Free Essays on Descartes Examination Of A Thinking Soul

in order to give proper, important response to questions and whether it can take part in a fierceness of suitable, discerning exercises (CR, pp.34-35). Here, notwithstanding, Descartes goes above and beyond as he devic... Free Essays on Descartes Examination Of A Thinking Soul Free Essays on Descartes Examination Of A Thinking Soul Descartes’ Examination of a Thinking Soul So as to genuinely comprehend the idea of the human brain as asked in the course prospectus one must have the option to characterize a reasoning individual, something that Descartes endeavors and prevails with regards to accomplishing. In his Letter to the Marquess of Newcastle, Descartes rejects others’ conviction that creatures have thinking or considerations and gadgets a kind of test dependent on a characterizing normal for a reasoning psyche that he accepts can effectively isolate the speculation from the non-thinking. Descartes completely looks for a distinctive component that isolates a creature mind from a human brain and arrives at the resolution that a â€Å"external action†, all the more explicitly the limit with respect to phonetic action is the distinction. As indicated by Descartes, characterizing a reasoning animal is eventually chosen by the â€Å"external action† of semantic ability; in any case, Descartes verifies that activities that are pointless, for instance, are excluded. In this entry, Descartes’ thought of â€Å"external actions† isn't just the capacity to eat, talk or walk (clarified further later) but instead an increasingly unpredictable activity that acquires progressively complex considerations: the limit with respect to semantic movement. Notwithstanding, Descartes doesn't just characterize phonetic action as talking however as â€Å"†¦words, or different signs that are applicable to specific subjects without communicating any passion† (â€Å"Letter to the Marquess of Newcastle,† CR, p. 36). In Descartes’ Discourse on the Method of Rightly Conducting One’s Reason and Seeking the Truth n the Sciences, he initially recommends a test to check whether there is a partiti on of body and brain which incorporates such things as though the applicant can react verbally, produce various game plans of words to give suitable, significant response to questions and whether it can participate in a fierceness of proper, judicious exercises (CR, pp.34-35). Here, in any case, Descartes goes above and beyond as he devic...

Globalization as the Integration of the Interaction between Nations Essay

Globalization as the Integration of the Interaction between Nations - Essay Example This exposition investigates the variables that lead to globalization. As a supervisor of any firm, the principle destinations are to amplify benefits and limit the expenses. The expenses can be limited by searching for modest work power and proximity to crude materials. An organization in Asia may choose to set up another firm or move the underlying firm in Asia to another nation with modest work. Furthermore, the firm can likewise move because of proximity to the crude material. All the more in this way, the market can likewise impact globalization. A nation may move its creation firm to another nation focusing on specific people in that nation. Poor nations empower outside speculators with the goal that they can profit by the charges imposed on them. Consequently, unmistakably additionally the monetary status of a nation is a key factor to expanding globalization. There are, be that as it may, negative marks and merits of globalization in business. Consequently, this paper will in general clarify the preferences and hindrances of globalization in business. Right off the bat, globalization is helpful to numerous individuals. As examined before on, an individual can move from his working office in Mexico to another nation only for lunch. Consequently, the utility of this individual is fulfilled. This individual will feel fulfilled since they got what they needed in this manner inferred fulfillment. Furthermore, the individual may have utilized either an open or a personal jet. In the manner, work is made for the pilot flying this person for lunch. All the more along these lines, the café likewise gets a few installments in remuneration for what this individual will expend. Assume an individual sets a firm in another nation, what might occur? Right off the bat, the state will get cash as duty by the outside financial specialists. Besides, the region around the set firm will be created by these remote speculators. The state of the street will likewise improve, and water and power would be made accessible and reasonable to the pioneers around the firm. Moreover, people will get utilized.

On the Scattering of Senior House

On the Scattering of Senior House There’s been a decent amount of turbulence in the past couple of months here, and given the recent decisions regarding Senior House, I want to say some things. As a prefrosh, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted when it came to housing. I didn’t go to CPW, I didn’t look around at dorms when I came up here for an overnight visit, and I didn’t know that “dorm culture” was a thing. I wasn’t (and still am not) in any MIT 2020 group chats or Facebook groups, and I didn’t even know any other freshmen that were going here. My first look into the dorms was the i3 videos. These are resident-produced videos that showcase the culture of each dorm. They are released at the end of May for the incoming freshmen to decide which dorm they think they’d best fit in. Ill admit that a few of the videos gave me secondhand embarrassment in a matter of seconds; I had to go back to those at a later time with more of an open mind. After delving into some websites and blogs on this very site, I started really liking the free-spiritedness of the dorms on the east side of campusâ€"Senior House, East Campus, and Random. I ranked Senior House as my first choice in the housing lottery form after looking through some photo galleries on their old website. There was something about the vibe of the pictures that really grabbed me. One of them was just some guys sitting on stairs. It was beautiful in a way that I can’t really explain. Anyway, I just felt drawn to the dorm. The next few rankings were taken up by dorms about which I had no strong feelings, but wouldn’t mind living in. On June 10, 2016, incoming freshmen in the class of 2020 were informed that they would not be allowed to live in Senior House in the fall, as new data concerning graduation rates indicated that only 60 percent of students living in Senior House in their first term at MIT graduated within four years. In addition, the linked article pointed to “concerns of illegal drug use” in the dorm. We were given five extra days to revise our dorm rankings. I learned through the admissions blogs that several  people were unhappy with this decision. I freaked out a bit that day. I began to wonder if I would have been in the 40 percent or the 60 percent. I thought about then-current residents having to explain to their parents why their dorm had “drug issues” or looked “stupid” compared to the others. I felt sympathetic to this community that I wasn’t even a part of and knew admittedly little about, but I assumed that if the administration decided to punish the whole dorm, the problems must have been really bad. In any case, I got the impression that Senior House was a failing dorm (it isn’t) and that it was a good thing that I didn’t fall into its trap (because it would be the dorm’s fault if I didn’t do so well) or else I might have not graduated on time (as if that’s some cardinal sin). I reconfigured my rankings, pushing the Haus to the bottom of the list. I picked MacGregor as my new number 1 for the wrong reasonsâ€"I thought the single rooms and somewhat vanilla culture would keep me from being distracted. In addition, MacGregor historically is not a top choice in the freshman housing lottery, and I liked that I was basically guaranteed to live there in the fall, no wildcards. I ranked Spanish House number 2 and actually did a phone interview with them. (Funny enough, they’re in MacGregor in the fall anyway while New House undergoes renovations.) I landed in F entry, and I like it here. The people here are supportive and generally allow others to just be themselves without looking down on them for not fitting some kind of cultural mold. With respect to the various cultures of the entries, vanilla doesn’t mean flavorless, but instead a pretty good base to add any kind of toppings to. A fairly common story here is that while MacGregor wasn’t the top choice, i t also wasn’t the wrong one. I began to recognize that the harmless humor, absurdity, and general nonsense that is appreciated here is exactly the kind of environment that I enjoy living in. And I’ve even started to make my mark on the walls. I would no doubt have had a different experience had I lived in Senior House, but I’m of the opinion that across dorms this experience generally converges on “I realized that I can just be me and do things that I do.” Still, having found a home, I can’t help but now worry about those who have just lost theirs. I’m concerned that the aftershocks of the Senior House decision will lead to continued disagreements and heightened tensions between the student body and the administration. I’m concerned that these events will negatively impact Senior House undergrads, and that resulting data will be construed to corroborate the idea that something is innately wrong with Senior House. I’m concerned that we may never be able to respond to surveys truthfully without fear of losing anonymity or otherwise painting our living groups in a negative light. I’m concerned that Senior House culture will die out with its last graduating class à la Bexley. Mostly, I’m concerned that this newfound hardline “but look at the data” mindset will proliferate as a way of making decisions for the community in the future. A significant number of people  (note: these articles are by no means the views of everyone at MIT or even myself for that matter) have called attention to the various factors that may have led to the lower four-year graduation rates of those Senior House residents (higher percentage of underrepresented minorities and LGBTQ students, more first generation and low-income students, etc.). I’m not qualified to speak about any alleged drug use in the dorm as I have never lived there. However, when one reads the releases and statements from the Chancellor’s office, there seems to be some indication that the alleged drug use within Senior House is to blame for their “problems” rather than being just another symptom of the need for new and better kinds of support. I doubt that scattering all of the residents across campus is the cure. Additionally, I feel that the decision to incentivize juniors and seniors moving to graduate residences  is bad for the incoming first years, many of whom have been finding out about the situation online. (I apologize on behalf of bloggers for not writing about this sooner.) Though this is an easy way to alleviate dorm overcrowding this year, I worry that there may be some units within dorms with little to no upperclassmen. Thoroughly mixed-year dorms are a hallmark of the MIT undergrad experience and act as support structures for first years. At the end of the day, the people that have been displaced as a result of this decision are more than data points. The handful of Senior House residents with whom I’ve interacted in my short time here stick out to me as being more honest than the average person. The events that they host (of the small sample that I have attended) seem no more dangerous than a typical frat party, and with much better music. Senior House was the first place that I witnessed someone pull a stumbling stranger off a dancefloor to sit down and talk with him after someone expressed concern that he might not be okay. Others have shared similar anecdotes. This is how Senior House should be remembered, not as a scary place full of junkies and dropouts. Despite its soon-to-be-blank walls and name change to 70 Amherst Street, this cohort of the community will remember its vibrant murals and continue to call it Senior House. As I read what I’ve written so far, I’m reminded how this is a very Only At MIT story. I’m proud to go to a school where even in the summertime undergrads, grad students, and alumni put up a united front against decisions that they disagree with. It means a lot that we are so attached to the culture of living groups that we protest and negotiate with the administration. It even says a lot about this very same administration that we expect our input to be taken into consideration in these matters. In this vein of unity and community, I speak for my dorm (and likely others) when I promise that there are plenty of Haus supporters here who will try our best to accommodate displaced Senior House residents. Post Tagged #MacGregor House #Senior Haus #Senior House

Chemistry Study Guide for Gases

Human Trafficking And The Modern Day Slavery Essay

Introduction This research paper is to discuss the provocative issue global issue in the field of criminal justice, and is known as the modern day slavery. This paper will also discuss the globalization in human trafficking. The study examines the impact of economic globalization on the human trafficking inflows around the world. This paper will begin by providing the definition of what human trafficking and globalization is, and how it works within the context of law enforcement. The history of human trafficking and how human trafficking is effecting societies across the world. This paper will examine supply and demand of human trafficking. Furthermore, this paper will show the incentives underlying trafficking in human trafficking. A summary of human trafficking will demonstrate how societies’ economy across the world is benefiting from this multimillion dollar business. Human Trafficking Globalization Defined Human trafficking is defined as, â€Å"organized criminal activity in which human beings are treated as possessions to be controlled and exploited (as by being forced into prostitution or involuntary labor)† by Merriam-Webster Dictionary. The word human trafficking first know use started in 1988. Human trafficking is considered to be the crime that violates human rights. Inalienable rights are what many considers to be human rights; usually these are right that can not be taken away or transmitted. A person can be recruited, transported, transferred, harbored orShow MoreRelatedModern Day Slavery: Human Trafficking 866 Words   |  4 PagesBlood Borne Connections.) Human trafficking is the modern day slavery, it involves taking control over a person through force, fraud or coercion to exploit the victim for forced labor, sexual exploitation. or both (â€Å"What† par.1). This is become the sad reality for many, approximately three out of every 1,000 people worldwide ar e being forced into this such slavery. Victims of human trafficking are people of all backgrounds and ages, no one is safe from the dirty hands of human traffickers. Every yearRead MoreHuman Trafficking : Modern Day Slavery1244 Words   |  5 Pages Human trafficking Around the world human trafficking happens around us without us noticing or realising what is happening. Modern-day slavery exists around the world and it is known today as human trafficking or trafficking in persons. So, what is human trafficking and why don t many people seek for help or go to athoughty ? Well human trafficking is modern-day slavery and involves the use of force, fraud, or coercion to obtain some type of labor or commercial sex act. Every year millionsRead MoreHuman Trafficking And Modern Day Slavery Essay1390 Words   |  6 PagesHuman Trafficking There is an ever growing problem that is coursing the world. Every day 3,287 people are sold or kidnapped, and are forced into slavery. (Human Trafficking Statistics Reports 2012) Most people do not realize that modern-day slavery happens closer to home than they think. 14,000-17,500 is the estimated number of people trafficked into the United States each year. (Human Trafficking Statistics Reports 2012) The government has tried to reduce this problem as well as everyday peopleRead MoreHuman Trafficking : Modern Day Slavery1604 Words   |  7 PagesHuman Trafficking One of the most serious crimes worldwide, human trafficking is the buying, selling, and transportation of people for the use of sexual exploitation, forced labor, or organ removal. â€Å"Human trafficking is modern-day slavery and involves the use of force, fraud, or coercion to obtain some type of labor or commercial sex act.† (What is human trafficking Homeland) It happens in the United States and foreign countries. Many people do not see it happening, but in fact it is happeningRead MoreHuman Trafficking : Modern Day Slavery1531 Words   |  7 PagesHuman trafficking is modern day slavery that occurs with both genders of all ages. Human trafficking occurs mostly in poorer countries like Asia, and Eastern Europe and isn t solely sexual slavery; the victims can be used for labor purposes also. Organizations like Shared Hope International and Coalition Against Trafficking in Women fight to rescue the victims of human trafficking. These organizations spread the dangers of hum an trafficking through education and public awareness. Often times traffickingRead MoreHuman Trafficking : Modern Day Slavery1228 Words   |  5 Pages Around the world human trafficking happens around us without us noticing or realising what is happening. Modern-day slavery exists around the world and it is known today as human trafficking or trafficking in persons. So, what is human trafficking and why don t many people seek for help or go to athoughty ? Well human trafficking is modern-day slavery and involves the use of force, fraud, or coercion to obtain some type of labor or commercial sex act. Every year millions of men and woman andRead MoreHuman Trafficking : A Modern Day Slavery961 Words   |  4 PagesEnglish IV Nov. 23 2015 How to Stop Trafficking Women are not the only ones being sold today. Man are not the only ones selling humans today. All different kinds of humans are being sold in something called human trafficking. Human trafficking has become a problem worldwide and is effecting all people male, female, children, LGBT. There are many solutions, one of them is to educate the children at a younger age. Human trafficking is like a modern day slavery. The people being sold are forced inRead MoreHuman Trafficking : Modern Day Slavery1732 Words   |  7 PagesHaley Gooding Mrs. Gallos English 3 Honors 6 April 2017 Human Trafficking One of the most serious crimes worldwide, human trafficking is the buying, selling, and transportation of people for the use of sexual exploitation, forced labor, or organ removal. â€Å"Human trafficking is modern-day slavery and involves the use of force, fraud, or coercion to obtain some type of labor or commercial sex act.† (What is human trafficking Homeland) It happens in the United States and foreign countries. Many peopleRead MoreHuman Trafficking : Modern Day Slavery1210 Words   |  5 PagesHuman Trafficking Imagine being able to own a business and make nothing but profit. One of the types of trafficking is Labor Trafficking, which helps keep prices cheaper by having cheap workers. If companies do not have people working in factories for very little then a lot of prices would go up crazy like on clothing and furniture. A lot of countries economy are built off sex trafficking which helps the economy significantly. The ongoing â€Å"phenomenon† of human trafficking is not a problemRead MoreHuman Trafficking : Modern Day Slavery Essay1389 Words   |  6 PagesPedraza Human Trafficking Human Trafficking Defined Human Trafficking is â€Å"modern day slavery and involves the use of force, fraud, or coercion to obtain some type of labor or commercial sex act† as defined by the Department of Homeland Security. It is largely unrecognized although it is one of the fastest growing criminal industries. It traffics children, teenagers, and adults. Human Trafficking comes second to drug dealing. There is human trafficking for sexual exploitation, trafficking of organ

Streams of Silver 2. City of Sails Free Essays

string(61) " him and his stern gaze boring into the impudent gatekeeper\." â€Å"Well, there she is, lad, the City of Sails,† Bruenor said to Wulfgar as the two looked down upon Luskan from a small knoll a few miles north of the city. Wulfgar took in the view with a profound sigh of admiration. Luskan housed more than fifteen thousand – small compared to the huge cities in the south and to its nearest neighbor, Waterdeep, a few hundred miles farther down the coast. We will write a custom essay sample on Streams of Silver 2. City of Sails or any similar topic only for you Order Now But to the young barbarian, who had spent all of his eighteen years among nomadic tribes and the small villages of Ten-Towns, the fortified seaport seemed grand indeed. A wall encompassed Luskan, with guard towers strategically spaced at varying intervals. Even from this distance, Wulfgar could make out the dark forms of many soldiers pacing the parapets, their spear tips shining in the new light of the day. â€Å"Not a promising invitation,† Wulfgar noted. â€Å"Luskan does not readily welcome visitors,† said Drizzt, who had come up behind his two friends. â€Å"They may open their gates for merchants, but ordinary travelers are usually turned away.† â€Å"Our first contact is there,† growled Bruenor. â€Å"And I mean to get in!† Drizzt nodded and did not press the argument. He had given Luskan a wide berth on his original journey to Ten-Towns. The city’s inhabitants, primarily human, looked upon other races with disdain. Even surface elves and dwarves were often refused entry. Drizzt suspected that the guards would do more to a drow elf than simply put him out. â€Å"Get the breakfast fire burning,† Bruenor continued, his angry tones reflecting his determination that nothing would turn him from his course. â€Å"We’re to break camp early, an’ make the gates ‘fore noon. Where’s that blasted Rumblebelly?† Drizzt looked back over his shoulder in the direction of the camp. â€Å"Asleep,† he answered, though Bruenor’s question was wholly rhetorical. Regis had been the first to bed and the last to awaken (and never without help) every day since the companions had set out from Ten-Towns. â€Å"Well, give him a kick!† Bruenor ordered. He turned back to the camp, but Drizzt put a hand on his arm to stay him. â€Å"Let the halfling sleep,† the drow suggested. â€Å"Perhaps it would be better if we came to Luskan’s gate in the less-revealing light of dusk.† Drizzt’s request confused Bruenor for just a moment – until he looked more closely at the drow’s sullen visage and recognized the trepidation in his eyes. The two had become so close in their years of friendship that Bruenor often forgot that Drizzt was an outcast. The farther they traveled from Ten-Towns, where Drizzt was known, the more he would be judged by the color of his skin and the reputation of his people. â€Å"Aye, let ‘im sleep,† Bruenor conceded. â€Å"Maybe I could use a bit more, meself!† They broke camp late that morning and set a leisurely pace, only to discover later that they had misjudged the distance to the city. It was well past sunset and into the early hours of darkness when they finally arrived at the city’s north gate. The structure was as unwelcoming as Luskan’s reputation: a single iron-bound door set into the stone wall between two short, squared towers was tightly shut before them. A dozen fur-capped heads poked out from the parapet above the gate and the companions sensed many more eyes, and probably bows, trained upon them from the darkness atop the towers. â€Å"Who are you who come to the gates of Luskan?† came a voice from the wall. â€Å"Travelers from the north,† answered Bruenor. â€Å"A weary band come all the way from Ten-Towns in Icewind Dale!† â€Å"The gate closed at sunset,† replied the voice. â€Å"Go away!† â€Å"Son of a hairless gnoll,† grumbled Bruenor under his breath. He slapped his axe across his hands as though he meant to chop the door down. Drizzt put a calming hand on the dwarf’s shoulder, his own sensitive ears recognizing the clear, distinctive click of a crossbow crank. Then Regis unexpectedly took control of the situation. He straightened his pants, which had dropped below the bulge of his belly, and hooked his thumbs in his belt, trying to appear somewhat important. Throwing his shoulders back, he walked out in front of his companions. â€Å"Your name, good sir?† he called to the soldier on the wall. â€Å"I am the Nightkeeper of the North Gate. That is all you need to know!† came the gruff reply. â€Å"And who – â€Å" â€Å"Regis, First Citizen of Bryn Shander. No doubt you have heard my name or seen my carvings.† The companions heard whispers up above, then a pause. â€Å"We have viewed the scrimshaw of a halfling from Ten-Towns. Are you he?† â€Å"Hero of the goblin war and master scrimshander,† Regis declared, bowing low. â€Å"The spokesmen of Ten-Towns will not be pleased to learn that I was turned into the night at the gate of our favored trading partner.† Again came the whispers, then a longer silence. Presently the four heard a grating sound behind the door, a portcullis being raised, knew Regis, and then the banging of the door’s bolts being thrown. The halfling looked back over his shoulder at his surprised friends and smiled wryly. â€Å"Diplomacy, my rough dwarven friend,† he laughed. The door opened just a crack and two men slipped out, unarmed but cautious. It was quite obvious that they were well protected from the wall. Grim-faced soldiers huddled along the parapets, monitoring every move the strangers made through the sights of crossbows. â€Å"I am Jierdan,† said the stockier of the two men, though it was difficult to judge his exact size because of the many layers of fur he wore. â€Å"And I am the Nightkeeper,† said the other. â€Å"Show me what you have brought to trade.† â€Å"Trade?† echoed Bruenor angrily. â€Å"Who said anything about trade?† He slapped his axe across his hands again, drawing nervous shufflings from above. â€Å"Does this look like the blade of a stinkin’ merchant?† Regis and Drizzt both moved to calm the dwarf, though Wulfgar, as tense as Bruenor, stayed off to the side, his huge arms crossed before him and his stern gaze boring into the impudent gatekeeper. You read "Streams of Silver 2. City of Sails" in category "Essay examples" The two soldiers backed away defensively and the Nightkeeper spoke again, this time on the edge of fury. â€Å"First Citizen,† he demanded of Regis, â€Å"why do you come to our door?† Regis stepped in front of Bruenor and steadied himself squarely before the soldier. â€Å"Er†¦a preliminary scouting of the marketplace,† he blurted out, trying to fabricate a story as he went along. â€Å"I have some especially fine carvings for market this season and I wanted to be certain that everything on this end, including the paying price for scrimshaw, shall be in place to handle the sale.† The two soldiers exchanged knowing smiles. â€Å"You have come a long way for such a purpose,† the Nightkeeper whispered harshly. â€Å"Would you not have been better suited to simply come down with the caravan bearing the goods?† Regis squirmed uncomfortably, realizing that these soldiers were far too experienced to fall for his ploy. Fighting his better judgement, he reached under his shirt for the ruby pendant, knowing that its hypnotic powers could convince the Nightkeeper to let them through, but dreading showing the stone at all and further opening the trail for the assassin that he knew wasn’t far behind. Jierdan started suddenly, however, as he noticed the figure standing beside Bruenor. Drizzt Do’Urden’s cloak had shifted slightly, revealing the black skin of his face. As if on cue, the Nightkeeper tensed as well and, following his companion’s lead, quickly discerned the cause of Jierdan’s sudden reaction. Reluctantly, the four adventurers dropped their hands to their weapons, ready for a fight they didn’t want. But Jierdan ended the tension as quickly as he had begun it, by bringing his arm across the chest of the Nightkeeper and addressing the drow openly. â€Å"Drizzt Do’Urden?† he asked calmly, seeing confirmation of the identity he had already guessed. The drow nodded, surprised at the recognition. â€Å"Your name, too, has come down to Luskan with the tales frown Icewind Dale,† Jierdan explained. â€Å"Pardon our, surprise.† He bowed low. â€Å"We do not see many of your race at our gates.† Drizzt nodded again, but did not answer, uncomfortable with this unusual attention. Never before had a gatekeeper bothered to ask him his name or his business. And the drow had quickly come to understand the advantage of avoiding gates altogether, silently slipping over a city’s wall in the darkness and seeking the seedier side, where he might at least have a chance of standing unnoticed in the dark corners with the other rogues. Had his name and heroics brought him a measure of respect even this far from Ten-Towns? Bruenor turned to Drizzt and winked, his own anger dissipated by the fact that his friend had finally been given his due from a stranger. But Drizzt wasn’t convinced. He didn’t dare hope for such a thing – it left him too vulnerable to feelings that he had fought hard to hide. He preferred to keep his suspicions and his guard as close to him as the dark cowl of his cloak. He cocked a curious ear as the two soldiers backed away to hold a private conversation. â€Å"I care not of his name,† he heard the Nightkeeper whisper at Jierdan. â€Å"No drow elf shall pass my gate!† â€Å"You err,† Jierdan retorted. â€Å"These are the heroes of Ten-Towns. The halfling is truly First Citizen of Bryn Shander, the drow a ranger with a deadly, but undeniably honorable, reputation, and the dwarf – note the foaming mug standard on his shield – is Bruenor Battlehammer, leader of his clan in the dale.† â€Å"And what of the giant barbarian?† asked the Nightkeeper, using a sarcastic tone in an attempt to sound unimpressed, though he was obviously a bit nervous. â€Å"What rogue might he be?† Jierdan shrugged. â€Å"His great size, his youth, and a measure of control beyond his years. It seems unlikely to me that he should be here, but he might be the young king of the tribes that the tale-tellers have spoken of. We should not turn these travelers away; the consequences may be grave.† â€Å"What could Luskan possibly fear from the puny settlements in Icewind Dale?† the Nightkeeper balked. â€Å"There are other trading ports,† Jierdan retorted. â€Å"Not every battle is fought with a sword. The loss of Ten-Towns’ scrimshaw would not be viewed favorably by our merchants, nor by the trading ships that put in each season.† The Nightkeeper scrutinized the four strangers again. He didn’t trust them at all, despite his companion’s grand claims, and he didn’t want them in his city. But he knew, too, that if his suspicions were wrong and he did something to jeopardize the scrimshaw trade, his own future would be bleak. The soldiers of Luskan answered to the merchants, who were not quick to forgive errors that thinned their purses. The Nightkeeper threw up his hands in defeat. â€Å"Go in, then,† he told the companions. â€Å"Keep to the wall and make your way down to the docks. The last lane holds the Cutlass, and you’ll be warm enough there!† Drizzt studied the proud strides of his friends as they marched through the door, and he guessed that they had also overheard pieces of the conversation. Bruenor confirmed his suspicions when they had moved away from the guard towers, down the road along the wall. â€Å"Here, elf,† the dwarf snorted, nudging Drizzt and being obviously pleased. â€Å"So the word’s gone beyond the dale and we’re heared of even this far south. What have ye to say o’ that?† Drizzt shrugged again and Bruenor chuckled, assuming that his friend was merely embarrassed by the fame. Regis and Wulfgar, too, shared in Bruenor’s mirth, the big man giving the drow a good-hearted slap on the back as he slipped to the lead of the troupe. But Drizzt’s discomfort stemmed from more than embarrassment. He had noted the grin on Jierdan’s face as they had passed, a smile that went beyond admiration. And while he had no doubts that some tales of the battle with Akar Kessell’s goblin army had reached the City of Sails, it struck Drizzt odd that a simple soldier knew so much about him and his friends, while the gatekeeper, solely responsible for determining who passed into the city, knew nothing. Luskan’s streets were tightly packed with two – and three-story buildings, a reflection of the desperation of the people there to huddle within the safety of the city’s high wall, away from the ever-present dangers of the savage northland. An occasional tower, a guard post, perhaps, or a prominent citizen’s or guild’s way to show superiority, sprouted from the roofline. A wary city, Luskan survived, even flourished, in the dangerous frontier by holding fast to an attitude of alertness that often slipped over the line into paranoia. It was a city of shadows, and the four visitors this night keenly felt the curious and dangerous stares peeking out from every darkened hole as they made their way. The docks harbored the roughest section of the city, where thieves, outlaws, and beggars abounded in their narrow alleys and shadowed crannies. A perpetual ground fog wafted in from the sea, blurring the already dim avenues into even more mysterious pathways. Such was the lane the four friends found themselves turning down, the last lane before the piers themselves, a particularly decrepit run called Half-Moon Street. Regis, Drizzt, and Bruenor knew immediately that they had entered a collecting ground for vagabonds and ruffians, and each put a hand to his weapon. Wulfgar walked openly and without fear, although he, too, sensed the threatening atmosphere. Not understanding that the area was atypically foul, he was determined to approach his first experience with civilization with an open mind. â€Å"There’s the place,† said Bruenor, indicating a small group, probably thieves, congregating before the doorway of a tavern. The weatherbeaten sign above the door named the place the Cutlass. Regis swallowed hard, a frightening mixture of emotions welling within him. In his early days as a thief in Calimport, he had frequented many places like this, but his familiarity with the environment only added to his apprehension. The forbidden allure of business done in the shadows of a dangerous tavern, he knew, could be as deadly as the hidden knives of the rogues at every table. â€Å"You truly want to go in there?† he asked his friends squeamishly. â€Å"No arguing from ye!† Bruenor snapped back. â€Å"Ye knew the road ahead when ye joined us in the dale. Don’t ye be whining now!† â€Å"You are well guarded,† Drizzt put in to comfort Regis. Overly proud in his inexperience, Wulfgar pressed the statement even further. â€Å"What cause would they have to do us harm? Surely we have done no wrong,† he demanded. Then he proclaimed loudly to challenge the shadows, â€Å"Fear not, little friend. My hammer shall sweep aside any who stand against us!† â€Å"The pride o’ youth,† Bruenor grumbled as he, Regis, and Drizzt exchanged incredulous looks. The atmosphere inside the Cutlass was in accord with the decay and rabble that marked the place outside. The tavern portion of the building was a single open room, with a long bar defensively positioned in the corner of the rear wall, directly across from the door. A staircase rose up from the side of the bar to the structure’s second level, a staircase more often used by painted, overperfumed women and their latest companions than by guests of the inn. Indeed, merchant sailors who put into Luskan usually came ashore only for brief periods of excitement and entertainment, returning to the safety of their vessels if they could manage it before the inevitable drunken sleep left them vulnerable. More than anything else, though, the tavern at the Cutlass was a room of the senses, with myriad sounds and sights and smells. The aroma of alcohol, from strong ale and cheap wine to rarer and more powerful beverages, permeated every corner. A haze of smoke from exotic pipe-weeds, like the mist outside, blurred the harsh reality of the images into softer, dreamlike sensations. Drizzt led the way to an empty table tucked beside the door, while Bruenor approached the bar to make arrangements for their stay. Wulfgar started after the dwarf, but Drizzt stopped him. â€Å"To the table,† he explained. â€Å"You are too excited for such business; Bruenor can take care of it.† Wulfgar started to protest, but was cut short. â€Å"Come on,† Regis offered. â€Å"Sit with Drizzt and me. No one will bother a tough old dwarf, but a tiny halfling and a skinny elf might look like good sport to the brutes in here. We need your size and strength to deter such unwanted attention.† Wulfgar’s chin firmed up at the compliment and he strode boldly toward the table. Regis shot Drizzt a knowing wink and turned to follow. â€Å"Many lessons you will learn on this journey, young friend,† Drizzt mumbled to Wulfgar, too softly for the barbarian to hear. â€Å"So far from your home.† Bruenor came back from the bar bearing four flagons of mead and grumbling under his breath. â€Å"We’re to get our business finished soon,† he said to Drizzt, â€Å"and get back on the road. The cost of a room in this orc-hole is open thievery!† â€Å"The rooms were not meant to be taken for a whole night,† Regis snickered. But Bruenor’s scowl remained. â€Å"Drink up,† he told the drow. â€Å"Rat Alley is but a short walk, by the tellin’s of the barmaid, and it might be that we can make contact yet this night.† Drizzt nodded and sipped the mead, not really wanting any of it, but hoping that a shared drink might relax the dwarf. The drow, too, was anxious to be gone from Luskan, fearful that his own identity – he kept his cowl pulled even tighter in the tavern’s flickering torchlight – might bring them more trouble. He worried further for Wulfgar, young and proud, and out of his element. The barbarians of Icewind Dale, though merciless in battle, were undeniably honorable, basing their society’s structure entirely on strict and unbending codes. Drizzt feared that Wulfgar would fall easy prey to the false images and treachery of the city. On the road in the wild lands Wulfgar’s hammer would keep him safe enough, but here he was likely to find himself in deceptive situations involving disguised blades, where his mighty weapon and battle-prowess offered little help. Wulfgar downed his flagon in a single gulp, wiped his lips with zeal, and stood. â€Å"Let us be going,† he said to Bruenor. â€Å"Who is it that we seek?† â€Å"Sit yerself back down and shut yer mouth, boy,† Bruenor scolded, glancing around to see if any unwanted attention had fallen upon them. â€Å"This night’s work is for me and the drow. No place for a too-big fighter like yerself! Ye stay here with Rumblebelly an’ keep yer mouth shut and yer back to the wall!† Wulfgar slumped back in humiliation, but Drizzt was glad that Bruenor seemed to have come to similar conclusions about the young warrior. Once again, Regis saved a measure of Wulfgar’s pride. â€Å"You are not leaving with them!† he snapped at the barbarian. â€Å"I have no desire to go, but I would not dare to remain here alone. Let Drizzt and Bruenor have their fun in some cold, smelly alley. We’ll stay here and enjoy a well-deserved evening of high entertainment!† Drizzt slapped Regis’s knee under the table in thanks and rose to leave. Bruenor quaffed his flagon and leaped from his chair. â€Å"Let’s be going, then,† he said to the drow. And then to Wulfgar, â€Å"Keep care of the halfling, and beware the women! They’re mean as starved rats, and the only thing they aim to bite at is your purse!† * * * Bruenor and Drizzt turned at the first empty alleyway beyond the Cutlass, the dwarf standing nervous guard at its entrance while Drizzt moved down a few steps into the darkness. Convinced that he was safely alone, Drizzt removed from his pouch a small onyx statuette, meticulously carved into the likeness of a hunting cat, and placed it on the ground before him. â€Å"Guenhwyvar,† he called softly. â€Å"Come, my shadow.† His beckon reached out across the planes, to the astral home of the entity of the panther. The great cat stirred from its sleep. Many months had passed since its master had called, and the cat was anxious to serve. Guenhwyvar leaped out across the fabric of the planes, following a flicker of light that could only be the calling of the drow. Then the cat was in the alley with Drizzt, alert at once in the unfamiliar surroundings. â€Å"We walk into a dangerous web, I fear,† Drizzt explained. â€Å"I need eyes where my own cannot go.† Without delay and without a sound, Guenhwyvar sprang to a pile of rubble, to a broken porch landing, and up to the rooftops. Satisfied, and feeling much more secure now, Drizzt slipped back to the street where Bruenor waited. â€Å"Well, where’s that blasted cat?† Bruenor asked, a hint of relief in his voice that Guenhwyvar was actually not with the drow. Most dwarves are suspicious of magic, other than the magical enchantments placed upon weapons, and Bruenor had no love for the panther. â€Å"Where we need him most,† was the drow’s answer. He started off down Half-Moon Street. â€Å"Fear not, mighty Bruenor, Guenhwyvar’s eyes are upon us, even if ours cannot return their protective gaze!† The dwarf glanced all around nervously, beads of sweat visible at the base of his horned helm. He had known Drizzt for several years, but had never gotten comfortable around the magical cat. Drizzt hid his smile under his cowl. Each lane, filled with piles of rubble and refuse, appeared the same, as they made their way along the docks. Bruenor eyed each shadowed niche with alert suspicion. His eyes were not as keen in the night as those of the drow, and if he had seen into the darkness as clearly as Drizzt, he might have clutched his axe handle even more tightly. But the dwarf and drow weren’t overly concerned. They were far from typical of the drunkards that usually stumbled into these parts at night, and not easy prey for thieves. The many notches on Bruenor’s axe and the sway of the two scimitars on the drow’s belt would serve as ample deterrent to most ruffians. In the maze of streets and alleyways, it took them a long while to find Rat Alley. Just off the piers, it ran parallel to the sea, seemingly impassable through the thick fog. Long, low warehouses lined both its sides, and broken crates and boxes cluttered the alley, reducing the already narrow passage in many places to single-file breadth. â€Å"Nice place to be walkin’ down on a gloomy night,† Bruenor stated flatly. â€Å"Are you certain that this is the lane?† Drizzt asked, equally unenthused about the area before them. â€Å"By the words o’ the merchant in Ten-Towns, if one’s alive that can get me the map, the one be Whisper. An’ the place to find Whisper is Rat Alley – always Rat Alley.† â€Å"Then on with it,† said Drizzt. â€Å"Foul business is best finished quickly.† Bruenor slowly led the way into the alley. The two had barely gone ten feet when the dwarf thought he heard the click of a crossbow. He stopped short and looked back at Drizzt. â€Å"They’re on us,† he whispered. â€Å"In the boarded window above and to the right of us,† Drizzt explained, his exceptional night vision and hearing having already discerned the sound’s source. â€Å"A precaution, I hope. Perhaps a good sign that your contact is close.† â€Å"Never called a crossbow aimed at me head a good sign!† argued the dwarf. â€Å"But on, then, and keep yerself at the ready. This place reeks of danger!† He started again through the rubble. A shuffle to their left told them that eyes were upon them from that way as well. But still they continued, understanding that they couldn’t have expected any different a scenario when they had started out from the Cutlass. Rounding a final mound of broken planks, they saw a slender figure leaning against one of the alleyway’s walls, cloak pulled tightly against the chill of the evening mist. Drizzt leaned over Bruenor’s shoulder. â€Å"May that be the one?† he whispered. The dwarf shrugged, and said, â€Å"Who else?† He took one more step forward, planted his feet firmly, wide apart, and addressed the figure. â€Å"I be looking for a man named Whisper,† he called. â€Å"Might that be yerself?† â€Å"Yes, and no,† came the reply. The figure turned toward them, though the low-pulled cloak revealed little. â€Å"What games do ye play?† Bruenor shot back. â€Å"Whisper I am,† replied the figure, letting the cloak slip back a little. â€Å"But for sure no man!† They could see clearly now that the figure addressing them was indeed a woman, a dark and mysterious figure with long black hair and deeply set, darting eyes that showed experience and a profound understanding of survival on the street. How to cite Streams of Silver 2. City of Sails, Essay examples

The Roswell Incident Essays - Roswell UFO Incident, Roswell

The Roswell Incident The Roswell Incident The Roswell Incident, which enlightened our minds to the capacity of excepting all, has remained one of the most controversial issues today. In Roswell, New Mexico, 1947, a strange occurrence arises. An alien craft from outer space crashed in an open field. The issue lay still for almost thirty years, until the thought of a government cover-up arose. Societys opinions have changed over the years. Previous to the 1990s, people have despised the thought of sharing the universe with other intelligent life forms. Now people are interested in this mysterious phenomenon. People think it is the blame of the movies and television. By watching this, people are at a level at which they understand. Not only do these movies entertain, they inform people about the little information we obtained from the government. The thought of government cover-ups have been long discussed. The government has always, in the past, tried to keep any sign of aliens, whether it be pictures from space, to crashes on earth, to a low or nonexistent level. Just recently has the government been harassed to the point where they actually gave us clues to alien existence. It has in some ways been believed that the government has worked in partnership with popular movie directors, to produce alien movies to ease the thought that we may not be alone. Such movies as The Arrival and the ever popular Independence Day are very good examples of well convincing alien movies. If this is true, they did a good job, because statistics state that 75% of people today believe that there is some kind of intelligent life forms besides ourselves in the universe. That is very convincing compared to the 20% whom believed 25 years ago. New opinions are always suspected, and usually opposed, without any other reason but because they are not already common. (MacGowan 261) A local New Mexico rancher, MacBrazel, while riding out in the morning to check his sheep after a long night of thunderstorms, discovered a considerable amount of debris. It created a gouge several hundred feet long and was scattered over a large area. Some of the debris had strange physical properties. He took some debris to show his neighbors then his son. Soon after that he notified the sheriff. The sheriff then contacted the authorities at Roswell Army Air Field Base. The are was closed off and the debris was eventually flown by B-29 and C-54 aircraft to Wright Field in Dayton, Ohio. A New York Daily News article says ...either conclusive proof extraterrestrials have indeed visited earth, or one of the most elaborate hoaxes ever perpetuated on the public..... (Dominquez). Besides the wreckage that was found, there were three objects which were highly debated about. Three bodies, two found dead, the other to die in a couple of weeks. Whether or not the bodies were actually found, is only determined by the few witnesses who claim to have seen the bodies. A few of these people turned out to be very highly respected military officers. Some people say that the bodies were human which have been exposed to the radiation. This radiation could have been caused, due to nuclear weapons that Roswell Army Air Base had been testing, since they were at the time the only squadron which had authorization to nuclear weapons. This theory was discounted by most, saying that this kind of deformation would have caused a human being to die before such damage could occur. Albert Einstein once said: ....I am convinced that, there is an absolute truth. If there cant be absolute truth, there cannot be a relative truth. (MacGowan 289) The government has been blamed with covering up this whole event. They have been claimed to have shipped off the wreckage to Dayton, Ohio, to avoid publicity. Which is normal, to prevent a worldwide panic. The bodies however, were not as lucky to have not become public, yet. The government has, and will always say that the wreckage found was a secret spy balloon. The people who have seen the wreckage, and believe that's what it was, describe it as a bundle of tinfoil, broken wood, beams , and rubber remnants of a balloon. Most discount this because, why would the government be messing around with balloons, if they were exploring the characteristics of jet fighters. Yes, the wreckage did seem like tin foil, at first, until you held the material, which if you bent, twisted, and did anything you dreamed up of, would still return to its original shape. They have tried to burn and