Discuss the Roles of Language and Reason in History Essay Example for Free

Discuss the Roles of Language and Reason in History Essay History as the area of knowledge is virtually indivisible from language and reasoning. Language is one of the most potent means of interpreting and reporting historical information that is derived from the sources pertinent to the events and occurrences. The sources themselves, in their turn, are frequently presented by the written documents, recorded anecdotal experiences, and works of art, archeology, anthropology and photography which, yet again, are interpreted through the language in conjunction with the context of a historical event. It appears to be an endless loop, where language is the alpha and omega, the main vehicle of conveying history. However, to arrive to the valid interpretation of a certain historical event or development, historians frequently use reasoning to connect the factual data of the tangible sources since the latter ones often come in the form of fragments, related to a particular aspect of the happening. Ideally, reasoning, applied to the interpretation of historical data, should be impersonal, unaffected by predominant views and opinions and completely untainted by political agenda. Yet, it is hard to imagine that throughout the centuries those who held power would willingly allow the contemporary historians relate to the masses the adequate information on the details of their governing techniques and actions. As Winston Churchill pointed out, â€Å"History will be kind to me for I intend to write it.† Therefore, it is up to an individual to interpret the language, deduce information through applying reasoning, incorporate other areas of knowledge such as science, sociology, psychology and arrive to conclusions in attempts to comprehend historical developments in question. It is important to point out that we frequently perceive historical events as they are presented by those who hold some form of authority: the individuals whom we refer to as experts or the mass media and research bodies who are entrusted with the responsibility to convey information to masses. And here comes the essential aspect: the validity of the statements and projections made by the mentioned authorities. In other words, in search for the truthful perspective of a historical event one needs to remember about the language that is used for such interpretations, the language of power. Truth in history is a dubious concept since any event which involves certain outcomes would be interpreted by a number of experts. The outcomes of the events be it revolutions, wars, or reigns of monarchs and are usually appear in form of facts: toppling of governments, changes in ideologies and laws that societies are to adhere to, development or stagnation of the economy in a given country. These are the facts that are presented in the form of explanations, commentaries, and justifications. And here the language of power might play the crucial role in the way this information is to be perceived. To distinguish the motives behind the language that is used for presenting the event, one needs to look for other sources that interpret the same development, but from a different angle. For instance, the attack on the World Trade Center, New York City, in 2001 is vastly believed to be executed by the group of terrorists known as Al-Qaeda, and hence perceived as â€Å"the terrorist attack†. The mass media of the entire world presented the fact that over 2,700 people perished during the atrocious bombing which involved the hijacked airplanes driven into both towers which collapsed within a short period of time. However, the independent sources point at the undeniable facts that the World Trade Center towers were â€Å"designed to take the impact of the Boeing 707 hitting the building at any location† (Les Robertson, WTC Structural Engineer) and â€Å"could sustain multiple impacts of jetliners† (Frank A. Demartini, Manager of WTC Construction) and still survive (Aaron Swirsky, WTC Architect)1. Other sources, such as a scientific research conducted by Dr Steven Johns, Professor of Physics, BYU, state that the way the buildings collapsed precisely follows the scenario of a controlled demolition. Here, historical event calls for the help of reasoning, which can raise further questions to authorities that put the entire responsibility on the Al-Qaeda. The more scientific and factual evidence emerges from the research, the more controversial this event seems to be. But it is for an individual to arrive to a conclusion provided he or she is concerned with the issue. However, the prevailing opinion that was projected into the minds of the public by mass media remains adamant: the terrorist group dealt a tremendous blow to the democracy of the United States and must pay for it. Hence, there is a fully justifiable war with Iraq, the country which has a doubtful connection with Al-Qaeda, apart from the fact that it is run by a dictator and constitutes a predominantly Muslim society. But the non-Muslim world has already been contaminated by the fear of Muslims who seem to be nearly synonymous with â€Å"terrorists†. â€Å"Thus, [†¦] crowds have come,[†¦] to acquire a profound antipathy for the images evoked by certain words†2 and fully accepted the justification for the war in Iraq. Reasoning is an indispensable tool for those who wish to form a personal opinion on historical events which are presented through language. Yet this process entails searching for the information from the alternative sources. Language is used as a powerful vehicle in creating certain views among various groups of societies, and such language is frequently applied by those who are concerned with power. History is abound with examples in which governing bodies used language to impose ideology and ensure that the masses are entirely convinced in the righteousness of such propaganda: the Soviet Union, China and socialism, Germany and Nazism, the United States and democracy. However, upon a simple application of reasoning, a series of questions arise: how a nation that was claimed to be fed by pure ideology could exist for more than 75 years and build one of the most successful, self-sustaining industries and sciences that are still recognized, though grudgingly, throughout the entire capi talistic world? How could a nation develop such a potent economy that is still burgeoning while the other one is desperately trying to recover from the economic meltdown that has affected nearly the entire world? What could make a nation believe a mentally ill person3 and empower it to conquer the entire Europe? It is indubitable that the language of power and the power of language were effectively used by the leaders of those nations. However, it is reasoning that can help an independent researcher or a concerned individual in the quest of constructing a clear picture on what forces were involved in such profound changes on such vast scales. Of course, it is naà ¯ve to presume that reasoning alone might provide clarifications to the historical events under scrutiny. Reasoning in history is a second step in interpreting historical developments after pertinent to them materials were selected and carefully studied. These materials would include evidence from various fields and areas of knowledge, and the greater the scope of those areas, the more comprehensible and significant the features of events would emerge before the eyes of the researcher. Language might play the roles of obscuring the conditions and implications of historical events; yet the same language might be used in explaining the factors that led to the consequences produced by those events. However, it is the effort in applying reasoning and logic that would eventually create an unobstructed perspective on the historical developments and occurrences in question. References and works cited: 1. Joseph, Peter. 2007. Zeitgeist. Online. Accessed: Dec 21, 2010. www.zeitgeistmovie.com. 2. Le Bon, Gustave. 1841-1931. The Crowd: A study of the Popular Mind. 1841-1931. Translation: Psychologie des foules. Cherokee Publishing Company. Atlanta, Georgia. 1982. Pg. 100 3. The International Campaign for Real History. Hitler’s Last Illness. Online. Accessed: Dec 23, 2010. www.fpp.co.uk/Hitler/docs/Parkinsonism/VancouverSun170599.html

Free To Kill a Mockingbird Essays - The Families of Maycomb :: Kill Mockingbird essays

The Families of Maycomb    In the novel there are two families in the town of Maycomb that are very different. The Cunningham's and the Ewells have contrasting and opposite reputations. The Cunningham's are very respected in the town while the Ewells very much despised by the community. The Cunningham's show the respectability of hard worker or, where as Ewells are considered lazy. Miss Maudie is another character in the town who lives next to the Finch family. She is similar to the Cunningham's because she is a trusted figure who faces hard times very bravely and works hard in her garden.    The Cunningham's have pride, and are very respected by the citizen's of Maycomb County. The Cunningham's are given special privileges because there trusted. For example the Cunningham's paid Atticus Finch, a lawyer, for some legal work that Atticus did with their farm. They paid him not with money, but with food, and other services. The population of Maycomb County accepted this form of payment because they knew that the family had no money but was very honest, and extremely hard working. The Cunningham's would never take anything that they couldn't payback equally or with greater something of value. They were always considerate and would help you, and never consider about what was in it for them. The Cunningham's renewed their resources by doing this, people were glad to help them.    The Ewells were very different from the Cunningham's. Bob Ewell was a total drunk. He took what money he earned or stole and he drank it away. Mr. Ewell very rarely or if ever bought or cooked for his family a hot and total nutritious meal in his life. The Ewells used up the resources of the community. They scrounged around taking, and taking from others. People were disgusted when they helped the Ewells. The Ewells were liars, and were too ashamed to stop the slandering of Tom Robinson before it came uncontrollable, costing Tom his life.    Miss Maudie is a neighbor to the Finch Family. She shows more qualities of the Cunningham's and was a role model. Maudie respects others and minds her own business. She worked in her yard during the daytime and spent her evening on her front porch.

Angels Demons Chapter 58-61

58 â€Å"Seven-forty-six and thirty†¦ mark.† Even speaking into his walkie-talkie, Olivetti's voice never seemed to rise above a whisper. Langdon felt himself sweating now in his Harris tweed in the backseat of the Alpha Romeo, which was idling in Piazza de la Concorde, three blocks from the Pantheon. Vittoria sat beside him, looking engrossed by Olivetti, who was transmitting his final orders. â€Å"Deployment will be an eight-point hem,† the commander said. â€Å"Full perimeter with a bias on the entry. Target may know you visually, so you will be pas-visible. Nonmortal force only. We'll need someone to spot the roof. Target is primary. Asset secondary.† Jesus, Langdon thought, chilled by the efficiency with which Olivetti had just told his men the cardinal was expendable. Asset secondary. â€Å"I repeat. Nonmortal procurement. We need the target alive. Go.† Olivetti snapped off his walkie-talkie. Vittoria looked stunned, almost angry. â€Å"Commander, isn't anyone going inside?† Olivetti turned. â€Å"Inside?† â€Å"Inside the Pantheon! Where this is supposed to happen?† â€Å"Attento,† Olivetti said, his eyes fossilizing. â€Å"If my ranks have been infiltrated, my men may be known by sight. Your colleague has just finished warning me that this will be our sole chance to catch the target. I have no intention of scaring anyone off by marching my men inside.† â€Å"But what if the killer is already inside?† Olivetti checked his watch. â€Å"The target was specific. Eight o'clock. We have fifteen minutes.† â€Å"He said he would kill the cardinal at eight o'clock. But he may already have gotten the victim inside somehow. What if your men see the target come out but don't know who he is? Someone needs to make sure the inside is clean.† â€Å"Too risky at this point.† â€Å"Not if the person going in was unrecognizable.† â€Å"Disguising operatives is time consuming and – â€Å" â€Å"I meant me,† Vittoria said. Langdon turned and stared at her. Olivetti shook his head. â€Å"Absolutely not.† â€Å"He killed my father.† â€Å"Exactly, so he may know who you are.† â€Å"You heard him on the phone. He had no idea Leonardo Vetra even had a daughter. He sure as hell doesn't know what I look like. I could walk in like a tourist. If I see anything suspicious, I could walk into the square and signal your men to move in.† â€Å"I'm sorry, I cannot allow that.† â€Å"Comandante?† Olivetti's receiver crackled. â€Å"We've got a situation from the north point. The fountain is blocking our line of sight. We can't see the entrance unless we move into plain view on the piazza. What's your call? Do you want us blind or vulnerable?† Vittoria apparently had endured enough. â€Å"That's it. I'm going.† She opened her door and got out. Olivetti dropped his walkie-talkie and jumped out of the car, circling in front of Vittoria. Langdon got out too. What the hell is she doing! Olivetti blocked Vittoria's way. â€Å"Ms. Vetra, your instincts are good, but I cannot let a civilian interfere.† â€Å"Interfere? You're flying blind. Let me help.† â€Å"I would love to have a recon point inside, but†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"But what?† Vittoria demanded. â€Å"But I'm a woman?† Olivetti said nothing. â€Å"That had better not be what you were going to say, Commander, because you know damn well this is a good idea, and if you let some archaic macho bullshit – â€Å" â€Å"Let us do our job.† â€Å"Let me help.† â€Å"Too dangerous. We would have no lines of communication with you. I can't let you carry a walkie-talkie, it would give you away.† Vittoria reached in her shirt pocket and produced her cell phone. â€Å"Plenty of tourists carry phones.† Olivetti frowned. Vittoria unsnapped the phone and mimicked a call. â€Å"Hi, honey, I'm standing in the Pantheon. You should see this place!† She snapped the phone shut and glared at Olivetti. â€Å"Who the hell is going to know? It is a no-risk situation. Let me be your eyes!† She motioned to the cell phone on Olivetti's belt. â€Å"What's your number?† Olivetti did not reply. The driver had been looking on and seemed to have some thoughts of his own. He got out of the car and took the commander aside. They spoke in hushed tones for ten seconds. Finally Olivetti nodded and returned. â€Å"Program this number.† He began dictating digits. Vittoria programmed her phone. â€Å"Now call the number.† Vittoria pressed the auto dial. The phone on Olivetti's belt began ringing. He picked it up and spoke into the receiver. â€Å"Go into the building, Ms. Vetra, look around, exit the building, then call and tell me what you see.† Vittoria snapped the phone shut. â€Å"Thank you, sir.† Langdon felt a sudden, unexpected surge of protective instinct. â€Å"Wait a minute,† he said to Olivetti. â€Å"You're sending her in there alone.† Vittoria scowled at him. â€Å"Robert, I'll be fine.† The Swiss Guard driver was talking to Olivetti again. â€Å"It's dangerous,† Langdon said to Vittoria. â€Å"He's right,† Olivetti said. â€Å"Even my best men don't work alone. My lieutenant has just pointed out that the masquerade will be more convincing with both of you anyway.† Both of us? Langdon hesitated. Actually, what I meant – â€Å"Both of you entering together,† Olivetti said, â€Å"will look like a couple on holiday. You can also back each other up. I'm more comfortable with that.† Vittoria shrugged. â€Å"Fine, but we'll need to go fast.† Langdon groaned. Nice move, cowboy. Olivetti pointed down the street. â€Å"First street you hit will be Via degli Orfani. Go left. It takes you directly to the Pantheon. Two-minute walk, tops. I'll be here, directing my men and waiting for your call. I'd like you to have protection.† He pulled out his pistol. â€Å"Do either of you know how to use a gun?† Langdon's heart skipped. We don't need a gun! Vittoria held her hand out. â€Å"I can tag a breaching porpoise from forty meters off the bow of a rocking ship.† â€Å"Good.† Olivetti handed the gun to her. â€Å"You'll have to conceal it.† Vittoria glanced down at her shorts. Then she looked at Langdon. Oh no you don't! Langdon thought, but Vittoria was too fast. She opened his jacket, and inserted the weapon into one of his breast pockets. It felt like a rock dropping into his coat, his only consolation being that Diagramma was in the other pocket. â€Å"We look harmless,† Vittoria said. â€Å"We're leaving.† She took Langdon's arm and headed down the street. The driver called out, â€Å"Arm in arm is good. Remember, you're tourists. Newlyweds even. Perhaps if you held hands?† As they turned the corner Langdon could have sworn he saw on Vittoria's face the hint of a smile. 59 The Swiss Guard â€Å"staging room† is located adjacent to the Corpo di Vigilanza barracks and is used primarily for planning the security surrounding papal appearances and public Vatican events. Today, however, it was being used for something else. The man addressing the assembled task force was the second-in-command of the Swiss Guard, Captain Elias Rocher. Rocher was a barrel-chested man with soft, puttylike features. He wore the traditional blue captain's uniform with his own personal flair – a red beret cocked sideways on his head. His voice was surprisingly crystalline for such a large man, and when he spoke, his tone had the clarity of a musical instrument. Despite the precision of his inflection, Rocher's eyes were cloudy like those of some nocturnal mammal. His men called him â€Å"orso† – grizzly bear. They sometimes joked that Rocher was â€Å"the bear who walked in the viper's shadow.† Commander Olivetti was the viper. Rocher was just as deadly as the viper, but at least you could see him coming. Rocher's men stood at sharp attention, nobody moving a muscle, although the information they had just received had increased their aggregate blood pressure by a few thousand points. Rookie Lieutenant Chartrand stood in the back of the room wishing he had been among the 99 percent of applicants who had not qualified to be here. At twenty years old, Chartrand was the youngest guard on the force. He had been in Vatican City only three months. Like every man there, Chartrand was Swiss Army trained and had endured two years of additional ausbilding in Bern before qualifying for the grueling Vatican prva held in a secret barracks outside of Rome. Nothing in his training, however, had prepared him for a crisis like this. At first Chartrand thought the briefing was some sort of bizarre training exercise. Futuristic weapons? Ancient cults? Kidnapped cardinals? Then Rocher had shown them the live video feed of the weapon in question. Apparently this was no exercise. â€Å"We will be killing power in selected areas,† Rocher was saying, â€Å"to eradicate extraneous magnetic interference. We will move in teams of four. We will wear infrared goggles for vision. Reconnaissance will be done with traditional bug sweepers, recalibrated for sub-three-ohm flux fields. Any questions?† None. Chartrand's mind was on overload. â€Å"What if we don't find it in time?† he asked, immediately wishing he had not. The grizzly bear gazed out at him from beneath his red beret. Then he dismissed the group with a somber salute. â€Å"Godspeed, men.† 60 Two blocks from the Pantheon, Langdon and Vittoria approached on foot past a line of taxis, their drivers sleeping in the front seats. Nap time was eternal in the Eternal City – the ubiquitous public dozing a perfected extension of the afternoon siestas born of ancient Spain. Langdon fought to focus his thoughts, but the situation was too bizarre to grasp rationally. Six hours ago he had been sound asleep in Cambridge. Now he was in Europe, caught up in a surreal battle of ancient titans, packing a semiautomatic in his Harris tweed, and holding hands with a woman he had only just met. He looked at Vittoria. She was focused straight ahead. There was a strength in her grasp – that of an independent and determined woman. Her fingers wrapped around his with the comfort of innate acceptance. No hesitation. Langdon felt a growing attraction. Get real, he told himself. Vittoria seemed to sense his uneasiness. â€Å"Relax,† she said, without turning her head. â€Å"We're supposed to look like newlyweds.† â€Å"I'm relaxed.† â€Å"You're crushing my hand.† Langdon flushed and loosened up. â€Å"Breathe through your eyes,† she said. â€Å"I'm sorry?† â€Å"It relaxes the muscles. It's called pranayama.† â€Å"Piranha?† â€Å"Not the fish. Pranayama. Never mind.† As they rounded the corner into Piazza della Rotunda, the Pantheon rose before them. Langdon admired it, as always, with awe. The Pantheon. Temple to all gods. Pagan gods. Gods of Nature and Earth. The structure seemed boxier from the outside than he remembered. The vertical pillars and triangular pronaus all but obscured the circular dome behind it. Still, the bold and immodest inscription over the entrance assured him they were in the right spot. M AGRIPPA L F COS TERTIUM FECIT. Langdon translated it, as always, with amusement. Marcus Agrippa, Consul for the third time, built this. So much for humility, he thought, turning his eyes to the surrounding area. A scattering of tourists with video cameras wandered the area. Others sat enjoying Rome's best iced coffee at La Tazza di Oro's outdoor cafe. Outside the entrance to the Pantheon, four armed Roman policemen stood at attention just as Olivetti had predicted. â€Å"Looks pretty quiet,† Vittoria said. Langdon nodded, but he felt troubled. Now that he was standing here in person, the whole scenario seemed surreal. Despite Vittoria's apparent faith that he was right, Langdon realized he had put everyone on the line here. The Illuminati poem lingered. From Santi's earthly tomb with demon's hole. YES, he told himself. This was the spot. Santi's tomb. He had been here many times beneath the Pantheon's oculus and stood before the grave of the great Raphael. â€Å"What time is it?† Vittoria asked. Langdon checked his watch. â€Å"Seven-fifty. Ten minutes till show time.† â€Å"Hope these guys are good,† Vittoria said, eyeing the scattered tourists entering the Pantheon. â€Å"If anything happens inside that dome, we'll all be in the crossfire.† Langdon exhaled heavily as they moved toward the entrance. The gun felt heavy in his pocket. He wondered what would happen if the policemen frisked him and found the weapon, but the officers did not give them a second look. Apparently the disguise was convincing. Langdon whispered to Vittoria. â€Å"Ever fire anything other than a tranquilizer gun?† â€Å"Don't you trust me?† â€Å"Trust you? I barely know you.† Vittoria frowned. â€Å"And here I thought we were newlyweds.† 61 The air inside the Pantheon was cool and damp, heavy with history. The sprawling ceiling hovered overhead as though weightless – the 141-foot unsupported span larger even than the cupola at St. Peter's. As always, Langdon felt a chill as he entered the cavernous room. It was a remarkable fusion of engineering and art. Above them the famous circular hole in the roof glowed with a narrow shaft of evening sun. The oculus, Langdon thought. The demon's hole. They had arrived. Langdon's eyes traced the arch of the ceiling sloping outward to the columned walls and finally down to the polished marble floor beneath their feet. The faint echo of footfalls and tourist murmurs reverberated around the dome. Langdon scanned the dozen or so tourists wandering aimlessly in the shadows. Are you here? â€Å"Looks pretty quiet,† Vittoria said, still holding his hand. Langdon nodded. â€Å"Where's Raphael's tomb?† Langdon thought for a moment, trying to get his bearings. He surveyed the circumference of the room. Tombs. Altars. Pillars. Niches. He motioned to a particularly ornate funerary across the dome and to the left. â€Å"I think that's Raphael's over there.† Vittoria scanned the rest of the room. â€Å"I don't see anyone who looks like an assassin about to kill a cardinal. Shall we look around?† Langdon nodded. â€Å"There's only one spot in here where anyone could be hiding. We better check the rientranze.† â€Å"The recesses?† â€Å"Yes.† Langdon pointed. â€Å"The recesses in the wall.† Around the perimeter, interspersed with the tombs, a series of semicircular niches were hewn in the wall. The niches, although not enormous, were big enough to hide someone in the shadows. Sadly, Langdon knew they once contained statues of the Olympian gods, but the pagan sculptures had been destroyed when the Vatican converted the Pantheon to a Christian church. He felt a pang of frustration to know he was standing at the first altar of science, and the marker was gone. He wondered which statue it had been, and where it had pointed. Langdon could imagine no greater thrill than finding an Illuminati marker – a statue that surreptitiously pointed the way down the Path of Illumination. Again he wondered who the anonymous Illuminati sculptor had been. â€Å"I'll take the left arc,† Vittoria said, indicating the left half of the circumference. â€Å"You go right. See you in a hundred and eighty degrees.† Langdon smiled grimly. As Vittoria moved off, Langdon felt the eerie horror of the situation seeping back into his mind. As he turned and made his way to the right, the killer's voice seemed to whisper in the dead space around him. Eight o'clock. Virgin sacrifices on the altars of science. A mathematical progression of death. Eight, nine, ten, eleven†¦ and at midnight. Langdon checked his watch: 7:52. Eight minutes. As Langdon moved toward the first recess, he passed the tomb of one of Italy's Catholic kings. The sarcophagus, like many in Rome, was askew with the wall, positioned awkwardly. A group of visitors seemed confused by this. Langdon did not stop to explain. Formal Christian tombs were often misaligned with the architecture so they could lie facing east. It was an ancient superstition that Langdon's Symbology 212 class had discussed just last month. â€Å"That's totally incongruous!† a female student in the front had blurted when Langdon explained the reason for east-facing tombs. â€Å"Why would Christians want their tombs to face the rising sun? We're talking about Christianity†¦ not sun worship!† Langdon smiled, pacing before the blackboard, chewing an apple. â€Å"Mr. Hitzrot!† he shouted. A young man dozing in back sat up with a start. â€Å"What! Me?† Langdon pointed to a Renaissance art poster on the wall. â€Å"Who is that man kneeling before God?† â€Å"Um†¦ some saint?† â€Å"Brilliant. And how do you know he's a saint?† â€Å"He's got a halo?† â€Å"Excellent, and does that golden halo remind you of anything?† Hitzrot broke into a smile. â€Å"Yeah! Those Egyptian things we studied last term. Those†¦ um†¦ sun disks!† â€Å"Thank you, Hitzrot. Go back to sleep.† Langdon turned back to the class. â€Å"Halos, like much of Christian symbology, were borrowed from the ancient Egyptian religion of sun worship. Christianity is filled with examples of sun worship.† â€Å"Excuse me?† the girl in front said. â€Å"I go to church all the time, and I don't see much sun worshiping going on!† â€Å"Really? What do you celebrate on December twenty-fifth?† â€Å"Christmas. The birth of Jesus Christ.† â€Å"And yet according to the Bible, Christ was born in March, so what are we doing celebrating in late December?† Silence. Langdon smiled. â€Å"December twenty-fifth, my friends, is the ancient pagan holiday of sol invictus – Unconquered Sun – coinciding with the winter solstice. It's that wonderful time of year when the sun returns, and the days start getting longer.† Langdon took another bite of apple. â€Å"Conquering religions,† he continued, â€Å"often adopt existing holidays to make conversion less shocking. It's called transmutation. It helps people acclimatize to the new faith. Worshipers keep the same holy dates, pray in the same sacred locations, use a similar symbology†¦ and they simply substitute a different god.† Now the girl in front looked furious. â€Å"You're implying Christianity is just some kind of†¦ repackaged sun worship!† â€Å"Not at all. Christianity did not borrow only from sun worship. The ritual of Christian canonization is taken from the ancient ‘god-making' rite of Euhemerus. The practice of ‘god-eating' – that is, Holy Communion – was borrowed from the Aztecs. Even the concept of Christ dying for our sins is arguably not exclusively Christian; the self-sacrifice of a young man to absolve the sins of his people appears in the earliest tradition of the Quetzalcoatl.† The girl glared. â€Å"So, is anything in Christianity original?† â€Å"Very little in any organized faith is truly original. Religions are not born from scratch. They grow from one another. Modern religion is a collage†¦ an assimilated historical record of man's quest to understand the divine.† â€Å"Um†¦ hold on,† Hitzrot ventured, sounding awake now. â€Å"I know something Christian that's original. How about our image of God? Christian art never portrays God as the hawk sun god, or as an Aztec, or as anything weird. It always shows God as an old man with a white beard. So our image of God is original, right?† Langdon smiled. â€Å"When the early Christian converts abandoned their former deities – pagan gods, Roman gods, Greek, sun, Mithraic, whatever – they asked the church what their new Christian God looked like. Wisely, the church chose the most feared, powerful†¦ and familiar face in all of recorded history.† Hitzrot looked skeptical. â€Å"An old man with a white, flowing beard?† Langdon pointed to a hierarchy of ancient gods on the wall. At the top sat an old man with a white, flowing beard. â€Å"Does Zeus look familiar?† The class ended right on cue. â€Å"Good evening,† a man's voice said. Langdon jumped. He was back in the Pantheon. He turned to face an elderly man in a blue cape with a red cross on the chest. The man gave him a gray-toothed smile. â€Å"You're English, right?† The man's accent was thick Tuscan. Langdon blinked, confused. â€Å"Actually, no. I'm American.† The man looked embarrassed. â€Å"Oh heavens, forgive me. You were so nicely dressed, I just figured†¦ my apologies.† â€Å"Can I help you?† Langdon asked, his heart beating wildly. â€Å"Actually I thought perhaps I could help you. I am the cicerone here.† The man pointed proudly to his city-issued badge. â€Å"It is my job to make your visit to Rome more interesting.† More interesting? Langdon was certain this particular visit to Rome was plenty interesting. â€Å"You look like a man of distinction,† the guide fawned, â€Å"no doubt more interested in culture than most. Perhaps I can give you some history on this fascinating building.† Langdon smiled politely. â€Å"Kind of you, but I'm actually an art historian myself, and – â€Å" â€Å"Superb!† The man's eyes lit up like he'd hit the jackpot. â€Å"Then you will no doubt find this delightful!† â€Å"I think I'd prefer to – â€Å" â€Å"The Pantheon,† the man declared, launching into his memorized spiel, â€Å"was built by Marcus Agrippa in 27 B.C.† â€Å"Yes,† Langdon interjected, â€Å"and rebuilt by Hadrian in 119 A.D.† â€Å"It was the world's largest free-standing dome until 1960 when it was eclipsed by the Superdome in New Orleans!† Langdon groaned. The man was unstoppable. â€Å"And a fifth-century theologian once called the Pantheon the House of the Devil, warning that the hole in the roof was an entrance for demons!† Langdon blocked him out. His eyes climbed skyward to the oculus, and the memory of Vittoria's suggested plot flashed a bone-numbing image in his mind†¦ a branded cardinal falling through the hole and hitting the marble floor. Now that would be a media event. Langdon found himself scanning the Pantheon for reporters. None. He inhaled deeply. It was an absurd idea. The logistics of pulling off a stunt like that would be ridiculous. As Langdon moved off to continue his inspection, the babbling docent followed like a love-starved puppy. Remind me, Langdon thought to himself, there's nothing worse than a gung ho art historian. Across the room, Vittoria was immersed in her own search. Standing all alone for the first time since she had heard the news of her father, she felt the stark reality of the last eight hours closing in around her. Her father had been murdered – cruelly and abruptly. Almost equally painful was that her father's creation had been corrupted – now a tool of terrorists. Vittoria was plagued with guilt to think that it was her invention that had enabled the antimatter to be transported†¦ her canister that was now counting down inside the Vatican. In an effort to serve her father's quest for the simplicity of truth†¦ she had become a conspirator of chaos. Oddly, the only thing that felt right in her life at the moment was the presence of a total stranger. Robert Langdon. She found an inexplicable refuge in his eyes†¦ like the harmony of the oceans she had left behind early that morning. She was glad he was there. Not only had he been a source of strength and hope for her, Langdon had used his quick mind to render this one chance to catch her father's killer. Vittoria breathed deeply as she continued her search, moving around the perimeter. She was overwhelmed by the unexpected images of personal revenge that had dominated her thoughts all day. Even as a sworn lover of all life†¦ she wanted this executioner dead. No amount of good karma could make her turn the other cheek today. Alarmed and electrified, she sensed something coursing through her Italian blood that she had never felt before†¦ the whispers of Sicilian ancestors defending family honor with brutal justice. Vendetta, Vittoria thought, and for the first time in her life understood. Visions of reprisal spurred her on. She approached the tomb of Raphael Santi. Even from a distance she could tell this guy was special. His casket, unlike the others, was protected by a Plexiglas shield and recessed into the wall. Through the barrier she could see the front of the sarcophagus. Raphael Santi 1483-1520 Vittoria studied the grave and then read the one-sentence descriptive plaque beside Raphael's tomb. Then she read it again. Then†¦ she read it again. A moment later, she was dashing in horror across the floor. â€Å"Robert! Robert!†

Letter vs. Txtn

October 8, 2009 LW 102 9-11 am The Decease of Letter Writing Letter writing has all but disappeared in society today due to technologies such as e-mail and text messaging. Both of these technologies make the process of writing a letter and sending it through the mail much easier. Text messaging refers to messages being sent from one mobile phone to another. E-mail describes a system for sending and receiving messages over a computer network. Texting and E-mail have become part of people’s daily lives. Many people couldn’t imagine living without both. Even though texting and E-mailing are great things they are also making Americans lazy. When writing a letter you have to take the time to sit down and get your thoughts to process on paper. When writing letters you have to worry about correct spelling and vocabulary. Another big part of writing letters is grammar; it takes years sometimes to learn how to properly use the correct grammar and punctuation. Sometimes a major challenge in writing is being able to express an argument or a complete thought on paper. All of these things on top of technology contribute to why people don’t take the time to write letters anymore. E-mail also contributes to letter writing disappearing because even before texting became so popular there was e-mail. E-mail allows not only messages, but documents in little time. E-mail is convenient for PC users who are on the computer 24/7. E-mail allows you to send things like pictures and videos to another computer in less time it takes to mail a letter. E-mail is also cheap because most websites offer free e-mail addresses. Also most people who work in offices or from home rely on their e-mails very much to receive important information from their jobs quickly. Text messaging is another reason why letter writing has disappeared. Some people consider text messaging as their voice or identity. Texting is also one of the least expensive forms of communication and sends messages in less time than it takes to write. People text because it’s convenient and is like an extension of a PC. Unlike writing a letter, in text messaging you don’t have to worry about spelling because you can use short words and not have the correct spelling. Also in texting there is practically no grammar or punctuation. E-mail and text messaging are just two reasons why letter writing has deceased. These two technological advancements are much more convenient and easier to access. People are still communicating and sharing their original and personal thoughts with other people. So even though writing letters has disappeared somewhat people still express themselves in other ways.

5 Ways to Tell if Your Company Cares About Work Life Balance

5 Ways to Tell if Your Company Cares About Work Life Balance We all know that to get where we want to be, certain sacrifices are required–especially when we are starting out and getting the engine going in our career. That means late nights, extra hours, and constantly going above and beyond as a matter of expectation. Still, you can be willing to do all of this extra labor with a smile on your face and still want the possibility of a week of working remotely in the summer, or an afternoon off to see your kid’s recital.So when you’re going for the job, here are 5 ways of finding out (without alerting the hiring manager) whether your potential new company prioritizes work life balance.1. Reverse the reference checkThey’re going to be checking up on you, after all. That’s de rigueur.So why not check up on them? Sift through your online network and see if you know anyone (or anyone who knows anyone) who used to work for that company and might be willing to chat with you. Avoid asking them to answer any of your q uestions in writing, but do ask them to be candid. Ask about the culture, the flexibility, the diversity, and what they would have changed if they had the chance.2. Stake it outTry and schedule your interview for super early or late in the day. If it’s 7 a.m. or 7 p.m. and the office is crammed despite being advertised as a 9-5 job, then you have your answer. Not a lot of family dinners appear to be happening. Then, be sure to look for signs of life outside of work: family photos, vacation memorabilia, etc. If you don’t get past the lobby or the boardroom, ask for an office tour. Evidence that families and outside interests are prized in the office is a very good sign.3. Social media stalkingNot the creepy kind, just the quick search. Try to get a sense of different tiers of employees, from executives to interns. Are people complaining? Working all the time? Taking vacations? Do they have families? What sort of press has been generated by the company or its employees?4 . Do your homeworkRead up on other companies also, to get a sense of work-life balance policies in your industry. Try Maybrooks, Glassdoor, or Fairygodboss for starters. If you don’t get this job, or decide you don’t want this job, then you’ll have a good idea of companies you might try next.5. Ask around itDirect questions can raise suspicions about your work ethic or intentions. Save them for after you receive the offer and are negotiating with HR. And, in the interview process, ask questions that might get the answers you want without tipping your hand–questions like what they love about the company that has nothing to do with their direct work, or the type of person who does best in that environment, or even just asking them to describe the company culture. Pay attention to what they’re saying- and what they aren’t saying.If you keep your wits about you, it is possible to glean quite a bit about a company’s particular work-life ba lance- all without damaging your chances of getting the job.

Atticus Finch Biography

Atticus Finch Biography Atticus Finch is one of the greatest fictional figures in American literature. Both in the book and in the film, Atticus stands larger-than-life, bold-and-courageous against the falsehood and injustice. He risks his life and his career (seemingly without care), as he defends a black man against charges of rape (which were based on lies, fear, and ignorance). Where Atticus Appears (and Inspiration for This Character): Atticus first appears in Harper Lees only novel, ​​To Kill a Mockingbird. He is said to have been based on Lees own father,  Amasa Lee, (which puts a possible autobiographical slant to this famous novel). Amasa held a number of positions (including a bookkeeper and financial manager)he also practiced law in Monroe County, and his writing explored race-relations topics. When he prepared for the role of Atticus Finch in the film version,  Ã¢â‚¬â€¹Gregory Peck went to Alabama and met Lees father. (He appears to have died in 1962, the same year the Academy-Award-winning film was released). His Relationships During the course of the novel, we discover that his wife died, though we never find out how she died. Her death has left a gaping hole in the family, which has been (at least partially) filled by their housekeeper/cook (Calpurnia, a stern disciplinarian). There is no mention of Atticus in relation to other women in the novel, which seems to suggest that he is focused on doing his job (making a difference, and pursuing justice), while he raises his children, Jem (Jeremy Atticus Finch) and Scout (Jean Louise Finch). His Career   Atticus is a Maycomb lawyer, and he appears to be descended from an old local family. Hes well-known in the community, and he appears to be well respected and liked. However, his decision to defend Tom Robinson against the false charges of rape lands him in a great deal of trouble. The Scottsboro Case, a legal court case involving nine black accused and convicted under extremely dubious evidence, occurred in 1931when Harper Lee was five-years-old. This case is also an inspiration for the novel.

How do the subject and form contribute to the meaning of an image Essay

How do the subject and form contribute to the meaning of an image - Essay Example One can guess by taking a peek at this painting that the horse is emotionally, psychologically, and physically charged as if being drawn into a battlefield. On the other hand, the image on the right shows a horse’s head with more naturalistic proportions and harmonious rhythms. This ancient Greek sculpture generates a completely different feeling and meaning. One can guess by taking a peek at this sculpture that the horse is at ease and is tranquil. The differences in form create differences in the content. The impact and meaning of an artwork is heavily influenced by the decision the artist makes with respect to the selection of color and value, line and shape, type of balance, and the work’s size. Similarly, the subject drives the meaning of a piece of art because the audience draws inferences about it by consulting the preconceived notions and impressions it has of the