Third Journal Entry Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words

Third Journal Entry - Essay Example Based on these responsibility-related considerations, the professor’s story relates to the larger story of mankind as responsibilities are laid forth for accomplishment, faces challenges in both professional and personal settings, and deserves compassion based on likely occurrence of burnout in the management of work-life balance. The audience addressed comprises of English Language learners with the purpose of introducing the personality of the professor as influenced by career choice, physical appearance, and mastery of a subject. Based on the professor’s profile above, the choice of including the age group, the human side, likely side effects of the career choice was merited by the likely assumptions students make about their professors in general. By introducing the professor’s personality and expectations within his career, the purpose of composing this profile was to give new language students an idea of what is expected of them when addressing, judging, or even responding to the professor’s questions, assignments, and other academic tasks. By providing an easy environment in everything humans do, everyone can handle their challenges appropriately while at the same time projecting the strengths towards a meaningful purpose that influences positive growth. Reflecting on observations about looks and body language, the included details from the interview questions include the professor’s exposure to burnout as well as the personal responsibility of managing work-life balance.

Age of Iron by J.M. Coetzee Essay Example for Free

Age of Iron by J.M. Coetzee Essay The extract from the prose Age of Iron written by J.M. Coetzee is about the depiction of different generations conflicting with one another. This extract is set up as an old wise woman a one-way conversation during the 1990s. This extract illustrates the young boy being forced in listening to the old wise womans opinion about the cons of the apartheid, more specifically being the war. Throughout the prose, the young boy refuses to listen to the voice of authority and shows the old wise woman that with stubbornness and self-determination, young children do not accept what they are told from authority. With the portrayal of the two generations conflicting, the extract suggests that the immense amount of influence of authority can play a major role on younger generations leading them to choose the wrong path. This prose is shown as a one-way conversation and is during the time period of the 1990s which is also known as the South African Apartheid. With the Apartheid regime, the tone of the extract is in a depressed mood because of their struggle to freedom. The old wise womans opinions are demonstrated through her stream of consciousness and moves from quick dialogue with the young boy to descriptions showing the vivid imagery of the war. The depressed plot of this extract shows the social activism of the younger generation and the minorities in South Africa fighting for their own rights. The old womans advice is however being ignored from the young boy who refuses; due to his stubbornness and goes onto the wrong path putting himself into great danger. The setting of this prose most likely takes place in the old womans house because of the depiction that the old woman do[esnt] have bandages in the house. This shows that the young boy illustrates the dramatic beginning by making splashing noises indicating that it was rainy day outside and he needed to go inside somewhere dry. Since the young boy went inside the old womans house without knocking, this shows that there is a family connection between the old woman and the boy however not a strong connection because of the one-way dialogue throughout the prose. However, they do have family connection where the boy visits often because she notices the bandage [is] off and with surprise [she] noticed that the stitches were still in. This line depicts that she cares for the boy and that there is a family connection between the two characters because of the connection of the boy being able to go into her house and the fact that he has visited before with a bandage on. The prose then continues into short dialogue, demonstrating that the narrator is represented as a motherly figure because of the tone of caring in the dialogue such as when did you leave the hospital and you must keep that cut covered, otherwise it will get infected The protagonist in this prose is represented as a mother figure because of the consecutive questions she asks the boy about his cut and exaggerates that it will leave a memento on his forehead for the rest of his life. The protagonist is shown as a hen that loses its chicks because in the prose, the young boy that steps into the protagonists house isnt blood-related to the old woman however, this line depicts that the old woman will still treat him as her own son because of the theme nature vs. nurture. The old woman also recommends to the young boy to go [see] a doctor soon, or a clinic to have the stitches taken out. This quotation also initiates the spark of the young boy choosing the wrong path in life, leading him into great danger because he cleverly moves away from the topic by saying that he must rest [his] arm and his head is not sore. By saying this to the old woman, she immediately thinks that he is running away from someone and by being silent, she starts to show her caring and loving for the boy by telling him advice. Since she asked the young boy with care and love if he was running away from someone, and with no reply, the old woman got worried and starts to explain to the young boy again that he is too young for this kind of thing. The old woman starts to tell explain to the young boy that it is not a good thing to die and that even though he is fighting for his own rights during the war, he should be careful because [they are] throwing away [their] lives before [they] know what life can [really] be. It is also indicated in the prose, that she is an old person because she says so herself when she is explaining to the young boy. She also talks about Bheki, her son who died at a young age because he fought in the war however when she explained to the young boy that war isnt a good thing to participate; he didnt understand because he asked after she had explained about the cons of war. The vivid imagery is brought out into that particular paragraph because she illustrates the war as an age of chivalry where men [hack] other men to death. However her strong opinion against the war didnt work on the young boy because he wasnt influenced at all because his desires were very strong about war. In the prose, the young boy has rebelled against the voice of authority (old woman_ by not paying attention to her when she was talking as she explained through dialogue and imagery that war isnt something to be proud about. However, the young boys desire grew and he became more passionate about the war showing that all of the immense influencing she did was a waste of time. Consequently, she gets furious when he asks where is Bheki. This shows that the young boy wasnt paying attention to the old woman and shows that he is also immature. This specific quotation indicates that the young boy isnt mature because he didnt understand her hint when she said that I told Bheki so [Ill] tell you again. This being the turning point of the prose, the old woman changes her voice of tone from soft and sweet into more of a demanding voice by telling him to sit down. As he follows her orders, she starts to explain that Bheki is actually in a box in a hole with earth heaped on top of him. She says this with great pain and as she quickly brushes that off her shoulders, she then changes her way of explaining to the boy into a more childish way. She starts to use basic terms for the young boy to understand as her diction goes from complex to simple. Her voice changes immediately and the old woman start to explain to the boy as if he was a little child who was learning to ride a bike. As the conclusion starts to approach, her mood also becomes more furious because she knows that compassions is the most important thing and pushes that war is a struggle and pain. With her great influence upon the young boy, he threw off [the] talk and chooses the path of war as a sign of discipline. In the prose Age of Iron the influence of authority is shown throughout the prose. With the old woman trying to lure the young boy out from war is not successful as all the young boys listen to discipline and nothing else. However with him refusing the talk which had weighed down the generation of his grandparents and his generation of his parents; he decided to choose the wrong path leading him into a great deal of danger. Even though, the old wise woman knew what she was talking about and had heard about past experiences through memory and sense-perception, her influence upon the boy was very significant however with the two generations conflicting, the immense amount of influence of the old wise woman wasnt successful which lead the young boy in choosing the wrong path.

The Existence of Black Holes Essays -- Concept Essays

The Existence of Black Holes I have always had an interest in science, especially in the sciences regarding outer space. When I was younger I was always fascinated with rockets, and especially in stars. I have often regretted not pursuing this interest at its infancy. I do remember going to the Planetarium, and studying about a topic that I had seen talked about on television. The topic was black holes, and back then all that they knew was that they were black. The idea of a space in the universe that is completely void of light was difficult to imagine. Recently, I have learned more about this topic and a science call cosmology. I had never even heard of this field of science before I was introduced to a scientist by the name of Stephen Hawking. The introduction was very informal. In fact, I have never even seen him. My first introduction to Stephen's theories came when I read a popular book that Stephen wrote called A Brief History of Time, in this book he attempts to explain some of his most complicated theor ies. These include the topics of black holes, imaginary time, and the origin of the universe. Stephen is the front runner in his field. Many of his peers consider his to be the greatest mind since Einstein. (Stone, 27) One of Stephen's areas of specialty that interests me is the topic of small mass exploded in the grandest explosion in history. Scientists today say that ever since the Big Bang the universe has been expanding at the speed of light. Stephen's theory is that eventually the universe will reach an outer limit and will then implode on itself at the speed of light. (A Brief History of Time, 76) The ideas that Stephen has about the lifetime of our universe are very complicated. I will not even pretend to c... ...se and everything in it at one time consisted in a very small mass. This mass contained an incredible amount of energy. The theory is that the Stephen's work in this field regarding blackholes, and imaginary time is unsurpassed by anyone and is truly remarkable. Bibliography Hawking, Stephen. A Brief History of Time. New York: Bantam Books, 1988. Hawking, Stephen. A Reader's Guide to a Brief History of Time. New York: Bantam Books 1992. Hawking, Stephen. Black Holes and Baby Universes and Other Essays. New York: Bantam Books, 1994. Hawking Stephen. An Essay On Time. New York: Bantam Books, 1992. Penrose, Roger. A Thesis on Relativity. New York: Bantam Books, 1990. Stone, Gene. A Reader's Companion to A Brief History of Time. New York: Bantam Books, 1992. Thorne, Kip. A Thesis on Quantum Mechanics. London: Oxford Publishing, 1989.

Microwaves :: essays research papers

You might remember the heroic role that newly-invented radar played in the Second World War. People hailed it then as "Our Miracle Ally". But even in its earliest years, as it was helping win the war, radar proved to be more than an expert enemy locator. Radar technicians, doodling away in their idle moments, found that they could focus a radar beam on a marshmallow and toast it. They also popped popcorn with it. Such was the beginning of microwave cooking. The very same energy that warned the British of the German Luftwaffe invasion and that policemen employ to pinch speeding motorists, is what many of us now have in our kitchens. It's the same as what carries long distance phone calls and cablevision. Hitler's army had its own version of radar, using radio waves. But the trouble with radio waves is that their long wavelength requires a large, cumbersome antenna to focus them into a narrow radar beam. The British showed that microwaves, with their short wavelength, could be focussed ina narrow beam with an antenna many times smaller. This enabled them to make more effective use of radar since an antenna could be carried on aircraft, ships and mobile ground stations. This characteristic of microwaves, the efficiency with which they are concentrated in a narrow beam, is one reason why they can be used in cooking. You can produce a high-powered microwave beam in a small oven, but you can't do the same with radio waves, which are simply too long. Microwaves and their Use The idea of cooking with radiation may seem like a fairly new one, but in fact it reaches back thousands of years. Ever since mastering fire, man has cooked with infrared radiation, a close kin of the microwave. Infrared rays are what give you that warm glow when you put your hand near a room radiator or a hotplate or a campfire. Infrared rays, flowing from the sun and striking the atmosphere, make the Earth warm and habitable. In a conventional gas or electric oven, infrared waves pour off the hot elements or burners and are converted to heat when they strike air inside and the food. Microwaves and infrared rays are related in that both are forms of electromagnetic energy. Both consist of electric and magnetic fields that rise and fall like waves on an ocean. Silently, invisibly and at the speed of light, they travel through space and matter. There are many forms of electromagnetic energy (see diagram). Ordinary light from the sun is one, and the only one you can actually see. X-rays are another. Each kind, moving at a separate wavelength, has a unique effect on any matter it

Chapter 14 Snape’s Grudge

No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night. They knew that the castle was being searched again, and the whole House stayed awake in the common room, waiting to hear whether Black had been caught. Professor McGonagall came back at dawn, to tell them that he had again escaped. Throughout the day, everywhere they went they saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Sir Cadogan had been fired. His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady was back. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her job only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs. Harry couldn't help noticing that the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor remained unguarded and unblocked. It seemed that Fred and George had been right in thinking that they — and now Harry, Ron, and Hermione — were the only ones who knew about the hidden passageway within it. â€Å"D'you reckon we should tell someone?† Harry asked Ron. â€Å"We know he's not coming in through Honeyduke's,† said Ron dismissively. â€Å"We'd've heard if the shop had been broken into.† Harry was glad Ron took this view. If the one-eyed witch was boarded up too, he would never be able to go into Hogsmeade again. Ron had become an instant celebrity. For the first time in his life, people were paying more attention to him than to Harry, and it was clear that Ron was rather enjoying the experience. Though still severely shaken by the night's events, he was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail. â€Å"†¦ I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draft†¦I woke up and one side of the hangings on my bed had been pulled down†¦I rolled over†¦and I saw him standing over me†¦like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair†¦holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches†¦and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he scampered. â€Å"Why, though?† Ron added to Harry as the group of second year girls who had been listening to his chilling tale departed. â€Å"Why did he run?† Harry had been wondering the same thing. Why had Black, having got the wrong bed, not silenced Ron and proceeded to Harry? Black had proved twelve years ago that he didn't mind murdering innocent people, and this time he had been facing five unarmed boys, four of whom were asleep. â€Å"He must've known he'd have a job getting back out of the castle once you'd yelled and woken people up,† said Harry thoughtfully. â€Å"He'd've had to kill the whole house to get back through the portrait hole†¦then he would've met the teachers†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Neville was in total disgrace. Professor McGonagall was so furious with him she had banned him from all future Hogsmeade visits, given him a detention, and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the tower. Poor Neville was forced to wait. outside the common room every night for somebody to let him in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at him. None of these punishments, however, came close to matching the one his grandmother had in store for him. Two days after Black's break-in, she sent Neville the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast — a Howler. The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Neville choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. Harry and Ron, who were sitting opposite him, recognized the letter as a Howler at once — Ron had got one from his mother the year before. â€Å"Run for it, Neville,† Ron advised. Neville didn't need telling twice. He seized the envelope, and holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him. They heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall — Neville's grandmother's voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the whole family. Harry was too busy feeling sorry for Neville to notice immediately that he had a letter too. Hedwig got his attention by nipping him sharply on the wrist. â€Å"Ouch! Oh — thanks, Hedwig.† Harry tore open the envelope while Hedwig helped herself to some of Neville's cornflakes. The note inside said: Dear Harry and Ron, How about having tea with me this afternoon 'round six? I'll come collect you from the castle. WAIT FOR ME IN THE ENTRANCE HALL; YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN. Cheers, Hagrid â€Å"He probably wants to hear all about Black!† said Ron. So at six o'clock that afternoon, Harry and Ron left Gryffindor Tower, passed the security trolls at a run, and headed down to the entrance hall. Hagrid was already waiting for them. â€Å"All right, Hagrid!† said Ron. â€Å"S'pose you want to hear about Saturday night, do you?† â€Å"I've already heard all abou' it,† said Hagrid, opening the front doors and leading them outside. â€Å"Oh,† said Ron, looking slightly put out. The first thing they saw on entering Hagrid's cabin was Buckbeak, who was stretched out on top of Hagrid's patchwork quilt, his enormous wings folded tight to his body, enjoying a large plate of dead ferrets. Averting his eyes from this unpleasant sight, Harry saw a gigantic, hairy brown suit and a very horrible yellow-and-orange tie hanging from the top of Hagrid's wardrobe door. â€Å"What are they for, Hagrid?† said Harry. â€Å"Buckbeak's case against the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures,† said Hagrid. â€Å"This Friday. Him an' me'll be goin' down ter London together. I've booked two beds on the Knight Bus†¦.† Harry felt a nasty pang of guilt. He had completely forgotten that Buckbeak's trial was so near, and judging by the uneasy look on Ron's face, he had too. They had also forgotten their promise about helping him prepare Buckbeak's defense; the arrival of the Firebolt had driven it clean out of their minds. Hagrid poured them tea and offered them a plate of Bath buns but they knew better than to accept; they had had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking. â€Å"I got somethin' ter discuss with you two,† said Hagrid, sitting himself between them and looking uncharacteristically serious. â€Å"What?† said Harry. â€Å"Hermione,† said Hagrid. â€Å"What about her?† said Ron. â€Å"She's in a righ' state, that's what. She's bin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Chris'mas. Bin feelin' lonely. Firs' yeh weren' talking to her because o' the Firebolt, now yer not talkin' to her because her cat –â€Å" â€Å"?C ate Scabbers!† Ron interjected angrily. â€Å"Because her cat acted like all cats do,† Hagrid continued doggedly. â€Å"She's cried a fair few times, yeh know. Goin' through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more'n she can chew, if yeh ask me, all the work she's tryin' ter do. Still found time ter help me with Buckbeak's case, mind†¦She's found some really good stuff fer me†¦reckon he'll stand a good chance now†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Hagrid, we should've helped as well — sorry –† Harry began awkwardly. â€Å"I'm not blamin' yeh!† said Hagrid, waving Harry's apology aside. â€Å"Gawd knows yeh've had enough ter be getting' on with. I've seen yeh practicin' Quidditch ev'ry hour o' the day an' night — but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two'd value yer friend more'n broomsticks or rats. Tha's all.† Harry and Ron exchanged uncomfortable looks. â€Å"Really upset, she was, when Black nearly stabbed yeh, Ron. She's got her heart in the right place, Hermione has, an' you two not talkin' to her –â€Å" â€Å"If she'd just get rid of that cat, I'd speak to her again!† Ron said angrily. â€Å"But she's still sticking up for it! It's a maniac, and she won't hear a word against it!† â€Å"Ah, well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets,† said Hagrid wisely. Behind him, Buckbeak spat a few ferret bones onto Hagrid's pillow. They spent the rest of their visit discussing Gryffindor's improved chances for the Quidditch Cup. At nine o'clock, Hagrid walked them back up to the castle. A large group of people was bunched around the bulletin board when they returned to the common room. â€Å"Hogsmeade, next weekend!† said Ron, craning over the heads to read the new notice. â€Å"What d'you reckon?† he added quietly to Harry as they went to sit down. â€Å"Well, Filch hasn't done anything about the passage into Honeydukes†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry said, even more quietly. â€Å"Harry!† said a voice in his right ear. Harry started and looked around at Hermione, who was sitting at the table right behind them and clearing a space in the wall of books that had been hiding her. â€Å"Harry, if you go into Hogsmeade again†¦I'll tell Professor McGonagall about that map!† said Hermione. â€Å"Can you hear someone talking, Harry?† growled Ron, not looking at Hermione. â€Å"Ron, how can you let him go with you? After what Sirius Black nearly did to you! I mean it, I'll tell –â€Å" â€Å"So now you're trying to get Harry expelled!† said Ron furiously. â€Å"Haven't you done enough damage this year?† Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but with a soft hiss, Crookshanks leapt onto her lap. Hermione took one frightened look at the expression on Ron's face, gathered up Crookshanks, and hurried away toward the girls' dormitories. â€Å"So how about it?† Ron said to Harry as though there had been no interruption. â€Å"Come on, last time we went you didn't see anything. You haven't even been inside Zonko's yet!† Harry looked around to check that Hermione was well out of earshot. â€Å"Okay,† he said. â€Å"But I'm taking the Invisibility Cloak this time.† On Saturday morning, Harry packed his Invisibility Cloak in his bag, slipped the Marauder's Map into his pocket, and went down to breakfast with everyone else. Hermione kept shooting suspicious looks down the table at him, but he avoided her eye and was careful to let her see him walking back up the marble staircase in the entrance hall as everybody else proceeded to the front doors. â€Å"Bye!† Harry called to Ron. â€Å"See you when you get back!† Ron grinned and winked. Harry hurried up to the third floor, slipping the Marauder's Map out of his pocket as he went. Crouching behind the one-eyed witch, he smoothed it out. A tiny dot was moving in his direction. Harry squinted at it. The minuscule writing next to it read Neville Longbottom. Harry quickly pulled out his wand, muttered, â€Å"Dissendium!† and shoved his bag into the statue, but before he could climb in himself, Neville came around the corner. â€Å"Harry! I forgot you weren't going to Hogsmeade either!† â€Å"Hi, Neville,† said Harry, moving swiftly away from the statue and pushing the map back into his pocket. â€Å"What are you up to?† â€Å"Nothing,† shrugged Neville. â€Å"Want a game of Exploding Snap?† â€Å"Er — not now — I was going to go to the library and do that vampire essay for Lupin –â€Å" â€Å"I'll come with you!† said Neville brightly. â€Å"I haven't done it either!† â€Å"Er — hang on — yeah, I forgot, I finished it last night!† â€Å"Great, you can help me!† said Neville, his round face anxious. â€Å"I don't understand that thing about the garlic at all — do they have to eat it, or –â€Å" He broke off with a small gasp, looking over Harry's shoulder. It was Snape. Neville took a quick step behind Harry. â€Å"And what are you two doing here?† said Snape, coming to a halt and looking from one to the other. â€Å"An odd place to meet –â€Å" To Harry's immense disquiet, Snape's black eyes flicked to the doorways on either side of them, and then to the one-eyed witch. â€Å"We're not — meeting here,† said Harry. â€Å"We just — met here.† â€Å"Indeed?† said Snape. â€Å"You have a habit of turning up in unexpected places, Potter, and you are very rarely there for no good reason†¦I suggest the pair of you return to Gryffindor Tower, where you belong.† Harry and Neville set off without another word. As they turned the corner, Harry looked back. Snape was running one of his hands over the one-eyed witch's head, examining it closely. Harry managed to shake Neville off at the Fat Lady by telling him the password, then pretending he'd left his vampire essay in the library and doubling back. Once out of sight of the security trolls, he pulled out the map again and held it close to his nose. The third floor corridor seemed to be deserted. Harry scanned the map carefully and saw, with a leap of relief, that the tiny dot labeled Severus Snape was now back in its office. He sprinted back to the one-eyed witch, opened her hump, heaved himself inside, and slid down to meet his bag at the bottom of the stone chute. He wiped the Marauder's Map blank again, then set off at a run. Harry, completely hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, emerged into the sunlight outside Honeydukes and prodded Ron in the back. â€Å"It's me,† he muttered. â€Å"What kept you?† Ron hissed. â€Å"Snape was hanging around.† They set off up the High Street. â€Å"Where are you?† Ron kept muttering out of the corner of his mouth. â€Å"Are you still there? This feels weird†¦Ã¢â‚¬  They went to the post office; Ron pretended to be checking the price of an owl to Bill in Egypt so that Harry could have a good look around. The owls sat hooting softly down at him, at least three hundred of them; from Great Grays right down to tiny little Scops owls (â€Å"Local Deliveries Only†), which were so small they could have sat in the palm of Harry's hand. Then they visited Zonko's, which was so packed with students Harry had to exercise great care not to tread on anyone and cause a panic. There were jokes and tricks to fulfill even Fred's and George's wildest dreams; Harry gave Ron whispered orders and passed him some gold from under the cloak. They left Zonko's with their money bags considerably lighter than they had been on entering, but their pockets bulging with Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap, and a Nose-Biting Teacup apiece. The day was fine and breezy, and neither of them felt like staying indoors, so they walked past the Three Broomsticks and climbed a slope to visit the Shrieking Shack, the most haunted dwelling in Britain. It stood a little way above the rest of the village, and even in daylight was slightly creepy, with its boarded windows and dank overgrown garden. â€Å"Even the Hogwarts ghosts avoid it,† said Ron as they leaned on the fence, looking up at it. â€Å"I asked Nearly Headless Nick†¦he says he's heard a very rough crowd lives here. No one can get in. Fred and George tried, obviously, but all the entrances are sealed shut†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry, feeling hot from their climb, was just considering taking off the cloak for a few minutes when they heard voices nearby. Someone was climbing toward the house from the other side of the hill; moments later, Malfoy had appeared, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy was speaking. â€Å"†¦should have an owl from Father any time now. He had to go to the hearing to tell them about my arm†¦about how I couldn't use it for three months†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. â€Å"I really wish I could hear that great hairy moron trying to defend himself†¦'There's no ‘arm in ‘im, ‘onest –‘†¦That Hippogriff's as good as dead –â€Å" Malfoy suddenly caught sight of Ron. His pale face split in a malevolent grin. â€Å"What are you doing, Weasley?† Malfoy looked up at the crumbling house behind Ron. â€Å"Suppose you'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Weasley? Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room — is that true?† Harry seized the back of Ron's robes to stop him from leaping on Malfoy. â€Å"Leave him to me,† he hissed in Ron's ear. The opportunity was too perfect to miss. Harry crept silently around behind Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, bent down, and scooped a large handful of mud out of the path. â€Å"We were just discussing your friend Hagrid,† Malfoy said to Ron. â€Å"Just trying to imagine what he's saying to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. D'you think he'll cry when they cut off his Hippogriff's –â€Å" SPLAT! Malfoy's head jerked forward as the mud hit him; his silverblond hair was suddenly dripping in muck. â€Å"What the –?† Ron had to hold onto the fence to keep himself standing, he was laughing so hard. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle spun stupidly on the spot, staring wildly around, Malfoy trying to wipe his hair clean. â€Å"What was that? Who did that?† â€Å"Very haunted up here, isn't it?† said Ron, with the air of one commenting on the weather. Crabbe and Goyle were looking scared. Their bulging muscles were no use against ghosts. Malfoy was staring madly around at the deserted landscape. Harry sneaked along the path, where a particularly sloppy puddle yielded some foul-smelling, green sludge. SPLATTER! Crabbe and Goyle caught some this time. Goyle hopped furiously on the spot, trying to rub it out of his small, dull eyes. â€Å"It came from over there!† said Malfoy, wiping his face, and staring at a spot some six feet to the left of Harry. Crabbe blundered forward, his long arms outstretched like a zombie. Harry dodged around him, picked up a stick, and lobbed it at Crabbe's back. Harry doubled up with silent laughter as Crabbe did a kind of pirouette in midair, trying to see who had thrown it. As Ron was the only person Crabbe could see, it was Ron he started toward, but Harry stuck out his leg. Crabbe stumbled — and his huge, flat foot caught the hem of Harry's cloak. Harry felt a great tug, then the cloak slid off his face. For a split second, Malfoy stared at him. â€Å"AAARGH!† he yelled, pointing at Harry's head. Then he turned tail and ran, at breakneck speed, back down the hill, Crabbe and Goyle behind him. Harry tugged the cloak up again, but the damage was done. â€Å"Harry!† Ron said, stumbling forward and staring hopelessly at the point where Harry had disappeared, â€Å"you'd better run for it! If Malfoy tells anyone — you'd better get back to the castle, quick –â€Å" â€Å"See you later,† said Harry, and without another word, he tore back down the path toward Hogsmeade. Would Malfoy believe what he had seen? Would anyone believe Malfoy? Nobody knew about the Invisibility Cloak — nobody except Dumbledore. Harry's stomach turned over — Dumbledore would know exactly what had happened, if Malfoy said anything — Back into Honeydukes, back down the cellar steps, across the stone floor, through the trapdoor — Harry pulled off the cloak, tucked it under his arm, and ran, flat out, along the passage†¦Malfoy would get back first†¦ how long would it take him to find a teacher? Panting, a sharp pain in his side, Harry didn't slow down until he reached the stone slide. He would have to leave the cloak where it was, it was too much of a giveaway in case Malfoy had tipped off a teacher — he hid it in a shadowy corner, then started to climb, fast as he could, his sweaty hands slipping on the sides of the chute. He reached the inside of the witch's hump, tapped it with his wand, stuck his head through, and hoisted himself out; the hump closed, and just as Harry jumped out from behind the statue, he heard quick footsteps approaching. It was Snape. He approached Harry at a swift walk, his black robes swishing, then stopped in front of him. â€Å"So,† he said. There was a look of suppressed triumph about him. Harry tried to look innocent, all too aware of his sweaty face and his muddy hands, which he quickly hid in his pockets. â€Å"Come with me, Potter,† said Snape. Harry followed him downstairs, trying to wipe his hands clean on the inside of his robes without Snape noticing. They walked down the stairs to the dungeons and then into Snape's office. Harry had been in here only once before, and he had been in very serious trouble then too. Snape had acquired a few more slimy horrible things in jars since last time, all standing on shelves behind his desk, glinting in the firelight and adding to the threatening atmosphere. â€Å"Sit,† said Snape. Harry sat. Snape, however, remained, standing. â€Å"Mr. Malfoy has just been to see me with a strange story, Potter,† said Snape. Harry didn't say anything. â€Å"He tells me that he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into Weasley — apparently alone.† Still, Harry didn't speak. â€Å"Mr. Malfoy states that he was standing talking to Weasley, when a large amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?† Harry tried to look mildly surprised. â€Å"I don't know, Professor.† Snape's eyes were boring into Harry's. It was exactly like trying to stare down a Hippogriff. Harry tried hard not to blink. â€Å"Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Potter?† â€Å"No,† said Harry, now trying to sound innocently curious. â€Å"It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair.† There was a long silence. â€Å"Maybe he'd better go to Madam Pomfrey,† said Harry. â€Å"If he's seeing things like –â€Å" â€Å"What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?† said Snape softly. â€Å"Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade.† â€Å"I know that,† said Harry, striving to keep his face free of guilt or fear. â€Å"It sounds like Malfoy's having hallucin –â€Å" â€Å"Malfoy is not having hallucinations,† snarled Snape, and he bent down, a hand on each arm of Harry's chair, so that their faces were a foot apart. â€Å"If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you.† â€Å"I've been up in Gryffindor Tower,† said Harry. â€Å"Like you told –â€Å" â€Å"Can anyone confirm that?† Harry didn't say anything. Snape's thin mouth curled into a horrible smile. â€Å"So,† he said, straightening up again. â€Å"Everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for the consequences.† Harry stayed silent. Snape was trying to provoke him into telling the truth. He wasn't going to do it. Snape had no proof — yet. â€Å"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter,† Snape said suddenly, his eyes glinting. â€Å"He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers†¦The resemblance between you is uncanny.† â€Å"My dad didn't strut,† said Harry, before he could stop himself. â€Å"And neither do I.† â€Å"Your father didn't set much store by rules either,† Snape went on, pressing his advantage, his thin face full of malice. â€Å"Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen –â€Å" â€Å"SHUT UP!† Harry was suddenly on his feet. Rage such as he had not felt since his last night in Privet Drive was coursing through him. He didn't care that Snape's face had gone rigid, the black eyes flashing dangerously. â€Å"What did you say to me, Potter?† â€Å"I told you to shut up about my dad!† Harry yelled. â€Å"I know the truth, all right? He saved your life! Dumbledore told me! You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for my dad!† Snape's sallow skin had gone the color of sour milk. â€Å"And did the headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father saved my life?† he whispered. â€Å"Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter's delicate ears?† Harry bit his lip. He didn't know what had happened and didn't want to admit it — but Snape seemed to have guessed the truth. â€Å"I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter,† he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. â€Å"Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you — your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts.† Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared. â€Å"Turn out your pockets, Potter!† he spat suddenly. Harry didn't move. There was a pounding in his ears. â€Å"Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the headmaster! Pull them out, Potter!† Cold with dread, Harry slowly pulled out the bag of Zonko's tricks and the Marauder's Map. Snap picked up the Zonko's bag. â€Å"Ron gave them to me,† said Harry, praying he'd get a chance to tip Ron off before Snape saw him. â€Å"He brought them back from Hogsmeade last time –â€Å" â€Å"Indeed? And you've been carrying them around ever since? How very touching†¦and what is this?† Snape had picked up the map. Harry tried with all his might to keep his face impassive. â€Å"Spare bit of parchment,† he said with a shrug. Snape turned it over, his eyes on Harry. â€Å"Surely you don't need such a very old piece of parchment?† he said. â€Å"Why don't I just — throw this away?† His hand moved toward the fire. â€Å"No!† Harry said quickly. â€Å"So!† said Snape, his long nostrils quivering. â€Å"Is this another treasured gift from Mr. Weasley? Or is it — something else? A letter, perhaps, written in invisible ink? Or — instructions to get into Hogsmeade without passing the Dementors?† Harry blinked. Snape's eyes gleamed. â€Å"Let me see, let me see†¦Ã¢â‚¬  he muttered, taking out his wand and smoothing the map out on his desk. â€Å"Reveal your secret!† he said, touching the wand to the parchment. Nothing happened. Harry clenched his hands to stop them from shaking. â€Å"Show yourself!† Snape said, tapping the map sharply. It stayed blank. Harry was taking deep, calming breaths. â€Å"Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!† Snape said, hitting the map with his wand. As though an invisible hand were writing upon it, words appeared on the smooth surface of the map. â€Å"Mooney presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business.† Snape froze. Harry stared, dumbstruck, at the message. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first. â€Å"Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Mooney and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.† It would have been very funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. And there was more †¦ â€Å"Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.† Harry closed his eyes in horror. When he'd opened them, the map had had its last word. â€Å"Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.† Harry waited for the blow to fall. â€Å"So †¦Ã¢â‚¬  said Snape softly. â€Å"We'll see about this †¦Ã¢â‚¬  He strode across to his fire, seized a fistful of glittering powder from a jar on the fireplace, and threw it into the flames. â€Å"Lupin!† Snape called into the fire. â€Å"I want a word!† Utterly bewildered, Harry stared at the fire. A large shape had appeared in it, revolving very fast. Seconds later, Professor Lupin was clambering out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his shabby robes. â€Å"You called, Severus?† said Lupin mildly. â€Å"I certainly did,† said Snape, his face contorted with fury as he strode back to his desk. â€Å"I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this.† Snape pointed at the parchment, on which the words of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs were still shining. An odd, closed expression appeared on Lupin's face. â€Å"Well?† said Snape. Lupin continued to stare at the map. Harry had the impression that Lupin was doing some very quick thinking. â€Å"Well?† said Snape again. â€Å"This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?† Lupin looked up and, by the merest half-glance in Harry's direction, warned him not to interrupt. â€Å"Full of Dark Magic?† he repeated mildly. â€Å"Do you really think so, Severus? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who reads it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke shop –â€Å" â€Å"Indeed?† said Snape. His jaw had gone rigid with anger. â€Å"You think a joke shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it directly from the manufacturers?† Harry didn't understand what Snape was talking about. Nor, apparently, did Lupin. â€Å"You mean, by Mr. Wormtail or one of these people?† he said. â€Å"Harry, do you know any of these men?† â€Å"No,† said Harry quickly. â€Å"You see, Severus?† said Lupin, turning back to Snape. â€Å"It looks like a Zonko product to me –â€Å" Right on cue, Ron came bursting into the office. He was completely out of breath, and stopped just short of Snape's desk, clutching the stitch in his chest and trying to speak. â€Å"I — gave — Harry — that — stuff,† he choked. â€Å"Bought — it†¦in Zonko's†¦ ages — ago†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Well!† said Lupin, clapping his hands together and looking around cheerfully. â€Å"That seems to clear that up! Severus, I'll take this back, shall I?† He folded the map and tucked it inside his robes. â€Å"Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay — excuse us, Severus –â€Å" Harry didn't dare look at Snape as they left his office. He. Ron, and Lupin walked all the way back into the entrance hall before speaking. Then Harry turned to Lupin. â€Å"Professor, I –â€Å" â€Å"I don't want to hear explanations,† said Lupin shortly. He glanced around the empty entrance hall and lowered his voice. â€Å"I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr. Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it's a map,† he said as Harry and Ron looked amazed. â€Å"I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happened the last time a student left information about the castle lying around. And I can't let you have it back, Harry.† Harry had expected that, and was too keen for explanations to protest. â€Å"Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?† â€Å"Because†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Lupin hesitated, â€Å"because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of school. They'd think it extremely entertaining.† â€Å"Do you know them?† said Harry, impressed. â€Å"We've met,† he said shortly. He was looking at Harry more seriously than ever before. â€Å"Don't expect me to cover up for you again, Harry. I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the Dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to repay them — gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks.† He walked away, leaving Harry feeling worse by far than he had at any point in Snape's office. Slowly, he and Ron mounted the marble staircase. As Harry passed the one-eyed witch, he remembered the Invisibility Cloak — it was still down there, but he didn't dare go and get it. â€Å"It's my fault,† said Ron abruptly. â€Å"I persuaded you to go. Lupin's right, it was stupid, we shouldn't've done it –â€Å" He broke off; they reached the corridor where the security trolls were pacing, and Hermione was walking toward them. One look at her face convinced Harry that she had heard what had happened. His heart plummeted — had she told Professor McGonagall? â€Å"Come to have a good gloat?† said Ron savagely as she stopped in front of them. â€Å"Or have you just been to tell on us?† â€Å"No,† said Hermione. She was holding a letter in her hands and her lip was trembling. â€Å"I just thought you ought to know†¦Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed.†

Waking Up From A Midsummer Nights Dream Essays - Free Essays

Waking Up From A Midsummer Night's Dream Essays - Free Essays Waking Up From A Midsummer Night's Dream As with every play we read this quarter, we started A Midsummer Night s Dream with only a text. Reading the script is the foundation of Shakespeare, and the least evolved of the ways that one can experience it. There is no one to interpret the words, no body movement o!r voice inflection to indicate meaning or intention. All meaning that a reader understands comes from the words alone. The simplicity of text provides a broad ground for imagination, in that every reader can come away from the text with a different conception of what went on. The words are merely the puzzle pieces individuals put together to bring coherence and logic to the play. Although we all read generally the same words, we can see that vastly different plays arise depending on who interprets them. By interpreting the word-clues that Shakespeare wrote into the script to direct the performance of the play, we were able to imagine gestures, expressions, and movements appropriate to the intention of the playwright. An example of this can be seen in the different Romeo and Juliets: Luhrman clearly had a more modern vision after reading the script than did Zeffirelli did only 18 years before. The live performance at the CalPoly theatre also carried !with it a very different feel less intense, more child-like and sweet with nearly the same words. Reading also affects our experience in that without the text, we would most likely not be able to enjoy Shakespeare at all; having the text makes Shakespeare widely accessible (available for free on the web) to all that desire it. Once the script is obtained, anyone can perform Shakespeare even everyday, non-actor citizens put on Shakespeare whether it be in parks, at school, or in a forest. My experience reading Shakepearean plays has shown me that reading is necessary and fundamental part of grasping the fullness of the works. I had wanted to read A Midsummer Night's Dream for quite some time. Besides being a play by Shakespeare, I believe my desire to do so came from seeing bits and pieces of it done in Hollywood movies like Dead Poet's Society. I didn't realize how much small exposures like! those could cause me to prejudge the actual text; after I had read the play for myself I was surprised at how much the text differed from my expectations. Not knowing the whole of the plot, but rather only bits and pieces, I expected a play filled with fairy dust and pixy-women toe-dancing, laughing, with flowers everywhere, or something like Hylas and the nymphs. What I did not expect was a group of rag-tag laborers putting on a play, young females catfighting over their men, or Titania being enamored of an ass. (Act IV, Scene i, MND) Even with surprises, though, the text by itself held little detail and richness in my mind. I thought it a decent play, but certainly nothing like I had hoped, and I didn't feel involved in it or connected to it in any way. One of the things that did impressed me, though, was finding out for myself how accessible Shakespeare actually is. When it came time for me to learn my lines for Philostrate (MND), I copied them from a site on the internet which posted the text in its entirety. I realized the!n how lucky we are that plays like these survived through the ages, sometimes probably making it from one hand to the next in a form no better than the paperback I carried in my bag. Through my reading, the importance of the text was impressed upon me, and I feel that I have gained a new appreciation for the lasting and foundational qualities of pure script. Viewing Viewing a play adds a kind of second dimension to a textual reading. While our primary impressions of a Shakespearean play are established with the initial reading, those impressions are challenged when we come into contact with a play performed. At this point we have a first hand contrast between how we felt and how someone else felt about the same play. Once we have sampled another's interpretations we necessarily question ourselves on what we would have done differently, had we directed the play. Perhaps something we expected to see on stage was omitted; perhaps! something unusual was added. We might even sample the same play dozens of times, all performed by different companies; it is common, it is even expected, that none of the twelve interpretations will be much the same. Unlike

Resuscitation From Severe Hemorrhage Essays - Medical Emergencies

Resuscitation From Severe Hemorrhage Essays - Medical Emergencies Resuscitation from Severe Hemorrhage The resuscitation after severe hemorrhage is a very delicate process which involves many biological factors with a very small time window. To successfully revive a victim of severe exsanguination, one must work quickly within the "golden hour" time limit. In this time period, there are various trauma that must be avoided; cardiac arrest, hypotension, hemorrhagic shock, and hypothermia to name a few. This article encompasses the current technology for resuscitation as well as future possibilities for research. The basic idea behind the resuscitation process involves the restoration of normotension in the blood stream while avoiding cardiac arrest, and hemorrhagic shock. Even when normotension is restored and cardiac arrest is avoided, hemorrhagic shock, which can cause organ failure, is often a problem. There are 3 types of hemorrhagic shock: compensated hemorrhagic shock; uncompensated hemorrhagic shock, the shock which is reversible; and irreversible hemorrhagic shock. The most popular way of resuscitation is the use of lactated ringer's solution to make up for lost blood volume by making the cells swell and in turn restores normotension. This works fairly well but it is not the optimal treatment. PATHOPHYSIOLOGY Half of the deaths that occur annually are due to acute illness or injury, and are associated with circulatory failure or shock. Some of these deaths could be avoided by the proper monitoring. The present technology is the monitoring early in the temporal course of an acute illness to observe the cardiac index, oxygen delivery and oxygen consumption. In the future, a possibility for a very effective non-invasive monitoring device, would be one which can provide the following cardiac output readings: pulse oximetry for estimating arterial hemoglobin oxygen saturationas a reflection of pulmonary function; transcutaneous oxygen and CO2 tensions as reflections of tissue perfusion; and noninvasive blood pressure readings. Non- invasive systems are far more effective than invasive systems because it provides a constant display of the data and they can also be used anywhere; in the hospital or in the field. In the future, if systems like these are perfected, shock may be easily ! intercepted and avoided, thus resulting in a huge number of lives saved. FUTURE STUDIES ON HEMORRHAGIC RESUSCITATION Future studies on resuscitation should be centered around shock, prevention of cardiac arrest as well as increasing oxygen transport and increasing blood volume. The validity of blood pressure as a measure of organ viability and optimum possibility of resuscitation should be investigated as well. But mainly the resuscitation research should center around something which can do all of these quickly and efficiently so that resuscitation will save lives from the hospital to the battlefield.