Psychology Of The Internet Essays - Social Psychology, Collaboration

Psychology Of The Internet The Psychology of the Internet A Report on the Book by Patricia Wallace Summary of the Book Today, the internet is a growing community. Millions of people from all over the world go online everyday to check email, research, shop, or even just interact with someone halfway around the world. As this community grows, so does the number of interactions between people. The Psychology of the Internet examines the psychology of new behavior produced by this novel method of human communication. It also delves into the business sector of the internet and how certain companies are using this medium to increase productivity within their companies and corporations. Analysis of the Book The book provides several examples of how the internet can affect the quality of an organizations production. When used in the appropriate manner, the internet can facilitate interaction between a group 24 hours a day and is only limited by the availability of a telephone line. The idea that a person must be in work and at his desk for production is becoming more obsolete as companies realize the potential of the internet. One impressive way the internet can help companies is the workgroups that can be formed internationally. A workgroup is a group of employees striving to achieve the same objective. In the traditional sense, these groups are formed in a room with notepads for each person to help them brainstorm and meetings at regular intervals until the project is complete. The internet revolution is changing all of that. The workgroups are no longer governed by the geographical positioning of its members. I found this particularly interesting because the idea of having a supervisor in Manila, a Research and Development team in Cebu, and a sales group in the United States is becoming more of a feasible possibility than ever before. The internet can also help employees overcome inhibitions that they may not be able to in person. This is due, in part, to the amount of social cues that are lost over a computer. In a chat room, for example, the two employees might know nothing about each other, other than the information they provide about themselves. Therefore, any type of social stereotypes (i.e. sexism, racism, bigotry) is less prevalent than if perceived in the real world. If the employees have never met, social irritations may not be as readily triggered than if in person. For example, if I am irritated by a person who stutters when he speaks, the chances that he will do so over the internet are relatively low. This allows me to concentrate solely on the task at hand and not be distracted by insignificant things. The book speaks of how the internet groups, in the absence of social cues and orders, had to find a group identity online. In other words, the lack of social cues also has its drawbacks. Even if the members of the workgroups concede personal information about themselves, such as their race or ethnicity, the other members might have no physical basis for the connection. So if I wanted to bond with a co-worker who was a Filipino in California, I would more likely do it in person than online. This is due to the lack of human contact and the perception that I am merely interacting with my computer and not a real person. With this in mind, workgroups must find new bases for forming group coherence. The book speaks of the studying of several different multinational workgroups. All were given the same objectives to be completed in a given amount of time. However, only a few of the groups completed the task while only one group did it in the allotted amount of time. The study showed that the groups that failed lacked consistent interaction. After the initial meeting, the members of the group did not log on regularly to converse with the group. Emails were exchanged intermittently among these groups as well. The book states that the main reason these groups failed was that the interaction, already reduced by the lack of human interaction on the computer, was limited to almost nothing. On the other hand, the group that fared the best was noted as having the most email interaction and regular group

5 things to consider before becoming a freelancer

5 things to consider before becoming a freelancer No set hours, no dress code and no boss. The life of a freelancer sounds like the dream situation for many average workers, especially those who have skills in writing, design or coding. With these skills, the reality of becoming a remote worker is not a far off dream as it is for others. But, it is important to take a step back and consider what it actually means to be a freelancer before taking the leap. Quitting your job and realising it’s not actually for you can be a stark reality to face.1) It’s a Solo Career PathThere’s no office water cooler in your home office, nor is there an opportunity to turn to your co-worker and have a chat about the weather. For some, this can be a very lonely path. It is good for those who have an erratic schedule, kids who need varying amounts of attention or someone who thrives on work hours that are outside of the 9 to 5.However, for some people, the isolation that comes with freelancing can cause anxiety or even depression. F reelancers who begin to feel this way should get out of the house as often as possible – even if it’s simply scheduling coffee with a friend or taking part in a sports activity twice a week. A break from the norm and social interaction is needed to keep the average freelancer sane.Networking can also be a great way to ensure that you get socialisation as a freelancer. Whether online or off, not only can you meet new people but you could also get more work from the endeavour!2) Money TalksFreelancing does not come with a set salary. One month you may be swimming in work and watching your bank account grow healthily, whereas the next you may be struggling to remember the meaning of the word client. It’s an insecure way to make a living – any prospective freelancer needs to be aware and prepared for this.Also, leaving the world of full-time work can remove important factors such as health insurance, retirement funds and other company benefits. Paying out for this alongside rent, savings, bills and the simple cost of living can see your freelancing money not stretch as far as you would have hoped.If you generally struggle to save money or keep track of your finances – even with a regular income – then freelancing may not be for you. Doing your own finances, taxes and sorting out the right freelancers insurance can be next to impossible if you don’t have a firm grasp on your budget.3) Legal FactorsAs a freelancer, you are considered a sole trader. But, this can open you up to a world of legal problems that are typically covered by an employer in the permanent career path. Setting yourself up as a limited company can be one way in which you mitigate this legal risk to yourself.Creating your own limited company can help to separate you and your work. Protecting your personal funds in the case of your company financially struggling or folding, or in the case that a client sues. Having a company in place helps to prevent the client from going after you or your personal money.Having legal contracts in place is also integral to protecting yourself from any repercussions. A written agreement can help protect your income also, as having written proof of your agreement with a client can help you to claim back money owed in the case of no payment. Terms and conditions alongside a privacy policy are also important to have on your website if you are selling a product, as it protects both you and any visitor to your site.4) Firm Handed ApproachSometimes clients don’t want to pay you. Sometimes clients want things on an impossible time scale. Sometimes it can feel like you’re just being set up to fail. For these situations, having a firm hand is vital to help keep your head above water. Learning to say ‘no’ is almost as important as the skill that allows you to freelance in the first place.If you find that you’re more of a ‘yes person’ then freelancing may not b e a career path that you can thrive in.5) Organisation is KingDeadlines. Client logins. Invoices. Taxes. Emails. Lots and lots of emails.Keeping on top of everything can feel like a monumental task at the best of times, but even more so when you are a freelancer responsible for the running of a small business. Ultimately, that’s what you are. A small business with all of the paperwork and administration that comes with it – all of which you have to do by yourself.If keeping things in order is a struggle of yours, then keeping track of your freelancing career may be a struggle in the beginning. However, learning to become organised is not impossible!Purchase a file for your tax returns and insurance documents. Invest in an accounting software that works for you and can help you to invoice your clients with ease. Create folders in your email account that will help you deal with issues in order of priority. Use a calendar that can help you keep on top of all your deadline s, those are important after all!There a lot of things that need to be organised as a freelancer, if it seems like too much now then imagine what it will be like during the everyday struggle of freelancing. Set firm organisation in place from day one to enjoy true success as a freelancer.So there you have it, the top considerations that you need to make before you take the leap into freelance writing for good. Ensure that you consider everything carefully before you leave the city centre office in exchange for your home office.About the authorZack Halliwell is a lover of long walks with his dog during the day and a freelance writer by night. Kind of like Batman (coincidentally the name of his dog). Find him @ZackHalliwell on  Twitter.

African Slaves Essay Example for Free

African Slaves Essay Slavery (449) , Slave (192) company About StudyMoose Contact Careers Help Center Donate a Paper Legal Terms & Conditions Privacy Policy Complaints ? Rationale My project will be to examine the lives of Indian Indentured labourers between 1845 and 1917. The reason I am examining their lives is to prove that Indian Indentureship was just another form of slavery with a different name. The project will also assist me in learning about the Indian Indentureship period for my CSEC examination. Introduction Indentured labour was something like the last resort for planters after slavery. After the abolition of slavery the planters were left with a labour shortage. In their search for other sources of labour the planters tried Chinese, Madeirans, even free African slaves but each of these options all had their disadvantages. After a trial and error period with many different labourers, it was found that the Indians were the ideal labourers. The Indentureship period was supposed to be a fair, humane and just system unlike the African slave trade and slavery on the whole but this was not the case. In many aspects of the Indentureship period, it was almost identical to slavery. In the following paragraphs it will be shown from the evidence given, that Indians were treated almost as badly as African slaves, proving that the Indentureship period was simply another form of slavery. Indentureship and slavery are basically the same thing but the major thing that differentiated them was the fact that the Indian labourers were legally owned while the African slaves were forced to work for the planters. The Indians were cheated into signing contracts which they didn’t understand with false promises of a better life and good working conditions. The Indians were gullible and were easily tricked into signing the contracts  which ran from 3-5 years. The African slaves on the other were kidnapped in most cases and forced to work for the rest of their usually short lives. Their only chance of freedom would be allowed only if they purchased it, which was very unlikely. The journey for both the Africans and the Indians began with a long journey on a boat in deplorable living conditions. For the Indians the journey lasted from 93 to 113 days which was longer than the journey of the Africans which lasted from 6 to 10 weeks. Although both journeys were bad the Middle passage was a little worse than the journey the Indians endured. They were both kept in confined spaces which was unhealthy, especially if kept for long periods of time. Because of their confinement diseases were easily s pread and the mortality rate was very high. Life on the plantation was not much different because their living quarter were also confined. African Slaves. (2016, Apr 08).

Financial Economics Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1000 words

Financial Economics - Essay Example Under CAPM, the variations associated with returns are considered as sufficient measure of the risk related to a particular portfolio. But, on the other hand, there are several other risk factors, which may be considered as influential in the determination of risk involved in the investment in a portfolio. Apart from this, as per the assumption made in CAPM, returns related to assets are deemed to be normally distributed, which in real life situation, cannot be guaranteed as such (Kurschner, 2008). In addition to this, it is also pertinent to note that investors do not possess the same ability to invest and therefore investment costs to be borne by them may vary significantly. Similarly, assumptions relating to no variations in the expected returns and the concept of asset market without friction can also be considered as unfeasible. In fact, markets, which are assumed to be frictionless are reflective of situations where there exist no costs of transaction and other costs relating t o taxes or any limit on transactions. Moreover, the model also presumes that the assets traded in the market can be segregated to an infinite extent, thus enabling them to be held or sold. Apart from these limitations, one other significant limitations associated with the model is that CAPM does not require investors to take into consideration unsystematic risk, as the model presumes that it is not difficult to diversify such risks. But, since returns are directly related to the returns on market portfolio, therefore it is not possible to eliminate such risks with mere diversification (Kurschner, 2008). Roll’s Critique of the Early Empirical Tests of the CAPM Based on the empirical testing of the CAPM, Roll’s critical evaluation of the model relates to the determination of the fact that whether CAPM equation is valid and does it hold its ground? As per the equation of CAPM, E (Ri) signifies the returns expected from investment in a security â€Å"i† (Roll, 1977) . On the other hand, Rf is representative of the risk free return and ? represents systematic risk associated with the security for expected returns are to be determined. Moreover, it is also pertinent to note here that under CAPM making use of expected returns in relation to a real market portfolio carries out the evaluation of investment portfolio. As per the criticism of Roll, there is a relationship between systematic risk and returns expected from investment in a security, which is linear, provided that the value for ? is determined in the form of an index portfolio. Apart from this, the intercept also equates with the return when a portfolio with minimum return is considered. In light of these findings, it can be stated that the assumptions of the model are not required (Roll, 1977). Moreover, Roll also argued that as Capital Asset Pricing Model is concerned with the mean and variances therein in relation to efficiency of market portfolios and since it is not possible to obser ve the investments for which returns are being determined through it, it is therefore not possible to evaluate the model through empirical testing (Roll, 1977). Arbitrage Pricing Theory as an Alternative to CAPM’s Limitations The Arbitrage Pricing theory reflects that pricing of an

Creation Research Paper Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words

Creation - Research Paper Example Conversely, the Buddhist worldview places little emphasis on the creation story and/or the understanding of such a concept as God; choosing instead to focus upon the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path as a means of personal enlightenment. However, it was ultimately stated by the Buddha that the world came into existence over the course of millions and millions of years in which life quite literally evolved within it. Rather than being spoken into existence within the space of a moment in time, the creation story of Buddhism is a seamless and continual loop of life death and rebirth that culminates in the world as we see it today (Schell 2). In such a way, there is not a definitive beginning or end to the earth and the life that it has. Conversely, the Christian approach has a definitive beginning and end. For this reason, the necessity of the faith to have a final rescuer, a redeemer, and a second coming is understood. Benstead, George. "Christian Creation Story." Innovations Learning - Welcome to Innovations Learning. N.p., 11  Apr.  2011. Web. 24  Feb.  2013.

My Vacation Essay Example for Free

My Vacation Essay There is one magical place where my family vacations to most summers. It is quiet, relaxing, beautiful, magnificent, and inspiring. Located in Saranac Lake, in rural New York, this is where my family has some of the best times. We stay in a calm and serene cabin where my Aunt and Uncle live. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Before I can explain what I do during this vacation, I must explain the background and history of this special family gathering. My family is not the type the goes on expensive or classy vacations to the Caribbean. We prefer memorable vacations, whether it is in Florida, Colorado, Cape Cod, or Saranac Lake. The places we go do not matter, but more the events that take place during them. Once my mom’s side of the family had grown, and all my grandparents, aunts, and uncles, had their children, everyone decided it would be fun to have a family reunion of some sort. My Aunt’s cabin sounded like a fun place to meet every summer- and that’s where we have met ever since. Now lots of the kids have grown up, and even though they are older they still enjoy some of the things we did when we first came. Some activities include hiking, swimming, fishing, canoeing, and boating on the lake. Also, playing board games and watching movies when it’s rainy, having cookies down on the dock, or playing a good game of hide and seek in the woods. Vacations to the lake are like an escape from the outside world, and a chance to see nature and still have fun. Every summer is guaranteed to be a blast, in rain or shine. To conclude, my vacations to the lake will always remain memorable and special. I hope that one day I will be able to continue the tradition for my family. Through the years, I have always been sort of jealous of my friends who told about their extravagant vacations to paradise, but I have soon realized that I would never trade my experiences for any of theirs. Why? Because I have something that they will never have. I have a family that loves and cares for each other, and would do anything to make everyone happy. I have a lifetimes worth of memories from only a few days. Finally, I have joy.

The Transformation of Hester in The Scarlet Letter :: Scarlet Letter essays

The Transformation of Hester in The Scarlet Letter The Puritans came from England in the sixteen hundreds to break free from the laws and regulations made by the king of England. In the new world, they were able to practice their own form of religion. The Puritans believed in God and His laws. "A Young Puritan's Code" was "Being sensible, that I am unable to do anything without God's help, I do humbly entreat him by his grace to enable me to keep these resolutions so far as they are agreeable to his will, for Christ sake." (Jonathan Edwards) And they had over fourteen resolutions to keep. Although this is Jonathan Edwards interpretation, it was most likely the way the Puritan lived. And they probably obeyed it out of fear for their life. For sinners are in the hands of a angry God. Many years later Nathaniel Hawthorn was greatly interested by the Puritans. This 19th-century American novelist, was born on July 4, in Salem, Massachusetts, and died May 11, 1864. He was the first American writer to apply artistic judgment to Puritan society. He was intrigued by the psychological insight into the complexities of human motivations and actions. In The Scarlet Letter, he expressed one of the central legacies of American Puritanism, using the plight of Hester Prynne and Arthur Dimmesdale to illustrate the conflict between the desire to confess and the necessity of self-concealment. Hawthorne grew up with his two sisters and their widowed mother, and an uncle saw to his education at Bowdoin College. In 1852, Hawthorne wrote the campaign biography of Franklin Pierce, an old college friend. The best of Hawthorn's early fiction was gathered in Twice-Told Tales, Mosses from an Old Manse, and The Snow-Image. These capture the complexity's of the New England Puritan heritage. Hawthorne's writing had a wide range of influence upon people, such as Melville who dedicated the great classic Moby-Dick to him. One of Hawthorne's most famous novels is The Scarlet Letter. One of his characters (Hester Prynne) is changed throughout the novel. Hester changes three different times, from being a shamed woman to a capable women and then to a healer. Hester Prynne emerges from the prison, proud and beautiful wearing

A Thousand Splendid Suns ISU Essay

In a world full of immorality, a human being is inclined of undertaking an act of evil towards another. Some people perform evil actions for good intentions, but some do because of their selfish interests and desire for power. In Khaled Hosseini’s novel, A Thousand Splendid Suns, it is questionable whether the characters and the society have displayed cruelty and inhumanity among other characters. Cruelty of mankind is evident in the novel. By examining the corrupted values, abuse, and the discrimination of women visible in society; it will become evident how evil humankind can be. Corrupted values are detrimental in society because it takes away one’s freedom, education, and a chance to live. First, the Talibans set laws for the Afghans to follow: You will not wear charming clothes. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will not make eye contact with men. You will not laugh in public. If you do, you will be beaten. You will not paint your nails. If you do, you will lose a finger. (Hosseini 278) Freedom is a basic fundamental right that every person deserves to have. The opportunity to speak, believe and pursue happiness without any restriction defines freedom for an individual. It is the government’s responsibility to distribute and secure the freedom of every citizen by imposing laws and rules that are beneficial for the common good. However, one of the corrupted values evident in this novel is that the society is deprived with freedom. Instead of enforcing laws to promote freedom, the Talibans have barred Afghans to express themselves. This corrupted value will cause the affected citizens to resist, in which will inevitably prompt to create chaos between the oppressors and the victims; the Talibans and the Afghans respectively. Additionally, taking away one’s freedom is like taking away their right as a human being. If one’s rights are deprived, their actions will be manipulated. Furthermore, Nana prohibits Mariam for going to school even though Mariam is willing to pursue it: â€Å"If the girl wants to learn, let her, my dear, let the girl have an education†¦. What’s the sense of schooling a girl like you? It’s like shining a spittoon†¦And you’ll learn nothing of value in those schools. There is only one, only one skill a woman like you and me needs in life, and they don’t teach it in school. Look at me. (Hosseini 17-18) Nana’s point of view about Mariam not going to school is a blinded, selfish and ironic characteristic of a typical mother. Usually, a mother will always want the best for her child, but in this case, she displays the contrary. Her belief deteriorates her moral and ethical values, in which, it also affects the likelihood of her daughter’s education. Every human being should have the right to an education, as it is like a key for success in life. If society deprives this fundamental right for children, necessary actions should be done in order to fix this corrupted value. Lastly, the Talibans also declared another sanction for those people who commit the crime of stealing. This is shown in the following excerpt, â€Å"If you steal, your hand will be cut off at the wrist. If you steal again your foot will be cut off† (Hosseini 277). Retribution is an idea where the amount of punishment given to the offender must be equivalent to the action that has been done. The penalty for theft is too severe to the extent that it can be described as inhumane and cruel. The concept of retribution is unhealthy in a society due to anger and revenge that cause such impaired judgement. Therefore, enforcing corrupted values into a society greatly harms the lives of the people. Abuse is any behaviour or action that is used to scare, harm, threaten, control or intimidate another person. It comes in many different forms including physical, mental, sexual, financial, or spiritual abuse. First, Rasheed and Mariam have an argument about the loss of their baby, â€Å"I don’t know, but ever since the baby–-is that the kind of man you take me for, after everything I’ve done for you? No. Of course not. Then stop pestering me! I’m sorry. Bebakhsh, Rasheed. I’m sorry. † (Hosseini 95). Mariam finds ope in her marriage as something that could lead to happiness and possibly love, but the marriage actually transforms into abuse and oppression. Marriage in Islam is usually a sacred union of two people who chose to respect and honour each other in all situations. It is generally a joyous occasion for females. In the novel, marriage is a nightmare in which both women are abused emotionally. Aditionally, since the marriages in the novel tend to be forced, they are not likely influenced by love. In this marriage, Mariam tries to love her husband as a commitment, but in return, what she receives is emotional abuse. If love cannot be established in a marriage, abuse is inevitable when someone makes a mistake. Furthermore, Rasheed forces Mariam to eat pebbles, this is shown in the following excerpt, â€Å"Put these in your mouth. What? Put These. In your mouth. Stop it, Rasheed, I’m–His powerful hands closed her jaw. He shoved two fingers into her mouth, and pried it open, then forced the cold, hard pebbles into it. Mariam struggled against him, mumbling, but he kept pushing the pebbles in, his upper lip curled in a sneer. Now chew, he said. Through the mouthful of grit and pebbles, Mariam mumbled a plea. Tears were leaking out of the corners of her eyes. (Hosseini 104) Rasheed’s brutal action towards Mariam proves that a human being is capable of harming other people, even very significant ones. The abuse Mariam experiences from her husband is a result of their failed marriage. Furthermore, Rasheed furthers his characteristic into an evil and heartless person who does not care about how painful and harsh his actions are. Lastly, Rasheed finds out that Tariq has met Laila, and this prompts him to lose his temper, and physically harm them. This is shown in the following quote: They crashed to the ground, Rasheed and Laila, thrashing about. He ended up on top, his hands already wrapped around Laila’s neck†¦Rasheed didn’t notice her coming back into the room. He was still on top of Laila, his eyes wide and his hands wrapped around her neck. Laila’s face was turning blue now, and her eyes had rolled back. Mariam saw that she was no longer struggling. Heâ⠂¬â„¢s going to kill her, she thought†¦Rasheed. He looked up. Mariam swung. † (Hosseini 347-348) This shows the peak of all Mariam’s life experiences: the pain and sorrow Rasheed has caused her, as well as the joy and love she shares with Laila. When the person that she loves is threatened, Mariam realizes that all of her endurance has not once increased her worth in Rasheed’s eyes. For the first time, Mariam sees her worth and believes that she never deserves the anguish she’s had to endure. Her powerful motivation is shown when she saves Laila’s life. Mariam realizes after her first swing at Rasheed that if she does not kill him, he will kill them both. Even if Mariam is ready to die, she’s not ready to lose Laila. In summary, abuse is an unjust action, and its presence is very obvious in this novel through physical and emotional mistreatment. The role of women in Afghanistan is an unjust and unreasonable position in which they are continuously denied many freedoms and rights. The women of the story grab the interest and sympathy of the reader; their personalities are almost real and existent. It is amazing that Hosseini, a man, could have so much insight into the feelings of women in a circumstance such as this. Hosseini positively depicts the persona of Afghan women and their ability to endure gender inequality, denied education and Taliban rule. In A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini, the harsh and cruel conditions which women face under Taliban rule are depicted through Miriam and Laila’s horrifying experiences. The Taliban take over was a huge step back for Afghanistan and its blossoming age for women. At first, it was believed the Taliban were saviors for the Afghan people, a lot of people assumed they would solve the problem, people like Rasheed,†Let them come, I, for one, will shower them with rose petals† (Hosseini 275). The people had no idea what the Taliban were doing; they fully supported it, until the Taliban started to impose laws. Most of these laws were strictly towards women: â€Å"You will stay inside your homes at all times. It is not proper for women to wander aimlessly about the streets. If you go outside, you must be accompanied by a male relative. If you are caught alone on the street, you will be beaten and sent home† (Hosseini 278). Laila was beaten on several occasions by the Taliban every week when she would go see her daughter, Aziza, at the orphanage because Rasheed refused to take her. The Taliban went as far as forcing women to one central hospital with limited doctors and supplies, which made child birth for many women to be a terrifying situation.

A Game of Thrones Chapter Forty

Catelyn The eastern sky was rose and gold as the sun broke over the Vale of Arryn. Catelyn Stark watched the light spread, her hands resting on the delicate carved stone of the balustrade outside her window. Below her the world turned from black to indigo to green as dawn crept across fields and forests. Pale white mists rose off Alyssa's Tears, where the ghost waters plunged over the shoulder of the mountain to begin their long tumble down the face of the Giant's Lance. Catelyn could feel the faint touch of spray on her face. Alyssa Arryn had seen her husband, her brothers, and all her children slain, and yet in life she had never shed a tear. So in death, the gods had decreed that she would know no rest until her weeping watered the black earth of the Vale, where the men she had loved were buried. Alyssa had been dead six thousand years now, and still no drop of the torrent had ever reached the valley floor far below. Catelyn wondered how large a waterfall her own tears would make when she died. â€Å"Tell me the rest of it,† she said. â€Å"The Kingslayer is massing a host at Casterly Rock,† Ser Rodrik Cassel answered from the room behind her. â€Å"Your brother writes that he has sent riders to the Rock, demanding that Lord Tywin proclaim his intent, but he has had no answer. Edmure has commanded Lord Vance and Lord Piper to guard the pass below the Golden Tooth. He vows to you that he will yield no foot of Tully land without first watering it with Lannister blood.† Catelyn turned away from the sunrise. Its beauty did little to lighten her mood; it seemed cruel for a day to dawn so fair and end so foul as this one promised to. â€Å"Edmure has sent riders and made vows,† she said, â€Å"but Edmure is not the Lord of Riverrun. What of my lord father?† â€Å"The message made no mention of Lord Hoster, my lady.† Ser Rodrik tugged at his whiskers. They had grown in white as snow and bristly as a thornbush while he was recovering from his wounds; he looked almost himself again. â€Å"My father would not have given the defense of Riverrun over to Edmure unless he was very sick,† she said, worried. â€Å"I should have been woken as soon as this bird arrived.† â€Å"Your lady sister thought it better to let you sleep, Maester Colemon told me.† â€Å"I should have been woken,† she insisted. â€Å"The maester tells me your sister planned to speak with you after the combat,† Ser Rodrik said. â€Å"Then she still plans to go through with this mummer's farce?† Catelyn grimaced. â€Å"The dwarf has played her like a set of pipes, and she is too deaf to hear the tune. Whatever happens this morning, Ser Rodrik, it is past time we took our leave. My place is at Winterfell with my sons. If you are strong enough to travel, I shall ask Lysa for an escort to see us to Gulltown. We can take ship from there.† â€Å"Another ship?† Ser Rodrik looked a shade green, yet he managed not to shudder. â€Å"As you say, my lady.† The old knight waited outside her door as Catelyn summoned the servants Lysa had given her. If she spoke to her sister before the duel, perhaps she could change her mind, she thought as they dressed her. Lysa's policies varied with her moods, and her moods changed hourly. The shy girl she had known at Riverrun had grown into a woman who was by turns proud, fearful, cruel, dreamy, reckless, timid, stubborn, vain, and, above all, inconstant. When that vile turnkey of hers had come crawling to tell them that Tyrion Lannister wished to confess, Catelyn had urged Lysa to have the dwarf brought to them privately, but no, nothing would do but that her sister must make a show of him before half the Vale. And now this . . . â€Å"Lannister is my prisoner,† she told Ser Rodrik as they descended the tower stairs and made their way through the Eyrie's cold white halls. Catelyn wore plain grey wool with a silvered belt. â€Å"My sister must be reminded of that.† At the doors to Lysa's apartments, they met her uncle storming out. â€Å"Going to join the fool's festival?† Ser Brynden snapped. â€Å"I'd tell you to slap some sense into your sister, if I thought it would do any good, but you'd only bruise your hand.† â€Å"There was a bird from Riverrun,† Catelyn began, â€Å"a letter from Edmure . . . â€Å" â€Å"I know, child.† The black fish that fastened his cloak was Brynden's only concession to ornament. â€Å"I had to hear it from Maester Colemon. I asked your sister for leave to take a thousand seasoned men and ride for Riverrun with all haste. Do you know what she told me? The Vale cannot spare a thousand swords, nor even one, Uncle, she said. You are the Knight of the Gate. Your place is here.† A gust of childish laughter drifted through the open doors behind him, and her uncle glanced darkly over his shoulder. â€Å"Well, I told her she could bloody well find herself a new Knight of the Gate. Black fish or no, I am still a Tully. I shall leave for Riverrun by evenfall.† Catelyn could not pretend to surprise. â€Å"Alone? You know as well as I that you will never survive the high road. Ser Rodrik and I are returning to Winterfell. Come with us, Uncle. I will give you your thousand men. Riverrun will not fight alone.† Brynden thought a moment, then nodded a brusque agreement. â€Å"As you say. It's the long way home, but I'm more like to get there. I'll wait for you below.† He went striding off, his cloak swirling behind him. Catelyn exchanged a look with Ser Rodrik. They went through the doors to the high, nervous sound of a child's giggles. Lysa's apartments opened over a small garden, a circle of dirt and grass planted with blue flowers and ringed on all sides by tall white towers. The builders had intended it as a godswood, but the Eyrie rested on the hard stone of the mountain, and no matter how much soil was hauled up from the Vale, they could not get a weirwood to take root here. So the Lords of the Eyrie planted grass and scattered statuary amidst low, flowering shrubs. It was there the two champions would meet to place their lives, and that of Tyrion Lannister, into the hands of the gods. Lysa, freshly scrubbed and garbed in cream velvet with a rope of sapphires and moonstones around her milk-white neck, was holding court on the terrace overlooking the scene of the combat, surrounded by her knights, retainers, and lords high and low. Most of them still hoped to wed her, bed her, and rule the Vale of Arryn by her side. From what Catelyn had seen during her stay at the Eyrie, it was a vain hope. A wooden platform had been built to elevate Robert's chair; there the Lord of the Eyrie sat, giggling and clapping his hands as a humpbacked puppeteer in blue-and-white motley made two wooden knights hack and slash at each other. Pitchers of thick cream and baskets of blackberries had been set out, and the guests were sipping a sweet orange-scented wine from engraved silver cups. A fool's festival, Brynden had called it, and small wonder. Across the terrace, Lysa laughed gaily at some jest of Lord Hunter's, and nibbled a blackberry from the point of Ser Lyn Corbray's dagger. They were the suitors who stood highest in Lysa's favor . . . today, at least. Catelyn would have been hard-pressed to say which man was more unsuitable. Eon Hunter was even older than Jon Arryn had been, half-crippled by gout, and cursed with three quarrelsome sons, each more grasping than the last. Ser Lyn was a different sort of folly; lean and handsome, heir to an ancient but impoverished house, but vain, reckless, hot-tempered . . . and, it was whispered, notoriously uninterested in the intimate charms of women. When Lysa espied Catelyn, she welcomed her with a sisterly embrace and a moist kiss on the cheek. â€Å"Isn't it a lovely morning? The gods are smiling on us. Do try a cup of the wine, sweet sister. Lord Hunter was kind enough to send for it, from his own cellars.† â€Å"Thank you, no. Lysa, we must talk.† â€Å"After,† her sister promised, already beginning to turn away from her. â€Å"Now.† Catelyn spoke more loudly than she'd intended. Men were turning to look. â€Å"Lysa, you cannot mean to go ahead with this folly. Alive, the Imp has value. Dead, he is only food for crows. And if his champion should prevail here—† â€Å"Small chance of that, my lady,† Lord Hunter assured her, patting her shoulder with a liver-spotted hand. â€Å"Ser Vardis is a doughty fighter. He will make short work of the sellsword.† â€Å"Will he, my lord?† Catelyn said coolly. â€Å"I wonder.† She had seen Bronn fight on the high road; it was no accident that he had survived the journey while other men had died. He moved like a panther, and that ugly sword of his seemed a part of his arm. Lysa's suitors were gathering around them like bees round a blossom. â€Å"Women understand little of these things,† Ser Morton Waynwood said. â€Å"Ser Vardis is a knight, sweet lady. This other fellow, well, his sort are all cowards at heart. Useful enough in a battle, with thousands of their fellows around them, but stand them up alone and the manhood leaks right out of them.† â€Å"Say you have the truth of it, then,† Catelyn said with a courtesy that made her mouth ache. â€Å"What will we gain by the dwarf's death? Do you imagine that Jaime will care a fig that we gave his brother a trial before we flung him off a mountain?† â€Å"Behead the man,† Ser Lyn Corbray suggested. â€Å"When the Kingslayer receives the Imp's head, it will be a warning to him,† Lysa gave an impatient shake of her waist-long auburn hair. â€Å"Lord Robert wants to see him fly,† she said, as if that settled the matter. â€Å"And the Imp has only himself to blame. It was he who demanded a trial by combat.† â€Å"Lady Lysa had no honorable way to deny him, even if she'd wished to,† Lord Hunter intoned ponderously. Ignoring them all, Catelyn turned all her force on her sister. â€Å"I remind you, Tyrion Lannister is my prisoner.† â€Å"And I remind you, the dwarf murdered my lord husband!† Her voice rose. â€Å"He poisoned the Hand of the King and left my sweet baby fatherless, and now I mean to see him pay!† Whirling, her skirts swinging around her, Lysa stalked across the terrace. Ser Lyn and Ser Morton and the other suitors excused themselves with cool nods and trailed after her. â€Å"Do you think he did?† Ser Rodrik asked her quietly when they were alone again. â€Å"Murder Lord Jon, that is? The Imp still denies it, and most fiercely . . . â€Å" â€Å"I believe the Lannisters murdered Lord Arryn,† Catelyn replied, â€Å"but whether it was Tyrion, or Ser Jaime, or the queen, or all of them together, I could not begin to say.† Lysa had named Cersei in the letter she had sent to Winterfell, but now she seemed certain that Tyrion was the killer . . . perhaps because the dwarf was here, while the queen was safe behind the walls of the Red Keep, hundreds of leagues to the south. Catelyn almost wished she had burned her sister's letter before reading it. Ser Rodrik tugged at his whiskers. â€Å"Poison, well . . . that could be the dwarf's work, true enough. Or Cersei's. It's said poison is a woman's weapon, begging your pardons, my lady. The Kingslayer, now . . . I have no great liking for the man, but he's not the sort. Too fond of the sight of blood on that golden sword of his. Was it poison, my lady?† Catelyn frowned, vaguely uneasy. â€Å"How else could they make it look a natural death?† Behind her, Lord Robert shrieked with delight as one of the puppet knights sliced the other in half, spilling a flood of red sawdust onto the terrace. She glanced at her nephew and sighed. â€Å"The boy is utterly without discipline. He will never be strong enough to rule unless he is taken away from his mother for a time.† â€Å"His lord father agreed with you,† said a voice at her elbow. She turned to behold Maester Colemon, a cup of wine in his hand. â€Å"He was planning to send the boy to Dragonstone for fostering, you know . . . oh, but I'm speaking out of turn.† The apple of his throat bobbed anxiously beneath the loose maester's chain. â€Å"I fear I've had too much of Lord Hunter's excellent wine. The prospect of bloodshed has my nerves all a-fray . . . â€Å" â€Å"You are mistaken, Maester,† Catelyn said. â€Å"It was Casterly Rock, not Dragonstone, and those arrangements were made after the Hand's death, without my sister's consent.† The maester's head jerked so vigorously at the end of his absurdly long neck that he looked half a puppet himself. â€Å"No, begging your forgiveness, my lady, but it was Lord Jon who—† A bell tolled loudly below them. High lords and serving girls alike broke off what they were doing and moved to the balustrade. Below, two guardsmen in sky-blue cloaks led forth Tyrion Lannister. The Eyrie's plump septon escorted him to the statue in the center of the garden, a weeping woman carved in veined white marble, no doubt meant to be Alyssa. â€Å"The bad little man,† Lord Robert said, giggling. â€Å"Mother, can I make him fly? I want to see him fly.† â€Å"Later, my sweet baby,† Lysa promised him. â€Å"Trial first,† drawled Ser Lyn Corbray, â€Å"then execution.† A moment later the two champions appeared from opposite sides of the garden. The knight was attended by two young squires, the sellsword by the Eyrie's master-at-arms. Ser Vardis Egen was steel from head to heel, encased in heavy plate armor over mail and padded surcoat. Large circular rondels, enameled cream-and-blue in the moon-and-falcon sigil of House Arryn, protected the vulnerable juncture of arm and breast. A skirt of lobstered metal covered him from waist to midthigh, while a solid gorget encircled his throat. Falcon's wings sprouted from the temples of his helm, and his visor was a pointed metal beak with a narrow slit for vision. Bronn was so lightly armored he looked almost naked beside the knight. He wore only a shirt of black oiled ringmail over boiled leather, a round steel halfhelm with a noseguard, and a mail coif. High leather boots with steel shinguards gave some protection to his legs, and discs of black iron were sewn into the fingers of his gloves. Yet Catelyn noted that the sellsword stood half a hand taller than his foe, with a longer reach . . . and Bronn was fifteen years younger, if she was any judge. They knelt in the grass beneath the weeping woman, facing each other, with Lannister between them. The septon removed a faceted crystal sphere from the soft cloth bag at his waist. He lifted it high above his head, and the light shattered. Rainbows danced across the Imp's face. In a high, solemn, singsong voice, the septon asked the gods to look down and bear witness, to find the truth in this man's soul, to grant him life and freedom if he was innocent, death if he was guilty. His voice echoed off the surrounding towers. When the last echo had died away, the septon lowered his crystal and made a hasty departure. Tyrion leaned over and whispered something in Bronn's ear before the guardsmen led him away. The sellsword rose laughing and brushed a blade of grass from his knee. Robert Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie and Defender of the Vale, was fidgeting impatiently in his elevated chair. â€Å"When are they going to fight?† he asked plaintively. Ser Vardis was helped back to his feet by one of his squires. The other brought him a triangular shield almost four feet tall, heavy oak dotted with iron studs. They strapped it to his left forearm. When Lysa's master-at-arms offered Bronn a similar shield, the sellsword spat and waved it away. Three days growth of coarse black beard covered his jaw and cheeks, but if he did not shave it was not for want of a razor; the edge of his sword had the dangerous glimmer of steel that had been honed every day for hours, until it was too sharp to touch. Ser Vardis held out a gauntleted hand, and his squire placed a handsome double-edged longsword in his grasp. The blade was engraved with a delicate silver tracery of a mountain sky; its pommel was a falcon's head, its crossguard fashioned into the shape of wings. â€Å"I had that sword crafted for Jon in King's Landing,† Lysa told her guests proudly as they watched Ser Vardis try a practice cut. â€Å"He wore it whenever he sat the Iron Throne in King Robert's place. Isn't it a lovely thing? I thought it only fitting that our champion avenge Jon with his own blade.† The engraved silver blade was beautiful beyond a doubt, but it seemed to Catelyn that Ser Vardis might have been more comfortable with his own sword. Yet she said nothing; she was weary of futile arguments with her sister. â€Å"Make them fight!† Lord Robert called out. Ser Vardis faced the Lord of the Eyrie and lifted his sword in salute. â€Å"For the Eyrie and the Vale!† Tyrion Lannister had been seated on a balcony across the garden, flanked by his guards. It was to him that Bronn turned with a cursory salute. â€Å"They await your command,† Lady Lysa said to her lord son. â€Å"Fight!† the boy screamed, his arms trembling as they clutched at his chair. Ser Vardis swiveled, bringing up his heavy shield. Bronn turned to face him. Their swords rang together, once, twice, a testing. The sellsword backed off a step. The knight came after, holding his shield before him. He tried a slash, but Bronn jerked back, just out of reach, and the silver blade cut only air. Bronn circled to his right. Ser Vardis turned to follow, keeping his shield between them. The knight pressed forward, placing each foot carefully on the uneven ground. The sellsword gave way, a faint smile playing over his lips. Ser Vardis attacked, slashing, but Bronn leapt away from him, hopping lightly over a low, moss-covered stone. Now the sellsword circled left, away from the shield, toward the knight's unprotected side. Ser Vardis tried a hack at his legs, but he did not have the reach. Bronn danced farther to his left. Ser Vardis turned in place. â€Å"The man is craven,† Lord Hunter declared. â€Å"Stand and fight, coward! † Other voices echoed the sentiment. Catelyn looked to Ser Rodrik. Her master-at-arms gave a curt shake of his head. â€Å"He wants to make Ser Vardis chase him. The weight of armor and shield will tire even the strongest man.† She had seen men practice at their swordplay near every day of her life, had viewed half a hundred tourneys in her time, but this was something different and deadlier: a dance where the smallest misstep meant death. And as she watched, the memory of another duel in another time came back to Catelyn Stark, as vivid as if it had been yesterday. They met in the lower bailey of Riverrun. When Brandon saw that Petyr wore only helm and breastplate and mail, he took off most of his armor. Petyr had begged her for a favor he might wear, but she had turned him away. Her lord father promised her to Brandon Stark, and so it was to him that she gave her token, a pale blue handscarf she had embroidered with the leaping trout of Riverrun. As she pressed it into his hand, she pleaded with him. â€Å"He is only a foolish boy, but I have loved him like a brother. It would grieve me to see him die.† And her betrothed looked at her with the cool grey eyes of a Stark and promised to spare the boy who loved her. That fight was over almost as soon as it began. Brandon was a man grown, and he drove Littlefinger all the way across the bailey and down the water stair, raining steel on him with every step, until the boy was staggering and bleeding from a dozen wounds. â€Å"Yield!† he called, more than once, but Petyr would only shake his head and fight on, grimly. When the river was lapping at their ankles, Brandon finally ended it, with a brutal backhand cut that bit through Petyr's rings and leather into the soft flesh below the ribs, so deep that Catelyn was certain that the wound was mortal. He looked at her as he fell and murmured â€Å"Cat† as the bright blood came flowing out between his mailed fingers. She thought she had forgotten that. That was the last time she had seen his face . . . until the day she was brought before him in King's Landing. A fortnight passed before Littlefinger was strong enough to leave Riverrun, but her lord father forbade her to visit him in the tower where he lay abed. Lysa helped their maester nurse him; she had been softer and shyer in those days. Edmure had called on him as well, but Petyr had sent him away. Her brother had acted as Brandon's squire at the duel, and Littlefinger would not forgive that. As soon as he was strong enough to be moved, Lord Hoster Tully sent Petyr Baelish away in a closed litter, to finish his healing on the Fingers, upon the windswept jut of rock where he'd been born. The ringing clash of steel on steel jarred Catelyn back to the present. Ser Vardis was coming hard at Bronn, driving into him with shield and sword. The sellsword scrambled backward, checking each blow, stepping lithely over rock and root, his eyes never leaving his foe. He was quicker, Catelyn saw; the knight's silvered sword never came near to touching him, but his own ugly grey blade hacked a notch from Ser Vardis's shoulder plate. The brief flurry of fighting ended as swiftly as it had begun when Bronn sidestepped and slid behind the statue of the weeping woman. Ser Vardis lunged at where he had been, striking a spark off the pale marble of Alyssa's thigh. â€Å"They're not fighting good, Mother,† the Lord of the Eyrie complained. â€Å"I want them to fight.† â€Å"They will, sweet baby,† his mother soothed him. â€Å"The sellsword can't run all day.† Some of the lords on Lysa's terrace were making wry jests as they refilled their wine cups, but across the garden, Tyrion Lannister's mismatched eyes watched the champions dance as if there were nothing else in the world. Bronn came out from behind the statue hard and fast, still moving left, aiming a two-handed cut at the knight's unshielded right side. Ser Vardis blocked, but clumsily, and the sellsword's blade flashed upward at his head. Metal rang, and a falcon's wing collapsed with a crunch. Ser Vardis took a half step back to brace himself, raised his shield. Oak chips flew as Bronn's sword hacked at the wooden wall. The sellsword stepped left again, away from the shield, and caught Ser Vardis across the stomach, the razor edge of his blade leaving a bright gash when it bit into the knight's plate. Ser Vardis drove forward off his back foot, his own silver blade descending in a savage arc. Bronn slammed it aside and danced away. The knight crashed into the weeping woman, rocking her on her plinth. Staggered, he stepped backward, his head turning this way and that as he searched for his foe. The slit visor of his helm narrowed his vision. â€Å"Behind you, ser!† Lord Hunter shouted, too late. Bronn brought his sword down with both hands, catching Ser Vardis in the elbow of his sword arm. The thin lobstered metal that protected the joint crunched. The knight grunted, turning, wrenching his weapon up. This time Bronn stood his ground. The swords flew at each other, and their steel song filled the garden and rang off the white towers of the Eyrie. â€Å"Ser Vardis is hurt,† Ser Rodrik said, his voice grave. Catelyn did not need to be told; she had eyes, she could see the bright finger of blood running along the knight's forearm, the wetness inside the elbow joint. Every parry was a little slower and a little lower than the one before. Ser Vardis turned his side to his foe, trying to use his shield to block instead, but Bronn slid around him, quick as a cat. The sellsword seemed to be getting stronger. His cuts were leaving their marks now. Deep shiny gashes gleamed all over the knight's armor, on his right thigh, his beaked visor, crossing on his breastplate, a long one along the front of his gorget. The moon-and-falcon rondel over Ser Vardis's right arm was sheared clean in half, hanging by its strap. They could hear his labored breath, rattling through the air holes in his visor. Blind with arrogance as they were, even the knights and lords of the Vale could see what was happening below them, yet her sister could not. â€Å"Enough, Ser Vardis!† Lady Lysa called down. â€Å"Finish him now, my baby is growing tired.† And it must be said of Ser Vardis Egen that he was true to his lady's command, even to the last. One moment he was reeling backward, half-crouched behind his scarred shield; the next he charged. The sudden bull rush caught Bronn off balance. Ser Vardis crashed into him and slammed the lip of his shield into the sellsword's face. Almost, almost, Bronn lost his feet . . . he staggered back, tripped over a rock, and caught hold of the weeping woman to keep his balance. Throwing aside his shield, Ser Vardis lurched after him, using both hands to raise his sword. His right arm was blood from elbow to fingers now, yet his last desperate blow would have opened Bronn from neck to navel . . . if the sellsword had stood to receive it. But Bronn jerked back. Jon Arryn's beautiful engraved silver sword glanced off the marble elbow of the weeping woman and snapped clean a third of the way up the blade. Bronn put his shoulder into the statue's back. The weathered likeness of Alyssa Arryn tottered and fell with a great crash, and Ser Vardis Egen went down beneath her. Bronn was on him in a heartbeat, kicking what was left of his shattered rondel aside to expose the weak spot between arm and breastplate. Ser Vardis was lying on his side, pinned beneath the broken torso of the weeping woman. Catelyn heard the knight groan as the sellsword lifted his blade with both hands and drove it down and in with all his weight behind it, under the arm and through the ribs. Ser Vardis Egen shuddered and lay still. Silence hung over the Eyrie. Bronn yanked off his halfhelm and let it fall to the grass. His lip was smashed and bloody where the shield had caught him, and his coal-black hair was soaked with sweat. He spit out a broken tooth. â€Å"Is it over, Mother?† the Lord of the Eyrie asked. No, Catelyn wanted to tell him, it's only now beginning. â€Å"Yes,† Lysa said glumly, her voice as cold and dead as the captain of her guard. â€Å"Can I make the little man fly now?† Across the garden, Tyrion Lannister got to his feet. â€Å"Not this little man,† he said. â€Å"This little man is going down in the turnip hoist, thank you very much.† â€Å"You presume—† Lysa began. â€Å"I presume that House Arryn remembers its own words,† the Imp said. â€Å"As High as Honor.† â€Å"You promised I could make him fly,† the Lord of the Eyrie screamed at his mother. He began to shake. Lady Lysa's face was flushed with fury. â€Å"The gods have seen fit to proclaim him innocent, child. We have no choice but to free him.† She lifted her voice. â€Å"Guards. Take my lord of Lannister and his . . . creature here out of my sight. Escort them to the Bloody Gate and set them free. See that they have horses and supplies sufficient to reach the Trident, and make certain all their goods and weapons are returned to them. They shall need them on the high road.† â€Å"The high road,† Tyrion Lannister said. Lysa allowed herself a faint, satisfied smile. It was another sort of death sentence, Catelyn realized. Tyrion Lannister must know that as well. Yet the dwarf favored Lady Arryn with a mocking bow. â€Å"As you command, my lady,† he said. â€Å"I believe we know the way.†

irony of macbeth essays

irony of macbeth essays Shakespeares play Macbeth portrays much irony. Such as the scene where Macbeth is made to believe that he is supposed to become king when really he is not. Another ironic scene is where Macbeth, on the outside gives the impression that he is trustworthy and loves Duncan, yet on the inside he longs for the death of Duncan. Also ironic is where Duncan is walking into Macbeths castle thinking it is going to be a pleasant place where he will be welcomed graciously; yet, he is walking into his own death-trap. When Macbeth spoke to the three witches, they told him that they predicted that he would be the next king. All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, thane of Glamis. All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! All hail, Macbeth! That shalt be king hereafter! (1.3.51-54). Macbeth, who had no proof what so ever of the witches being capable of predicting future events, foolishly believed them. This scene depicts irony because Macbeth now believes he is going to be a king, when really he isnt because the witches have no idea as to what they are talking about. Another ironic scene was when Duncan was asking how he could repay Macbeth. Macbeth said The service and loyalty I owe in doing it pays itself. Your highness part is to receive our duties, and our duties are to your throne and state children and servants, which do but what they should by doing everything safe toward your love and honor. (1. 4. 25-30) Whats ironic about this scene is that Macbeth is making it look like he is extremely kind, worthy, and loyal to Duncan, when actually he wants to kill him. Macbeth is acting this way to give the impression that if Duncan were ever to be murdered, Macbeth would be the last person to be accused of the murder. The next ironic scene is where Duncan is coming to Macbeths household believing that he is going to be greatly appreciated and warmly ...

Quantitative Nursing Research Report Analysis Essay

Quantitative Nursing Research Report Analysis - Essay Example 569, Background section). The purpose of the study was to show the relationship between CTS and CTD of nursing students to nursing educators so that they may take this into account when designing course work and evaluating students. While a few studies have been done, the author wanted to add to the body of research. It was also intended to identify areas in which further research is needed. The main research questions were to discover if there is a relation between CTS and CTD, if that relation remains constant through each academic level, and if there is improvement through each academic level. The independent study variables were the four cohorts of the student sample: Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors and Seniors. The expectation was that each group would do progressively better at CTS/CTD testing. The dependent variables are the CTST and CCTDI scores and the means of comparison used. That is, comparison of CTS to CTD and the increase or decrease of both over the course of baccalaureate study. Students as individuals were not assessed over a period of time so that scores could be compared in that manner. Instead scores were compared to different students at different levels in the baccalaureate program. Also, there was no measurement of students' level of concentration on any particular day as influenced by amount of sleep obtained, mood, or other factors that might have influenced the test scores (Heffner 2004, chap.1, section 3). Conceptual ModelTheoretical Framework This study clearly conforms to Dewey's Scientific Method using the following steps in serial order: 1. Identify the problem, 2. Determine the hypothesis, 3. Collect and analyze data, 4. Formulate conclusions, 5. Apply the conclusions to the hypothesis (Heffner, 2004, chap. 1, section 1). Review of Related Literature Related literature, as cited within the article makes the following points. Critical thinking and disposition are integral to nursing education and to the practice of nursing. This is especially important with increased technological advances and the increased complexity of skills needed to care for more acutely ill patients and the ethical issues that surround that care (Study, p. 579, para. 1). In the third paragraph of the Introduction, the author attempts to define critical thinking through various references and so define what is to be quantified in the study. Paragraph four relates the need to teach critical thinking skills to nursing students and fosters questions as to how that might be accomplished and by what means performance might be measured. Next, there is a review of past studies and a declaration of need to add to that body of evidence (Study, p. 569-570, Introduction Section,

Film Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words

Film - Essay Example I will have spent some time with a friend I haven’t seen in a year, and that’s the end of it. I can’t believe this is so hard for you. What are you going to do when my work starts taking me to remote places around the world? Okay. This is Neigh, and it is about 10 p.m. on January 7, 2008. I decided that it was best, safest really, to put into the record the document that is the reason behind this trip – expedition even. Two days ago, I bought a box of surprise junk at an auction. When I got home, I found an old leather bound book in the box. There were a few drawings in the book, and I immediately recognized it is Celtic. The book is written in Celtic, but it has pictures, too. I could tell from the pictures that the book belonged to a Celtic priest, a Druid. It has drawings of Stonehenge in it, and an alignment of the planets that shows Venus, Jupiter and the Moon in conjunction with one another. That planetary line up is going to happen this weekend, beginning on Friday. This alignment will last a week, and then will not happen again for at least a thousand years. According to the book, the alignment will open a gate to another dimension on that night. I am going to be there Friday night, and i f there is a door, if this book is legitimate, I am going through. Well, it is not going to change tonight whatever is left, or isn’t. Besides, look, the missing stone is not even the one that is shown in the drawing. Your stone is still there. You know, as much as I don’t believe this, I kind of have this feeling. By the way, where is the original book? Sitting at Neigh’s desk, Sayge is busy reading about Stonehenge on the computer when she notices the ancient book. She closes Neigh’s laptop, takes the book and goes to the couch where she snuggles in, covers her long legs with a throw, and begins reading the book. She falls asleep. Neigh and Franklin getting out of Neigh’s car at Stonehenge. Neigh