Carol Ann Duffys poetry Essay Example for Free

Carol Ann Duffys poetry Essay Delilah by Carol Ann Duffy has an undeniably sexual element running throughout an element which is highlighted by its suggestive language and presentation of gender roles between the characters Samson and Delilah. Many of Duffys poems have a similar element running through them such as in Salome, Little Red Riding Cap and Pygmalions Bride therefore it can be said that her poetry is mainly concerned with the politics of sex. However, Carol Ann Duffy states in an interview in 2005 that Delilah is not about sex but is a love poem exploring the nature of Samsons wish to become gentle, loving and tender. This would therefore suggest that the main concern of the poem is more to do with love, power and gender. There are several references to sex throughout the poem, however the most direct reference comes in the fourth stanza where Samson fucks Delilah. This is in stark contrast to his request in the third stanza only three lines above of wanting to learn how to care, or be gentle or loving or tender. Despite wanting to become gentle, Samson fucks Delilah rather than makes love to her, implying that his wish was only a half-hearted one i.e. a wish he only makes but not something he would act upon. He fuck(s her) again further shows this is not the first time Delilah has been fucked suggesting a repetitive nature of this act. Furthermore, Delilah allows herself to be fucked through Delilahs submission, Duffy could be making a statement that women can not break free from this subordinate role in sex. Samsons language is also sexually suggestive, possibly implying that a man can not have his libido driven out of him regardless of the situation. For example, in the second stanza Samson is boasting about his achievements which demonstrate his strength and fearlessness, however he is distracted by a sexually suggestive note, telling Delilah to put your hand here -. This continues in the third stanza; he asks for a cure for his inability to be gentle and in the following line proceeds to fuck her as though he believes the cure is in fucking her. The situation Samson opening up to Delilah about something personal- would usually be assumed to be free from anything conjuring violence however Samson fucks her anyway suggesting that regardless of the time or place, sex is something which remains rampant in a mans mind. On the other hand, it could be said that rather than sex, the main concern of the poem is with power distribution in this relationship. Whilst many would argue that Delilah was dominated by Samson in the poem due to the sex, in the end Delilah cut Samsons hair which biblically represented the demise of his strength. Cutting his hair in the poem may be symbolic of her dominating Samson as she has successfully seduced him and at his most vulnerable (during slumber) she has taken away his strength. This is also in sync with the biblical story in which Delilah disarms Samson and gives him up to the Philistines, ultimately dominating him. Sex is only a way by which Samson is pacified after which he goes to sleep and becomes soft, thus vulnerable. Furthermore, Delilah cuts Samsons hair with deliberate, passionate hands suggesting she enjoyed disarming him and stealing his power away from him. This is a reversal of the typical gender roles in literature and Delilahs passionate hands may be showing that Delilah enjoyed this. Furthermore, the idea that Delilah had to pacify Samson through sex suggests an element of power on Delilahs side as sex was a method through which she satisfied Samson and put him to sleep, leaving him vulnerable. Duffy may be making a statement through this that women can use their sexuality as a weapon to weaken men and thus overpower them. This interpretation is concerned with both sexual politics and power distribution demonstrating that Duffys poetry is not only concerned with the politics of sex.

A Negative Place :: Essays Papers

A Negative Place My husband Andrew was an orphan. He had no family members and very few friends. I was convinced, that I was his only family and friend. So imagine my eagerness when he said "we were going to meet an old friend he grew up with named Shell". I would finally have a chance to talk to someone who knew Andrew, someone who could speak of his character when he was younger and the things that made him tick. I admit, there was a lot I didn't know about my husband. At the time, I believed I knew all that needed to know about Andrew was that I loved him and trusted him. Shell lived in Queens, a part of New York City that was unfamiliar to me, but I enjoyed it's quiet streets. We arrived at Shell's house around three o'clock in the afternoon. Shell lived in a high rise complex; in a one bedroom apartment. The place was very neat, spacious and sparsely furnished. We sat around the floor on pillows, listening to music and talking. Shell prepared some drinks for the three of us, serving them with fruits and ladyfinger sandwiches. I thought this was very elegant. We sat around on the floor, smiling and making small talk about popular music, not at all the kind of talk what I was expecting. I thought the conversation would be about Andrew and Shell, their years of growing up together. This was my first clue that things weren't quite right with these two men. Then Shell and Andrew excused themselves and went into the bedroom to talk. This made me wonder, what could they be saying that they couldn't be said in front of me? A few minutes later when they returned, Shell said he had to meet his girlfriend downstairs. This information pleased me a little, because I really wasn't very comfortable sitting alone with two men in an apartment; although,one was my husband. While Shell was out of the apartment, Andrew refilled my glass and put on some more music. He said, "I have to tell you something, Shell likes you". I told him that I thought Shell was alright, but surprised that he didn't talk much about the two of them growing up together.

Function of Storytelling Essay

The novel Atonement by Ian MCewan and the short story â€Å"The Things They Carried† by Tom O’Brien both employ storytelling as a form of redemption. This is achieved in each text through the narrator’s freedom to manipulate the content and truth of the narrative in order to amend past wrongs and to imagine a more comforting, alternate reality. In Atonement, the narrator , Briony uses her literal imagination to alter the story of her life in hope to seek redemption for past actions with great consequence, while the narrator in Tim O’Brien’s â€Å"The Things They Carried† tells and retells his version of the memory to help it become real. Both narratives show storytelling to be a possible healing process. P1-First step to redemption is to admit the reason for your deception. A novels allows narrator to confess the motive behind his/her sin. Briony initial stage towards redemption is by confessing the dangers of interpretation. quote- To herâ€Å"reading a sentence and understanding it were the same thing; as with the crooking of a finger, nothing between them. There was no gap during which symbols were unravelled†(37) -quote shows Briony’s belief in the ease of interpretation which leads her to jump to conclusions she can never change. The blame for the tragedy is not only due to Briony’s misinterpretation of events , but the misguided nature of interperation provided by books. â€Å"The Things They Carried† -The narrator describes the difficult conditions of war by describing the emotional and physical baggage they carry. Lieutenant Jimmy Cross carried the love letters from Martha. These horrible conditions forced Lieutenant cross to day dream about Martha which lead to Ted Lavender’s death. -quote:told they carry â€Å"pocket knives, heat tabs, wristwatches†¦and two or three canteens of water† which weigh â€Å" between 15 and 20 pounds†(241). -quote allows the reader to feel the overwhelming weight of being a soldier, which words can’t simply explain. The narrator demonstrates the reasoning for Lieutenant cross’s daydreaming as a way to escape from chaos of Vietnam war. P2-Using storytelling another step towards redemption is taken by character’s revealing repentance by punishing themselves for their wrong doing (reveal repentance/remorse) -briony becomes a nurse and turns away Cambridge. She writes about the hard work she does as a nurse. quote: â€Å"Whatever skivvying or humble nursing she did and however well or hard she did it, whatever illumination in tutorial she had relinquished ,or lifetime moment on a college lawn, she would never undo the damage. She was unforgivable† -Lieutenant Jimmy burns Martha’s letter and pictures, thus destroying his distracting fantasy in order to become a true soldier -quote: â€Å"Lavender was dead. You couldn’t burn the blame† -Something is missing in explanation. How can I tie in that acts of remorse both did not make amends. P3-Novel is attempt by narrators to erase the wrong he/she did. The outcome of redemption differs for each narrator. -Briony alters the ending of the ending of the story in hope to seek redemption but does not achieve it because quote: â€Å"The problem of these fifty-nine years has been this:how can a novelist achieve atonement when, with her absolute power of deciding outcomes, she is also God? There is no one , no entity of higher form that she can appeal to, or be reconciled with, or that can forgive her† -No matter how many times she rewrites the story she will never receive Robbie and Cecile’s forgiveness. She can†t achieve self forgiveness because no alternate ending that she imagines will replace the true ending. -The only way Briony will end her guilt is when her memory fails and she dies. (disease) -Narrator for â€Å"The Things They Carried† achieves redemption for Ted Lavender’s death because storytelling allows the memories of Ted Lavender to stay alive. -Storytelling enables the narrator’s memories to be shaped and rearranged in order to make sense of past events and make them real -The narrator achieves redemption for Ted Lavender’s death by storytelling because each time the story is told or retold the soldier’s in the Alpha Company are being given a new life each time by the reader. -quote:At first, we learn â€Å"he was shot and killed outside Than Khe† (O’Brien 241) and gradually learn â€Å"Ted Lavender was shot in the head on his way back from peeing† (O’Brien 246).

The Vampire Diaries: The Fury Chapter Fifteen

Elena watched Damon with mute dread. She knew that disturbing smile too well. But even as her heart sank, her mind threw a mocking question at her. What difference did it make? She and Stefan were going to die anyway. It only made sense for Damon to save himself. And it was wrong to expect him to go against his nature. She watched that beautiful, capricious smile with a feeling of sorrow for what Damon might have been. Katherine smiled back at him, enchanted. â€Å"We'll be so happy together. Once they're dead, I'll let you go. I didn't mean to hurt you, not really. I just got angry.† She put out a slender hand and stroked his cheek. â€Å"I'm sorry.† â€Å"Katherine,† he said. He was still smiling. â€Å"Yes.† She leaned closer. â€Å"Katherine†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Yes, Damon?† â€Å"Go to hell.† Elena flinched from what happened next before it happened, feeling the violent upsurge of Power, of malevolent, unbridled Power. She screamed at the change in Katherine. That lovely face was twisting, mutating into something that was neither human nor animal. A red light blazed in Katherine's eyes as she fell on Damon, her fangs sinking into his throat. Talons sprang from her fingertips, and she raked Damon's already-bleeding chest with it, tearing into his skin while the blood flowed. Elena kept screaming, realizing dimly that the pain in her arms was from fighting the ropes that held her. She heard Stefan shouting, too, but above everything she heard the deafening shriek of Katherine's mental voice. Now you'll be sorry! Now I'm going to make you sorry! I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you! The words themselves hurt, like daggers stabbing into Elena's mind. The sheer Power of it stupefied her, rocking her back against the iron pickets. But there was no way to get away from it. It seemed to echo from all around her, hammering in her skull. Kill you! Kill you! Kill you! Elena fainted. Meredith, crouched beside Aunt Judith in the utility room, shifted her weight, straining to interpret the sounds outside the door. The dogs had gotten into the cellar; she wasn't sure how, but from the bloody muzzles of some of them, she thought they had broken through the ground-level windows. Now they were outside the utility room, but Meredith couldn't tell what they were doing. It was too quiet out there. â€Å"Hush,† Robert whispered quickly. â€Å"It's all right, sweetheart. Everything's going to be all right.† Meredith met his frightened, determined eyes over Margaret's tow head. We almost had you pegged for the Other Power, she thought. But there was no time to regret it now. â€Å"Where's Elena? Elena said she'd watch over me,† Margaret said, her eyes large and solemn. â€Å"She said she'd take care of me.† Aunt Judith put a hand to her mouth. â€Å"She is taking care of you,† Meredith whispered. â€Å"She just sent me to do it, that's all. It's the truth,† she added fiercely, and saw Robert's look of reproach melt into perplexity. Outside, the silence had given way to scratching and gnawing sounds. The dogs were at work on the door. Robert cradled Margaret's head closer to his chest. Bonnie didn't know how long they had been working. Hours, certainly. Forever, it seemed like. The dogs had gotten in through the kitchen and the old wooden side doors. So far, though, only about a dozen had gotten past the fires lit like barricades in front of these openings. And the men with guns had taken care of most of those. But Mr. Smallwood and his friends were now holding empty rifles. And they were running out of things to burn. Vickie had gotten hysterical a little while ago, screaming and holding her head as if something was hurting her. They'd been looking for ways to restrain her when she finally passed out. Bonnie went up to Matt, who was looking out over the fire through the demolished side door. He wasn't looking for dogs, she knew, but for something else much farther away. Something you couldn't see from here. â€Å"You had to go, Matt,† she said. â€Å"There was nothing else you could do.† He didn't answer or turn around. â€Å"It's almost dawn,† she said. â€Å"Maybe when that comes, the dogs will leave.† But even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true. Matt didn't answer. She touched his shoulder. â€Å"Stefan's with her. Stefan's there.† At last, Matt gave some response. He nodded. â€Å"Stefan's there,† he said. Brown and snarling, another shape charged out of the dark. It was much later when Elena came gradually to consciousness. She knew because she could see, not just by the handful of candles Katherine had lit but also by the cold gray dimness that filtered down from the crypt's opening. Damon? she thought. It was only after she had done it that she realized the word had not been spoken. Somehow, Katherine's shrieking had closed a circuit in her mind, or maybe it had awakened something sleeping. And Matt's blood had undoubtedly helped, giving her the strength to finally find her mental voice. She turned her head the other way. Stefan? His face was haggard with pain, but aware. Too aware. Elena almost wished that he were as insensible as Damon to what was happening to them. Elena, he returned. Where is she? Elena said, her eyes moving slowly around the room. Stefan looked toward the opening of the crypt. She went up there a while ago. Maybe to check on how the dogs are doing. Elena had thought she'd reached the limit of fear and dread, but it wasn't true. She hadn't remembered the others then. Elena, I'm sorry. Stefan's face was filled with what no words could express. It's not your fault, Stefan. You didn't do this to her. She did it to herself. Or-it just happened to her, because of what she is. What we are. Running beneath Elena's thoughts was the memory of how she had attacked Stefan in the woods, and how she had felt when she was racing toward Mr. Smallwood, planning her revenge. It could have been me, she said. No! You could never become like that. Elena didn't answer. If she had the Power now, what would she do to Katherine? What wouldn't she do to her? But she knew it would only upset Stefan more to talk about it. I thought Damon was going to betray us, she said. I did, too, said Stefan queerly. He was looking at his brother with an odd expression. Do you still hate him? Stefan's gaze darkened. No, he said quietly. No, I don't hate him anymore. Elena nodded. It was important, somehow. Then she started, her nerves hyper-alert, as something shadowed the entrance to the crypt. Stefan tensed, too. She's coming. Elena- I love you, Stefan, Elena said hopelessly, as the misty white shape hurtled down. Katherine took form in front of them. Of course, thought Elena. How could I have been so stupid? Damon rode with us in Alaric's car over the river. He crossed running water then, and probably lots of other times. He couldn't have been the Other Power. It was strange how she could think even though she was so frightened. It was as if one part of her mind stood watching from a distance. â€Å"I'm going to kill you now,† Katherine said conversationally. â€Å"Then I'm going under the river to kill your friends. I don't think the dogs have done it yet. But I'll take care of it myself.† â€Å"Let Elena go,† said Stefan. His voice was quenched but compelling all the same. â€Å"I haven't decided how to do it,† said Katherine, ignoring him. â€Å"I might roast you. There's almost enough light for that now. And I've got these.† She reached down the front of her gown and brought her closed hand out. â€Å"One-two-three!† she said, dropping two silver rings and a gold one onto the ground. Their stones shone blue as Katherine's eyes, blue as the stone in the necklace at Katherine's throat. Elena's hands twisted frantically and she felt the smooth bareness of her ring finger. It was true. She wouldn't have believed how naked she felt without that circlet of metal. It was necessary to her life, to her survival. Without it- â€Å"Without these you'll die,† Katherine said, scuffing the rings carelessly with the toe of one foot. â€Å"But I don't know if that's slow enough.† She paced back almost to the far wall of the crypt, her silver dress shimmering in the dim light. It was then that the idea came to Elena. She could move her hands. Enough to feel one with the other, enough to know that they weren't numb anymore. The ropes were looser. But Katherine was strong. Unbelievably strong. And faster than Elena, too. Even if Elena got free she would have time for only one quick act. She rotated one wrist, feeling the ropes give. â€Å"There are other ways,† Katherine said. â€Å"I could cut you and watch you bleed. I like watching.† Gritting her teeth, Elena exerted pressure against the rope. Her hand was bent at an excruciating angle, but she continued to press. She felt the burn of the rope slipping aside. â€Å"Or rats,† Katherine was saying pensively. â€Å"Rats could be fun. I could tell them when to start and when to stop.† Working the other hand free was much easier. Elena tried to give no sign of what was going on behind her back. She would have liked to call to Stefan with her mind, but she didn't dare. Not if there was any chance Katherine might hear. but she didn't dare. Not if there was any chance Katherine might hear. There was a rectangle of gray light on the floor. Dawn light. It was coming in through the crypt's opening. Katherine had already been out in that light. But†¦ Katherine smiled suddenly, her blue eyes sparkling. â€Å"I know! I'll drink you almost up and make you watch while I kill her! I'll leave you just enough strength so you see her die before you do. Doesn't that sound like a good plan?† Blithely, she clapped her hands and pirouetted again, dancing away. Just one more step, thought Elena. She saw Katherine approach the rectangle of light. Just one more step†¦ Katherine took the step. â€Å"That's it, then!† She started to turn around. â€Å"What a good-† Now! Yanking her cramped arms out of the last loops of rope, Elena rushed her. It was like the rush of a hunting cat. One desperate sprint to reach the prey. One chance. One hope. She struck Katherine with her full weight. The impact knocked them both into the rectangle of light. She felt Katherine's head crack against the stone floor. And felt the searing pain, as if her own body had been plunged into poison. It was a feeling like the burning dryness of hunger, only stronger. A thousand times stronger. It was unbearable. â€Å"Elena!† Stefan screamed, with mind and voice. Stefan, she thought. Beneath her Power surged as Katherine's stunned eyes focused. Her mouth twisted with rage, fangs bursting forth. They were so long they cut into the lower lip. That distorted mouth opened in a howl. Elena's clumsy hand fumbled at Katherine's throat. Her fingers closed on the cool metal of Katherine's blue necklace. With all her strength, she wrenched and felt the chain give way. She tried to clasp it, but her fingers felt thick and uncoordinated and Katherine's clawing hand scrabbled at it wildly. It spun away into the shadows. â€Å"Elena!† Stefan called again in that dreadful voice. She felt as if her body were filled with light. As if she were transparent. Only, light was pain. Beneath her, Katherine's warped face was looking up directly into the winter sky. Instead of a howl, there was a shrieking that went up and up. Elena tried to lift herself off, but she didn't have the strength. Katherine's face was rifting, cracking open. Lines of fire opened in it. The screaming reached a crescendo. Katherine's hair was aflame, her skin was blackening. Elena felt fire from both above and below. She saw Stefan's arms, red where they had been exposed to the sun and bleeding where he had torn free of his ropes. She saw his face, saw the stricken horror and grief. Then her eyes blurred and she saw nothing. Meredith and Robert, striking at the blood-soaked muzzles that thrust through the hole in the door, paused in confusion. The teeth had stopped snapping and tearing. One muzzle jerked and slid out of the way. Edging sideways to look at the other, Meredith saw that the dog's eyes were glazed and milky. They didn't move. She looked at Robert, who stood panting. There was no more noise from the cellar. Everything was silent. But they didn't dare to hope. Vickie's demented shrieking stopped as if it had been cut with a knife. The dog, which had sunk its teeth into Matt's thigh, stiffened and gave a convulsive shudder; then, its jaws released him. Gasping for breath, Bonnie swung to look beyond the dying fire. There was just enough light to see bodies of other dogs lying where they had fallen outside. She and Matt leaned on each other, looking around, bewildered. It had finally stopped snowing. Slowly, Elena opened her eyes. Everything was very clear and calm. She was glad the shrieking was over. That had been bad; it had hurt. Now, nothing hurt. She felt as if her body were filled with light again, but this time there was no pain. It was as if she were floating, very high and easy, on wafts of air. She almost felt she didn't have a body at all. She smiled. Turning her head didn't hurt, although it increased the loose, floating feeling. She saw, in the oblong of pale light on the floor, the smoldering remains of a silvery dress. Katherine's lie of five hundred years ago had become the truth. That was that, then. Elena looked away. She didn't wish anyone harm now, and she didn't want to waste time on Katherine. There were so many more important things. â€Å"Stefan,† she said and sighed, and smiled. Oh, this was nice. This must be how a bird felt. â€Å"I didn't mean for things to turn out this way,† she said, softly rueful. His green eyes were wet. They filled again, but he returned her smile. â€Å"I know,† he said. â€Å"I know, Elena.† It seemed to her that it had been a long while since she'd really looked at him. Since she'd taken time to appreciate how beautiful he was, with his dark hair and his eyes as green as oak leaves. But she saw it now, and she saw his soul shining through those eyes. It was worth it, she thought. I didn't want to die; I don't want to now. But I'd do it all over again if I had to. â€Å"I love you,† she whispered. â€Å"I love you,† he said, squeezing their joined hands. The strange, languorous lightness cradled her gently. She could scarcely feel Stefan holding her. She would have thought she'd be terrified. But she wasn't, not as long as Stefan was there. â€Å"The people at the dance-they'll be all right now, won't they?† she said. â€Å"They'll be all right now,† Stefan whispered. â€Å"You saved them.† â€Å"I didn't get to say good-bye to Bonnie and Meredith. Or Aunt Judith. You have to tell them I love them.† â€Å"I'll tell them,† Stefan said. â€Å"You can tell them yourself,† panted another voice, hoarse and unused sounding. Damon had pulled himself across the floor behind Stefan. His face was ravaged, streaked with blood, but his dark eyes burned at her. â€Å"Use your will, Elena. Hold on. You have the strength-â€Å" She smiled at him, waveringly. She knew the truth. What was happening was only finishing what had been started two weeks ago. She'd had thirteen days to get things straight, to make amends with Matt and say good-bye to Margaret. To tell Stefan she loved him. But now the grace period was up. Still, there was no point in hurting Damon. She loved Damon, too. â€Å"I'll try,† she promised. â€Å"We'll take you home,† he said. â€Å"But not yet,† she told him gently. â€Å"Let's wait just a little while.† Something happened in the fathomless black eyes, and the burning spark went out. Then she saw that Damon knew, too. â€Å"I'm not afraid,† she said. â€Å"Well-only a little.† A drowsiness had started, and she felt very comfortable, but as if she were falling asleep. Things were drifting away from her. An ache rose in her chest. She was not much afraid, but she was sorry. There were so many things she would miss, so many things she wished she had done. â€Å"Oh,† she said softly. â€Å"How funny.† underground room. Only this was a doorway into a different light. â€Å"How beautiful,† she murmured. â€Å"Stefan? I'm so tired.† â€Å"You can rest now,† he whispered. â€Å"You won't let go of me?† â€Å"No.† â€Å"Then I won't be afraid.† Something was shining on Damon's face. She reached toward it, touched it, and lifted her fingers away in wonder. â€Å"Don't be sad,† she told him, feeling the cool wetness on her fingertips. But a pang of worry disturbed her. Who was there to understand Damon now? Who would be there to push him, to try to see what was really inside him? â€Å"You have to take care of each other,† she said, realizing it. A little strength came back to her, like a candle flaring in the wind. â€Å"Stefan, will you promise? Promise to take care of each other?† â€Å"I promise,† he said. â€Å"Oh, Elena†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Waves of sleepiness were overcoming her. â€Å"That's good,† she said. â€Å"That's good, Stefan.† The doorway was closer, so close she could touch it now. She wondered if her parents were somewhere behind it. â€Å"Time to go home,† she whispered. And then the darkness and the shadows faded and there was nothing but light. Stefan held her while her eyes closed. And then he just held her, the tears he'd been keeping back falling without restraint. It was a different pain than when he'd pulled her out of the river. There was no anger in this, and no hatred, but a love that seemed to go on and on forever. It hurt even more. He looked at the rectangle of sunlight, just a step or two away from him. Elena had gone into the light. She'd left him here alone. Not for long, he thought. His ring was on the floor. He didn't even glance at it as he rose, his eyes on the shaft of sunlight shining down. A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Stefan looked into his brother's face. Damon's eyes were dark as midnight, and he was holding Stefan's ring. As Stefan watched, unable to move, he forced the ring onto Stefan's finger and released him. yours, too. Take it. Take it and go.† He turned his face away. Stefan gazed at the golden circlet in his palm for a long time. Then his fingers closed over it and he looked back at Damon. His brother's eyes were shut, his breathing labored. He looked exhausted and in pain. And Stefan had made a promise to Elena. â€Å"Come on,† he said quietly, putting the ring in his pocket. â€Å"Let's get you some place where you can rest.† He put an arm around his brother to help him up. And then, for a moment, he just held on.

Negotiation Team Essay

Negotiation Team Essay Negotiation Team Essay Journal Entry 3: Units 3, 4, 5 Unit 3 Negotiation is a critical tool when dealing with conflict. BATNA which is Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement gives tips on how to negotiate to get the outcome that you want. When there is a conflict for people not to feel guilty about not handling it they tend to think they are powerless and that there is nothing they can contribute to the situation. By the individual doing this it also eliminates failure which most people are afraid of. When there is a conflict most people would rather do nothing in case of failure then try and help resolve a conflict. For example when there is a fight people will stand around and watch instead of intervene. In the summer I saw two kids fighting, they were both wrestling each other and throwing punches and people in their cars and walking on the street were doing nothing. People were getting gas across the street and they were just watching. People do this because they don’t know what they can do. I was sitting in my car at a red lig ht and was honking and the two of them stopped, had a few words and started walking in the opposite direction. My sister looked at me and made a comment of being proud that I did something. When an issue arises in public people stand around and spectate. Why is this? For entertainment? People don’t want to get involved? People are scared to get involved? Or is it because people do not know how to react to conflict. When two people have a conflict there has to be some sort of agreement to resolve the issue, and that is when negotiation steps in. There has to be a relationship between people who are negotiating, meaning understanding both sides and respect if there is a disagreement. If I disagree with a co-worker I can’t disrespect them by telling them that their view on the topic is stupid or doesn’t make sense. I have to listen to their point of view and communicate with them to reach an understanding. Communication is important with listening and talking to on e another for a resolution that both parties are happy with. By listening to the other side of the story it will help increase your chances to persuade them. It is also important when negotiating to show commitment to the other party. This helps increase your power over the other party. As the negotiator you can commit to what you will do for the other party, what you want to do (take it or leave it), and what kind of commitments you want to see from the other party. For example, there have been many fights in my house of who does what house work. If the bathroom, living room and kitchen need to get clean a negotiation with my sister and I has to be done. I would rather clean the kitchen rather than the bathroom so if I show a commitment to my sisters by saying I will do the kitchen and living room if you do the bathroom it shows her commitment from my end and therefore increases my power to get what I want. And in return I get commitment from my sister when she says yes to the ne gotiation. Negotiators are trained in many skills and tactic that are used in their line of work to help resolve conflict. The Hostage Negotiation Team (HNT) works with the police departments and is trained in many skills to help resolve conflict. The HNT trains with the Special Weapons and Tactics (SWAT) and learn skills to help certain conflicts which are hostage taking, barricaded suspects and suicide attempts (to be explain later). When negotiating there is many factors that need to be taken into consideration. Such as when the first line officer gets on scene it is important that they call a trained negotiator immediately. The best thing that can be used in these situations is time. The negotiating time is made up of three components. First the primary negotiator who is in contact with the suspect, second the secondary negotiator who will give help to the primary negotiator by giving advice and by making sure the primary negotiator can hear and understand everything

The History of Potato Chips

The History of Potato Chips Legend has it that the potato chip was born out of a tiff between a little-known cook and one of the wealthiest people in American history.   The incident was alleged to have taken place  on August 24, 1853.  George Crum, who was  half African and half native American, was working as a cook at a resort in  Saratoga Springs, New York at the time. During his shift, a disgruntled customer kept sending back an order of french fries, complaining that they were too thick. Frustrated, Crum prepared a new batch using potatoes that were sliced paper thin and fried to a crisp. Surprisingly, the customer, who happened to be railroad tycoon Cornelius Vanderbilt,  loved it. However, that version of events was contradicted by his sister Kate Speck  Wicks. In fact, no official accounts ever proved that Crum claimed to have invented the potato chip. But in Wicks obituary, it was stated flatly that she first invented and fried the famous Saratoga Chips, also known as potato chips.  Besides that, the first popular reference to potato chips can be found in the novel A Tale Of Two Cities, written by Charles Dickens. In it, he refers to them as â€Å"husky chips of potatoes.† In any case, potato chips did not gain widespread popularity until the 1920s. Around that time,  an  entrepreneur from California named  Laura Scudder  began selling chips in wax paper bags that were sealed with a warm iron in order to  reduce crumbling while keeping the chips fresh and crisp. Over time, the innovative packaging method allowed for the first time the mass production and distribution of potato chips, which began in 1926.  Today, chips are packaged in plastic bags and pumped with nitrogen gas to extend the products shelf life. The process also helps prevent the chips from getting crushed. During the 1920s, an American businessman from North Carolina named  Herman Lay began selling  potato chips out of the trunk of his car to grocers across the south. By 1938, Lay was so successful that his  Lays brand chips went into mass production and eventually became the  first successfully marketed national brand. Among the companys biggest contributions is the introduction of a crinkle-cut Ruffled chips product that tended to be  sturdier and thus less prone to breakage.   It wasnt until the 1950s though that stores started carrying potato chips in various flavors.  This was all thanks to Joe Spud Murphy, the owner of an Irish chip company named Tayto.  He developed a technology that allowed seasoning to be added during the cooking process. The first seasoned potato chip products came in two flavors:  Cheese Onion and Salt Vinegar. Pretty soon, several companies would express interest in securing the rights to Taytos technique.  Ã‚   In 1963, Lay’s Potato Chips left a memorable mark on the countrys cultural consciousness  when the company hired advertising company Young Rubicam to come up with the popular trademark slogan  Betcha can’t eat just one.†Ã‚  Soon sales went international with a marketing campaign that featured celebrity  actor Bert Lahr in a series of commercials in which he played various historical figures such as George Washington, Ceasar, and Christopher Columbus.

Case study for surgical technologist student Essay

Case study for surgical technologist student - Essay Example A recommended test will be either a CT scan or an MRI of the brain preferably together with an echocardiogram. The possible diagnosis is a transient ischemic attack or TIA due to smoking. If there is blockage, then a balloon angioplasty or coronary artery bypass surgery is needed. Diabetes causes hyperglycemia which is elevated blood sugar in which an excessive amount of glucose circulates in the blood plasma. Hyperglycemia can cause neuropathy which also includes collateral damage from microvascular injuries as well as macrovascular injuries due to repeated trauma or insults (either vascular or biochemical in nature) and an increased capillary hydrostatic pressure (Joslin & Khan, 2005, p. 1135). Hugos prognosis is five years without claudication when his own vein is used but the fem-pop bypass will remain open in about 50% of the cases five years after surgery if an artificial graft is used. Considering Hugo is now 65 years old, possible complications include leg swelling, bleeding and heart attack or stroke as he is a high-risk case. The risk of death is estimated at 1% to 3% of all surgery cases. 1. Collateral flow – refers to the alternative blood supply flow to the myocardium that has been jeopardized by ischemia (sometimes spelled as ischaemia). This is the process in which small and normally closed blood vessels (arteries) open up to serve as alternate routes if there is coronary heart disease, myocardial ischemia or a stroke (www.americanheart.org). 2. The difference – an ischemia is just a temporary stoppage in the supply of the needed oxygen to the heart for a very brief period of time while an infarction occurs when the heart muscles are deprived of the oxygen for too long that the muscles eventually die. There are other cases of ischemia and infarction occurring other than the heart such as what happens in the intestines due to a hernia, adhesions, arterial