want a nap, Lois used to dance. I should maybe say I’m kind of a dramatic typist. I had had to practice keeping my legs and feet still when Lois first got out of the sling, so she could lie on them while I typed. If they weren’t held down, my feet started tapping all by themselves. (Which wasn’t actually such a bad thing, because if she didn’t want a nap – and she way too often didn’t want a nap – she’d dance with my feet. This was a little distracting I admit, but I usually managed to keep typing.) She made great wheezy inhale noises when I was breathing in som ething especially wonderful that Grace was taking out of the oven, but that may just have been that she agreed with me. When I’d scratch my head or pull my hair and grunt while I was doing schoolwork I didn’t like (which tended to make the Headache worse too) she’d scratch and shake her head – and grunt. Sometimes it was more complicated than that – or maybe what I mean is it was harder to decide it didn’t mean anything. But when I was doing laundry she began to collect whatever small loose stuff she could around the house, shoes, magazines, dropped pencils, wet rain stuff hanging over the radiators, and including snaffling towels off the rails (which in theory were hung too high for her to reach), snuggle them around a while on the kitchen floor (I tried to rescue the towels in time), leave them while the washer ran, and then bring them outdoors and spread them out on the ground (sometimes this was kind of hard on the magazines) when I hung the stuff up to dry. This really did catch my attention because it seemed to me to say something about her attention span and her, you know, mental processes generally. It was way too complicated, you know? In fact it started making me think scary Dragons Are Intelligent thoughts so I concentrated on trying to prevent her from â€Å"washing† anything that would make more work for me. I told myself that baby critters are always getting into other things – especially things you don’t want them to get into – it’s what they do. It’s part of being a baby critter. It’s part of growing up. Half-grown raccoons are incredibly creative escape artists and nosy and boy can they get into trouble. It’s hardwired. Nothing to get paranoid about. Nope. Nothing at all. And I’ve said she was noisy. Well, I talked to her a lot. That went back to that very first day, that awful day when I found her, when we were like both yattering from our different traumas. Well, same trauma, different angle. It’s like we’d just never stopped, it’s just the frenzy level had dropped some, and most of our yattering now was pretty cheerful. A little overwrought sometimes maybe but pretty cheerful. I’ve told you she had learned really quickly to â€Å"talk† during pauses in a conversation – the one time she consistently broke this rule was while I was in the shower. (She’d gone on not liking to get wet.) I always left the bathroom door half open so she could follow me in if she wanted to (which she always did, but I kept hoping . . . ) and she talked to/with the shower. I could hear her – the water going whoosh whoosh whoosh and Lois going kind of woooosh whoosh waaaaaaaash wiiiiiiiiiiiish, as if she assumed the shower was either one of my noises or a major monologist, and didn’t quite understand why it only made this one sort of splash-and-splatter-punctuated roaring cry. So if there was no one else at home sometimes I sang. Now there is a noise to drive the birds from the trees and the dragons into the deepest caverns of the Bonelands. Even Lois’ mimicry boggled at trying to do the dragonlet version of a shower and Jake singing. Although she did do a good hum. In fact her humming was the nearest of all her noises to any of the noises humans make. Sometimes we hummed together. But I think I played with her more once Martha and Eleanor were in on it. Things just felt a little less harrowing. That being-on-the-same-side thing even made me feel a little more at ease with the child welfare people, and I swear child welfare people pick up the smell of fear like mean dogs do and have no clue that the fear might be of them. (Mean dogs know perfectly well that it is. We’ve – Smokehill I mean – only ever had maybe two mean dogs since I’ve been old enough to notice, and they don’t last past the first snap. One of the families with kids, one of the kids ran away when Dad banned the dog, and then the rest of the family gave up and left too. More of Dad’s graduate students. He doesn’t have the best luck with his graduate students.) Eleanor nearly ruined everything though by deciding to be helpful by adding corroborative testimony, like in police shows on TV. She asked the doctor if he couldn’t do anything else for my eczema (his creams hadn’t worked, not surprisingly, but also because I hadn’t bothered to use them) because she was sure it hurt more than I admitted. Thanks, Eleanor. Maybe it worked out okay though, since the doctor knew that Eleanor was a busybody. So maybe that Eleanor pretended she knew it was eczema was corroborative testimony. (I taught her to say â€Å"corroborative testimony† and she forgave me for being ticked off that she’d opened her big mouth about it at all.) Anyway. Lois used to lie on my feet at supper (everybody else carefully and awkwardly keeping their feet out of the way around Billy and Grace’s little kitchen table, especially after she started to generalize about people and wanted to be friends with everybody she saw. Even if you were unsympathetically wearing shoes she’d put her hot, scratchy nose up your pantleg to be sociable) which was usually the four of us humans plus one dragon. Except when Dad couldn’t get away or Billy was on duty or aggravating some investigators or checking what the diggers and builders were (still) doing to the caves after they’d closed down for the day (work on this had slowed down a lot since the scandal started). And then sometimes we had – Jane or Kit or Whiteoak – or Nate or Jo, who Billy’d added to the dragonsitting/Jake’s Sanity Conservation rota – and people having a meal together talk (except Whiteoak of course. I learned â⠂¬Å"thank you† and â€Å"please pass the whatever† in Arkhola from having Whiteoak for dinner. Even Whiteoak wasn’t going to risk being rude to Grace I think). Maybe they talk especially when they aren’t completely comfortable with each other, and Dad and I hadn’t been completely comfortable with each other in years, and we also weren’t seeing as much of each other as we used to, so most of the time we talked a lot to cover up the silence. (Except of course if there’d just been a big meeting about what to do about the poacher’s parents – which nobody ever did tell me anything about, just by the way, until years later, when I asked Dad. He looked at me blankly for a minute and then gave a sort of hollow nonlaugh. â€Å"We didn’t figure anything out, that first meeting,† he said – and Dad doesn’t talk in italics all the time the way I do. â€Å"We didn’t figure anything out. We just sat around and moaned and shouted and tore our hair.† He stared into space for a minute, frowning. â€Å"It was pretty goddamn awful.†) It was a joke for a long time when, if a silence did manage to fall, we’d hear Lois doing her peeping and burbling under the table, which got gruffer and rougher as she got older. But I think I’m the only one of us humans who noticed that it wasn’t just getting gruffer and rougher, but it was starting to rise and fall in a rhythm – kind of a lot like the sound of people talking. I thought about this for a while, kind of hoping that someone else would notice too, but if anyone did they didn’t say anything to me. But dragon noises, as I say, are peculiar so probably only my ears could make anything about Lois’ sound effects seem familiar. It had been Eleanor’s remark about my goofiness that had really made me think about it. Between Lois and . . . between Lois and Lois it was really easy not to think about anything but getting through every hour as it came. So up till Martha and Eleanor met Lois I suppose I had kind of been thinking about Lois almost like a funny looking dog with strange habits. Snark imitated all kinds of human things and we all just said oh, what a clown. Eleanor made me realize that while I was just as goofy about Lois as I’d been about Snark, I was goofy about her differently. Not just because she wasn’t a dog. Not just because she was the first addition to my family after fifty percent of it had died. Not just because of the dreams. So one afternoon when I’d done more schoolwork than I could stand, and it was sunny outdoors, and we were alone at the cabin, I took her out (she waddled and murmured behind me, her scaly feet and the tip of her now steadily lengthening tail making a funny little scuttling noise on the kitchen linoleum like maybe there were several baby dragons following me instead of only one) and sat down on the ground with her and said, â€Å"Hey, Lois.† I said it very carefully and deliberately. â€Å"Heeeeeey† on a falling note and â€Å"Lois† as two distinct syllables, â€Å"Lo† higher and stronger and â€Å"is† dropping off and down. I didn’t sit on the ground with her so much any more because for some reason this got her all excited and she was too inclined to stick her face in my face and give me more eczema (what a good thing she wasn’t a face-licker), but it was a good way to get her attention. When she rushed over to touch her nose against mine I fended her off with a hand and said â€Å"Hey, Lois† again. She stopped trying to make face contact and looked at me as if she knew this was important. She didn’t have that squashy look of something that had been stepped on any more, and her head was beginning to look almost a little horsey, narrow at the muzzle and wider between the eyes. Her eyes were a little bulgy like an animal’s who expects to have a lot of peripheral vision, but they were also protected by some nobbly, bumpy ridges, so who knows. Maybe dragons see the world with a nice scalloped frame around it. Baby dragon eyelashes, by the way, are halfway to being spines, which means that when your baby dragon blinks its eyes when it’s falling asleep against your stomach, you feel like you’re being peeled. (Some of the spinal plates, the erectile ones, have slightly serrated edges too, which are in effect more like a cheese-grater.) I must have good resistance to pain or something. I never minded the eczema or the peeling nearly as much as I minded the di apers, and the diapers were over. She peeped at me. â€Å"Hey, Lois.† She peeped again, except it was more of a grumble. â€Å"Hey, Lois.† Another rumbly peep. But this one was a three-syllable peep, and the first syllable was longer than the other two. â€Å"Hey,† I said, more softly. â€Å"Lois.† And she answered a quieter three-syllable peep, and the long syllable fell down the scale and the first short syllable was higher and stronger and the second short syllable was lower and deeper. I looked at her and she looked at me. Sure, mynah birds can do better, but do they do better while you’re both straining with alertness at each other? It takes weeks to teach a parakeet to say its first words. The air was nearly humming around us, and the Headache tried to break out of my skull again, which it didn’t do so much as it used to except when I woke up from dreaming about big dragons and caves with weird lighting effects. I suppose I’d noticed before that the Headache tended to get worse when Lois and I seemed to be getting, you know, intense at each other. But I wasn’t thinking about that either. I did wonder occasionally if maybe it was a brain tumor, but weirdly since I’m so good at worrying about everything I could never really get going worrying about that. So I sat there looking at her with her looking at me. I was excited and thrilled and also . . . frightened and horrified. Frightened because it was like I was finally facing that I had this whole extra responsibility I’d only been trying to keep her alive, which had been more than enough, but now I’d been reminded, forcefully, that just feeding a wild orphan isn’t enough, and what do you teach a dragon about being a dragon? What was Lois trying to learn from the very funny-looking dragon she thought was her mom by mimicking the noises she (well, he) made? I had no idea. And nobody could tell me. And I had read Old Pete’s journals so often I knew them almost by heart and he couldn’t tell me either. And I hated the idea that the best Lois had to look forward to was growing up to live in some kind of cage and being dumbly fed by humans for the rest of her life because no one would’ve taught her how to be a dragon. Okay, Lois being alive was a miracle. I wanted more miracles. That’s all. I also perversely suddenly didn’t want any other humans to notice that Lois was trying to speak human. Add this to the long list of things I can’t really explain. I was afraid of . . . how their reactions might make me think about it, I guess. Just the fact that they’d have reactions (Dad would get all fascinated and remind me to keep careful notes and Billy would just nod slowly and go on with whatever he was doing) felt like someone putting a hand on your soap bubble: pop. (Although as soap bubbles go, Lois didn’t make the grade.) But I was realizing what it really meant that Lois was Lois to me first and a dragon second, however stupid that sounds, like I could forget 1,61. half a nanosecond that she was a dragon. But everybody else could afford to see her as a dragon. And this meant I saw her as . . . ? I had a lot of sleepless nights after that afternoon. While Lois snuffled and gurgled under the bedclothes. While I worried I also noticed – especially noticeable in an enclosed space like between your sheets – that her burps and farts smelled more and more like singe and char. I was sure Lois would be brokenhearted if she woke up one morning and discovered she’d fried me in her sleep . . . but what if she did? How to cite Dragonhaven CHAPTER FIVE, Essay examples

The Social Structure free essay sample

The Roots of the sasss Social Life The Great War was very essential in providing the stepping stones into life during the 1 sass as well as maintaining effects on the social atmosphere. In late 1918, the Great War had come to an end with the Allies achieving victory. This war had supposedly been the war to end all wars, and this victory brought confidence back home to the Americans. American troops came home at the end of 1918, and they came home to an America about to experience some of Its most prosperous years.With this confidence and energy, Americans led themselves into the sass with optimism, activity, and economic growth that lasted through the majority of the era. The Roaring Twenties, the Golden Twenties, the Harlem Renaissance, and the Jazz Age: all names given to this famous era. America was rich. Wall Street was successful day after day with the stock market soaring. The 1 sass was a time where tradition was tried and young men and women defied the traditionalist views. Along with this young and rowdy generation was the Prohibition era.Speakeasies across America were born, and bootlegging became a career for many. Americans would not give up their alcohol to any sort of constitutional amendment creating an active and ungenerous lifestyle of Americans during the night time. African-Americans made their mark on society during these times. The Harlem Renaissance brought out true African-American art through different visual arts, novels, dramas, short stories, and poetry. Call rights were still non-existent for the African-Americans, but many still freely expressed themselves. Some expressed themselves through music, especially jazz.The sass brought about the Jazz Age. Big names such as Louis Armstrong and Duke Longtime came to fame during this age of musical expression. America soared during the sass; its no wonder the era has been called the Roaring/Golden Twenties. Social life during this time was vastly different than any other era in American history. For instance, the daily life of Americans consisted of things that no other era has dealt with. American economy, the generational war, Prohibition, the Harlem Renaissance and the Jazz Age all served as cornerstones for shaping American society during the 1 9205. With many different aspects going into shaping the social life of the sass, the economy was the basis of it all. Domestic life had changed with the simple inventions and the mass production of different household products that are still used today: scum cleaners, refrigerators, the hair dryer, and etcetera. The consumer lifestyle was king during this time, and it was these simple household products that were vastly consumed. The strong economy changed family life: more students in school, kids were involved in more organizations, and, of course, no worry to put food on the table.With the strong economy, the people developed the mentality of living life to Its fullest. Edna SST. Vincent Malay described the sass lifestyle well In her poem First Fig: My candle burns at both ends; it will not last the night; but ah, my foes, and Oh, OFF economy that Americans were able to burn the candle at both ends. Although the Great War had come to an end, young American men came home to fight another war: a generational war. A generational difference had been formed between the rough and rowdy young generation and the traditionalist generation.Women during the Great War had tasted a bit of freedom being on their own while all of the men were across the ocean. This led to the birth of flappers during the sass: women who wore short skirts, bobbed their hair, and rebelled against almost any traditional rules. This new revolution would go on to affect far more than Just the decade, it would go on to affect the rest of history following the ass. The generational gap did not come about with each individual across America choosing to rebel, it spread rapidly through the media.Newspapers, magazines, and tabloids not only spread the flapper mentality, but also other national trends, ideas, and fashions. One example of media transforming the new generation was Dorothy Dies Advice to Women, one of many columns in daily newspapers for Dixie. In it she wrote, The old idea used to be that the way for a woman to help her husband was by Ewing thrifty and industrious, by peeling the potatoes a little thinner, and making over her old hats and frocks. But the woman who makes herself nothing but a domestic drudge S not a help to her husband. She is a hindrance. Writings such as this influenced the female crowd across the country to reform the way of life for young women and wives. This kind of writing also brought about an increase in married women considering that they werent as dependent upon their husbands anymore. The wife often carried her own Job giving the family two Jobs which were needed to maintain the consumer mentality during this time. The older generation, the traditionalists, did not agree with this new way of life.However, with the new generation becoming more independent, whatever the traditionalists had to say didnt carry much weight. The young adults of the sass were their own people which very much affected the social life during this time. Rebellion was not only taking place against the older generation, but also against the American government. The Prohibition Act had made its entrance into the constitution as the Eighteenth Amendment in 1920 abolishing the manufacture, transportation, and sale of liquor, beer, and wine throughout the United States.Many supported prohibition during its infant years. The big business men such as Henry Ford, John D. Rockefeller, and Andrew Carnegie all supported prohibition convinced that alcohol hindered the work of their employees. Along with these men were the Protestant churches fully supporting the moral values that prohibition was likely to maintain. However, the American people would not give up their alcohol. Prohibition was only able to make alcohol illegal, but it was not able to stop the distribution of alcohol. Bootlegging was the official name given to selling alcohol illegally.This act included those who independently made their own alcohol for themselves, but the major result of prohibition was organized crime being formed around bootlegging. The infamous AH Capons, also known as Surface, virtually controlled the city of Chicago through his gang of bootlegging. The flow of money was so great that he was able to pay off local police and even federal agents in order to keep his business afloat. Capons even had control over the mayoral elections when his men terrorized polling places, took chosen mayor won.Capons wasnt the only crime lord around though; rival gangs fought against Capons to gain control of Chicago. These gang wars led to bloodshed and mayhem all throughout Chicago. From 1926 to 1930, more than 300 mobsters were killed in various shootouts and bombings in the Chicago area. Gangs centered on bootlegging were found all across America striking fear into the American people. Capons and those like him had to have a major source of alcohol sales other than individual homes, and they did. Speakeasies exploded in their number during the sass which had a major impact on social life.It was here that alcohol was sold on a large scale. These were essentially bars, but they were illegal and not easy to get into. In a passage from Studs Trekkers Hard Times, Aleck Wilder recalls the New York City establishments he frequented during Prohibition: As soon as you walked in the door, you were a special person, you belonged to a special society. When Id bring a person in, it was like dispensing largesse. I was a big man. You had to know somebody who knew somebody. It had that marvelous movie-like quality, unreality. And the food was great. This special person mentality attracted many young Americans to the speakeasies. The sale of alcohol was accompanied with an upbeat atmosphere. Many locations had live music along with an area for dancing. From the inside, many speakeasies would not appear to be illegal considering how the people were loose and loud and uncaring that what they were doing was illegal. Speakeasies were the night end of the burning candle. The social life described so far has mainly been focused on the white Americans, but the African-American society experienced its own social advancement.The Harlem Renaissance was birthed in the sass, and it was the time when African- American artists of all different branches expanded. Literature, art, and music were used by the African-Americans to challenge the racism and stereotypes that were ere prevalent during this time. One of the most memorable writers from this time was Longboats Hughes. This African-American man helped in shaping the minds of aspiring African-American writers. Longboats Hughes said in his essay The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain, An artist must be free to choose what he does, certainly, but he must also never be afraid to do what he might choose. Hughes urged the African-American writers to never try to write like white people; rather, they should openly express themselves through their art. African-Americans were not equal to the white Americans, but Hughes instilled into the African-American immunity that they did not want to be like the white Americans; instead, they were to be their own people and express their own hearts. The Harlem Renaissance included the Jazz Age as well. Jazz and blues were one of the primary ways for African-Americans to express themselves.They were even able to perform among whites. The aforementioned speakeasies were the primary holds for the performances of different Jazz and blues artists as mentioned in Jazz: The First Century: Speakeasies, brothels, nightclubs, movie houses, and dance halls were proliferating all of them craving musical entertainment. The Jazz style of music served well at speakeasies creating an upbeat atmosphere that provided well for the upbeat crowd. Among the most famous African-American musicians during this time were Duke Longtime, Ella Fitzgerald, and Louis Armstrong.Duke Longtime said, The the moonlight in the back yard on a hot night or something said long ago. What Longtime said fit perfectly into what Hughes stood for and tried so hard to instill in the African-American society. Jazz focused not on what was current among the white folks, but it focused on the past generations and accomplishments of the African- Americans. The great prosperity and upbeat social life did not last to the end of the sass. The economy once again laid the foundation of the social life when the stock market crashed in October of 1929.By mid-November, the previous unemployment count of 700,000 had risen to 3 million. A crashing economy would drastically change the lifestyle that so many had acquired during the last ten years. The consumer lifestyle was dead. America would be coming off some of its most prosperous years into some of its worst economic years. It would not be until 1941 when America entered into the Second World War that America would re-establish itself as being an economic powerhouse. Though the sass ended with such disparity, the era affected American history in such a way that the effects are still prevalent today. Flappers were the epitome of feminism and brought about the drastic change in womens role in society. The flappers established women with a sense of independence. The Harlem Renaissance laid the foundations for the Civil Rights movement led by Martin Luther King Jar. ; a movement that took place thirty years later. And because of that, equality has not only been established for African-Americans in the United States, but equality has been established for all races in the United States. The Jazz Age revolutionized music in America.

Yeast Information Essay Example For Students

Yeast Information Essay Scientific name -Kingdom- Fungi, Phylum- Ascomycota Class- Ascomycetes Order- Saccharomycetaler, Family- Saccharomycetaceae, Genus- Saccharomyces, Species- CervisiaeDescription Yeast is a unicellular organism that lacks chloroplasts. They are so small that it cant be seen by the naked eye and they are so small that it would take 4000 of them lined up side by side to measure an inch. Habitat Yeast lives on and is nourished by dead or living plant or animal matter. The ideal conditions of yeast is high humidity and temperature, plus lots of food. In bad conditions though the yeast produces a second cell wall for protection and the yeast contents divides into four parts; the parts are called ascospores. Then when favorable conditions return the ascospores burst to reproduce. Yeast gets their food from simple sugars, such as prutrose and destrose. These sugars are found in grapes and other fruits. They abstract the sugars out of the fruit by breaking the fruit down to double sugars then breaking those down to simple sugars. In this process they produce alcohol and CO2.Life cycle Yeast reproduces by budding. We will write a custom essay on Yeast Information specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now This is where the adult yeast begins to swell on its surface. Then part of the parent begins to bud and a wall is formed between the parent and the new yeast. Then the new yeast may do one of two things. It may break away from the parent or it may stay attached to form a chain or a cluster. Budding is very quick. It takes about 20 minutes to produce new yeast.Importance Yeast is used in many different types of commercial uses. Some of them are in banking to get breads and cakes to rise, in beer production in Germany, and wine production. Wine producers dont use wild yeast because they have some unfavorable traits. So they kill off the wild yeast and use yeast that have been domesticated to the needs of the production process.Bibliography Stew Scherer Yeast.com, Yahoo, Windows 95, 2-11-99

To Put It Bluntly . . .

To Put It Bluntly . . . To Put It Bluntly . . . To Put It Bluntly . . . By Maeve Maddox Adam Rubock asks for a discussion of the difference between saying something bluntly, and blatantly saying something. The word blunt came into the language around 1200 with the meaning â€Å"dull, obtuse.† At that time a â€Å"blunt person† would have been a stupid person. In the 1580s blunt took on the meaning â€Å"abrupt of speech or manner.† This is closer to the way we use the word now. The third definition of blunt given by the OED is â€Å"Rudely; without ceremony or delicacy; abruptly, curtly.† When we say that so-and-so is â€Å"blunt,† we mean that the person puts thoughts into words without regard to the sensibilities of listeners or readers. In speaking of an object, such as a â€Å"blunt sword† or a â€Å"blunt instrument,† the sense is still â€Å"dull† or â€Å"not sharp.† blatant The OED gives these definitions of blatant: Of persons or their words: Noisy; offensively or vulgarly clamorous; bellowing. Clamorous, making itself heard. In recent usage; obtrusive to the eye (rather than to the ear as in orig. senses); glaringly or defiantly conspicuous; palpably prominent or obvious. According the Etymology Online Dictionary, the word blatant was coined by Sir Edmund Spenser in The Faerie Queen: to describe a thousand-tongued monster representing slander; probably suggested by L. blatire to babble. In the 1650s blatant came to mean â€Å"noisy in an offensive and vulgar way.† The current sense of â€Å"obvious, glaringly conspicuous† is from 1889. Both words are popular on the web. Blatant seems to be associated with the act of lying in particular. A search for â€Å"blatant lie† gets 136,000 hits. â€Å"Blatant liar† gets 83,400 hits. The cliche â€Å"to put it bluntly† gets 4,860,000 hits. Want to improve your English in five minutes a day? Get a subscription and start receiving our writing tips and exercises daily! Keep learning! Browse the Vocabulary category, check our popular posts, or choose a related post below:100 Whimsical WordsPeople versus PersonsHyphenation in Compound Nouns

Using Social Media to Dramatically Boost Your Efficiency [PODCAST]

Using Social Media to Dramatically Boost Your Efficiency [PODCAST] Reposting your best content on social media is a best practice: the conversions and conversations are like gold. You might be wondering about the best way to go about re-sharing content. Today, we’re going to be talking to Christin Kardos, the social media and community manager at Convince and Convert, the #1 content marketing blog in the world, according to Content Marketing Institute. Today, we’re going to talk about evergreen content, how to capitalize on incredible opportunities, and thought on whether social media automation is the right tool for you to increase productivity. You won’t want to miss today’s show! Information about Convince and Convert and what Christin does there. Evergreen content: What it is and how to leverage it to your advantage. How you can tweak and update your content to make it rank for certain keywords. Best practices when it comes to sharing previously published content. What content curation is and how Christin handles it at Convince and Convert. Thoughts on balancing your own content and others’ content, as well as why it’s important to focus on quality first and foremost. The benefits and potential downfalls of social media automation. Christen’s best advice for marketers wanting to get started with automation and reposting content. Links and Resources: Christin on Twitter Convince and Convert 105 Types of Content to Fill Your Editorial Calendar Feedly Pocket Send a Screenshot of Your Review Here If you liked today’s show, please subscribe on iTunes to The Actionable Content Marketing Podcast! The podcast is also available on SoundCloud,  Stitcher, and Google Play. Quotes by Christin: â€Å"Rule number one is if it’s not good, don’t share it.† â€Å"We focus on the â€Å"and therefore† aspect when we share content there are others who are actually the newsbreakers.† â€Å"Being useful is the best thing you can do.†

Global Warming is real Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Global Warming is real - Essay Example The earth’s atmosphere contains these trace gases, whose purpose is to prevent some of the heat of the sun to escape into the atmosphere when it is reflected by the Earth. This helps maintaining a certain degree of acceptable temperature on the Earth. When these gases rise in concentration, they start absorbing sun’s heat which results in rise in temperature to an unacceptable degree. Due to the rise in temperature, much of the living organisms are affected, most of which die. The rise in the concentration of these greenhouse gases results in the Earth getting warmer gradually. The debate whether global warming is real or not is going on, and it is being researched whether increase in the level of greenhouse gases like CO2 will eventually lead to man’s death by warming up the Earth to an unacceptable level. It is argued that: global warming is as important an environment issue as air pollution or ozone depletion is, and needs serious consideration so as to save t he Earth and the life. Global warming is real because there are many stakeholders. Humans are being affected by this problem, and will continue to get affected if it is not solved. Human beings are the most important stakeholders of global warming, and are also the cause of it. They will have to understand that their communities are at stake due to abrupt rise in sea level, massive storms and hurricanes, and heat and cold waves. To state some facts, the year 2007 brought worst floods in the history of many countries like Malaysia, UK, North Korea, and other African countries. Pakistan saw the worst flood in 2010, which took millions of lives and took the shelter of thousands of people. After human beings, the next important stakeholders are the animals and plants. Some animals are able to move to places of acceptable temperature, but some are not able to cross the mountain barriers and waters. Plants cannot move, so they die. Another stakeholder is the global governments whose visio n toward solving the issue of global warming depends upon the views of their citizens. Many of these governments have not taken satisfactory moves toward the solution of global warming, but there are other examples like Kyoto Protocol of 1997 which planned to counter the climate change issue (Cooper, para.3). The Southern Baptist Convention of June 2007, which was considered as the country’s largest Protestant denomination, raised concerns about the fact that global warming will continue to affect the poor of the country, because even if steps are taken to counter global warming by reducing the number of factories that emit CO2, this will result in an increase in the cost of energy that will ultimately affect the poor. Global warming is real also because it is resulting in many climate changes. Earth, today, is much warmer than it was 100 years ago. The Earth's average temperature has risen above 1 degree Fahrenheit during the last century, and nearly twice in many parts of t he Arctic. One way the increasing warmth of the Earth can be observed is by observing the trees. In warmer conditions, the trees get thicker and form thick rings. Comparing new trees with older ones can help us understand the difference. Other ways include experimentation with the sediment that rests in the bottom of the oceans and seas. Scientists observe these sediments which contain particles and fossils that tell a lot of information about the climate the time when they settle down at the bottom. Global warming also increases the sea level. High sea level is dangerous for communities living at coastal line because there would be constant fear of flooding. Rise in temperature will result in the melting of ice on the ice pole. These climate changes are

Report Lab Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words

Lab Report Example However some technical problems such as weight of the arm and unforeseen parameters of the robot going out of the maze were encountered in execution of the project. The objective of the project is to enable a robot to look for a ball and pick it up while avoiding black lines. The goal is divided into a logical sequence that enables the robot to achieve its goal. The sequence flow is as follows. The necessary parameters for the robot are set, these include the sensors and motors that enable the robot to move. The robot then looks for a ball. It then estimates and determines the distance to the ball. It moves through the distance and then picks up the ball. The robot does all this while avoiding the black lines using the accompanying sensor light. Robotics programming is a developing technology that utilizes principles from varying fields of science. These include mechatronics, electrical engineering, psychology and computer science .The merging of these fields of study produces the fi ctionalized concept of a robot that has intellect and a nature of its own and works hand in hand with man. Creation of robots from the programming aspects to the development of the mechanical parts has a very diverse effect on man-kind than any other technology that has come about. Robotics poses different arguments from a range of different perspectives that affects human beings. These effects are experienced in global, societal, economic and environmental views that determine the advancement and integration of robotic technology in day to day human lives. These aspects have raised arguments and debates in these fields that have seldom been settled. Advancement in robotics is only brought about by regarding these aspects in humanity. As with every technology, the economic aspect is highly regarded. The robotics project’s possibility of making work easier for people and at the same time improving the livelihoods of the same people is the most important part of the economic vi ew of new technology. Robotics programming has many varied views both positive and negative with regard to the effects and results of robotic technology. Positive aspects of robotic engineering within industrial and commercial aspects include automation of manufacturing, easing the hard labour for people and speeding up the process of delivery of products to the market. Robotic automotive technology and application of mechatronics principles can also improve the creation of safety systems especially in cars which can automatically and intelligently detect dangerous situations and react accordingly (Schweitzer,2). This helps save lives. However with the integration of robotics, the most negative economic aspect is the replacement of human beings by robots. This increases cases of unemployment and thus making robotics technology highly unpopular among operational and technically skilled people. Thus the development of intelligent machines is highly limited to jobs that human beings ca nnot do or will not do and also be based on a foundation of no competition with human beings(Schweitzer,5). The machines should be able to assist and not remove people from work. Robots built for services to people such as robots for lawn mowing and cleaning are beneficial to people as they speed up these services. The economic view more or less dictates the advancement of robotic technology. If it does not improve the lives of people and merely takes their jobs away and replacing them, it would be highly unlikely for the robots

Indian dance Essay Example for Free

Indian dance Essay Kathak is the one of eight forms of Indian classical dances perform by men and women, originated from northern indian, known as kathakars or storytellers. The styles of dance have its unique character from the rhythmic footwork with rhythms that he or she stomps out barefoot on the floor, accented with many bells worn around the ankles ( and from seeing the guest artist I can say there were more than 100 bells around her ankles making lots of noise to go with the beats of the drum), spectacular spins, and also every dance piece has a story behind it. A traditional kathak performance features a solo dancer on a stage, surrounded on all sides by the audience. The repertoire includes amad ,the dramatic entrance of the dancer on stage. Male dancers perform in Persian costume of wide skirts and round caps, while female dancers wear a traditional Indian garment called a sari. Back in the day women are the one who preserved this traditional dance more than the men. Kathak are typically performs by one dancer surrounded by a group of musicians. The solo dancer performs the parts of all the characters in the story. For example the guest artist were going back and forth rapidly from one of her dance piece between two characters. She did it without changing her positions on stage, changes in gestures and facial expressions signal instantly which character they take on at that moment. Before the guest artist started her dance so did a pronom giving thanks to all five elements or also known as the god, space, wind, fire, water and earth. Dance is on the earth, the eyes wherever the eyes are the mind, where the mind there are feelings. The way Antara gave thank to the god were a little different from what we normally did in class, with more steps and she also added some singing and harmony into the rituals. Based on what Antara told us, kathak is a very intimate dance where it is a three ways conversation, between dancers with musicians and dancers with the audience. The tempo for kathak consist of 16 beats. Dancers sometime precise the beats while dancing. With kathak you can play with the rhythms, there is no set rhythms. Kathak consisted of a lot of feet movement and with that the bells around Antara added a more prominent movements. Even though the focused on her foot because of all the bells, we can still see that shes using her upper body. The arms movement were very smooth and elegant, her eyes moved according to her hands gestures. Antara played the Theka which looked and sound like the accordion, along with singing and dancing. The Theka did not stop Antara from doing her incredible spins and keeping the tempo while doing all these things at once. Stomping her foot very fast and loud on the floor seems to be away for her to keep her tempo. Even when she was stomping her foot her hands and head was still doing a lot of movement to help tell the story. During her performance she uses a lot of phrases in Indian and it was hard for me to understand or catch what she was saying. But she later on explained that it is just like how we counts beats in america instead of using numbers, in Indian dance they used the language of the drums. Her right foot always ended in the front to help her keep up with the beat and also so that her body can face the audience and interacted with them. Her dance move was not all fast but it was very precise and very professional. Antara dances very elegant and somehow I can see her personality throw the way she moved the way she carry herself on all the dance pieces. She is a great dancer and a great guest artist for the style, she makes me want to learn more about the style and actually go see her performance in San Francisco.

Natural Night Vision Essays -- Biology

Admit it, night vision is an ability that we would all enjoy having. Who would not want to be able to see the world at night without the use of fancy instrumentation, like night-vision goggles? Unfortunately, humans become colorblind at night because their eyes switch from normal daytime vision to a color-insensitive rod system. Unlike humans, a lot of other animals have the ability to see in the dark. This nocturnal ability is a major subject of research because scientists want to know what causes it, what methodology lies behind it, and what limitations there are. Alnut Kelber, Anna Balkenius, and Eric. J. Warrant studied the night-time vision of a nocturnal hawkmoth, Deilephila elpenor. They wanted to know if the hawkmoths can truly see colors at night, or if they are using other means to find the right kind of flowers to feed from. For example, humans cannot see colors at night and therefore have a harder time differentiating between objects using vision alone. However, a person could find food in a dark room using his or her other senses, such as smell or taste, or could rely on colorless vision to choose food based on its shape. The scientists tested a series of experiments to show that hawkmoths use color-vision at night, as opposed to reverting to their other senses like humans do. Deilephila elpenor moths were trained to associate a sugar reward with a color, either blue or yellow by feeding from colored artificial flowers at a light intensity equivalent to late dusk. Deilephilia Elpenor Moth The moths were tested (without a sugar reward) at five different light intensities ranging from mid-dusk to dim starlight, to see if they could pick the training color from eight different shades of gray... ...we have a limited field of vision, and we can’t see in the back of our head. Continuous Visual Stream humans only get one shot to allow their photoreceptors to see an image, the images come through the eyes into the brain in a constant stream and are lost almost immediately, not stored. Advantages brain power that could be used to store up images to help see color in the dark can instead be used to make a clearer, better-resolved picture Disadvantages humans need more light to see color Photoreceptor Types humans also have 3 types, but: red, blue, and green Advantages we have trichromatic vision, which helps us differentiate objects and appreciate aesthetically pleasing sights Disadvantages we can’t see in the UV spectrum, and there are other animals such as butterflies which have 4 or 5 different photoreceptor types and can see more colors than us

Kubler Ross Essay

After reading Kubler-Ross’s On Life after Death, I must say, it’s definitely opened my eyes to a new perspective, and made me realize, that I too, will leave this earth one day. Kubler-Ross was the first in her playing field to open up the subject matter of death. She was able to bring about her ways of ideas through her seminars on what life, death, and transition is. In her counseling of and research on dying patients, Kubler-Ross brings about five stages of dying that an individual experiences when they leave their cocoon. These five stages are denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I think many different individuals can benefit from reading this book, no matter who you are and no matter what your profession is. In this book, Kubler-Ross has mini chapters that are basically a discussion with patients and clients to express the key issues surrounding their illness, where some of the patients know they are certain they will die, and this is where Kubler-Ross exercises one to one therapy to assist throughout the process. A few different topics come up throughout the book about incurably sick patients, near death experiences, and incomplete business. I remember when my grandma passed away, prior to her dying, she’d been through several open heart surgeries, a leg amputation, Parkinson’s disease, and a tremendous amount of stress. Everyone in the family observed and just watched my grandma as she went through Kubler-Ross’s stages. Before something else would arise with my grandma, you can just tell she was in denial about whatever was next to happen. Everyone in the family was very down and out, especially my mom, and she was the strongest one and was the one to take care of my grandmas the most. But she would never let my grandma see her upset; she’d wait until she got home before she cried. Kubler-Ross mentions that it is usually a temporary guard and will eventually be able to reach the stage of acceptance (p. 21). Kubler-Ross points out that when you are angry, it can’t really be sugar coated. And when you have an upset or angry individual in a family, it will make its rounds and the mood will just linger amongst those that are there. During this time it’s important to be very liberal to the way others feel. The process of being open-minded to others will aid in expressing the wishes of the dying patient. I now understand that in more cases than not, the rationale for dying is connected with bargaining for more time. Bargaining, which is one of Kubler-Ross’s (5) stages, is when the individual thinks that if they would have done something differently, God would have given him/her more time to live. I feel we can learn a lot from this section in our day-to-day lives. We all ask ourselves if only and if we are struck with an illness, would we fight for the time we have and try to make it worthwhile. If we did not live with such suffering, like my grandmother had, we may lead different lives. The ways each person individually lives him/her life may be focused on materialistic values or it can be of faith in who we are and faith in God. I do believe that when any individual comes into contact with going through someone passing, it’s ok to be upset, and it’s expected for one to suffer from a heightened state of depression. As human beings, we can make a decision to let that depression take charge of us, or we can choose to accept death. To resolve most conflicts in our lives when we are dying is when we are able to accept the unavoidable events that transpire. It’s very important to be able to come to some terms of agreement with events that happen in our lives not just when death occurs, but also in our day to day lives in this world. If nothing is absorbed in one’s mind after reading these short essays in this book, you will learn to take what each day brings as a new day starts, and to live for the moment. My mom always tells me to not take things for granite, be grateful, because we never know when it’s our time to go, and that God brought us into this world, and he can take you out. I think this book mentions several personal stories, which is a good thing because whoever is reading the book has the ability to identify with the experiences. The book gives you an opportunity to become stronger reading about others experiences as you go through unforeseen events in your own life. One example from the book is the mother whose husband left her with the needy children, and she struggled with the word â€Å"retarded†, and tried to understand the purpose of having a child that was like a vegetable. She goes through several stages with God, and then finds a true meaning to have the child. She identifies herself with her child and talks to her godmother, and she writes a poem, titled â€Å"To My Godmother† (p. 23). The poems express the mother’s feelings of acceptance and her will to continue with her life even though she had a very needy child. An individual that is experiencing similar experiences may read this book and feel comforted in reading the poem, knowing that if someone else could show such strength and hope during hardship then they can as well. These readings clearly can be therapeutic to clients who are  experiencing and dealing with these issues in their own lives. However, this book presents a weakness in that Kubler-Ross can at times display a mixed tone that may come across as her showing more empathy in one story and more clinical in others. I think this book can be woven into psychotherapy a few different ways. The therapist could implement different parts of the book as reflection exercises for clients. Some experiences shared in this book can help clients gain insight into their feelings as they face dying either themselves or through some else’s experience. As mentioned previously, this book will have you taking one day at a time, and dealing with what each day brings as it comes. Kubler-Ross was an innovator in her field and opened the doors to communicating about death. I learned that death is a process and mostly filled with grief, and when loved ones are suffering from an illness, or whatever the case may be, we need to be aware of Kubler-Ross’s five stages as the individual goes through them, and think about how it is going to have an effect on us in the process.