Greek Goddess Athena, Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom

Greek Goddess Athena, Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom She summarizes huge numbers of the Greeks endowments to Western culture, from theory to olive oil to the Parthenon. Athena, little girl of Zeus, joined the Olympians in an emotional way and figured in many establishing fantasies, remembering taking a functioning part for the Trojan War. She was the benefactor of the city of Athens; its notorious Parthenon was her holy place. Furthermore, as the goddess of shrewdness, the procedure of war, and expressions of the human experience and artworks (farming, route, turning, weaving, and embroidery), she was one of the most significant divine beings to the antiquated Greeks. The Birth of Athena Athena is said to have developed full grown from the head of Zeus, however there is a backstory. One of Zeus numerous loves was an Oceanid named Metis. At the point when she got pregnant, the King of Gods recollected the risk he presented to his own dad, Cronos, and thus, how Cronos managed his dad Ouranos. Careful about proceeding with the pattern of patricide, Zeus gulped his darling. Be that as it may, Metis, in the haziness of Zeus inside, kept on conveying her youngster. After some time, the King of Gods caught an imperial cerebral pain. Calling upon the metalworker god Hephaestus (some mythsâ say it was Prometheus), Zeus asked that his head be part open, whereupon sprang dark peered toward Athena in her wonder. Fantasies About Athena Befitting the supporter of one of Hellas most prominent city-states, Greek goddess Athena shows up in numerous exemplary legends. Probably the most well known ones include: Athena and Arachne: Here, the Goddess of the Loom takes a gifted yet egotistic human down a peg, and by changing Arachne into little, eight-legged weaver, develops the bug. The Gorgon Medusa: Another story of Athenas wrathful side, the destiny of Medusa was fixed when this delightful priestess of Athena was charmed by Poseidon in the goddess own sanctuary. Snakes for hair and a freezing look resulted. The Contest for Athens: Once again pitting the dim looked at goddess against her uncle Poseidon, the challenge for the support of Athens was chosen for the god who offered the best blessing to the city. Poseidon delivered a radiant (salt water) spring, yet shrewd Athena skilled an olive tree-a wellspring of natural product, oil, and wood. She won. The Judgment of Paris: In the unenviable situation of making a decision about a wonder challenge between Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, the Trojan Paris put his cash on the one Romans would call Venus. His prize: Helen of Troy, nã ©e Helen of Sparta, and the hatred of Athena, who might energetically back the Greeks in the Trojan War. Athena Fact File Occupation: Goddess of Wisdom, Warcraft, Weaving, and Crafts Different Names: Pallas Athena, Athena Parthenos, and the Romans called her Minerva Qualities: Aegis-a shroud with the head of Medusa upon it, skewer, pomegranate, owl, protective cap. Athena is portrayed as dark looked at (glaukos). Forces of Athena: Athena is the goddess of knowledge and specialties. She is the benefactor of Athens. Sources: Antiquated hotspots for Athena include: Aeschylus, Apollodorus, Callimachus, Diodorus Siculus, Euripides, Hesiod, Homer, Nonnius, Pausanias, Sophocles and Strabo. A Son for a Virgin Goddess: Athena is a virgin goddess, yet she has a child. Athena is credited with being part-mother of Erichthonius, a half-snake half-man animal, through an endeavored assault by Hephaestus, whose seed spilled on her leg. At the point when Athena cleared it off, it tumbled to earth (Gaia) who turned into the other part-mother. The Parthenon: The individuals of Athens fabricated an extraordinary sanctuary for Athena on the acropolis, or high point, of the city. The sanctuary is known as the Parthenon. In it was a goliath gold and ivory sculpture of the goddess. During the yearly Panathenaia celebration, a parade was made to the sculpture and she was dressed in another outfit. More: Since Athena was conceived without a mother sprung from her dads head in a significant homicide preliminary, she concluded that the job of the mother was less fundamental in creation than the job of the dad. In particular, she agreed with the matricide Orestes, who had murdered his mom Clytemnestra after she had slaughtered her better half and his dad Agamemnon.

Describe how two businesses are organised free essay sample

Tesco is a business which sells truly everything. In this report I will recognize the key partners, the reason for the business, business division, and business scale and business possession. Tesco was established in 1919 by Jack Cohen from a market slow down in East London. Throughout the years Tesco’s has developed and they currently work in 12 nations around the globe, utilize more than 530,000 individuals and serve countless clients consistently. What is the reason for the business? The primary reason Tesco serves is providing wide assortments of merchandise which it sells, both available and on the web. It likewise offers budgetary administrations, for example, its own Visa, individual advances and different kinds of protection, notwithstanding giving a home conveyance administration to its online customers. Tesco sells items from the basic food item segment as far as possible up to the electronic segment. Tesco additionally gives the clients administrations, for example, eye registration and protection Which division is Tesco? Tesco is a Tertiary segment business as it gives to the clients and not makes the items. We will compose a custom article test on Portray how two organizations are sorted out or on the other hand any comparative point explicitly for you Don't WasteYour Time Recruit WRITER Just 13.90/page It is a personal business this implies it is a business possessed secretly. Tesco is a worldwide business with branches even in China and India. It’s a huge business. Business proprietorship Partnership, Tesco is an organization since it is a huge business with a large number of branches everywhere throughout the world. Tesco has a huge number of accomplices, this is on the grounds that Tesco needs assets to maintain the business and purchase the items constrained obligation. Restricted risk is the point at which the proprietor of the business isn't liable for the obligations consequently his own things can't be taken from the bank, though boundless obligation implies that your own assets are detracted from you in the event that you are paying off debtors.

The Class of 2015 Graduates from MIT

The Class of 2015 Graduates from MIT On Friday, June 5th, the Class of 2015 graduated from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology at the  149th commencement ceremony in the Institutes history. At and by way of the ceremony, 1,054 undergraduates and 1,719 graduate students became MIT alumni, an association that now includes ~131,000 living alumni all across the world. We are very, very proud of them. The commencement address was delivered by Megan Smith 86 SM 88, the Chief Technology Officer of the United States. Before becoming the CTO of the USA, Megan worked at Google, where she oversaw Google[x] and Google.org, and as an early employee and eventual CEO of PlanetOut, an LGBT media organization. As an MIT undergraduate, Smith was a member of the student team that built a solar car and drove it across the Australian outback in the first Cross-Continental Solar Car race. One of the very most important things in our school’s history is something that’s not in the motto [of mind and hand], Smith told graduates: its heart. What I mean by heart is not just love and kindness. I mean wonder and discovery, it’s openness, it’s inclusivity, creativity, passion, obsession, service. On the morning of commencement, I too addressed something to the Class of 2015 as well, with a post on the wall of the class Facebook group, which has been active since they were admitted in December 2010. I am going to repost it as I wrote it: raw, and unedited, and entirely from the heart: hi yall right, most of you are probably struggling into weird robes and wizard hats and getting ready to get in line to get in line to get in line again. but it wasnt all that long ago that you were all bumbling around in this group like a bunch of puppies, all small and excitable and if truth be told somewhat unpleasant smelling and not yet potty trained but nonetheless probably worth it to welcome into our home. you all were the second class that i helped admit but the first one where i was really involved or had any idea what was going on or what this place was and what you would all one day mean to it (and to me). and over the past few years, including a period of time where i myself enrolled as a student and become acutely aware of the dual meaning of IHTFP, you all came to mean more than i can say. i graduated in summer 2013, and it probably took me until fall 2014 before i started feeling like myself again; until i had decompressed enough from the experience that i could really synthesize who i had been and what the Institute had made me into a unified person i could recognize in the mirror. as i grad student, when i was at my lowest, i sat down with one of my former advisees and apologized for admitting him. i said that he could have gone anywhere else and he would have been happier and i felt guilty i helped make the case why he ought to come to MIT. and he politely told me i was a condescending idiot and that he *could* have gone to plenty of other places, but he chose here because he wanted to be broken down and rebuilt, and sometimes it sucked, but thats what was happening. and thats when i realized that all of you (whether or not you are graduating today, and no matter what is happening next) are more wonderful, capable, intelligent, enduring people than i had ever fully apprehended or appreciated. i wrote this to the students in cms.400 this past spring, but it really holds true for all of you: MIT is a hard place, made all the harder for the resonant, omnipresent, pounding self-consciousness of how hard it is. This semester more than most. At MIT in general, and this semester specifically, you have all been through an experience that has marked you deeply, even as you endured it. The etymology of the word endure traces to a 1382 English translation of Acts 19:9: Summe weren endurid, or maad hard. But the word has two distinct meanings: to be made callous and indifferent, or to become sturdy, robust, strengthened. As a grad student (and in the immediate afterward), I struggled, not always successfully, to resist the pull of the former in favor of the latter. Whether you graduate in a few weeks, or in a few years, I hope that you can do that too. i dont sleep with my grad rat on. one reason is so that, when i get up every morning, and get ready to go out into the world, the small ritual of slipping it on reminds me to be my best person: the most intelligent, rigorous, enduring, yes, but also the most humane, the most empathetic, the person most worthy of the privileges and obligations that a place like MIT confers and also a place like MIT needs. because the rest of the world is in desperate need of people who are all of those things: intelligent *and* kind, hardworking *and* humane, capable *and* considerate, etc. the ring is not necessary for this kind of reflection, of course, but i have personally found it a useful shibboleth. when you go to turn your rat around today, please, take a moment, just a moment, to think about how you will make the world suck a little less when youre out there in it. because thats really all any of us can do on a day to day basis: try to make the world suck a little less. in the amber spyglass, will and lyra are told: And if you help everyone else in your worlds to do that, by helping them to learn and understand about themselves and each other and the way everything works, and by showing them how to be kind instead of cruel, and patient instead of hasty, and cheerful instead of surly, and above all how to keep their minds open and free and curious then tldr the world will be ultimately OK, or as OK as it can be, and this is what you can do. and this isnt mawkish or or maudlin or sentimental because it is so painfully and incredibly true. i am going to go now, because i am working your commencement, and it would probably be a good idea to put on pants. i will see many of you there. but please know that i am more grateful than i can say for having the chance to know yow, and more hopeful for the world that you are all about to enter. me I will miss the Class of 2015 dreadfully. So it goes. But MIT has had them for long enough. Now they belong to the world. the commencement commences Megan Smith addresses the graduates Blogger  Chris M. (originally 12, but graduated 15 after taking some time off to start his company) Blogger (and first generation graduate)  Natnael G. 15 Blogger Connie H. 15 Blogger (and LUChA member) Ana V. 15 Blogger Chelsea R.  (originally 14, but took some time off on medical leave for mental health) Blogger  Danny B.D. 15   Zach B. 15, former student of mine and first generation graduate Mina H. 15, admissions office student worker and first generation graduate Pauline V. 15, w/ Chancellor Barnhardt, mutually admiring their excellent decorative headwear/headhair Walter M. 15, former admissions student ambassador, Credit for Reddit TA, and first generation graduate Karinna V. 15 #NailedIt w/ her mortarboard decoration Hannah W. 15, former student of mine and singer in the MIT Chorallaries Dextina B. 15, Times Scholar and BSU member Jack Q. 15, my freshman advisee and O.G. Maine Boy (hi Wendy!) Shanasia S. 15, who was in my MITES group in 2010 David S. 15, former student of mine and semiprofessional troll, on the Internet and also IRL Royal M. 15, first generation graduate; I read his application back in 2010 Estefania A. 15, LUChA member and member of my MITES group in 2010 Ryan A. 15, former student of mine who yesterday made his childhood dream of graduating from MIT come true Post Tagged #Commencement

What Is the Schachter-Singer Theory of Emotion

The Schachter-Singer theory of emotion, also known as the two-factor theory of emotion, states that emotions are a product of both physiological and cognitive processes. Key Takeaways: Schachter-Singer Theory of Emotion According to the Schachter-Singer theory, emotions are the result of both physiological and cognitive processes.In a famous 1962 study, Schachter and Singer investigated whether people would respond differently to a shot of adrenaline depending on the context they found themselves in.While later research hasn’t always supported Schachter and Singer’s findings, their theory has been incredibly influential and has inspired many other researchers. Overview According to the Schachter-Singer theory, emotions are a result of two factors: Physical processes in the body (such as activation of the sympathetic nervous system, for example), which researchers refer to as â€Å"physiological arousal.† These changes can include things like having your heart start beating faster, sweating, or trembling.A cognitive process, in which people try to interpret this physiological response by looking at their surrounding environment to see what could be causing them to feel this way. For example, if you notice your heart beating faster, you might look around your environment to see what is causing it. If you’re at a party with friends, you’d be more likely to interpret this feeling as happiness—but if you were just insulted by someone, you’d be more likely to interpret this feeling as anger. Of course, many times this process occurs quickly (outside of our conscious awareness), but it can become conscious—especially if there’s not an immediately obvious situational factor to account for how we’re feeling. Historical Background Prior to the development of Schachter and Singer’s two-factor theory, two of the main theories of emotion were the James-Lange theory and the Cannon-Bard theory. The James-Lange theory states that emotions are the result of physiological responses in the body, while the Cannon-Bard theory states that physiological responses and emotional responses occur at the same time. Both the Schachter-Singer and James-Lange theories suggest that bodily responses are an integral part of our experience of an emotion. However, unlike the James-Lange theory, and like the Cannon-Bard theory, the Schachter-Singer theory states that different emotions can share similar patterns of physiological responses. According to Schachter and Singer, we look to our environment to try to figure out what is causing these physiological responses—and different emotions can result depending on the context. Schachter and Singer’s Study In a famous 1962 study, Stanley Schachter and Jerome Singer tested whether the same type of physiological activation (receiving a shot of adrenaline) could have different effects on people depending on the situational context. In the study, participants (all of whom were male college students) were given either a shot of epinephrine (which they were told was merely a vitamin injection) or a placebo injection. Some of the participants who received the epinephrine shot were informed of its effects (e.g. shaking, pounding heart, feeling flushed), others were told they would have no side effects, and others were told incorrect information about its effects (e.g. that it would make them feel itchy or cause a headache). For participants who knew what to expect from the epinephrine, they had a straightforward explanation for any effects they felt from the drug. However, Schachter and Singer believed that participants who were uninformed of epinephrine’s effects (or who were told incorrect information) would look for something in their environment to explain why they were suddenly feeling different. After receiving the injection, participants were put into one of two environments. In one version of the study (designed to induce feelings of euphoria), the participants interacted with a confederate (someone who appears to be a real participant, but is actually part of the research staff) who acted in a happy, joyful way. The confederate flew a paper airplane, crumpled up balls of paper to play a mock â€Å"basketball† game, made a slingshot out of rubber bands, and played with a hula hoop. In the other version of the study (designed to induce feelings of anger), the participant and confederate were asked to fill out questionnaires, which contained increasingly personal questions. The confederate became more and more irritated by the invasiveness of the questions, and eventually tore up the questionnaire and stormed out. Schachter and Singer’s Results The Schachter-Singer theory would predict that participants would feel happier (or angrier) if they did not know to expect the effects of the drug. Since they had no other explanation for the symptoms they felt, they would assume that it was the social environment making them feel this way. In the version of the study where participants were made to feel euphoric, Schachter and Singer’s hypothesis was supported: participants who were not told about the actual effects of the drug reported higher levels of euphoria (i.e. higher levels of happiness and lower levels of anger) than participants who knew what to expect from the drug. In the version of the study where participants were made to feel angry, the results were less conclusive (regardless of how the confederate acted, participants didn’t feel very angry), but the researchers found that participants who did not know to expect the drug’s side effects were more likely to match the behavior of the angry confederate (for example, by agreeing with his comments that the questionnaire was annoying and frustrating). In other words, feeling unexplained bodily sensations (e.g. a pounding heart and trembling) caused participants to look to the confederate’s behavior to figure out how they felt. Extensions of the Schachter-Singer Theory One implication of the Schachter-Singer theory is that physiological activation from one source can essentially transfer to the next thing we encounter, and this can affect our judgment of the new thing. For example, imagine that you’re running late to see a comedy show, so you end up jogging to get there. The Schachter-Singer theory would say that your sympathetic nervous system is already activated by running, so you would feel subsequent emotions (in this case, amusement) more strongly. In other words, the theory would predict that you’d find the comedy show funnier than if you had walked there. Limitations of the Schachter-Singer Theory In 1979, Gary Marshall and Philip Zimbardo published a paper attempting to replicate part of Schachter and Singer’s results. Marshall and Zimbardo ran versions of the study where participants were injected with either epinephrine or a placebo (but were not told of its true effects) and then interacted with a euphoric confederate. According to the Schachter and Singer theory, participants given epinephrine would be expected to have higher levels of positive affect, but this didn’t happen—instead, participants in the placebo group reported higher levels of positive emotions. In one review of research studies testing the Schachter-Singer theory, psychologist Rainer Reisenzein concluded that the support for the Schachter-Singer theory is limited: although there is evidence that physiological activation can affect how we experience emotions, the available research has rather mixed results and leaves some questions unanswered. However, he points out that the Schachter-Singer theory has been incredibly influential, and has inspired a wide range of research studies in the field of emotion research. Sources and Additional Reading: Cherry, Kendra. â€Å"The James-Lange Theory of Emotion.† Verywell Mind (2018, Nov 9). https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-the-james-lange-theory-of-emotion-2795305Cherry, Kendra. â€Å"Overview of the 6 Major Theories of Emotion.† Verywell Mind (2019, May 6). https://www.verywellmind.com/theories-of-emotion-2795717Cherry, Kendra. â€Å"Understanding the Cannon-Bard Theory of Emotion.† Verywell Mind (2018, Nov. 1). https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-the-cannon-bard-theory-2794965Marshall, Gary D., and Philip G. Zimbardo. Affective Consequences of Inadequately Explained Physiological Arousal. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, vol. 37, no. 6 (1979): 970-988. https://psycnet.apa.org/record/1980-29870-001Reisenzein, Rainer. The Schachter Theory of Emotion: Two Decades Later. Psychological Bulletin, vol. 94 no.2 (1983), pp. 239-264. https://psycnet.apa.org/record/1984-00045-001Schachter, Stanley, and Jerome Singer. â€Å"Cognitive, Social, and Physiolo gical Determinants of Emotional State.†Ã‚  Psychological Review  vol. 69 no. 5 (1962), pp. 379-399. https://psycnet.apa.org/record/1963-06064-001

Walt Disney World Co. vs Aloysia Wood - 1104 Words

515 So.2d 198 (1987) WALT DISNEY WORLD CO., et al., Petitioners, v. Aloysia WOOD, et al., Respondents. Supreme Court of Florida. (with professor edits) Aloysia Wood was injured in November 1971 at the grand prix attraction at Walt Disney World (Disney), when her fiance, Daniel Wood, rammed from the rear the vehicle which she was driving. Aloysia Wood filed suit against Disney, and Disney sought contribution from Daniel Wood After trial, the jury returned a verdict finding Aloysia Wood 14% at fault, Daniel Wood 85% at fault, and Disney 1% at fault. The jury assessed Wood s damages at $75,000. The court entered judgment against Disney for 86% of the damages. Disney subsequently moved to alter the judgment to reflect the jury s†¦show more content†¦Sys. v. Mineral Explorations, 704 P.2d 1266 (Wyo. 1985). The Illinois Supreme Court in Coney v. J.L.G. Industries, Inc. gave four reasons justifying the retention of joint and several liability: (1) The feasibility of apportioning fault on a comparative basis does not render an indivisible injury divisible for purposes of the joint and several liability rule. A concurrent tortfeasor is liable for the whole of an indivisible injury when his negligence is a proximate cause of that damage. In many instances, the negligence of a concurrent tortfeasor may be sufficient by itself to cause the entire loss. The mere fact that it may be possible to assign some percentage figure to the relative culpability of one negligent defendant as compared to another does not in any way suggest that each defendant s negligence is not a proximate cause of the entire indivisible injury. (2) In those instances where the plaintiff is not guilty of negligence, he would be forced to bear a portion of the loss should one of the tortfeasors prove financially unable to satisfy his share of the damages. (3) Even in cases where a plaintiff is partially at fault, his culpability is not equivalent to that of a defendant. The plaintiff s negligence relates only to a lack of due care for his own safety while the defendant s negligence relates to a lack of due care for the safety of others; the latter is tortious, but the former is not. (4) Elimination of joint and several

Practical Demonkeeping Chapter 16-18 Free Essays

16 HOWARD Howard Phillips, the owner of H.P.’s Cafe, had just settled down in the study of his stone cottage when he looked out the window and saw something moving through the trees. We will write a custom essay sample on Practical Demonkeeping Chapter 16-18 or any similar topic only for you Order Now Howard had spent most of his adult life trying to prove three theories he had formulated in college: one, that before man had walked the Earth there had been a powerful race of intelligent beings who had achieved a high level of civilization, then for some unknown reason had disappeared; two, that the remnants of their civilization still existed underground or under the ocean, and through extreme cunning and guile had escaped detection by man; and three, that they were planning to return as masters of the planet in a very unfriendly way. What lurked in the woods outside Howard Phillips’s cottage was the first physical evidence of his theories that he had ever encountered. He was at once elated and terrified. Like the child who is delighted by the idea of Santa Claus, then cries and cowers behind its mother when confronted with the corpulent red-suited reality of a department-store Santa, Howard Phillips was not fully prepared for a physical manifestation of what he had long believed extant. He was a scholar, not an adventurer. He preferred his experiences to come secondhand, through books. Howard’s idea of adventure was trying whole wheat toast with his daily ham and eggs instead of the usual white bread. He stared out the window at the creature moving in the moonlight. It was very much like the creatures he had read about in ancient manuscripts: bipedal like a man, but with long, apelike arms; reptilian. Howard could see scales reflecting in the moonlight. The one inconsistency that bothered him was its size. In the manuscripts, these creatures, who were said to be kept as slaves by the Old Ones, had always been small in stature, no more than a few feet tall. This one was enormous – four, maybe five meters tall. The creature stopped for moment, then turned slowly and looked directly at Howard’s window. Howard resisted the urge to dive to the floor and so stood staring straight into the eyes of the nightmare. The creature’s eyes were the size of car headlamps and they glowed a faint orange around slotted, feline pupils. Long, pointed scales lay back against its head, giving the impression of ears. They stood there, staring at each other, the creature and the man, neither moving, until Howard could bear it no longer. He grabbed the curtains and pulled them shut, almost ripping them from the rod in the process. Outside he could hear the sound of laughter. When he dared to peak through the gap in the curtains, the creature was gone. Why hadn’t he been more scientific in his observation? Why hadn’t he run for his camera? For all his work at putting together clues from arcane grimoirs to prove the existence of the Old Ones, people had labeled him a crackpot. One photograph would have convinced them. But he had missed his chance. Or had he? Suddenly it occurred to Howard that the creature had seen him. Why should the Old Ones be so careful not to be discovered for so long, then walk in the moonlight as if out for a Sunday stroll? Perhaps it had not moved on at all but was circling the house to do away with the witness. First he thought of weapons. He had none in the house. Many of the old books in his library had spells for protection, but he had no idea where to start looking. Besides, the verge of panic was not the ideal mental state in which to do research. He might still be able to bolt to his old Jaguar and escape. Then again, he might bolt into the claws of the creature. All these thoughts passed through his mind in a second. The phone. He snatched the phone from his desk and dialed. It seemed forever for the dial to spin, but finally there was a ring and a woman’s voice at the other end. â€Å"Nine-one-one, emergency,† she said. â€Å"Yes, I wish to report a lurker in the woods.† â€Å"What is your name, sir?† â€Å"Howard Phillips.† â€Å"And what is the address you are calling from?† â€Å"Five-oh-nine Cambridge Street, in Pine Cove.† â€Å"Are you in any immediate danger?† â€Å"Well, yes, that is why I called.† â€Å"You say you have a prowler. Is he attempting to enter the house?† â€Å"Not yet.† â€Å"You have seen the prowler?† â€Å"Yes, outside my window, in the woods.† â€Å"Can you describe him?† â€Å"He is an abomination of such abysmal hideousness that the mere recollection of this monstrosity perambulating in the dark outside my domicile fills me with the preternatural chill of the charnel house.† â€Å"That would be about how tall?† Howard paused to think. Obviously the law enforcement system was not prepared to deal with perversions from the transcosmic gulfs of the nethermost craters of the underworld. Yet he needed assistance. â€Å"The fiend stands two meters,† he said. â€Å"Could you see what he was wearing?† Again Howard considered the truth and rejected it. â€Å"Jeans, I believe. And a leather jacket.† â€Å"Could you tell if he was armed?† â€Å"Armed? I should say so. The beast is armed with monstrous claws and a toothed maw of the most villainous predator.† â€Å"Calm down, sir. I am dispatching a unit to your home. Make sure the doors are locked. Stay calm, I’ll stay on the line until the officers arrive.† â€Å"How long will that be?† â€Å"About twenty minutes.† â€Å"Young woman, in twenty minutes I shall be little more than a shredded memory!† Howard hung up the phone. It had to be escape, then. He took his greatcoat and car keys from the foyer and stood leaning against the front door. Slowly he slipped the lock and grabbed the door handle. â€Å"On three, then,† he said to himself. â€Å"One.† He turned the door handle. â€Å"Two.† He bent, preparing to run. â€Å"Three!† He didn’t move. â€Å"All right, then. Steel yourself, Howard.† He started the count again. â€Å"One.† Perhaps the beast was not outside. â€Å"Two.† If it was a slave creature, it wasn’t dangerous at all. â€Å"Three!† He did not move. Howard repeated the process of counting, over and over, each time measuring the fear in his heart against the danger that lurked outside. Finally, disgusted with his own cowardliness, he threw the door open, and bolted into the dark. 17 BILLY Billy Winston was on the final stretch of the nightly audit at the Rooms-R-Us Motel. His fingers danced across the calculator like a spastic Fred Astaire. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could log onto the computer and become Roxanne. Only thirty-seven of the motel’s one hundred rooms were rented tonight, so he was going to finish early. He couldn’t wait. He needed Roxanne’s ego boost after being ditched by The Breeze the night before. He hit the total button with a flourish, as if he had just played the final note of a piano concerto, then wrote the figure into the ledger and slammed the book. Billy was alone in the motel. The only sound was the hum of the fluorescent lights. From the windows by his desk he had a 180-degree view of the highway and the parking lot, but there was nothing to see. At that time of night a car or two passed every half hour or so. Just as well. He didn’t like distractions while he was being Roxanne. Billy pushed a stool up to the front counter behind the computer. He typed in his access code and logged on. WITKSAS: HOW’S YOUR DOG, SWEETIE? SEND: PNCVCAL The Rooms-R-Us Motel chain maintained a computer network for making reservations at their motels all over the world. From any location a desk clerk could contact any of the two hundred motels in the chain by simply entering a seven-letter code. Billy had just sent a message to the night auditor in Wichita, Kansas. He started at the green phosphorescent screen, waiting for an answer. PNCVCAL: ROXANNE! MY DOG IS LONELY. HELP ME, BABY. WITKSAS Wichita was on line. Billy punched up a reply. WITKSAS: MAYBE HE NEEDS A LITTLE DISCIPLINE. I COULD SMOTHER HIM IF YOU WANT. SEND: PNCVCAL There was a pause while Billy waited. PNCVCAL: YOU WANT TO HOLD HIS POOR FUZZY FACE BETWEEN YOUR MELONS UNTIL HE BEGS? IS THAT IT? WITKSAS Billy thought for a moment. This was why they loved him. He couldn’t just throw them an answer they could get from any sleazebeast. Roxanne was a goddess. WITKSAS: YES. AND BEAT HIM SOFTLY ON THE EARS. BAD DOG. BAD DOG. SEND: PNCVCAL Again Billy waited for the response. A message appeared on the screen. WHERE ARE YOU DARLING? I MISS YOU. TULSOKL. It was his lover from Tulsa. Roxanne could handle two or three at once, but she wasn’t in the mood for it right now. She was feeling a little crampy. Billy adjusted his crotch, his panties were riding up a bit. He typed two messages. WITKSAS: GO PET YOUR DOGGIE FOR A WHILE. AUNTIE ROXANNE WILL CHECK ON YOU IN A WHILE. SEND: PNCVCAL TULSOKL: TOOK AN EVENING OFF TO SHOP FOR SOMETHING LACY TO WEAR FOR YOU. I HOPE YOU DON’T FIND IT TOO SHOCKING. SEND: PNCVCAL While he was waiting for a response from Oklahoma, Billy dug into his gym bag for his red high heels. He liked to hook the stiletto heels into the rungs of the stool while he talked to his lovers. When he glanced up, he thought he saw something moving out in the parking lot. Probably just a guest getting something from the car. PNCVCAL: YOU SWEET LITTLE THING, YOU COULD NEVER SHOCK ME. TELL ME WHAT YOU BOUGHT. TULSOKL Billy started to type in a modest description of a lace teddy he had seen in a catalog. To the guy in Tulsa, Roxanne was a shy little flower; to Wichita she was a dominatrix. The desk clerk in Seattle saw her as a leather-clad biker chick. The old man in Arizona thought she was a struggling single mother of two, barely making it on a desk clerk’s salary. He always wanted to send her money. There were ten of them in all. Roxanne gave them what they needed. They loved her. Billy heard the double doors of the lobby open, but he did not look up. He finished typing his message and pressed the SEND button. â€Å"Can I help you,† he said mechanically, still not looking up. â€Å"You betcha,† a voice said. Two huge reptilian hands clacked down on the counter about four feet on each side of Billy. He looked up into the open mouth of the demon coming at his face. Billy pushed back from the keyboard. His heel caught in the rung of the stool and he went over backward as the giant maw snapped shut above him. Billy let loose a long, sirenlike scream and began scrambling on his hands and knees behind the counter toward the back office. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the demon crawling over the counter after him. Once in the office, Billy leapt to his feet and slammed the door. As he turned to run out the back door, he heard the door fly open and slam against the wall. The back door of the office led into a long corridor of rooms. Billy pounded on the doors as he passed. No one opened a door, but there were angry shouts from inside the rooms. Billy turned and saw the demon filling the far end of the corridor. It was in a crouch, moving down the corridor on all fours, crawling awkward and batlike in the confined space. Billy dug in his pocket for his pass key, found it, and ran down the hallway and around the corner. Making the corner, he twisted his ankle. White pain shot up his leg, and he cried out. He limped to the closest door. The images of women in horror movies who twisted their ankles and feebly fell into the clutches of the monster raced through his head. Damn high heels. He fumbled the key into the lock while looking back down the hallway. The door opened and Billy fell into the room just as the monster rounded the corner behind him. He kicked the stiletto heel off his good foot, vaulted up and hopped across the empty room to the sliding glass door. The safety bar was set. He fell to his knees and began clawing at it. The only light in the room was coming from the hallway, and suddenly that was eclipsed. The monster was working its way through the doorway. â€Å"What the fuck are you!† Billy screamed. The monster stopped just inside the room. Even crouching over, its shoulders hit the ceiling. Billy cowered by the sliding door, still clawing under the curtains at the safety bar. The monster looked around the room, its huge head turning back and forth like a searchlight. To Billy’s amazement, it reached around and turned on the lights. It seemed to be studying the bed. â€Å"Does that have Magic Fingers?† it said. â€Å"What!† Billy said. It came out a scream. â€Å"That bed has Magic Fingers, right?† Billy pulled the safety bar loose and hurled it at the monster. The heavy steel bar hit the monster in the face and rattled to the floor. The monster showed no reaction. Billy reached for the latch on the door and started to pull it open. The monster scuttled forward, reached over Billy’s head, and pushed the door shut with one clawed finger. Billy yanked on the door but it was held fast. He collapsed under the monster with a long, agonizing wail. â€Å"Give me a quarter,† the monster said. Billy looked up into the huge lizard face. The monster’s grin was nearly two feet wide. â€Å"Give me a quarter!† it repeated. Billy dug into his pocket, came out with a handful of change, and timidly held it up to the monster. Still holding the door shut with one hand, the monster reached down with the other and plucked a quarter from Billy’s hand with two claws, using them like chopsticks. â€Å"Thanks,† it said. â€Å"I love Magic Fingers.† The demon let go of the door. â€Å"You can go now,† it said. Before he could think about it, Billy threw the door open and dove through. He was climbing to his feet when something caught him by the leg from behind and dragged him back into the room. â€Å"I was just kidding. You can’t go.† The monster held Billy upside down by his leg while it dropped the quarter into the little metal box on the nightstand. Billy flailed in the air, screaming and clawing at the demon, ripping his fingernails against its scales. The monster took Billy into its arms like a teddy bear and lay back on the bed. Its feet hung off the end and nearly touched the dresser on the opposite wall. Billy could not scream; there was no breath for a scream. The monster let go with one arm and placed one long claw at Billy’s ear. â€Å"Don’t you just love Magic Fingers?† it said. Then it drove the claw though Billy’s brain. 18 RACHEL After Merle died and Rachel observed a respectable period of mourning, which was precisely the same amount of time it took the courts to transfer Merle’s property to her, she sold the Cessna and the trailer, bought herself a Volkswagen van, and on the advice of the women at the shelter, headed for Berkeley. In Berkeley, they insisted, she would find a community of women who could help her stay off the wheel of abuse. They were right. The women in Berkeley welcomed Rachel with open arms. They helped her find a place to live, enrolled her in exercise and self-actualization courses, taught her to defend herself, nurture herself, and most important, to respect herself. She lost weight and grew strong. She thrived. Within a year she took the remainder of her inheritance and bought a lease on a small studio adjacent to the University of California campus and began teaching high-intensity aerobics. She soon gained a reputation as a tough, domineering bitch of an instructor. There was a waiting list to get into her classes. The fat little girl had come into her own as a beautiful and powerful woman. Rachel taught six classes a day, putting herself through the rigors of each workout along with her students. After a few months of that regimen, she fell ill, waking one morning to find that she had just enough strength to call the women in her classes to cancel, and no more. One of her students, a statuesque, gray-haired woman in her forties named Bella, appeared at Rachel’s door a few hours later. Once through the door Bella began giving orders. â€Å"Take off your clothes and get back in bed. I’ll bring you some tea in a moment.† Her voice was deep and strong, yet somehow soothing. Rachel did as she was told. â€Å"I don’t know what you think you’ve done to deserve the punishment you are giving yourself, Rachel,† Bella said, â€Å"but it has to stop.† Bella sat on the edge of Rachel’s bed and watched while Rachel drank the tea. â€Å"Now lie on your stomach and relax.† Bella applied fragrant oil to Rachel’s back and began rubbing, first with long, slow strokes that spread the oil, then gradually digging her fingers into the muscles until Rachel thought she would cry out in pain. When the message was finished, Rachel felt even more exhausted than before. She fell into a deep sleep. When Rachel awoke, Bella repeated the process, forcing Rachel to drink the bitter tea, then kneading her muscles until they ached. Again, Rachel slept. When Rachel awoke the fourth time, Bella again served her the tea, but this time she had Rachel lie on her back to receive her massage. Bella’s hands played gently over her body, lingering between her legs and on her breasts. Through the drugged haze of the tea, Rachel noticed that the older woman was almost naked and had rubbed her own body with the same fragrant oils that she used on Rachel. It didn’t occur to Rachel to resist. Since Bella had come through the door, she had been giving orders and Rachel had obeyed. In the dim light of Rachel’s little apartment they became lovers. It had been two years since Rachel had been with a man. Trading soft caresses with Bella, she didn’t care if she was ever again. When Rachel was back on her feet, Bella introduced her to a group of women who met at Bella’s house once a week to perform ceremonies and rituals. Among these women Rachel learned about a new power she carried within herself, the power of the Goddess. Bella tutored her in the machinations of white magic and soon Rachel was leading the coven in rituals, while Bella looked on like a proud mother. â€Å"Modulate your voice,† Bella told her. â€Å"No matter what you are saying it should sound like a chant to the Goddess. The coven should be taken with the chant. That is the meaning of enchantment, my dear.† Rachel gave up her apartment and moved into Bella’s restored Victorian house near the U.C. campus. For the first time in her life, she felt truly happy. Of course, it didn’t last. One afternoon she came home to find Bella in bed with a bald and bewhiskered professor of music. Rachel was livid. She threatened the professor with a fireplace poker and chased him, half-naked, into the street. He exited clutching his tweed jacket and corduroy slacks in front of him. â€Å"You said you loved me!† Rachel screamed at Bella. â€Å"I do love you, dear.† Bella did not seem the least bit upset. Her voice was deep and modulated like a chant. â€Å"This was about power, not love.† â€Å"If I wasn’t filling your needs, you should have said something.† â€Å"You are the most wonderful lover I have known, dear Rachel. But Dr. Mendenhall holds the mortgage on our house. That loan is interest free, in case you hadn’t noticed.† â€Å"You whore!† â€Å"Aren’t we all, dear?† â€Å"I’m not.† â€Å"You are. I am. The Goddess is. We all have our price. Be it love, or money, or power, Rachel. Why do you think the women in your exercise classes put themselves through so much pain?† â€Å"You’re changing the subject.† â€Å"Answer me,† Bella demanded. â€Å"Why?† â€Å"They want a sound body. They want a strong vessel to carry a strong spirit.† â€Å"They don’t give a rat’s ass about a strong spirit. They want a tight ass so men will want them. They will deny it to the death, but it’s true. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you will realize your own power.† â€Å"You’re sick. This goes against everything you’ve ever taught me.† â€Å"This is the most important thing I ever will teach you, so listen! Know your price, Rachel.† â€Å"No.† â€Å"You think I’m some cheap slut, do you? You think you’re above selling yourself? How much rent have you ever paid here?† â€Å"I offered. You said it didn’t matter. I loved you.† â€Å"That’s your price, then.† â€Å"It’s not. It’s love.† â€Å"Sold!† Bella climbed out of bed and strode across the room, her long gray hair flying behind her. She took her robe from the closet, threw it around herself, and tied the sash. â€Å"Love me for what I am, Rachel. Just as I love you for what you are. Nothing has changed. Dr. Mendenhall will be back, whimpering like a puppy. If it will make you feel better, you can be the one that takes him. Maybe we can do it together.† â€Å"You’re sick. How could you even suggest such a thing?† â€Å"Rachel, as long as you see men as human beings, we are going to have a problem. They are inferior beings, incapable of love. How could a few moments of animal friction with a subhuman affect us? What we have between us?† â€Å"You sound like a man caught with his pants down.† Bella sighed. â€Å"I don’t want you around the others until you calm down. There’s some money in my jewelry box. Why don’t you take it and go down to Esalen for a week or so. Think this over. You’ll feel better when you get back.† â€Å"What about the others?† Rachel asked. â€Å"How do you think they’ll feel when they find out that all the magic, all the spiritualism you preach, is just so much bullshit?† â€Å"Everything is true. They follow me because they admire my power. This is part of that power. I haven’t betrayed anyone.† â€Å"You’ve betrayed me.† â€Å"If you feel that way, then perhaps you’d better leave.† Bella went into the bathroom and began drawing a bath. Rachel followed her. â€Å"Why should I leave? I could just tell them. I know as much as you do now. I could lead them.† â€Å"Dear Rachel.† Bella was adding oils to her bath and not looking up. â€Å"Didn’t you learn anything from killing your husband? Destruction is a man’s way.† Rachel was stunned. She had told Bella about the accident but not that she had caused it. She had told no one. Bella looked up at her at last. â€Å"You can stay if you wish. I still love you.† â€Å"I’ll go.† â€Å"I’m sorry, Rachel. I thought you were more highly evolved.† Bella slipped out of her robe and into her bath. Rachel stood in the doorway staring down at her. â€Å"I love you,† she said. â€Å"I know you do, dear. Now, go pack your things.† Rachel couldn’t bear the idea of staying in Berkeley. Everywhere she went she encountered reminders of Bella. She loaded up her van and spent a month driving around California, looking for a place where she might fit in. Then, one morning while reading the paper over breakfast, she spotted a column called â€Å"California Facts.† It was a simple list of figures that informed readers of obscure facts such as which California county produces the most pistachios (Sacramento), where one had the best chance of having one’s car stolen (North Hollywood), and tucked amid a mlange of seemingly insignificant demographics, which California town had the highest per capita percentage of divorced women (Pine Cove). Rachel had found her destination. Now, five years later, she was firmly set in the community, respected by the women and feared and lusted after by the men. She had moved slowly, recruiting into her coven only women who sought her out – mostly women who were on the verge of leaving their husbands and who needed something to shore them up during the divorce process. Rachel provided them with the support they required, and in return they gave her their loyalty. Just six months ago she initiated the thirteenth and final member of the coven. At last she was able to perform the rituals that she had worked so hard to learn from Bella. For years they seemed ineffective, and Rachel attributed their failure to not having a full coven. Now she was starting to suspect that the Earth magic they were trying to perform just did not work – that there was no real power to be had. She could lead the coven to attempt anything, and on her command they would do it. That was a power of sorts. She could extract favors from men with no more than a seductive glance and in that, there was a power. But none of it was enough. She wanted the magic to work. She wanted real power. Catch had sensed Rachel’s lust for power in the Head of the Slug that afternoon, recognizing in her what he had seen in his ruthless masters before Travis. That night, while Rachel lay in the dark of her cabin, contemplating her own impotence, the demon came to her. She had locked the door that night, more out of habit than need, as there was very little crime in Pine Cove. Around nine she heard someone try the doorknob and she sat upright in bed. â€Å"Who is it?† As if in answer, the door bent slowly inward and the doorjamb cracked, then splintered away. The door opened, but there was no one behind it. Rachel pulled the quilt up around her chin and scooted up into the corner of the bed. â€Å"Who is it?† A voice growled out of the darkness, â€Å"Don’t be afraid. I will not hurt you.† The moon was bright. If someone was there, she should have been able to see his silhouette in the doorway, but strain as she might, she saw nothing. â€Å"Who are you? What do you want?† â€Å"No – what do you want?† the voice said. Rachel was truly frightened; the voice was coming from an empty spot not two feet away from her bed. â€Å"I asked you first,† she said. â€Å"Who are you?† â€Å"Ooooooooooo, I am the ghost of Christmas past.† Rachel poked herself in the leg with her thumbnail to make sure she was not dreaming. She wasn’t. She found herself speaking to the disembodied voice in spite of herself. â€Å"Christmas is months away.† â€Å"I know. I lied. I’m not the ghost of Christmas past. I saw that in a movie once.† â€Å"Who are you!† Rachel was near hysteria. â€Å"I am all your dreams come true.† Someone must have planted a speaker somewhere in the house. Rachel’s fear turned to anger. She leapt from bed to find the offending device. Two steps out of bed she ran into something and fell to the floor. Something that felt like claws wrapped around her waist. She felt herself being lifted and put back on the bed. Panic seized her. She began to scream as her bladder let go. â€Å"Stop it!† The voice drowned her screams and rattled the windows of the cabin. â€Å"I don’t have time for this.† Rachel cowered on the bed. She was panting and felt herself getting light-headed. She started to sink back into unconsciousness, but something caught her by the hair and yanked her back. Her mind searched for a touchstone in reality. A ghost – it was a ghost. Did she believe in ghosts? Perhaps it was time to start. Maybe it was him, returned for revenge. â€Å"Merle, is that you?† â€Å"Who?† â€Å"I’m sorry, Merle, I had to†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Who is Merle?† â€Å"You’re not Merle?† â€Å"Never heard of him.† â€Å"Then, who – what in the hell are you?† â€Å"I am the defeat of your enemies. I am the power you crave. I am, live and direct from hell, the demon Catch! Ta-da!† There was a clicking on the floor like a tap-dancing step. â€Å"You’re an Earth spirit?† â€Å"Er, uh, yes, an Earth spirit. That’s me, Catch, the Earth spirit.† â€Å"But I didn’t think the ritual worked.† â€Å"Ritual?† â€Å"We tried to call you up at the meeting last week, but I didn’t think it worked because I didn’t draw the circle of power with a virgin blade that had been quenched in blood.† â€Å"What did you use?† â€Å"A nail file.† There was a pause. Had she offended the Earth spirit? Here was the first evidence that her magic could work and she had blown it by compromising the materials called for in the ritual. â€Å"I’m sorry,† she said, â€Å"but it’s not easy to find a blade that’s been quenched in blood.† â€Å"It’s okay.† â€Å"If I had known, I†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"No really, it’s okay.† â€Å"Are you offended, Great Spirit?† â€Å"I am about to bestow the greatest power in the world upon a woman who draws circles in the dirt with nail files. I don’t know. Give me a minute.† â€Å"Then you will grant harmony to the hearts of the women in the coven?† â€Å"What the fuck are you talking about?† the voice said. â€Å"That is why we summoned you, O Spirit – to bring us harmony.† â€Å"Oh, yeah, harmony. But there is a condition.† â€Å"Tell me what you require of me, O Spirit.† â€Å"I will return to you later, witch. If I find what I am looking for, I will need you to renounce the Creator and perform a ritual. In return you will be given the command of a power that can rule the Earth. Will you do this?† Rachel could not believe what she was hearing. Accepting that her magic worked was a huge step, yet she was speaking to the evidence. But to be offered the power to rule the world? She wasn’t sure her career in exercise instruction had prepared her for this. â€Å"Speak, woman! Or would you rather spend your life collecting gobs of hair from shower drains and fingernail parings from ashtrays?† â€Å"How do you know about that?† â€Å"I was destroying pagans when Charlemagne was alive. Now, answer; there is a hunger rising in me and I must go.† â€Å"Destroying pagans? I thought the Earth spirits were benevolent.† â€Å"We have our moments. Now, will you renounce the Creator?† â€Å"Renounce the Goddess, I don’t know†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Not the Goddess! The Creator!† â€Å"But the Goddess†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Wrong. The Creator, the All-Powerful. Help me out here, babe – I’m not allowed to say his name.† â€Å"You mean the Christian God?† â€Å"Bingo! Will you renounce him?† â€Å"I did that a long time ago.† â€Å"Good. Wait here. I will be back.† Rachel searched for a last word, but nothing came. She heard a rustling in the leaves outside and ran to the door. In the moonlight she could see the shapes of cattle standing in the nearby pasture and something moving among them. Something that was growing larger as it moved away toward town. How to cite Practical Demonkeeping Chapter 16-18, Essay examples

One Poet Two Poems Essay Example For Students

One Poet Two Poems Essay Two Poems. Two Ideas. One AuthorTwo of Emily Dickinsons poems, Because I Could Not Stop For Death and I Heard A Fly Buzz-When I Died, are both about one of lifes few certainties: death. However, that is where the similarities end. Although both poems were created less than a year apart by the same poet, their ideas about what lies after death differ. In one, there appears to be life after death, but in the other there is nothing. Only a number of clues in each piece help us determine which poem believes in what. In the piece, Because I Could Not Stop For Death, we are being told the tale of a woman who is being taken away by Death. This is our first indication that this poem believes in an afterlife. In most religions, where there is a grim reaper like specter, this entity will deliver a persons soul to another place, usually a heaven or a hell. In the fifth stanza, Death and the woman pause before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground- The Roof was scarcely visible- The Cornice in the Ground- (913). Although the poem does not directly say it, it is highly probable that this grave is the womans own. It is also possible the womans body already rests beneath the soil in a casket. If this is at all accurate, then her spirit or soul may be the one who is looking at the house. Spirits and souls usually mean there is an afterlife involved. It isnt until the sixth and final stanza where the audience obtains conclusive evidence that Because I Could Not Stop For Death believes in an afterlife. The woman recalls how it has been Centuries- and yet feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses Heads were toward Eternity- (913). To the woman, it has been a few hundred years since Death visited her, but to her, it has felt like less than 24 hours. Since the body cannot live on for hundreds of years, then it must be none other then the soul who has come to the realization that so much time has passed. The final part with the horses refers to the horse drawn carriage the woman was riding in when she passed away. In those two final lines, the horses seem to be leading her into Eternity, possibly into an afterlife. It is just the exact opposite is Dickinsons other poem, I Heard A Fly Buzz-When I Died, With this particular piece of literature, the clues which point to the disbelief in an afterlife are fewer and not as blatant, but are all still present. In this poem, a woman is lying in bed with her family standing all around waiting for her eventual death. While the family is waiting for her to pass on, she herself is waiting for the King (914). No, were not talking about Elvis, but instead this King is some sort of omnipotent being, a god. Later as the woman dies, her eyes (or windows as they are referred to in the poem) fail, then she could not see to see- (914). When she says this, what she seems to mean is she could not see any of the afterlife or Kings she expected to be there. The womans soul drifted off into nothingness with no afterlife to travel to. To conclude, the beliefs of the two Dickinson poems in regards to life after death differ significantly. In one, life does exist, in the other it does not. 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