Organ Trafficking free essay sample

Human trafficking and drug trafficking are familiar global issues fueled by criminals, the black market, and illegal businesses. Though most people are familiar with these illicit trades, organ trafficking is just as much of a problem but not as commonly advertised. Organ trafficking is the illegal commercial sale of inner organs for transplants, and a worldwide issue with majority of these black market sales occurring in, but not limited to, countries struggling with poverty. There are multiple different ways that people acquire organs, whether it be a person selling their own organs for a profit, a person being tricked into understanding they need their organ removed, or a person can be forced to have their organs removed for the use of sale. With the high demand for organs and such an insufficient supply, the costs are very high and this trade will continue to thrive. The most commonly trafficked organ is the kidney, which accounts for 10% of all worldwide transplants. We will write a custom essay sample on Organ Trafficking or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page A person can be paid 12,000 dollars for a kidney to be removed and used, but on the black market they can be sold for anywhere up to 40,000 to 60,000 dollars. With this type of profit, this illegal cartel becomes appealing to those in desperation for money. Clinics are set up illegally where a person can go get the surgery for their kidney and be paid for it. Although not always are organs removed voluntarily. Many different cases have been reported in the circumstance where a person was kidnapped and killed for their organs. A young british girl was taken to the hospital to be treated for dehydration, but after being given a shot the young girl instantly collapsed and died. Her organs were later removed and her parents were given the explanation that without them the doctors would be unable to record her death. In Belgrade, a young man was found dead in his apartment. At first the scene looked as though he died after overdosing on morphine, but after investigating further the police found that the scene had been staged, and the man’s heart had been removed. They believed this to be the act of organ traffickers. These types of situations where people are selfish for money would only become more prominent if the an organ market was created. By establishing this market, it would create a loophole for human traffickers, and would exploit the poor by forcing the desperate for money to sell their body while the rich thrive off of it. More commonly than involuntary removal of organs, many people are very willing to give up whatever organs they can in return for money. A disabled mother in Spain was attempting to sell a lung, cornea, a piece of her liver, and kidneys in order to help pay her rent. In hospitals the donor recipient lists can be extremely long, and in some cases people don’t have time to wait on that list to receive their organ. The drive for human survival is tenacious, why risk death when an organ transplant can be found online? If a person decides to have their organs removed or receive organs illegally, then that is their choice. It may not be legal, but it could save someone’s life. Situations like these may cause someone to ask the question of whether the market for human organs should be legalized. Family friends or good samaritans have donated organs in order to help loved ones, or even people they don’t know, but it is no where near enough. By establishing an organ market not only would it cause the number of people turning to the blackmarket in desperation to live to decrease, but it would also enable those wanting to give up an organ for money a legal solution. If a person is able to sell their hair, semen, plasma, etc. then their ability to sell their organs should be no different.

How Social Media Listening Can Improve Your Content Marketing

How Social Media Listening Can Improve Your Content Marketing When producing content, your number one goal should be to add value for your community. That value might be sharing tactics to accomplish their goals, or lessons on how to make the best use of your product. Or it could be introducing them to tools that will make their lives easier, or even to the best restaurants in their city. No matter what your topic (aka value) is, your content is driven by your community. Listening to your community is an obvious first step to unlocking the power of your content marketing, but it’s one that goes tremendously overlooked. Here’s how you can lay the foundation of a strong and sustainable content strategy by  using social media listening  to hear what your community is saying. When producing content, your number one goal should be to add value to your community.Identify Relevant Topics  to Write About Gather invaluable insights by paying attention to what your community is saying to you, to your competitors, and to each other - problems they’re trying to solve, tools they’re using, and what it is about your brand/offering they like or dislike. Monitor specific key terms relevant to your brand with a media monitoring tool (like Mention) to pinpoint your community’s interests as they relate to the problem you’re solving or value you’re adding. Beyond monitoring your brand name, deciding on other keywords to track is as simple as choosing terms related to the problem you solve and mission of your product. For example, we know that our content can be valuable  to anyone looking to learn more about social media listening, social media strategy, community management, Twitter strategy, and content marketing, so we track all of those terms, among others. We recently noticed a trend in conversations around brand advocates  in our community management feed, so we wrote a post on how to convert five types of customers into brand ambassadors  using media monitoring, which performed significantly well. We chose brand ambassadors rather than advocates because from monitoring these conversations, we learned that both are important to a community ecosystem and often (but not always) theyre one in the same. Brand ambassadors also seemed to appeal to a larger marketing-focused audience. If you need more help deciding which terms to track, check out this  guide to keyword research. Identify Headlines with Viral Potential Swayy.co and Scoop.it are effective tools for discovering what stories your network or community is sharing on social media. You can monitor the content that’s most popular among your community as a whole, or based on a specific topic you track. Forums with upvoting capability such as GrowthHackers.com, Inbound.org, and Hacker News are also great places for discovering headlines that resonate with audiences, by tracking which trend. Additionally, Buzzsumo will show you the most popular posts (measured by social shares) on any specific topic. Use the headlines and topics you identify as inspiration for yours, but put your own spin on it by using your own unique case studies,  for example. Or, take a look at the comments and social shares from these articles and see which section resonates with the audience the most, then produce content that elaborates on that particular segment. You can also monitor the key terms used in these headlines to identify what other related topics your audience may be interested in. For example, weve recently seen a lot of content around the role of emotions and psychology in marketing. This happens to be a topic were interested in, so we will create an alert around it, research the topic further, and brainstorm topics that are unique to our offering. By taking this approach, weve seen our content perform well on these forums. Growthhackers is now the fourth  biggest driver  of traffic to our blog. Discover Where Your Audience Hangs Out Media monitoring and social media listening tools provide you with a vehicle for distributing your content directly to where your community is already sharing information. After all, in order to be heard over the noise that is the Internet, sometimes you have to hand deliver your content to where your community is finding information.

Business Success Assignment Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 2000 words

Business Success - Assignment Example In order to satisfy customers, products should be competitively priced and should have the desired quality. This is the only was a firm can build up long term relationships with the customers. The goal of conducting the internal analysis is to find the answer to the question that why the economic performance of some companies are better than the others in the competition. Internal analysis of a particular firm analyzes and lists out the relative weaknesses and strengths of a company as compared to its competitors. By conducting Internal Analysis, the strengths as well as the weaknesses of the firm can be analysed. This helps to compare the strengths and weaknesses with that of other firms, too. Internal analysis also helps determine the resources along with the capabilities required that may help sustain the company in the competitive market. According to Porter's Internal Value Chain, the primary activities required for the internal analysis are production, inbound logistics, sales and marketing, warehousing and distribution along with the dealer support and customer service. The support activities required are infrastructure, procurement, human resource management and r esearch and development technology. (Barney and Hesterly, n.d., A) Human resource is one of the key factors that influence a firm's success in the competitive market. ... If a particular firm has rare and valuable resources that are difficult to be replicated by competitors, then the firm is at an inherent advantageous position. However, the firm should strategies in place to leverage these strengths to generate competitive advantages. A business organization also needs to pay due attention to the intangible assets along with the tangible ones like brand equity, Intellectual Property and the knowledgebase residing within the employees of the company. This is highly beneficial while implementing and conceiving the strategies. If a company's co-operative relationships are better, then quite naturally that firm is at an advantageous position. (Barney and Hesterly, n.d., A) However to maintain a smooth and uninterrupted supply of human resource, companies need to make sure that the employees in general are happy and the labourers in particular. It is seen from the past records that industries were there is a high tendency of labourers forming unions; the net profitability is comparatively much less, as in steel, airlines and automobiles. Companies irrespective of their size and domain of operation should strive to keep the tendency of forming labour unions at the lowest best to yield maximum profit. Fig. 1 shows how the percentage of profitability decreases with an increase in the percentage of employees unionized. Fig. 1: The Impact of Unionisation on Profitability (Source: Robert M. Grant, 1998) Another important factor responsible for a company's success is the marketing skill. It might happen that the products offered by a firm are of superior quality and is also offered at competitive prices, but the customers might be unaware of the particular product. So, it is very much necessary to know the art of

Analyze the Slave Petitions in light of the key changes taking place Essay

Analyze the Slave Petitions in light of the key changes taking place in this new American society - Essay Example They campaigned for equality and recognition of their rights and racial acceptance among other Americans, who still embraced unjust treatment through slavery. This compelled blacks in new American society to lobby for recognition through petitions that they submitted to congress and senate for redress despite the open hostility that they faced from their white counterparts. Slave petitions were vital in the campaign for the rights of blacks, mostly slaves, in new American society. This is what later resulted to the 1963 match to Washington. During the match, Martin Luther delivered his renowned speech advocating for the rights of black slaves in new America. Besides King and his proponents’ efforts, there several other slave petitions were praiseworthy for the changes attained in new American society. They brought recognition for Black Americans, enhanced justice and appreciation. Before the petitions, the nation’s culture and societal set-up was one that could not withstand the face of revolutionary changes. As such, the culture, societal set-up and political landscape of the U.S. changed significantly and subsequently during the course of the journey. The America revolution began during the 18th century during when it attained its independence from the British. The declaration of independence rendered Americans including blacks free and independent (Williams 21). Essentially, slave petitions in the new American society sought to restore black Americans’ sovereign and the recognition of their rights (Main, Mark and John 226). Slave petitions propagated for liberty and self-representative and were an awakening during the revolutionary war. Proponents of slave petitions opted to pursue the representative way. In 1774, blacks submitted the petition of "A Grate Number of Blackes". Through the petition, enslaved Americans advocated for freedom as a fortune of the revolution (Dorsey 152). It is during this time that the slaves also took

Owning vs. Renting - phase 3 ip Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Owning vs. Renting - phase 3 ip - Essay Example The bank is going to ask for a down payment. A down payment can range between 10 to 20%. Let’s assume I have the down payment money. The bank is also going to ask for closing cost on the mortgage. The average closing cost is 3%, but in certain states it can go up as high as 5% to 6% (Federalreserve). I am making about $4000 a month gross, but clean I’m taking home a little less than $3,000 a month. Assuming I put a 10% down payment the high price range of a home based on my salary would be $200,000 on a 30 year mortgage. My mortgage payment assuming a 6% interest rate would be $1079.19 (Yahoo). After doing some research on the prices of apartments in our hometown of Austin, Texas I determined that I can find an apartment for rent for about $800. For example a two bedroom, one bath apartment at the Walnut Creek Crossing complex cost $805 a month (Apartments). A one room could be found for about $200 less per month, but it is better to have a second room for either a home office or as a guest room when friends or relatives come over. Along with the mortgage or rent payment another factor that must be considered are insurance costs. The insurance costs are much higher for the buying alternative than for the leasing. Homeowners insurance is mandatory for people that have mortgages because in case of an accident that destroys the home somebody has to pay for it. Home owner’s insurance policy is divided into two parts: a) home insurance property protection, b) home insurance liability protection (Answers). Renters can also have insurance protection to protect their personal items in case of natural disaster, but this type of insurance is not mandatory. Another cost to consider when buying a home is the state taxes that must be paid on the property on a yearly basis. After evaluating both alternatives I have come to realization that the best option for me at this point in my life is to rent

Analysis of The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Analysis of The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock Modernist Disillusionment in The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock Unlike the romantic period that preceded it, the modernist literary movement reflected the feelings of a Lost Generation affected by industrialization and war trauma. As such, modernist literature often employs cynical or detached worldviews in angsty tones. The most famous writer of the movement, T.S Eliot, explored modernist themes of disillusionment through poetry. One of his poems,The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, focuses on the theme of indecisiveness as a symptom of modernization in society. T.S Eliots Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock is representative of the modernist literary canon through its exploration of the speakers personal feelings of anxiety and stagnation. The repetition of questions and refrains in The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock is used to express the speakers self-doubt and insecurity in a modernized, changing society. The poem primarily focuses on the speakers inability to talk to women, and how this relates to his fragile self-esteem as a whole. Throughout the poem, the speaker repeats,In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo (lines 13-14). This repeated observation of the women coming and going serves as a disruption to the speakers hypothetical dialogue with the woman he loves. He is unable to approach women because they intimidate him, especially in a new society where women are more educated and independent. The speaker also uses repetition by questioning himself ,How should I presume? (line 54). The question follows his memories of past rejections, wavering his resolve to pursue a woman romantically. He is so paralyzed by his insecurity that he cannot even hold a conversation. This repetition is significan t because it shows the speaker questioning his place in society, a common theme in modernist writing. Eliots poem also incorporates multiple allusions to classic literary works, which are indicative of modernist skepticism of tradition. The references come from varied texts, including the Bible, Dante, Chaucer, and Greek philosophers, but Eliot especially focuses on Shakespeare. In one stanza, the speaker laments No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two (lines 111-113). Here, the speaker feels a lack of personal agency, and only sees himself as an extension of others; he will only ever be in a supporting role for those who lead.ÂÂ   J. Alfred Prufrock will never lead a progress like Chaucer, or woo a coy mistress like Marvell, just like he will never be the Hamlet or Lazarus he wishes he was. He is too scared to even try. Classical allusions like this are a signature of the modernist writing, where the traditional is used as a framework for contemplating the contemporary. These allusions are meant to show the speakers weakness, of what he can never attain.They are not used for glorifying the past, but for questioning the present. In the poem, the speakers fear of inadequacy with women is connected to his larger fear of aging and mortality, and shows his existential crisis. When trying to gather the courage to pursue his romantic interest, the speaker resigns I am no prophet and heres no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid (lines 83-86). The speaker sees his social awkwardness as more than just situational; it is the story of his life, the only thing that defines his character. In every small failed interaction, he feels that his life has no importance, and that any instance of success is fleeting. He imagines Death, the eternal Footman, mocking him, just as he imagines women mocking him. Through this imagery, the speaker imagines his failure to win over the woman he loves as the literal death of him. By connecting romantic insecurity with existential insecurity, T.S. Eliot explores both the sma ll- and large-scale implications of modernist thought. Modernist literature differed from previous literary movements in its exploration of the internal mind, rather than the external world. Although deeply affected by external societal issues (industrialization, imperialism, war), modernist style primarily focuses on personal psyche. Modernist literary works often take the form of stream-of-consciousness, or in the case of The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, dramatic monologue, rarely with any input of interpersonal dialogue. By turning the narrative inward, modernism sought to expose how the world at large can impact the individual body and mind. The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock remains a primary example of modernism because of its ability to make the reader connect so personally with the speakers internal conflicts, and consequently understand the external conflicts of the early 20th century. Works Cited Eliot, T. S. The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. N.p.: n.p., 1915. Print.

Type of Genre :: essays research papers

Type of genre and its importance by "Briton Hammon" Briton Hammon's captivity narrative was a well-recognized African American prose text that was published in North America. His life has been limited to the information that is within his narrative. While reading through his prose it is still undetermined as to whether he was a servant or a slave. In his narrative he has tried to explain a life of a man of African decent and how he gets along with the public sphere and made use of the opportunities he was given. Hammon mainly discussed the issue of his suffering while he was in captivity. In the introduction he explains him and other people were brought to the shore and were suddenly attack by sixty Native Americans, "†¦but on advancing yet nearer, we found them, to our Surprize, to be Indians of which there were Sixty; being now so near them we could not possibly make our Escape." (pg 1005) He says as soon as they figured out who these people were it was already too late to escape. He also says that all their arms and necessary items were taken away from them. While reading along his narrative, Hammon describes how these Indian caused an environment of terror among these people, and how he tried to escape from these savages and was once again trapped with them. Soon he escaped from these villains by getting aboard a Spanish schooner, later he was imprisoned again in a dungeon for four years in Spain because he refused to serve their ships. After escaping that imprisonmen t Hammon worked in Cuba, which lead to his opportunity to go back to London. As said before, Hammon's life is limited to the information contained within the narrative. He had spent thirteen years of his life in captivity. Hammon's narrative is one of the best examples of genre. He chose to write a narrative so that his audience thoroughly understand the hardships that he went through while being an African decent and a captive. According to his writing he was liked were ever he went as a prisoner, which forced the Indians to request an appeal for his relief, "†¦[the Captain] came to the Prison, and ask'd the Keeper if he might see me; upon his Request I was brought out of the Dungeon†¦intercede with the Governor for my Relief†¦and the next Day the Governor sent an order to release me.

A Game of Thrones Chapter Sixty-five

Arya The scent of hot bread drifting from the shops along the Street of Flour was sweeter than any perfume Arya had ever smelled. She took a deep breath and stepped closer to the pigeon. It was a plump one, speckled brown, busily pecking at a crust that had fallen between two cobblestones, but when Arya's shadow touched it, it took to the air. Her stick sword whistled out and caught it two feet off the ground, and it went down in a flurry of brown feathers. She was on it in the blink of an eye, grabbing a wing as the pigeon flapped and fluttered. It pecked at her hand. She grabbed its neck and twisted until she felt the bone snap. Compared with catching cats, pigeons were easy. A passing septon was looking at her askance. â€Å"Here's the best place to find pigeon,† Arya told him as she brushed herself off and picked up her fallen stick sword. â€Å"They come for the crumbs.† He hurried away. She tied the pigeon to her belt and started down the street. A man was pushing a load of tarts by on a two-wheeled cart; the smells sang of blueberries and lemons and apricots. Her stomach made a hollow rumbly noise. â€Å"Could I have one?† she heard herself say. â€Å"A lemon, or . . . or any kind.† The pushcart man looked her up and down. Plainly he did not like what he saw. â€Å"Three coppers.† Arya tapped her wooden sword against the side of her boot. â€Å"I'll trade you a fat pigeon,† she said. â€Å"The Others take your pigeon,† the pushcart man said. The tarts were still warm from the oven. The smells were making her mouth water, but she did not have three coppers . . . or one. She gave the pushcart man a look, remembering what Syrio had told her about seeing. He was short, with a little round belly, and when he moved he seemed to favor his left leg a little. She was just thinking that if she snatched a tart and ran he would never be able to catch her when he said, â€Å"You be keepin' your filthy hands off. The gold cloaks know how to deal with thieving little gutter rats, that they do.† Arya glanced warily behind her. Two of the City Watch were standing at the mouth of an alley. Their cloaks hung almost to the ground, the heavy wool dyed a rich gold; their mail and boots and gloves were black. One wore a longsword at his hip, the other an iron cudgel. With a last wistful glance at the tarts, Arya edged back from the cart and hurried off. The gold cloaks had not been paying her any special attention, but the sight of them tied her stomach in knots. Arya had been staying as far from the castle as she could get, yet even from a distance she could see the heads rotting atop the high red walls. Flocks of crows squabbled noisily over each head, thick as flies. The talk in Flea Bottom was that the gold cloaks had thrown in with the Lannisters, their commander raised to a lord, with lands on the Trident and a seat on the king's council. She had also heard other things, scary things, things that made no sense to her. Some said her father had murdered King Robert and been slain in turn by Lord Renly. Others insisted that Renly had killed the king in a drunken quarrel between brothers. Why else should he have fled in the night like a common thief? One story said the king had been killed by a boar while hunting, another that he'd died eating a boar, stuffing himself so full that he'd ruptured at the table. No, the king had died at table, others said, but only because Varys the Spider poisoned him. No, it had been the queen who poisoned him. No, he had died of a pox. No, he had choked on a fish bone. One thing all the stories agreed on: King Robert was dead. The bells in the seven towers of the Great Sept of Baelor had tolled for a day and a night, the thunder of their grief rolling across the city in a bronze tide. They only rang the bells like that for the death of a king, a tanner's boy told Arya. All she wanted was to go home, but leaving King's Landing was not so easy as she had hoped. Talk of war was on every lip, and gold cloaks were as thick on the city walls as fleas on . . . well, her, for one. She had been sleeping in Flea Bottom, on rooftops and in stables, wherever she could find a place to lie down, and it hadn't taken her long to learn that the district was well named. Every day since her escape from the Red Keep, Arya had visited each of the seven city gates in turn. The Dragon Gate, the Lion Gate, and the Old Gate were closed and barred. The Mud Gate and the Gate of the Gods were open, but only to those who wanted to enter the city; the guards let no one out. Those who were allowed to leave left by the King's Gate or the Iron Gate, but Lannister men-at-arms in crimson cloaks and lion-crested helms manned the guard posts there. Spying down from the roof of an inn by the King's Gate, Arya saw them searching wagons and carriages, forcing riders to open their saddlebags, and questioning everyone who tried to pass on foot. Sometimes she thought about swimming the river, but the Blackwater Rush was wide and deep, and everyone agreed that its currents were wicked and treacherous. She had no coin to pay a ferryman or take passage on a ship. Her lord father had taught her never to steal, but it was growing harder to remember why. If she did not get out soon, she would have to take her chances with the gold cloaks. She hadn't gone hungry much since she learned to knock down birds with her stick sword, but she feared so much pigeon was making her sick. A couple she'd eaten raw, before she found Flea Bottom. In the Bottom there were pot-shops along the alleys where huge tubs of stew had been simmering for years, and you could trade half your bird for a heel of yesterday's bread and a â€Å"bowl o' brown,† and they'd even stick the other half in the fire and crisp it up for you, so long as you plucked the feathers yourself. Arya would have given anything for a cup of milk and a lemon cake, but the brown wasn't so bad. It usually had barley in it, and chunks of carrot and onion and turnip, and sometimes even apple, with a film of grease swimming on top. Mostly she tried not to think about the meat. Once she had gotten a piece of fish. The only thing was, the pot-shops were never empty, and even as she bolted down her food, Arya could feel them watching. Some of them stared at her boots or her cloak, and she knew what they were thinking. With others, she could almost feel their eyes crawling under her leathers; she didn't know what they were thinking, and that scared her even more. A couple times, she was followed out into the alleys and chased, but so far no one had been able to catch her. The silver bracelet she'd hoped to sell had been stolen her first night out of the castle, along with her bundle of good clothes, snatched while she slept in a burnt-out house off Pig Alley. All they left her was the cloak she had been huddled in, the leathers on her back, her wooden practice sword . . . and Needle. She'd been lying on top of Needle, or else it would have been gone too; it was worth more than all the rest together. Since then Arya had taken to walking around with her cloak draped over her right arm, to conceal the blade at her hip. The wooden sword she carried in her left hand, out where everybody could see it, to scare off robbers, but there were men in the pot-shops who wouldn't have been scared off if she'd had a battle-axe. It was enough to make her lose her taste for pigeon and stale bread. Often as not, she went to bed hungry rather than risk the stares. Once she was outside the city, she would find berries to pick, or orchards she might raid for apples and cherries. Arya remembered seeing some from the kingsroad on the journey south. And she could dig for roots in the forest, even run down some rabbits. In the city, the only things to run down were rats and cats and scrawny dogs. The potshops would give you a fistful of coppers for a litter of pups, she'd heard, but she didn't like to think about that. Down below the Street of Flour was a maze of twisting alleys and cross streets. Arya scrambled through the crowds, trying to put distance between her and the gold cloaks. She had learned to keep to the center of the street. Sometimes she had to dodge wagons and horses, but at least you could see them coming. If you walked near the buildings, people grabbed you. In some alleys you couldn't help but brush against the walls; the buildings leaned in so close they almost met. A whooping gang of small children went running past, chasing a rolling hoop. Arya stared at them with resentment, remembering the times she'd played at hoops with Bran and Jon and their baby brother Rickon. She wondered how big Rickon had grown, and whether Bran was sad. She would have given anything if Jon had been here to call her â€Å"little sister† and muss her hair. Not that it needed mussing. She'd seen her reflection in puddles, and she didn't think hair got any more mussed than hers. She had tried talking to the children she saw in the street, hoping to make a friend who would give her a place to sleep, but she must have talked wrong or something. The little ones only looked at her with quick, wary eyes and ran away if she came too close. Their big brothers and sisters asked questions Arya couldn't answer, called her names, and tried to steal from her. Only yesterday, a scrawny barefoot girl twice her age had knocked her down and tried to pull the boots off her feet, but Arya gave her a crack on her ear with her stick sword that sent her off sobbing and bleeding. A gull wheeled overhead as she made her way down the hill toward Flea Bottom. Arya glanced at it thoughtfully, but it was well beyond the reach of her stick. It made her think of the sea. Maybe that was the way out. Old Nan used to tell stories of boys who stowed away on trading galleys and sailed off into all kinds of adventures. Maybe Arya could do that too. She decided to visit the riverfront. It was on the way to the Mud Gate anyway, and she hadn't checked that one today. The wharfs were oddly quiet when Arya got there. She spied another pair of gold cloaks, walking side by side through the fish market, but they never so much as looked at her. Half the stalls were empty, and it seemed to her that there were fewer ships at dock than she remembered. Out on the Blackwater, three of the king's war galleys moved in formation, gold-painted hulls splitting the water as their oars rose and fell. Arya watched them for a bit, then began to make her way along the river. When she saw the guardsmen on the third pier, in grey woolen cloaks trimmed with white satin, her heart almost stopped in her chest. The sight of Winterfell's colors brought tears to her eyes. Behind them, a sleek three-banked trading galley rocked at her moorings. Arya could not read the name painted on the hull; the words were strange, Myrish, Braavosi, perhaps even High Valyrian. She grabbed a passing longshoreman by the sleeve. â€Å"Please,† she said, â€Å"what ship is this?† â€Å"She's the Wind Witch, out of Myr,† the man said. â€Å"She's still here,† Arya blurted. The longshoreman gave her a queer look, shrugged, and walked away. Arya ran toward the pier. The Wind Witch was the ship Father had hired to take her home . . . still waiting! She'd imagined it had sailed ages ago. Two of the guardsmen were dicing together while the third walked rounds, his hand on the pommel of his sword. Ashamed to let them see her crying like a baby, she stopped to rub at her eyes. Her eyes her eyes her eyes, why did . . . Look with your eyes, she heard Syrio whisper. Arya looked. She knew all of her father's men. The three in the grey cloaks were strangers. â€Å"You,† the one walking rounds called out. â€Å"What do you want here, boy?† The other two looked up from their dice. It was all Arya could do not to bolt and run, but she knew that if she did, they would be after her at once. She made herself walk closer. They were looking for a girl, but he thought she was a boy. She'd be a boy, then. â€Å"Want to buy a pigeon?† She showed him the dead bird. â€Å"Get out of here,† the guardsman said. Arya did as he told her. She did not have to pretend to be frightened. Behind her, the men went back to their dice. She could not have said how she got back to Flea Bottom, but she was breathing hard by the time she reached the narrow crooked unpaved streets between the hills. The Bottom had a stench to it, a stink of pigsties and stables and tanner's sheds, mixed in with the sour smell of winesinks and cheap whorehouses. Arya wound her way through the maze dully. It was not until she caught a whiff of bubbling brown coming through a pot-shop door that she realized her pigeon was gone. It must have slipped from her belt as she ran, or someone had stolen it and she'd never noticed. For a moment she wanted to cry again. She'd have to walk all the way back to the Street of Flour to find another one that plump. Far across the city, bells began to ring. Arya glanced up, listening, wondering what the ringing meant this time. â€Å"What's this now?† a fat man called from the pot-shop. â€Å"The bells again, gods ha'mercy,† wailed an old woman. A red-haired whore in a wisp of painted silk pushed open a second-story window. â€Å"Is it the boy king that's died now?† she shouted down, leaning out over the street. â€Å"Ah, that's a boy for you, they never last long.† As she laughed, a naked man slid his arms around her from behind, biting her neck and rubbing the heavy white breasts that hung loose beneath her shift. â€Å"Stupid slut,† the fat man shouted up. â€Å"The king's not dead, that's only summoning bells. One tower tolling. When the king dies, they ring every bell in the city.† â€Å"Here, quit your biting, or I'll ring your bells,† the woman in the window said to the man behind her, pushing him off with an elbow. â€Å"So who is it died, if not the king?† â€Å"It's a summoning,† the fat man repeated. Two boys close to Arya's age scampered past, splashing through a puddle. The old woman cursed them, but they kept right on going. Other people were moving too, heading up the hill to see what the noise was about. Arya ran after the slower boy. â€Å"Where you going?† she shouted when she was right behind him. â€Å"What's happening?† He glanced back without slowing. â€Å"The gold cloaks is carryin' him to the sept.† â€Å"Who?† she yelled, running hard. â€Å"The Hand! They'll be taking his head off, Buu says.† A passing wagon had left a deep rut in the street. The boy leapt over, but Arya never saw it. She tripped and fell, face first, scraping her knee open on a stone and smashing her fingers when her hands hit the hard-packed earth. Needle tangled between her legs. She sobbed as she struggled to her knees. The thumb of her left hand was covered with blood. When she sucked on it, she saw that half the thumbnail was gone, ripped off in her fall. Her hands throbbed, and her knee was all bloody too. â€Å"Make way!† someone shouted from the cross street. â€Å"Make way for my lords of Redwyne!† It was all Arya could do to get out of the road before they ran her down, four guardsmen on huge horses, pounding past at a gallop. They wore checked cloaks, blue-and-burgundy. Behind them, two young lordlings rode side by side on a pair of chestnut mares alike as peas in a pod. Arya had seen them in the bailey a hundred times; the Redwyne twins, Ser Horas and Ser Hobber, homely youths with orange hair and square, freckled faces. Sansa and Jeyne Poole used to call them Ser Horror and Ser Slobber, and giggle whenever they caught sight of them. They did not look funny now. Everyone was moving in the same direction, all in a hurry to see what the ringing was all about. The bells seemed louder now, clanging, calling. Arya joined the stream of people. Her thumb hurt so bad where the nail had broken that it was all she could do not to cry. She bit her lip as she limped along, listening to the excited voices around her. â€Å"—the King's Hand, Lord Stark. They're carrying him up to Baelor's Sept.† â€Å"I heard he was dead.† â€Å"Soon enough, soon enough. Here, I got me a silver stag says they lop his head off.† â€Å"Past time, the traitor.† The man spat. Arya struggled to find a voice. â€Å"He never—† she started, but she was only a child and they talked right over her. â€Å"Fool! They ain't neither going to lop him. Since when do they knick traitors on the steps of the Great Sept?† â€Å"Well, they don't mean to anoint him no knight. I heard it was Stark killed old King Robert. Slit his throat in the woods, and when they found him, he stood there cool as you please and said it was some old boar did for His Grace.† â€Å"Ah, that's not true, it was his own brother did him, that Renly, him with his gold antlers.† â€Å"You shut your lying mouth, woman. You don't know what you're saying, his lordship's a fine true man.† By the time they reached the Street of the Sisters, they were packed in shoulder to shoulder. Arya let the human current carry her along, up to the top of Visenya's Hill. The white marble plaza was a solid mass of people, all yammering excitedly at each other and straining to get closer to the Great Sept of Baelor. The bells were very loud here. Arya squirmed through the press, ducking between the legs of horses and clutching tight to her sword stick. From the middle of the crowd, all she could see were arms and legs and stomachs, and the seven slender towers of the sept looming overhead. She spotted a wood wagon and thought to climb up on the back where she might be able to see, but others had the same idea. The teamster cursed at them and drove them off with a crack of his whip. Arya grew frantic. Forcing her way to the front of the crowd, she was shoved up against the stone of a plinth. She looked up at Baelor the Blessed, the septon king. Sliding her stick sword through her belt, Arya began to climb. Her broken thumbnail left smears of blood on the painted marble, but she made it up, and wedged herself in between the king's feet. That was when she saw her father. Lord Eddard stood on the High Septon's pulpit outside the doors of the sept, supported between two of the gold cloaks. He was dressed in a rich grey velvet doublet with a white wolf sewn on the front in beads, and a grey wool cloak trimmed with fur, but he was thinner than Arya had ever seen him, his long face drawn with pain. He was not standing so much as being held up; the cast over his broken leg was grey and rotten. The High Septon himself stood behind him, a squat man, grey with age and ponderously fat, wearing long white robes and an immense crown of spun gold and crystal that wreathed his head with rainbows whenever he moved. Clustered around the doors of the sept, in front of the raised marble pulpit, were a knot of knights and high lords. Joffrey was prominent among them, his raiment all crimson, silk and satin patterned with prancing stags and roaring lions, a gold crown on his head. His queen mother stood beside him in a black mourning gown slashed with crimson, a veil of black diamonds in her hair. Arya recognized the Hound, wearing a snowy white cloak over his dark grey armor, with four of the Kingsguard around him. She saw Varys the eunuch gliding among the lords in soft slippers and a patterned damask robe, and she thought the short man with the silvery cape and pointed beard might be the one who had once fought a duel for Mother. And there in their midst was Sansa, dressed in sky-blue silk, with her long auburn hair washed and curled and silver bracelets on her wrists. Arya scowled, wondering what her sister was doing here, why she looked so happy. A long line of gold-cloaked spearmen held back the crowd, commanded by a stout man in elaborate armor, all black lacquer and gold filigree. His cloak had the metallic shimmer of true cloth-of-gold. When the bell ceased to toll, a quiet slowly settled across the great plaza, and her father lifted his head and began to speak, his voice so thin and weak she could scarcely make him out. People behind her began to shout out, â€Å"What?† and â€Å"Louder!† The man in the black-and-gold armor stepped up behind Father and prodded him sharply. You leave him alone! Arya wanted to shout, but she knew no one would listen. She chewed her lip. Her father raised his voice and began again. â€Å"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King,† he said more loudly, his voice carrying across the plaza, â€Å"and I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of gods and men.† â€Å"No,† Arya whimpered. Below her, the crowd began to scream and shout. Taunts and obscenities filled the air. Sansa had hidden her face in her hands. Her father raised his voice still higher, straining to be heard. â€Å"I betrayed the faith of my king and the trust of my friend, Robert,† he shouted. â€Å"I swore to defend and protect his children, yet before his blood was cold, I plotted to depose and murder his son and seize the throne for myself. Let the High Septon and Baelor the Beloved and the Seven bear witness to the truth of what I say: Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, and by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.† A stone came sailing out of the crowd. Arya cried out as she saw her father hit. The gold cloaks kept him from falling. Blood ran down his face from a deep gash across his forehead. More stones followed. One struck the guard to Father's left. Another went clanging off the breastplate of the knight in the black-and-gold armor. Two of the Kingsguard stepped in front of Joffrey and the queen, protecting them with their shields. Her hand slid beneath her cloak and found Needle in its sheath. She tightened her fingers around the grip, squeezing as hard as she had ever squeezed anything. Please, gods, keep him safe, she prayed. Don't let them hurt my father. The High Septon knelt before Joffrey and his mother. â€Å"As we sin, so do we suffer,† he intoned, in a deep swelling voice much louder than Father's. â€Å"This man has confessed his crimes in the sight of gods and men, here in this holy place.† Rainbows danced around his head as he lifted his hands in entreaty. â€Å"The gods are just, yet Blessed Baelor taught us that they are also merciful. What shall be done with this traitor, Your Grace?† A thousand voices were screaming, but Arya never heard them. Prince Joffrey . . . no, King Joffrey . . . stepped out from behind the shields of his Kingsguard. â€Å"My mother bids me let Lord Eddard take the black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father.† He looked straight at Sansa then, and smiled, and for a moment Arya thought that the gods had heard her prayer, until Joffrey turned back to the crowd and said, â€Å"But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!† The crowd roared, and Arya felt the statue of Baelor rock as they surged against it. The High Septon clutched at the king's cape, and Varys came rushing over waving his arms, and even the queen was saying something to him, but Joffrey shook his head. Lords and knights moved aside as he stepped through, tall and fleshless, a skeleton in iron mail, the King's Justice. Dimly, as if from far off, Arya heard her sister scream. Sansa had fallen to her knees, sobbing hysterically. Ser Ilyn Payne climbed the steps of the pulpit. Arya wriggled between Baelor's feet and threw herself into the crowd, drawing Needle. She landed on a man in a butcher's apron, knocking him to the ground. Immediately someone slammed into her back and she almost went down herself. Bodies closed in around her, stumbling and pushing, trampling on the poor butcher. Arya slashed at them with Needle. High atop the pulpit, Ser Ilyn Payne gestured and the knight in black-and-gold gave a command. The gold cloaks flung Lord Eddard to the marble, with his head and chest out over the edge. â€Å"Here, you!† an angry voice shouted at Arya, but she bowled past, shoving people aside, squirming between them, slamming into anyone in her way. A hand fumbled at her leg and she hacked at it, kicked at shins. A woman stumbled and Arya ran up her back, cutting to both sides, but it was no good, no good, there were too many people, no sooner did she make a hole than it closed again. Someone buffeted her aside. She could still hear Sansa screaming. Ser Ilyn drew a two-handed greatsword from the scabbard on his back. As he lifted the blade above his head, sunlight seemed to ripple and dance down the dark metal, glinting off an edge sharper than any razor. Ice, she thought, he has Ice! Her tears streamed down her face, blinding her. And then a hand shot out of the press and closed round her arm like a wolf trap, so hard that Needle went flying from her hand. Arya was wrenched off her feet. She would have fallen if he hadn't held her up, as easy as if she were a doll. A face pressed close to hers, long black hair and tangled beard and rotten teeth. â€Å"Don't look!† a thick voice snarled at her. â€Å"I . . . I . . . I . . . † Arya sobbed. The old man shook her so hard her teeth rattled. â€Å"Shut your mouth and close your eyes, boy.† Dimly, as if from far away, she heard a . . . a noise . . . a soft sighing sound, as if a million people had let out their breath at once. The old man's fingers dug into her arm, stiff as iron. â€Å"Look at me. Yes, that's the way of it, at me.† Sour wine perfumed his breath. â€Å"Remember, boy?† It was the smell that did it. Arya saw the matted greasy hair, the patched, dusty black cloak that covered his twisted shoulders, the hard black eyes squinting at her. And she remembered the black brother who had come to visit her father. â€Å"Know me now, do you? There's a bright boy.† He spat. â€Å"They're done here. You'll be coming with me, and you'll be keeping your mouth shut.† When she started to reply, he shook her again, even harder. â€Å"Shut, I said.† The plaza was beginning to empty. The press dissolved around them as people drifted back to their lives. But Arya's life was gone. Numb, she trailed along beside . . . Yoren, yes, his name is Yoren. She did not recall him finding Needle, until he handed the sword back to her. â€Å"Hope you can use that, boy.† â€Å"I'm not—† she started. He shoved her into a doorway, thrust dirty fingers through her hair, and gave it a twist, yanking her head back. â€Å"—not a smart boy, that what you mean to say?† He had a knife in his other hand. As the blade flashed toward her face, Arya threw herself backward, kicking wildly, wrenching her head from side to side, but he had her by the hair, so strong, she could feel her scalp tearing, and on her lips the salt taste of tears.

Yellow Earth Essays

Yellow Earth Essays Yellow Earth Paper Yellow Earth Paper According to the New York State Writers Institute Yellow Earth has swiped away viewers of almost every nationality. The burst of Yellow Earth in the Chinese culture surpassed any film before made by any Japanese arena. It meant future hope for cinematographers like Zhang Yimou and Chen Kaige which have enthralled cinemagoers with works like Red Sorghum and Farewell, My Concubine. As with other trailblazers, the Fifth Generation needed a breakthrough movie to bring them to the attention of viewers at home and abroad. This new era of filming color and graphics for the viewers back in 1984 was a smashing hit for the Chinese community. It brought a new way of thinking for many up to now film makers which back in those days visualization in films was not an option. As of 1984 and after the making of Yellow Earth there was great propaganda for Chinese films, specifically filmed and produced by Zhang and Chen who established themselves at the forefront of world cinema surpassing Japanese films because of their unique way and avenues to new ways of making film. This has made Chinese cinema since 1949 the state propaganda machine. Yellow Earth, which is set in 1939, centers on the relationship between Gu Qing, a member of the Eighth Route Army, and a peasant family. Gu comes to the village to compile a collection of folk songs; he meets the young Cuiqiao and her family. She is due to enter into an arranged marriage, which terrifies her. She is inspired by Gus stories of girls fighting in the army; she asks him whether she can follow him back to Yanan. While she awaits his return, she is forced to marry her appointed groom. She decides to try to join an army unit that is camping on the other side of the Yellow River. The relationship between the people who live and love this land, the party of soldiers and the land; giving the film its title of Yellow Earth. This is a Maoist revolutionary thought. The people from china struggle against the hardships of the land as they have done throughout history. Yellow Earth’s message is not openly showing and pointing out the major problems which China has come across in the past and still does against the vast masses and it’s situations but it discusses and brings reality to the viewers concerning communism and it’s purpose for the people. â€Å"Here to save the people† as Cuiqao says placing her faith and her passion with the soldiers who believe in the same cause and contributes to her inspiration of making her land a better place to live. This is the first film to emerge from China and one of the most thrilling debut features of the 80s; catching the attention of the viewers, nationally and internationally. A Communist soldier visits a backward village in 1939, and is billeted with a taciturn widower and his teenage daughter and son. The soldiers mission is to collect folk songs, and its through the exchange of songs that he gradually wins the trust and affection of his hosts. The widower’s young daughter is to be sold into marriage with a much older man. The soldiers conversations of breaking up with feudal tradition fills her with unrealistic hopes of escaping her fate as she insistently thinks of a way of leaving her fate to her own battle. The soldier returns to his base, leaving her to take her future in her own hands. There are political undercurrents here that got the film into trouble in China: the encounter between the CP and Chinas peasants is shown not as an instant meeting of minds, but as the uneasy, frustrating, and ultimately unresolved process that it actually was. What really stirred things up in old Beijing was the films insistence on going its own way. Chen Kaige and his cinematographer Zhang Yimou have invented a new language of colors, shadows, glances, spaces, and unspoken thoughts and implications; and theyve made their own language be spoken to anyone involved in the making of this movie as well as viewers from all over the world. Consistent with Chinese art, Zhang Yimous cinematography works with a limited range of colors, natural lighting, and a non-perspective use of filmic space that aspires to a Taoist thought :Silent is the roaring Sound, Formless is the Image Grand. The use of silence as a component of Third Cinema is much like the empty space of Chinese art or cinema. The long shots of the natural environment possess a respect that is accompanied by silence. By drawing upon characteristics of Chinese art, the fifth generation of Chinas film-makers create a new vocabulary, a new filmic language with which to work. By challenging Western aesthetic practice, films such as Yellow Earth can be placed within the realm of a Third Cinema.

Intermediate Level Reading Comprehension

Intermediate Level Reading Comprehension The following intermediate level reading comprehension exercise focuses on the tourism industry, in particular on vocabulary related to accommodations. Valley View Camping Ground Many seasoned tourists find they dont like staying in hotels, and that they prefer to avoid large cities. Does this description fit you? If the answer is yes, The Mountain View Camping Ground is for you. Our camping grounds overlook the spectacular Hampson Valley. We rent tents, bungalows, and roulettes. If DIY yourself is your style bring your own tents or roulettes. All guests enjoy access to cooking facilities, bathrooms with bathing facilities, and a playground for the children. Our panoramic setting offers a wide variety of recreation activities as well as inspiring views of the mountains. Chisom, a quaint summer-resort village, is just 10 minutes by car. Take advantage of the many entertainments, shopping and relaxation opportunities including fitness centers, laundry/valet services, solariums and much more. Have lunch in one of the many restaurants and savor the tasty local cuisine. Mountain View Camping Ground offers fun, relaxation and opportunities for all types of outdoor activities. Call us today to find out how we can make your next holiday perfect. Key Vocabulary Bathing facilities- a place to take a shower or a bath and washBungalow- a small, detached type of accommodationCamping grounds- an area where people can use their tents, roulettes, etc. to campCuisine- style of cookingDIY- do it yourselfFitness centers- a place to get in shapeLaundry/Valet- a shop which will clean your clothesPlayground- a place where children can playQuaint- charmingRecreation- free time activityRoulette- a camperSeasoned tourist- a tourist who has traveled a lotTasty- very good foodTent- a portable enclosure made of cloth in which people can sleepTo avoid- to try to not do somethingTo fit someone- to be appropriate for someoneTo overlook- to have a view ofTo savor- to enjoy greatly Comprehension Quiz 1. What type of tourist is described at the beginning of the reading? A first-time touristAn old touristA tourist who has traveled a lot 2. The camping grounds overlook: A tall mountainAn area between mountainsA city center 3. What type of accommodation can you not bring with you? A rouletteA tentA bungalow 4. Who cooks dinner? The guestsThe chef at the camping ground restaurantDoesnt say 5. What does Valley View offer besides the inspiring views? Laundry/valet servicesA fitness centerRecreation activities 6. Where can tourists try the local cuisine? At Valley View Camping GroundIn ChisomIn a bungalow Comprehension Quiz Answers 1. What type of tourist is described at the beginning of the reading? ANSWER: A tourist who has traveled a lot 2. The camping grounds overlook: ANSWER: An area between mountains 3. What type of accommodation can you not bring with you? ANSWER: A bungalow 4. Who cooks dinner? ANSWER: The guests 5. What does Valley View offer besides the inspiring views? ANSWER: Recreation activities 6. Where can tourists try the local cuisine? ANSWER: In Chisom

Networks and The Tokugawa Period Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1250 words

Networks and The Tokugawa Period - Essay Example This put the Japanese society at the same development level with the European societies of that time. Although the governance in Japan then was full of corruption, inequality and lack of justice, Iceman argues that the network revolution that came during this time led to the improved forms of transport and communication improving trade and economic activities of the area. It also improved freedom and general interaction between people from different backgrounds bringing about unity. Depicting evidence from the books â€Å"Proving the Way conflict and practice in the history of Japanese Nativism†, by Mark McNally and â€Å"Bonds of Civility Aesthetic Networks and the Political Origins of Japanese Culture†, by Eiko Ikegami we discover that one of the networks important to the Tokugawa people was the aesthetic horizantal network. This aesthetic horizontal network culminated from the fields of art and also in the political world in the Tokugawa era. These horizontal network s were associated with seated arts (Za), Linked Verse (renga). For example, linked verse events, occasions and ceremonies were carried out in the shade of cherry blossoms (hana no moto renga). This gatherings were considered sacred and and therefore were linked with their higher deities. Another important network was the vertical networks which were in harmony with the belief of muen. This allowed people who had different social standings in the Japanese society or individuals from varying social classes to gather together and partake in poetry sessions with no special treatment being offered to anyone. Another good example of these vertical networks was the popularity of the wild, unbounded and radical dancing that was practiced by these Japanese people which were orchestrated by sanctified madness known as (Kuruu). This dancing through vertical networks had spread through the Japanese community due to the vertical networks.In 1603, Tokugawa defeated his adversaries and he started an empire which prolonged till 1868. Over 260 years, peace has prevailed in japan, whereby lhe started Edo, which marked the beginning of Kanto. Tokugawa regime reigned supreme via complex unions having 250 lords, some closely related to Tokugawa. Each retained its own cities and as a rule, some cities maintained a high caliber, of socio-economic and heritage autonomy. In town areas, various cultures and trends sprung up such as sumo wrestling, geisha entertainers, and karate and kabuki drama that all originated from urbanization hence making the japan towns to be at an advantage over the Europeans in development, but still yet japan were short of political prowess in accordance to their socio-economic and heritage gains. Within the horizontal and vertical networks people practiced poetry, theatre, painting, Ikebana, tea making, Bonsai, poetry in form of Joruri, calligraphy and music. During this period, their practices were lesser subjected to beliefs and religion. Their practices were not based on their religion and their belief in spirit sand magic as it was with their predecessors. In the Tokugawa aesthetic network they practiced a lot of arts. Artists began to commercialize their practice whereby they sharpened their skills and began to make money out of their works. This was due to the commercialization of various activities during this period. Tokugawa social dynasties and social quo started

Managing teams effectively Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1000 words - 1

Managing teams effectively - Essay Example Hence, team leadership essentially involves the talent and the ability to deal with all forms of members in a team, be it the slackers or an obstructionist. As per the existing knowledge and theories of team management, the best way to deal with a slacker or an obstructionist is to follow a mixed approach, which aims at confronting the inherent propensities of such people, to bring them out into the open, while accompanied by soft tactics like acknowledging one’s best qualities and by motivating one to contribute to team effort (Holpp, 1998). Such a hot and cold approach towards the personality types under consideration is bound to yield the desired results, because of its moderation and versatility (Holpp, 1998). A slacker shirks responsibility or work does not mean that one is devoid of talent, skills, insight or aptitude. So, simply speaking, a slacker stands to be a potential asset for a team if somehow one figures out a way to make one work (Holpp, 1988). Usually a slacker tends to avoid or by pass responsibility because one has a perception that the other team members are not consciously aware of one’s tactics of or predilection for doing so (Holpp, 1998). So the most effective way to disarm a slacker is to confront one and make one realize that the others are well cognizant of one’s talent for shirking work. However, confrontation here does not connote to aggressive or brazen interactions. In fact it means making a slacker realize that in a friendly and decent way, while giving one a chance to save face. A slacker is a talented person who cheats on work, and once one realizes that others are well aware of one’s propensity to cheat, one will certainly avoid repeatin g such a behavior, at least conspicuously (Holpp, 1998). Bringing things out into the open should be accompanied by meaningful soft strategies like defining the job responsibility of a slacker, appreciating one for one’s abilities and the immense