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Wednesday, August 26, 2020
Ethical use of information technology Article Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words
Moral utilization of data innovation - Article Example Government Intelligence Organization and for breaking the uprightness and security of the U.S. Flying corps site (Chellel 1). In May 2013, they were imprisoned as these trustworthy associations endured with weighty misfortunes of notoriety and cash because of these programmers. In prison, Ackroyd was genuinely liable and felt very humiliated for what he did and how seriously he utilized his talented aptitudes (Chellel 1). He chose to address every one of his slip-ups when he escapes prison, and utilize his regular gift of capacity to hack for the generosity of his country and individuals. Be that as it may, he was as yet dicey if life would give him one more opportunity and he would persuade any chance to be a piece of the good society and study further, ever. Ackroydââ¬â¢s detainment period was abbreviated to nine months. At the point when he was discharged out of prison in February, his sincere goals helped him and he prevailing with regards to getting confirmation at Sheffield Hallam for a Masters capability in the field of Information Systems Security (Chellel 1). It was not late after, whenever he again got a once in a lifetime opportunity to demonstrate his aptitudes, however now for a decent reason. His job became dynamic when organizations critically requested moral hacking, because of flooding in of digital security. Organizations came up short on the prompt ability required to shield their business from suffocating in the surges of digital security. LulzSecââ¬â¢s hacking exercises against Pay Pal and Mastercard Inc. were seen at a promotion when they dismissed WikiLeaks to work for their installments from their foundation. These organizations got exceptionally ready when Wikileaks dispatched all military classified data. LelzSecââ¬â¢s individuals led their action by recording FBI discussions, transferring all mystery information and bogus cases on YouTube. They turned into an extraordinary danger for the country. Ackroyd has a brave job in this demonstration. Server impediments and concealed examples were consistently a rush for Ackroyd (Chellel 1). With his inclination of accepting the covered up as a test and diving deep down, Ackroyd
Saturday, August 22, 2020
Soviets Change the Calendar
Soviets Change the Calendar At the point when the Soviets took over Russia during the October Revolution of 1917, their objective was to radically change society. One way they endeavored to do this was by changing the schedule. In 1929, they made the Soviet Eternal Calendar, which changed the structure of the week, month, and the year. Become familiar with the historical backdrop of the schedule and how the Soviets transformed it. History of the Calendar For a huge number of years, individuals have been attempting to make a precise schedule. One of the primary kinds of schedules depended on lunar months. Be that as it may, while lunar months were anything but difficult to ascertain in light of the fact that the moons stages were unmistakably obvious to all, they have no relationship with the sun powered year. This represented an issue for the two trackers and gatherers - and significantly more so for ranchers - who required an exact method to anticipate seasons. Antiquated Egyptians, despite the fact that not really known for their aptitudes in science, were the first to compute a sunlight based year. Maybe they were the first in view of their reliance on the normal beat of the Nile, whose rising and flooding was intently attached to seasons. As ahead of schedule as 4241 BCE, the Egyptians had made a schedule comprised of a year of 30 days, in addition to five additional days toward the year's end. This 365-day schedule was incredibly precise for a people who despite everything didn't have the foggiest idea about the Earth spun around the sun. Obviously, since the genuine sun powered year is 365.2424 days long, this antiquated Egyptian schedule was not great. After some time, seasons would step by step move through every one of the a year, enduring the whole year in 1,460 years. Caesar Makes Reforms In 46 BCE, Julius Caesar, supported by Alexandrian space expert Sosigenes, redid the schedule. In what is currently known as the Julian schedule, Caesar made a yearly schedule of 365 days, isolated into a year. Understanding that a sun based year was more like 365 1/4 days as opposed to only 365, Caesar added one additional day to the schedule like clockwork. In spite of the fact that the Julian schedule was significantly more precise than the Egyptian schedule, it was longer than the genuine sun oriented year by 11 minutes and 14 seconds. That may not appear a lot, however more than a few centuries, the erroneous conclusion got recognizable. Catholic Change to the Calendar In 1582 CE, Pope Gregory XIII arranged a little change to the Julian schedule. He set up that each centennial year, (for example, 1800, 1900, and so on.) would not be a jump year (like it in any case would have been in the Julian schedule), aside from if the centennial year could be partitioned by 400. (This is the reason the year 2000 was a jump year.) Remembered for the new schedule was a one-time correction of the date. Pope Gregory XIII arranged that in 1582, October 4 would be trailed by October 15 to fix the missing time made by the Julian schedule. In any case, since this new schedule change was made by a Catholic pope, few out of every odd nation hopped to roll out the improvement. While England and the American provinces at long last exchanged over to what got known as the Gregorian schedule in 1752, Japan didnt acknowledge it until 1873, Egypt until 1875, and China in 1912. Lenins Changes Despite the fact that there had been conversation and petitions in Russia to change to the new schedule, the tsar never endorsed its adoption.à After the Soviets effectively took over Russia in 1917, V.I. Lenin concurred that the Soviet Union should join the remainder of the world in utilizing the Gregorian schedule. Also, to fix the date, the Soviets requested that February 1, 1918 would really become February 14, 1918. (This difference in date despite everything creates some turmoil; for instance, the Soviet takeover of Russia, known as the October Revolution, occurred in November in the new schedule.) The Soviet Eternal Calendar This was not the last time the Soviets were to change their schedule. Breaking down each part of society, the Soviets took a gander at the schedule. Albeit every day depends on sunshine and evening, every month could be corresponded to the lunar cycle, and every year depends on the time the Earth takes to circumnavigate the sun, the possibility of seven days was a simply self-assertive measure of time. The seven-day week has a long history, which the Soviets related to religion since the Bible expresses that God labored for six days and afterward took the seventh day to rest. In 1929, the Soviets made another schedule, known as the Soviet Eternal Calendar. In spite of the fact that keeping the 365-day year, the Soviets made a five-day week, with at regular intervals rising to a month. To represent the missing five days (or six of every a jump year), there were five (or six) occasions set all through the year.â A Five-Day Week The five-day week comprised of four days of work and one free day. Be that as it may, the day away from work was not the equivalent for everybody. Expecting to keep production lines running ceaselessly, laborers would take amazed vacation days. Every individual was doled out a shading (yellow, pink, red, purple, or green), which related with which of the five days of the week they would take off. Tragically, this didn't expand profitability. Partially on the grounds that it demolished family life since numerous relatives would have various days off from work. Likewise, the machines couldn't deal with consistent use and would regularly separate. It Didnt Work In December 1931, the Soviets changed to a six-day week in which everybody got that three day weekend. Despite the fact that this freed the nation of the strict Sunday idea and permitted families to fraternize on their day away from work, it didn't build effectiveness. In 1940, the Soviets reestablished the seven-day week.
Thursday, August 13, 2020
Slippery Slope The Story of a Frazzled Sophomore
Slippery Slope The Story of a Frazzled Sophomore Friday night I slept for 10 hours and 8 glorious minutes. If you subtract the 4 minutes I spent staring at the squiggly darkness inside of my eyelids before I drifted off, it was actually only 10 hours and 4 minutes, still a respectable amount of time by most peoplesâ standards. Saturday morning, however, when I woke up at 9:29am for the last conference tennis match of the season, instead of the spry, bright-eyed youth that I should have been, especially considering how much sleep I had gotten, I felt tired. Tired. Exhausted. Bushed. Ready to curl up into a ball and sleep, even though I had just woken up. The last three weeks have been hard, and this Saturday has been the first time Iâve really been able to breath. I know that there are probably people out there juggling three times as many things as I am, but stress is relative and if the bone-wearying fatigue that still permeates my body and makes my eyes feel heavy is any indication, then for all intents and purposes, I was stressed out. It doesnât start out that way. The year begins innocuously enough, wooing you into a sense of calm and control: psets are shorter than usual, lectures are still covering old material, and there are no exams in sight. Perhaps a summer free of academic worries had stripped me of the urgency that just one particularly nasty hell week can instill in you, something I thought I had trained myself to overcome last year. Instead, I sat in the dining halls for hours, laughing over a frothy cup of chocolate milk and a plate of cheesy waffles. I went out and about, spending time with friends who were much better conversationalists than my textbooks and psets. I made time for things that made me happy. Everything seemed to be going smoothly and the weeks slipped by me, leaving without my permission. I was, of course, still attending every single lecture and recitation (barring the few I missed for tennis) and I was still finishing my psets on time. What I didnât realize at the time was that the crack in my façade of control had already begun growing, slowly at first, like the spidery hairline fractures that race across your windshield when it gets struck by a pebble. Each hour I spent on the internet watching inane videos, each time I clicked on the Buzzfeed article about banana slicers or puppies with moustaches, each time I told myself Iâd âcatch up laterâ, was just another tiny rock being lobbed at my metaphorical windshield. And as classes started ramping up, I found myself careening towards midterms at a velocity no longer under my control. Week four was when things started to get hairy. Probably like how macaroni and cheese would be if it were made by an anthropomorphic dog that sheds all the time. My first exam of the year was for 5.13 (Organic Chemistry II) and Wednesday seemed a long ways off. I had time, right? Perhaps it was the universe trying to teach me a lesson about leaving things until the last minute, or a classic case of Murphyâs Law, but come Sunday night, my throat got that scratchy, tight feeling that is so often the harbinger of snotty, feverish misery. By Monday morning, I was fully immersed in a cloud of good old fashioned cold symptoms and I wanted nothing more than to sleep in a swathe of extra-soft blankets. So I did. Instead of spending my nights catching up on readings and lecture notes, I was catching up on sleep. Tuesday night was the first night of feverishness so by the time the morning exam rolled by, the only thing I wanted to do was roll back into bed. Even Tylenol couldnât really bring my fever down when it peaked that night as I scrambled to finish my 20.110 (Thermodynamics) pset in one night. The unplanned sickness had smashed into my windshield with the force of a really hard kidney bean*, kicked up by the wheels of Bad Timing. Looking ahead, I knew next week that I would have a 6.0001 exam Monday night, an 8-page essay for STS.010 (Neuroscience and Society) due Tuesday and a 20.110 exam on Wednesday night, but before I had time to regroup, I hopped into a van and left campus Thursday night for tennis ITAs, playing tennis and cheering for my teammates from 8am until after dinner. Time was slipping away from me and no matter how hard I wished I hadnât wasted so much time at the beginning of the year, there wasnât much I could do now. Things were starting to spiral out of control. On the day of my first exam of the week, feeling as if I had not studied enough the night before, I spent my other lecture hours furiously scribbling microscopic words onto the single 8.5â X 11â cheat sheet we were allowed to have for the exam, falling even farther behind. I felt like I was sinking into quicksand: the harder I flailed, the faster I fell behind. The exam ended at 9pm and I returned to my room, stressed out an d in no mood to write a humanities paper on fMRI usage in popular media. Unfortunately, like a roly-poly reflexively curling up into a ball the second you touch it, my defense mechanisms kicked in, reacting to the stressful feelings that were washing over me in waves. Instead of getting straight to work, I dithered around for a couple of hours, hours I definitely did not have the luxury of wasting. Avoidance was the new game. It was a frustrating cycle of helplessness, stress, distress, and escapism from it all via mental disconnection. Apparently, my mind had been hardwired to fly, fast and far, instead of sticking around to fight. After an exhaustion-induced nap, I woke up at 2am and started sifting through the internet and the online readings for whatever I needed to finish my paper by Tuesday 2pm. Because caffeine makes me feel nauseated and weak at the knees, I didnât have any chemical crutches to lean on. No outside ones at least. My own adrenaline was pulsating through my veins with head-pounding speed, a desperate biological attempt to push myself through a hellish night and morning of furious typing. At 1:54pm, I stood bleary eyed in the Maseeh Athena cluster, printing out my essay, too numb to feel relief. That night, instead of cramming for my 20.110 exam the next night, studying that I had put off until the last day, I collapsed into bed and slept for a blissful 11 hours, deciding that sleep was a more valuable commodity than the frantic throes of late night studying. The next day, cramming and cheat sheet making bled into the lecture hours of my other classes and that night, I got steam-rolled by the 20.110 exam. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Then fast forward one week. Last Thursday night, I was at the end of a long road, my windshield smashed to bits by a thousand avoidable pebbles and my mind and body aching to shed the weight of psychological debris created, most notably, by sleep deprivation and a self-induced tenseness. The only thing standing between me and a three day weekend free from pressing due dates and the looming shadow of exams were two psets and preparation for a discussion led by me in my HASS class (are you even surprised at this point that I had left everything until the last minute?). Kidney bean number two (if you will recall kidney bean number one: my unanticipated sickness) came in the form of an overnight shift for the MIT ambulance from 11pm to 8am, the same night that I had these three things to finish. On shift, I get to hang out in the MIT-EMS bunk room in the basement of Stata until someone calls the MIT police and we get dispatched. Pset #1 (20.110) was only four questions long and took, thankfully, only thirty minutes to finish in the company of my two friends who had come with me to the bunkroom. Pset #2 (5.13) would take much longer and the preparation for my HASS would consist of 30+ pages of reading on the neuroscience of empathy. Of course, being the black cloud that I am (a term used to indicate someone who gets multiple emergency calls while on shift), we were called three times that night, once at 11:30pm, once at 3:30am, and again around 5:30am. In accordance with the numerous interruptions, interruptions I was more than happy to take though, since being an EMT is something I greatly enjoy, pset #2 was finished around 7am and HASS reading commenced immediately after. I had until 2pm to finish reading and to make a hand-out for my recitation group summarizing the readings and main ideas captured in lecture. Iâve been parroting back the same old metaphor of a slippery slope and damaged windshields in an effort to describe my situation, so Iâm sure you already know whatâs coming next: Lectures for other classes were spent writing up my worksheet, I fell farther behind, etcetera, etcetera. Friday was just another unwelcome instance â" the worst kind of déjà vu. I barely made it through the presentation, my words stumbling over one another in a jittery excitement fueled by about 1 hour of sleep. Iâve been working on this post since Saturday morning, trying to paint an accurate picture of my own personal hell, trying to tell all you strangers out there how sometimes, things can just start spiraling out of control, trying, not to complain, but to explain, to understand why I let things get so far out of hand. So is there a moral to this story? Yes. If I threw in a couple more anthropomorphic characters we could call this a fable and sell it as a childrenâs book. As it stands, one dog making macaroni isnt quite enough to catapult it into that genre, but hopefully we can agree that, if anything, this is a cautionary tale. If not for any of you, then at least for future-Krystal. I do want to make something absolutely, and unequivocally clear: I donât regret any of the time I spent building friendships, old and new, or doing the things that made me laugh and smile at the beginning of the year. I never want to regret the things that make me happy. People can start defining their lives and their values by numbers and quantifiable achievements, and while our society inherently places value in the physical and tangible (and by the transitive property, so must I to some extent. Iâm looking at you, medical school admissions), we canât let the intangible slip away because weâre too busy chasing that 5.0 or that title or that position. Find your balance; Iâm still searching for mine. What I do regret is not prioritizing my studies over inane, time-wasting trivialities. Did I really need to watch that video clip about grilled cheese sandwiches when I should have been studying? No. No. No. Nonono. Let me repeat that in case I wasnât clear: No. The answer being ânoâ for virtually any frivolous activity you could possibly want to insert into that sentence. I regret not staying on top of the lecture material and leaving unanswered questions until the last day. I regret not starting psets earlier. I regret not writing out my cheat sheets ahead of time. I regret not sleeping enough to the point where playing tennis made my stomach hurt and just staring at words made my head ache. I regret being so tired that I forgot to drink enough water. I regret not taking better care of myself. I canât control the unexpected things in life, the things that ambush you when you least expect it, like angry kidney beans (this is perhaps not one of my finest extended metaphors but please, bear with me). What I can control is how I handle myself in every moment leading up to then. You have to prepare for the unexpected. If your life remains surprise-kidney-bean-free, then youâll be even better off, but on the off chance that something does go wrong (as it so often does in life), youâll be ready for it. Studying takes discipline and effort (if for you it doesnât, then I envy you), and as I move forward in the year, hopefully leaving the slippery slope far, far behind in my rearview mirror, Iâll think back to these last three weeks and remember how little I ever want to feel this way again. I have no exams or essays this week, just three psets due on Friday, consequently, the day I leave for another weekend long tennis tournament. Iâll be spending the next few days catching up on some much needed sleep and enjoying the bounties of Mondayâs apple picking adventure. Itâs easy to look back on past events and point out all of your flaws and mistakes, to make promises to yourself. Itâs much harder to follow through, to actually change. About three weeks ago in 6.0001, we were learning about faulty algorithms. The professor used the back of a shampoo bottle as a prime example: Lather. Rinse. Repeat. At no point is the user allowed to terminate the loop. After lathering and rinsing, they are doomed to repeat the wash cycle over and over again in an infinite loop of soapy, bubbly scrubbiness. Sometimes, people get caught up in bad habits that are in and of themselves infinite loops, habits that facilitate their own recurrence, slippery slopes that we just canât seem to escape. The best we can do is take a moment, evaluate our situation, and most importantly, recognize that something is wrong. Maybe if we try hard enough, or if we get the right support, we can access our own source codes and reprogram the loop. Or perhaps, if itâs the right thing to do, we can terminate it altogether.
Saturday, May 23, 2020
Spanking A Child Is Wrong And Harmful - 1413 Words
What goes through your head when someone asks,â⬠How did you discipline your children?â⬠Parents will either lead in one of three ways: strict discipline, mild discipline, or no discipline at all. No matter how a parent disciplines their children, there will be complications in a home, but when parents can no longer be ââ¬Å"parentsâ⬠due to others trying to step in and control their style of parenting, that is where a problem comes up. There are people who think that spanking a child is wrong and harmful to the child, and will harm the child psychologically as well. There are people who believe that the only way to influence good behavior is to be their friend; a parent has to be a friend and a mentor in order to create a positive outcome. Thisâ⬠¦show more contentâ⬠¦In addition to many parents using spanking as a form of discipline because of their childhood, a personal account from a man who is a father today gave a reporter a few moments of his time to speak of what his life was like as a child. He said that his parents treated him with love and compassion, but were not afraid to ââ¬Å"spare the rodâ⬠when he or his siblings misbehaved. He said that being a parent now he dreads hearing that phrase being said from his wife, but he understands that a man has a more authoritative voice over children due to a manââ¬â¢s usual size and strength. The man said that he can count on his fingers the number of times he has spanked his children, which shows that his children have been raised properly to not disobey their parents, and everyone knows that they will misbehave eventually somewhere down the line. This man did not want the usual stereotype of the ââ¬Å"man of the houseâ⬠and made it to where his kids could function how they should without constantly having to tell them to behave (Adler 80). To me, this father has raised his children a certain way to where he does not have to constantly punish them. He only had to disciplin e his children once or twice in order for them to understand what it was that they were doing wrong, and that it is not right to do it again. This type of parenting comes with being patient and understanding that sometimes children can not comprehend everything they are told. In the same fashion as the benefits of earlyShow MoreRelatedArguments on Spanking Essay505 Words à |à 3 Pagespeople do not believe in spanking are spanking can cause harmful side effects, spanking is no more effective than other punishments, and spanking promotes violence in children. Some harmful side effects that could possibly be caused by spanking are children suffering from depression, being inferior in their school performance, or having problems later on in life. It is impossible to see side effects because they are not usually revealed immediately. People also believe that spanking cannot be proven toRead MoreThe Importance Of Parental Spanking Of Children1540 Words à |à 7 Pagestheir children because the parental spanking of children can be harmful to the behavioral and social development of their children. Parental spanking of children is a violent disciplinary technique where a parent hits childrens behinds with an open hand or object in order to deter childrens beh avior in a way the parents may perceive as negative. I grew up in a home where my parents spanked me and my three younger brothers. I have witnessed parental spanking of children practiced first hand. IRead MoreWhy Spanking Children Is Wrong1453 Words à |à 6 PagesWhy Spanking Children is Wrong Parents have been spanking their children for hundreds of years, but recently this practice has come into question. The concern is not regarding the effectiveness of spanking but the correctness of spanking. Parents should not be allowed to strike their children. Child abuse is defined as any unnecessary or intentional physical or emotional or sexual mistreatment of children. Spanking is not the only method of child discipline. Spanking is not even the most effectiveRead MorePersuasive Essay : Spanking A Child1236 Words à |à 5 Pages Spanking a child in todayââ¬â¢s society is a common misconception, that is seen as either discipline, or abuse. It seems that thereââ¬â¢s a less number of parents that are against and even afraid to spank their children, than those who believe itââ¬â¢s an effective way of discipline. As a child, alongsides with my sister, we were spanked when misbehaved, making me believe that itââ¬â¢s okay to discipline your child. With the correct intention in mind, spanking shouldnââ¬â¢t be harmful towards the child and should beRead MoreSpanking Essay1600 Words à |à 7 Pagessaid they have been disciplined by spanking. Spanking had become the norm in many household across America. In fact, the percentage of spanking in America is increasing by 5% each year. But why is spanking so popular in America you may be wondering? Well surprisingly it has a lot to do with traditions, adults who are parents in the 21st century grew up hearing ââ¬Å"spare the rod and spoil the childâ⬠o r ââ¬Å"take a paddle to you ââ¬Å"causing them to be accustom to spanking because it was used frequently in theirRead MoreEffects of Corporal Punishment on Children When Used in the Home1354 Words à |à 6 PagesSpanker and Nonspankers: Where They Get Information on Spanking, she defines corporal punishment as the use of physical force with the intention of causing a child to experience pain, but not injury, for purposes of correction or control of the childs behavior (2002, p.1). Dictionary.com defines corporal punishment in less specific terms, saying that corporal punishment is simply physical punishment, such as spanking, inflicted on a child by an adult in authority. These definitions differ someRead MoreDiscipline that Encourages Moral Behavior Essay960 Words à |à 4 Pagesteach a child to consider others feelings. For example, if your child is playing at the park and they hit another child what do you do? A powerful tool to use is talk to your child about the event of hitting another child and then help them to see how what they done hurt the other childs feelings. It is important to use positive reinforcement when having your child process what they have done. Ask your child what they could have done differently instead of hitting the other child. Once your child tellsRead MoreThe Children May Suffer: The Negative Impacts of Corporal Punishment 1685 Words à |à 7 Pagesbelt, he slowly backs away, he does not go far, as she quickly grabs him by his shirt. She then start to beat his hands with the belt, and then turns him around and starts spanking him on the behind. Throughout the whole time, the young boyââ¬â¢s eyes reflect fear, pain, and anger. Such corporal punishment is also known as spanking, beating, whipping, hitting, and sometimes even abuse. Although not all parentsââ¬â¢ enforce corporal punishment to this extent, the reality of corporal punishment is that it shouldRead MoreSpanking a Child and Child Abuse1076 Words à |à 5 PagesSpanking a child is not against the law in most places. However, parents who use it in their homes are being accused of child abuse. The Chicago Tribune published an article that urged readers to report child abuse when they become aware of it. In the article ââ¬Å"Child abuse in plain Viewâ⬠the author describes spanking as a type of abuse that happens behind closed doors (ââ¬Å"Child abuse in plain Viewâ⬠). Like most critics of corporal punishment, the author is trying to link spanking to abuse. The author`sRead MoreForms of Discipline: Punishment is too Aggressive805 Words à |à 4 Pagesmothers report that their child will continue to repeat their behavior they were disciplined for (Ogilvie). Based of this information, the effectiveness of this form of discipline seems to be incredibly low. Now consider another fact: how harmful is this to children physically and mentally? Would this affect them as they grow up and even continue to affect them into their adulth ood? If it fails to do anything beneficial, obviously, unforeseen consequences will be the result. Spanking children is not effective
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
Terms of Arithmetic and Math in Spanish
You can talk about math in Spanish by learning a few basic terms. Many of the words are ones you already may know from other contexts. Spanish Terms of Arithmetic Here are the words for the simple mathematical functions and how theyre used with numbers: Addition (Suma):à Dos mà ¡s tres son cinco. (Two plus three is five.) Note that in other contexts, mà ¡s is usually an adverb. Subtraction (Resta):à Cinco menos cuatro son uno. (Five minus four is one.) Multiplication (Multiplicacià ³n):à Tres por cuatro son doce. (Three times four is twelve.) In other contexts, por is a common preposition. Division (Divisià ³n):à Doce dividido entre cuatro son tres. (Twelve divided by four is three.) Doce dividido por cuatro son tres. (Twelve divided by four is three.) Entre is another common preposition. Note that all of these sentences use the verb son, which is plural, in contrast with the singular verb is of English. It is also possible to use es orà the phrase es igual a (is equal to). Other Mathematical Terms Here are some less common mathematical terms: el cuadrado de ââ¬â the square ofel cubo de ââ¬â the cube ofecuacià ³n ââ¬â equationelevado a la enà ©sima potencia ââ¬â raised to the nth powerfuncià ³n ââ¬â functionnà ºmero imaginario ââ¬â imaginary numberpromedio ââ¬â average, meanquebrado, fraccià ³n ââ¬â fractionraà z cuadrada ââ¬â square rootraà z cà ºbica ââ¬â cube root Sample Sentences Solo un idiota que no sabe que dos mà ¡s dos sonà cuatro le creerà a. (Only an idiot who doesnt know that two plus two equals four would believe him.) Una fraccià ³n es un nà ºmeroà que se obtiene de dividir un entero en partes iguales. (A fraction is a number that is obtained by dividing a whole number into equal parts.) Pi se obtiene al dividir la circunferencia de un cà rculo del dià ¡metro. (Pi is obtained by dividing the circumference of a circle by the diameter.) El triple de un nà ºmero menos el doble del mismo nà ºmero son ese nà ºmero. (Three times a number minus two times that number is that number.) Una funcià ³n es como una mà ¡quina: tiene una entrada y una salida. (A function is like a machine: It has an input and an output.) Una ecuacià ³n es una igualdad matemà ¡tica entre dos expresiones matemà ¡ticas. (An equation is an equality between two mathematical expressions.) La ciudad està ¡ dividida en dos partes iguales. (The city is divided into two equal parts.) à ¿Cuà ¡l es el resultado de dividir 20 por 0.5? (What is the quotient of 20 divided by 0.5?) El cuadrado de un nà ºmero menos el doble del mismo nà ºmero son 48. à ¿Cuà ¡l es ese nà ºmero? (The square root of a number minus double the same number is 48. What is that number?) El promedio de edad de los estudiantes es de 25 aà ±os. (The average age of the students is 25.) La divisià ³n entre cero es una indeterminacià ³n. Asà à la expresià ³n 1/0 carece de sentio. (Division by zero yields an indeterminable number. Thus the expression 1/0 doesnt make sense.) Los nà ºmeros imaginarios pueden describirse como el producto de un nà ºmero real por la unidad imaginaria i, en donde i denota la raà z cuadrada de -1. (Imaginary numbers can be described as the product of a real number by the imaginary unit i, whereà i denotes the square root of -1.)
Wednesday, May 6, 2020
A Game of Thrones Chapter Sixty-eight Free Essays
Daenerys Wings shadowed her fever dreams. ââ¬Å"You donââ¬â¢t want to wake the dragon, do you?â⬠She was walking down a long hall beneath high stone arches. She could not look behind her, must not look behind her. We will write a custom essay sample on A Game of Thrones Chapter Sixty-eight or any similar topic only for you Order Now There was a door ahead of her, tiny with distance, but even from afar, she saw that it was painted red. She walked faster, and her bare feet left bloody footprints on the stone. ââ¬Å"You donââ¬â¢t want to wake the dragon, do you?â⬠She saw sunlight on the Dothraki sea, the living plain, rich with the smells of earth and death. Wind stirred the grasses, and they rippled like water. Drogo held her in strong arms, and his hand stroked her sex and opened her and woke that sweet wetness that was his alone, and the stars smiled down on them, stars in a daylight sky. ââ¬Å"Home,â⬠she whispered as he entered her and filled her with his seed, but suddenly the stars were gone, and across the blue sky swept the great wings, and the world took flame. â⬠. . . donââ¬â¢t want to wake the dragon, do you?â⬠Ser Jorahââ¬â¢s face was drawn and sorrowful. ââ¬Å"Rhaegar was the last dragon,â⬠he told her. He warmed translucent hands over a glowing brazier where stone eggs smouldered red as coals. One moment he was there and the next he was fading, his flesh colorless, less substantial than the wind. ââ¬Å"The last dragon,â⬠he whispered, thin as a wisp, and was gone. She felt the dark behind her, and the red door seemed farther away than ever. â⬠. . . donââ¬â¢t want to wake the dragon, do you?â⬠Viserys stood before her, screaming. ââ¬Å"The dragon does not beg, slut. You do not command the dragon. I am the dragon, and I will be crowned.â⬠The molten gold trickled down his face like wax, burning deep channels in his flesh. ââ¬Å"I am the dragon and I will be crowned!â⬠he shrieked, and his fingers snapped like snakes, biting at her nipples, pinching, twisting, even as his eyes burst and ran like jelly down seared and blackened cheeks. â⬠. . . donââ¬â¢t want to wake the dragon . . . ââ¬Å" The red door was so far ahead of her, and she could feel the icy breath behind, sweeping up on her. If it caught her she would die a death that was more than death, howling forever alone in the darkness. She began to run. â⬠. . . donââ¬â¢t want to wake the dragon . . . ââ¬Å" She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogoââ¬â¢s copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he opened his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin. â⬠. . . want to wake the dragon . . . ââ¬Å" Ghosts lined the hallway, dressed in the faded raiment of kings. In their hands were swords of pale fire. They had hair of silver and hair of gold and hair of platinum white, and their eyes were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. ââ¬Å"Faster,â⬠they cried, ââ¬Å"faster, faster.â⬠She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. ââ¬Å"Faster!â⬠the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew. â⬠. . . wake the dragon . . . ââ¬Å" The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door. â⬠. . . the dragon . . . ââ¬Å" And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. ââ¬Å"The last dragon,â⬠Ser Jorahââ¬â¢s voice whispered faintly. ââ¬Å"The last, the last.â⬠Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own. After that, for a long time, there was only the pain, the fire within her, and the whisperings of stars. She woke to the taste of ashes. ââ¬Å"No,â⬠she moaned, ââ¬Å"no, please.â⬠ââ¬Å"Khaleesi?â⬠Jhiqui hovered over her, a frightened doe. The tent was drenched in shadow, still and close. Flakes of ash drifted upward from a brazier, and Dany followed them with her eyes through the smoke hole above. Flying, she thought. I had wings, I was flying. But it was only a dream. ââ¬Å"Help me,â⬠she whispered, struggling to rise. ââ¬Å"Bring me . . . â⬠Her voice was raw as a wound, and she could not think what she wanted. Why did she hurt so much? It was as if her body had been torn to pieces and remade from the scraps. ââ¬Å"I want . . . ââ¬Å" ââ¬Å"Yes, Khaleesi.â⬠Quick as that Jhiqui was gone, bolting from the tent, shouting. Dany needed . . . something . . . someone . . . what? It was important, she knew. It was the only thing in the world that mattered. She rolled onto her side and got an elbow under her, fighting the blanket tangled about her legs. It was so hard to move. The world swam dizzily. I have to . . . They found her on the carpet, crawling toward her dragon eggs. Ser Jorah Mormont lifted her in his arms and carried her back to her sleeping silks, while she struggled feebly against him. Over his shoulder she saw her three handmaids, Jhogo with his little wisp of mustache, and the flat broad face of Mirri Maz Duur. ââ¬Å"I must,â⬠she tried to tell them, ââ¬Å"I have to . . . ââ¬Å" â⬠. . . sleep, Princess,â⬠Ser Jorah said. ââ¬Å"No,â⬠Dany said. ââ¬Å"Please. Please.â⬠ââ¬Å"Yes.â⬠He covered her with silk, though she was burning. ââ¬Å"Sleep and grow strong again, Khaleesi. Come back to us.â⬠And then Mirri Maz Duur was there, the maegi, tipping a cup against her lips. She tasted sour milk, and something else, something thick and bitter. Warm liquid ran down her chin. Somehow she swallowed. The tent grew dimmer, and sleep took her again. This time she did not dream. She floated, serene and at peace, on a black sea that knew no shore. After a timeââ¬âa night, a day, a year, she could not sayââ¬âshe woke again. The tent was dark, its silken walls flapping like wings when the wind gusted outside. This time Dany did not attempt to rise. ââ¬Å"Irri,â⬠she called, ââ¬Å"Jhiqui. Doreah.â⬠They were there at once. ââ¬Å"My throat is dry,â⬠she said, ââ¬Å"so dry,â⬠and they brought her water. It was warm and flat, yet Dany drank it eagerly, and sent Jhiqui for more. Irri dampened a soft cloth and stroked her brow. ââ¬Å"I have been sick,â⬠Dany said. The Dothraki girl nodded. ââ¬Å"How long?â⬠The cloth was soothing, but Irri seemed so sad, it frightened her. ââ¬Å"Long,â⬠she whispered. When Jhiqui returned with more water, Mirri Maz Duur came with her, eyes heavy from sleep. ââ¬Å"Drink,â⬠she said, lifting Danyââ¬â¢s head to the cup once more, but this time it was only wine. Sweet, sweet wine. Dany drank, and lay back, listening to the soft sound of her own br eathing. She could feel the heaviness in her limbs, as sleep crept in to fill her up once more. ââ¬Å"Bring me . . . â⬠she murmured, her voice slurred and drowsy. ââ¬Å"Bring . . . I want to hold . . . ââ¬Å" ââ¬Å"Yes?â⬠the maegi asked. ââ¬Å"What is it you wish, Khaleesi?â⬠ââ¬Å"Bring me . . . egg . . . dragonââ¬â¢s egg . . . please . . . â⬠Her lashes turned to lead, and she was too weary to hold them up. When she woke the third time, a shaft of golden sunlight was pouring through the smoke hole of the tent, and her arms were wrapped around a dragonââ¬â¢s egg. It was the pale one, its scales the color of butter cream, veined with whorls of gold and bronze, and Dany could feel the heat of it. Beneath her bedsilks, a fine sheen of perspiration covered her bare skin. Dragondew, she thought. Her fingers trailed lightly across the surface of the shell, tracing the wisps of gold, and deep in the stone she felt something twist and stretch in response. It did not frighten her. All her fear was gone, burned away. Dany touched her brow. Under the film of sweat, her skin was cool to the touch, her fever gone. She made herself sit. There was a moment of dizziness, and the deep ache between her thighs. Yet she felt strong. Her maids came running at the sound of her voice. ââ¬Å"Water,â⬠she told them, ââ¬Å"a flagon of water, cold as you can find it. And fruit, I think. Dates.â⬠ââ¬Å"As you say, Khaleesi.â⬠ââ¬Å"I want Ser Jorah,â⬠she said, standing. Jhiqui brought a sandsilk robe and draped it over her shoulders. ââ¬Å"And a warm bath, and Mirri Maz Duur, and . . . â⬠Memory came back to her all at once, and she faltered. ââ¬Å"Khal Drogo,â⬠she forced herself to say, watching their faces with dread. ââ¬Å"Is hemdash?â⬠ââ¬Å"The khal lives,â⬠Irri answered quietly . . . yet Dany saw a darkness in her eyes when she said the words, and no sooner had she spoken than she rushed away to fetch water. She turned to Doreah. ââ¬Å"Tell me.â⬠ââ¬Å"I . . . I shall bring Ser Jorah,â⬠the Lysene girl said, bowing her head and fleeing the tent. Jhiqui would have run as well, but Dany caught her by the wrist and held her captive. ââ¬Å"What is it? I must know. Drogo . . . and my child.â⬠Why had she not remembered the child until now? ââ¬Å"My son . . . Rhaego . . . where is he? I want him.â⬠Her handmaid lowered her eyes. ââ¬Å"The boy . . . he did not live, Khaleesi.â⬠Her voice was a frightened whisper. Dany released her wrist. My son is dead, she thought as Jhiqui left the tent. She had known somehow. She had known since she woke the first time to Jhiquiââ¬â¢s tears. No, she had known before she woke. Her dream came back to her, sudden and vivid, and she remembered the tall man with the copper skin and long silver-gold braid, bursting into flame. She should weep, she knew, yet her eyes were dry as ash. She had wept in her dream, and the tears had turned to steam on her cheeks. All the grief has been burned out of me, she told herself. She felt sad, and yet . . . she could feel Rhaego receding from her, as if he had never been. Ser Jorah and Mirri Maz Duur entered a few moments later, and found Dany standing over the other dragonââ¬â¢s eggs, the two still in their chest. It seemed to her that they felt as hot as the one she had slept with, which was passing strange. ââ¬Å"Ser Jorah, come here,â⬠she said. She took his hand and placed it on the black egg with the scarlet swirls. ââ¬Å"What do you feel?â⬠ââ¬Å"Shell, hard as rock.â⬠The knight was wary. ââ¬Å"Scales.â⬠ââ¬Å"Heat?â⬠ââ¬Å"No. Cold stone.â⬠He took his hand away. ââ¬Å"Princess, are you well? Should you be up, weak as you are?â⬠ââ¬Å"Weak? I am strong, Jorah.â⬠To please him, she reclined on a pile of cushions. ââ¬Å"Tell me how my child died.â⬠ââ¬Å"He never lived, my princess. The women say . . . â⬠He faltered, and Dany saw how the flesh hung loose on him, and the way he limped when he moved. ââ¬Å"Tell me. Tell me what the women say.â⬠He turned his face away. His eyes were haunted. ââ¬Å"They say the child was . . . ââ¬Å" She waited, but Ser Jorah could not say it. His face grew dark with shame. He looked half a corpse himself. ââ¬Å"Monstrous,â⬠Mirri Maz Duur finished for him. The knight was a powerful man, yet Dany understood in that moment that the maegi was stronger, and crueler, and infinitely more dangerous. ââ¬Å"Twisted. I drew him forth myself. He was scaled like a lizard, blind, with the stub of a tail and small leather wings like the wings of a bat. When I touched him, the flesh sloughed off the bone, and inside he was full of graveworms and the stink of corruption. He had been dead for years.â⬠Darkness, Dany thought. The terrible darkness sweeping up behind to devour her. If she looked back she was lost. ââ¬Å"My son was alive and strong when Ser Jorah carried me into this tent,â⬠she said. ââ¬Å"I could feel him kicking, fighting to be born.â⬠ââ¬Å"That may be as it may be,â⬠answered Mirri Maz Duur, ââ¬Å"yet the creature that came forth from your womb was as I said. Death was in that tent, Khaleesi.â⬠ââ¬Å"Only shadows,â⬠Ser Jorah husked, but Dany could hear the doubt in his voice. ââ¬Å"I saw, maegi. I saw you, alone, dancing with the shadows. ââ¬Å" ââ¬Å"The grave casts long shadows, Iron Lord,â⬠Mirri said. ââ¬Å"Long and dark, and in the end no light can hold them back.â⬠Ser Jorah had killed her son, Dany knew. He had done what he did for love and loyalty, yet he had carried her into a place no living man should go and fed her baby to the darkness. He knew it too; the grey face, the hollow eyes, the limp. ââ¬Å"The shadows have touched you too, Ser Jorah,â⬠she told him. The knight made no reply. Dany turned to the godswife. ââ¬Å"You warned me that only death could pay for life. I thought you meant the horse.â⬠ââ¬Å"No,â⬠Mirri Maz Duur said. ââ¬Å"That was a lie you told yourself. You knew the price.â⬠Had she? Had she? If I look back I am lost. ââ¬Å"The price was paid,â⬠Dany said. ââ¬Å"The horse, my child, Quaro and Qotho, Haggo and Cohollo. The price was paid and paid and paid.â⬠She rose from her cushions. ââ¬Å"Where is Khal Drogo? Show him to me, godswife, maegi, bloodmage, whatever you are. Show me Khal Drogo. Show me what I bought with my sonââ¬â¢s life.â⬠ââ¬Å"As you command, Khaleesi,â⬠the old woman said. ââ¬Å"Come, I will take you to him.â⬠Dany was weaker than she knew. Ser Jorah slipped an arm around her and helped her stand. ââ¬Å"Time enough for this later, my princess,â⬠he said quietly. ââ¬Å"I would see him now, Ser Jorah.â⬠After the dimness of the tent, the world outside was blinding bright. The sun burned like molten gold, and the land was seared and empty. Her handmaids waited with fruit and wine and water, and Jhogo moved close to help Ser Jorah support her. Aggo and Rakharo stood behind. The glare of sun on sand made it hard to see more, until Dany raised her hand to shade her eyes. She saw the ashes of a fire, a few score horses milling listlessly and searching for a bite of grass, a scattering of tents and bedrolls. A small crowd of children had gathered to watch her, and beyond she glimpsed women going about their work, and withered old men staring at the flat blue sky with tired eyes, swatting feebly at bloodflies. A count might show a hundred people, no more. Where the other forty thousand had made their camp, only the wind and dust lived now. ââ¬Å"Drogoââ¬â¢s khalasar is gone,â⬠she said. ââ¬Å"A khal who cannot ride is no khal,â⬠said Jhogo. ââ¬Å"The Dothraki follow only the strong,â⬠Ser Jorah said. ââ¬Å"I am sorry, my princess. There was no way to hold them. Ko Pono left first, naming himself Khal Pono, and many followed him. Jhaqo was not long to do the same. The rest slipped away night by night, in large bands and small. There are a dozen new khalasars on the Dothraki sea, where once there was only Drogoââ¬â¢s.â⬠ââ¬Å"The old remain,â⬠said Aggo. ââ¬Å"The frightened, the weak, and the sick. And we who swore. We remain.â⬠ââ¬Å"They took Khal Drogoââ¬â¢s herds, Khaleesi,â⬠Rakharo said. ââ¬Å"We were too few to stop them. It is the right of the strong to take from the weak. They took many slaves as well, the khalââ¬â¢s and yours, yet they left some few.â⬠ââ¬Å"Eroeh?â⬠asked Dany, remembering the frightened child she had saved outside the city of the Lamb Men. ââ¬Å"Mago seized her, who is Khal Jhaqoââ¬â¢s bloodrider now,â⬠said Jhogo. ââ¬Å"He mounted her high and low and gave her to his khal, and Jhaqo gave her to his other bloodriders. They were six. When they were done with her, they cut her throat.â⬠ââ¬Å"It was her fate, Khaleesi,â⬠said Aggo. If I look back I am lost. ââ¬Å"It was a cruel fate,â⬠Dany said, ââ¬Å"yet not so cruel as Magoââ¬â¢s will be. I promise you that, by the old gods and the new, by the lamb god and the horse god and every god that lives. I swear it by the Mother of Mountains and the Womb of the World. Before I am done with them, Mago and Ko Jhaqo will plead for the mercy they showed Eroeh.â⬠The Dothraki exchanged uncertain glances. ââ¬Å"Khaleesi, â⬠the handmaid Irri explained, as if to a child, ââ¬Å"Jhaqo is a khal now, with twenty thousand riders at his back.â⬠She lifted her head. ââ¬Å"And I am Daenerys Stormhorn, Daenerys of House Targaryen, of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel and old Valyria before them. I am the dragonââ¬â¢s daughter, and I swear to you, these men will die screaming. Now bring me to Khal Drogo.â⬠He was lying on the bare red earth, staring up at the sun. A dozen bloodflies had settled on his body, though he did not seem to feel them. Dany brushed them away and knelt beside him. His eyes were wide open but did not see, and she knew at once that he was blind. When she whispered his name, he did not seem to hear. The wound on his breast was as healed as it would ever be, the scar that covered it grey and red and hideous. ââ¬Å"Why is he out here alone, in the sun?â⬠she asked them. ââ¬Å"He seems to like the warmth, Princess,â⬠Ser Jorah said. ââ¬Å"His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips.â⬠Dany kissed her sun-and-stars gently on the brow, and stood to face Mirri Maz Duur. ââ¬Å"Your spells are costly, maegi.â⬠ââ¬Å"He lives,â⬠said Mirri Maz Duur. ââ¬Å"You asked for life. You paid for life.â⬠ââ¬Å"This is not life, for one who was as Drogo was. His life was laughter, and meat roasting over a firepit, and a horse between his legs. His life was an arakh in his hand and his bells ringing in his hair as he rode to meet an enemy. His life was his bloodriders, and me, and the son I was to give him.â⬠Mirri Maz Duur made no reply. ââ¬Å"When will he be as he was?â⬠Dany demanded. ââ¬Å"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,â⬠said Mirri Maz Duur. ââ¬Å"When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.â⬠Dany gestured at Ser Jorah and the others. ââ¬Å"Leave us. I would speak with this maegi alone.â⬠Mormont and the Dothraki withdrew. ââ¬Å"You knew,â⬠Dany said when they were gone. She ached, inside and out, but her fury gave her strength. ââ¬Å"You knew what I was buying, and you knew the price, and yet you let me pay it.â⬠ââ¬Å"It was wrong of them to burn my temple,â⬠the heavy, flat-nosed woman said placidly. ââ¬Å"That angered the Great Shepherd.â⬠ââ¬Å"This was no godââ¬â¢s work,â⬠Dany said coldly. If I look back I am lost. ââ¬Å"You cheated me. You murdered my child within me.â⬠ââ¬Å"The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust.â⬠ââ¬Å"I spoke for you,â⬠she said, anguished. ââ¬Å"I saved you.â⬠ââ¬Å"Saved me?â⬠The Lhazareen woman spat. ââ¬Å"Three riders had taken me, not as a man takes a woman but from behind, as a dog takes a bitch. The fourth was in me when you rode past. How then did you save me? I saw my godââ¬â¢s house burn, where I had healed good men beyond counting. My home they burned as well, and in the street I saw piles of heads. I saw the head of a baker who made my bread. I saw the head of a boy I had saved from deadeye fever, only three moons past. I heard children crying as the riders drove them off with their whips. Tell me again what you saved.â⬠ââ¬Å"Your life.â⬠Mirri Maz Duur laughed cruelly. ââ¬Å"Look to your khal and see what life is worth, when all the rest is gone.â⬠Dany called out for the men of her khas and bid them take Mirri Maz Duur and bind her hand and foot, but the maegi smiled at her as they carried her off, as if they shared a secret. A word, and Dany could have her head off . . . yet then what would she have? A head? If life was worthless, what was death? They led Khal Drogo back to her tent, and Dany commanded them to fill a tub, and this time there was no blood in the water. She bathed him herself, washing the dirt and the dust from his arms and chest, cleaning his face with a soft cloth, soaping his long black hair and combing the knots and tangles from it till it shone again as she remembered. It was well past dark before she was done, and Dany was exhausted. She stopped for drink and food, but it was all she could do to nibble at a fig and keep down a mouthful of water. Sleep would have been a release, but she had slept enough . . . too long, in truth. She owed this night to Drogo, for all the nights that had been, and yet might be. The memory of their first ride was with her when she led him out into the darkness, for the Dothraki believed that all things of importance in a manââ¬â¢s life must be done beneath the open sky. She told herself that there were powers stronger than hatred, and spells older and truer than any the maegi had learned in Asshai. The night was black and moonless, but overhead a million stars burned bright. She took that for an omen. No soft blanket of grass welcomed them here, only the hard dusty ground, bare and strewn with stones. No trees stirred in the wind, and there was no stream to soothe her fears with the gentle music of water. Dany told herself that the stars would be enough. ââ¬Å"Remember, Drogo,â⬠she whispered. ââ¬Å"Remember our first ride together, the day we wed. Remember the night we made Rhaego, with the khalasar all around us and your eyes on my face. Remember how cool and clean the water was in the Womb of the World. Remember, my sun-and-stars. Remember, and come back to me.â⬠The birth had left her too raw and torn to take him inside of her, as she would have wanted, but Doreah had taught her other ways. Dany used her hands, her mouth, her breasts. She raked him with her nails and covered him with kisses and whispered and prayed and told him stories, and by the end she had bathed him with her tears. Yet Drogo did not feel, or speak, or rise. And when the bleak dawn broke over an empty horizon, Dany knew that he was truly lost to her. ââ¬Å"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,â⬠she said sadly. ââ¬Å"When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child. Then you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not before.â⬠Never, the darkness cried, never never never. Inside the tent Dany found a cushion, soft silk stuffed with feathers. She clutched it to her breasts as she walked back out to Drogo, to her sun-and-stars. If I look back I am lost. It hurt even to walk, and she wanted to sleep, to sleep and not to dream. She knelt, kissed Drogo on the lips, and pressed the cushion down across his face. How to cite A Game of Thrones Chapter Sixty-eight, Essay examples
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Sienkiewicz vs Greif free essay sample
From 1966 until 1984 she was an office worker at the defendants factory premises. The defendant manufactured steel drums and during the course of this process, asbestos dust was released into the factory atmosphere. Although Mrs Costello did not work on the factory floor, her duties took her all over the premises. In common with other inhabitants of the local area, however, she would also have been exposed to a low level of asbestos in the general atmosphere. Causation The general rule at common law is that a person suffering injury must show on the balance of probabilities that the defendants tort (most commonly negligence) caused the injury or condition. But for the defendants wrongdoing, the claimant would not have suffered the damage (this is sometimes called the but for test). There is an important exception to this rule. In the case of a divisible disease such as pneumoconiosis, the amount of dustà inhaled operates cumulatively to cause the disease and determine its severity. If exposure to the dust is partly due to the defendants negligence and partly not, the defendant will be liable to the extent that his breach of duty has materially contributed to the disease. If there is more than one defendant, liability can be apportioned. This approach, however, causes difficulties in mesothelioma claims because, unlike pneumoconiosis or asbestosis, mesothelioma is an indivisible disease. It is still uncertain whether its contraction or its severity can beà related to the amount of asbestos fibres ingested, or even which fibres triggered the disease. In Fairchild v Glenhaven [2003], the House of Lords (as it then was) recognised that, in a mesothelioma case where the claimant had been exposed to asbestos at different times while working for different employers, it would be impossible to satisfy the conventional but for test and prove which exposure was the cause of the disease. Consequently, the Law Lords created another exception to the normal causation rule. In mesothelioma cases, it would be enough for the claimant to show that a negligent exposure had materially increased the risk of his developing the disease. In Barker v Corus [2006], the House of Lords went on to decide that, in cases where there had been successive negligent exposures, liability should be apportioned between defendants. Each employer would be liable for that proportion of the damage which represented his contribution to the risk that the employee would contract mesothelioma. Parliament, however, swiftly intervened to pass section 3 of the Compensation Act, which allows the claimant to obtain full compensation from any one of them. The section applies where (1) a person has negligently or in breach of statutory duty exposed the victim to asbestos and (2) the victim has contracted mesothelioma as a result of exposure to asbestos, but (3) it is not possible to determine with certainty whether it was this or another exposure which caused the disease and (4) the person in question is liable in tort whether by reason of having materially increased a risk or for any other reason. à The defendant in this case said that any negligent exposure to asbestos fibres while Mrs Costello was at work would have been minimal and far less than the environmental exposure, which was not negligent. It argued that the Fairchild exception did not apply because this was a single exposureââ¬â in other words, the defendant was the sole known source of occupational exposure to asbestos dust. In any event, the exposure was not material. According to the defendant, the appropriate causation test to apply was a doubles the risk test. Only if the occupational exposure could be shown to have at least doubled the risk of Mrs Costello contracting mesothelioma could the defendant be held liable. The judge at first instance agreed and concluded that Mrs Costellos exposure to asbestos at work increased the risk by only 18%. The claimant appealed, arguing that the judge had failed to apply the law correctly. The Court of Appeal judgment The Court of Appeal found that the proper test was whether the occupational exposure had materially increased the risk of contacting the disease. In its view, Fairchild effectively created a new tort limited to cases of mesothelioma the tort of negligently materially increasing the risk of injury. Section 3 of the Compensation Act made it law that, provided all four conditions were satisfied, causation could be proved by demonstrating that the defendant wrongfully materially increased the risk of the victim contracting mesothelioma. It did not matter whether the other exposure was negligent or non-negligent. The claimant could prove causation by any available method, including showing a material (i. e. more than minimal) increase in risk. The defendant appealed. The Supreme Court judgment The Supreme Court unanimously dismissed the appeal. The Fairchild exception was developed for mesothelioma cases because of ignorance about the biological cause of the disease. Under it, a defendant is liable if it materially increases the risk of the claimant contracting mesothelioma. The same principle applies whether it is a case of single exposure or multiple exposure. The Court of Appeal, however, had misread the Compensation Act as creating a statutory rule of causation. Section 3 merely provides that, if a defendant negligently exposed the claimant to asbestos and the claimant contracts mesothelioma, the defendant would be liable in tort whether by reason of having materially increased a risk or for any other reason. Whether and in what circumstances liability attached to the defendant was still a matter for the common law. The Supreme Court, however, considered that the doubles the risk test put forward by the defendant was unsuitable as a test for causation in mesothelioma cases. The idea is borrowed from epidemiology, which is the study of the occurrence and distribution of events such as disease over human populations. If statistical evidence indicates that the wrongdoers act has more than doubled the risk that the victim would suffer the injury, the argument goes that it is more likely than not that the wrongdoer caused the injury. The Supreme Court concluded that, as long as medical science is unable to demonstrate the exact origin of mesothelioma, data relating incidence to exposure was not a satisfactory basis for making findings of liability. What constitutes a material increase in risk? Something more than minimal. But Lord Phillips said: I doubt whether it is ever possible to define in quantitative terms what for the purposes of the application of any principle of law is de minimis. This must be a question for the judge on the facts of the particular case. à He continued: In the case of mesothelioma, a stage must be reached at which, even allowing for the possibility that exposure to asbestos can have a cumulative effect, a particular exposure is too insignificant to be taken into account, having regard to the overall exposure that has taken place. This case involved low levels of exposure. But currently there is no known lower threshold of exposure that determines whether or not a person contracts the disease. In any event, the Supreme Court was satisfied that the exposure in this case materially increased Mrs Costellos risk of developing mesothelioma. Commentary The decision couldà pave the way for claims by mesothelioma victims who have been exposed to levels of asbestos that, until now, mightà have been considered too low to be actionable. The Supreme Court judges resisted any attempt to limit the applicability of the Fairchild exception or the Compensation Act to multiple exposure mesothelioma cases. As Lord Phillips commented: The 2006 Act, coupled with Fairchild, has draconian consequences for an employer who has been responsible for only a small proportion of the overall exposure of a claimant to asbestos dust, or his insurers, but it would be wrong to have regard to that fact when considering the issues raised by these appeals. Parliament has willed it so. Comments made by some members of the Supreme Court, however, questioned the wisdom of creating special causation rules, even for such a disease as mesothelioma. Lord Brown doubted whether special treatment could be justified. Although [â⬠¦] mesothelioma claims must now be considered from the defendants standpoint a lost cause, there is in my mind a lesson to be learned from losing it: the law tempers with but for test of causation at its peril. Lord Rodger looked forward to a day when medical science can identify which fibre or fibres caused the disease, at which point the problem that gave rise to the Fairchild exception will have ceased to exist.
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