Related Text For Tom Brennan Essay Essay

By the Grace of God by Katy Perry is a song of heart break and determination , Katy herself is faced with the challenge of working though positive and negative experiences she has encountered through her divorce. These negative experiences that Katy faces are portrayed through a number of features some include the use of a depressing and Grey tones throughout the first two verses â€Å" thought i wasn’t enough â€Å" , â€Å" Couldn’t take it anymore†, â€Å" Running on empty so out of gas† This is one way Katy expresses her negative experience of heartache and pain, this also can refer to her depression. Another technique used to reveal her pain is the use of similes for example â€Å" locked up tight like iron mountain† Katy feels trapped and depressed and â€Å" when the truth was like swallowing sand† Katy feels as though she is better to just suffer than face the truth although Katy has faced all of these negative experiences she some how finds it in herself to make her own positive experiences in a similar way to Tom Brennan. For the rest of the song Katy is all about turning her negative experiences into positives. She is determined â€Å" to pick herself back up† and to fight through the pain and get back to her new/ normal life. This is when she leans to the spiritual/ religious side of things which is a strong theme throughout the rest of the song as it ends every chorus â€Å" By the Grace of God† These positive experiences of rebuilding and reflection are proclaimed through two main features the use of imagery and the repetition of lyrics. Types of imagery indicated in this song are religious imagery â€Å" By the grace of god ( There was no other way) this indicates to the audience that her faith was her last resort to help her turn her life. hopeful imagery â€Å" I picked myself back up â€Å" , â€Å" Decided to stay†, â€Å" I’m not giving up† This unveils to us that she is willing to leave the past behind and is ready to face the future. Imagery of Katy rebuilding her confidence is strong throughout the middle and end of this song this displays that her life is really heading in a positive direction and she is not going to let the negative things bring her down examples of this are â€Å" I could Finally see my self again† This is very similar the the quote In Tom Brennan â€Å"I could smile, ‘cause I could see that he was  coming back’.

The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove Chapter 4~5

Four Estelle Boyet As September's promise wound down, a strange unrest came over the people of Pine Cove, due in no small part to the fact that many of them were going into withdrawal from their medications. It didn't happen all at once – the streets were not full of middle-class junkies rocking and sweating and begging for a fix – but slowly as the autumn days became shorter. And as far as they knew (because Val Riordan had called every one of them), they were experiencing the onset of a mild seasonal syndrome, sort of like spring fever. Call it autumn malaise. The nature of the medications kept the symptoms spread out over the next few weeks. Prozac and some of the older antidepressants took almost a month to leave the system, so those people slipped into the fray more slowly than those on Zoloft or Paxil or Wellbutrin, which was flushed from the system in only a day or two, leaving the deprived with symptoms re-sembling a low-grade flu, then a scattered disorientation akin to a temporary case of attention deficit disorder, and, in some, a rebound of depression that dropped on them like a smoky curtain. One of the first to feel the effects was Estelle Boyet, a local artist, successful and semifamous for her seascapes and idealized paintings of Pine Cove shore life. Her prescription had run out a day before Dr. Val had replaced the supply with sugar pills, so she was already in the midst of withdrawal when she took the first dose of the placebo. Estelle was sixty, a stout, vital woman who wore brightly colored caftans and let her long gray hair fly around her shoulders as she moved through life with an energy and determination that inspired envy from women half her age. For thirty years she had been a teacher in the decaying and increas-ingly dangerous Los Angeles Unified School District, teaching eighth graders the difference between acrylics and oils, a brush and a pallet knife, Dali and Degas, and using her job and her marriage as a justification for never producing any art herself. She had married right out of art school: Joe Boyet, a promising young businessman, the only man she had ever loved and only the third she had ever slept with. When Joe had died eight years ago, she had nearly lost her mind. She tried to throw herself into her teaching, hoping that by inspiring the children she might find some reason to go on herself. In the face of the escalating violence in her school, she resigned herself to wearing a bullet-proof vest under her artist smocks and even brought in some paintball guns to try to gain the pupils' interest, but the latter only backfired into several incidents of drive-by abstract expressionism, and soon she received death threats for not allowing students to fashion crack pipes in ceramics class. Her students – children living in a hyperadult world where play-ground disputes were settled with 9 mms – eventually drove her out of teaching. Estelle lost her last reason to go on. The school psychologist re-ferred her to a psych iatrist, who put her on antidepressants and recommen-ded immediate retirement and relocation. Estelle moved to Pine Cove, where she began to paint and where she fell under the wing of Dr. Valerie Riordan. No wonder then that Estelle's painting had taken a dark turn over the last few weeks. She painted the ocean. Every day. Waves and spray, rocks and serpentine strands of kelp on the beach, otters and seals and pelicans and gulls. Her canvases sold in the local gal-leries as fast as she could paint them. But lately the inner light at the heart of her waves, titanium white and aquamarine, had taken on a dark shadow. Every beach scene spoke of desolation and dead fish. She dreamed of le-viathan shadows stalking her under the waves and she woke shivering and afraid. It was getting more difficult to get her paints and easel to the shore each day. The open ocean and the blank canvas were just too fright-ening. Joe is gone, she thought. I have no career and no friends and I produce nothing but kitschy seascapes as flat and soulless as a velvet Elvis. I'm afraid of everything. Val Riordan had called her, insisting that she come to a group therapy session for widows, but Estelle had said no. Instead, one evening, after finishing a tormented painting of a beached dolphin, she left her brushes to harden with acrylic and headed downtown – anywhere where she didn't have to look at this shit she'd been calling art. She ended up at the Head of the Slug Saloon – the first bar she'd set foot in since college. The Slug was full of Blues and smoke and people chasing shots and running from sadness. If they'd been dogs, they would have all been in the yard eating grass and trying to yak up whatever was making them feel so lousy. Not a bone gnawed, not a ball chased – all tails went unwagged. Oh, life is a fast cat, a short leash, a flea in that place where you just can't scratch. It was dog sad in there, and Catfish Jefferson was the designated howler. The moon was in his eye and he was singing up the sum of human suffering in A-minor, while he worked that bottleneck slide on the National guitar until it sounded like a slow wind through heartstrings. He was grinning. Of the hundred or so people in the Slug, half were experiencing some sort of withdrawal from their medications. There was a self-pity contingent at the bar, staring into their drinks and rocking back and forth to the Delta rhythms. At the tables, the more social of the de-pressed were whining and slurring their problems into each other's ears and occasionally trading hugs or curses. Over by the pool table stood the agitated and the aggressive, the people looking for someone to blame. These were mostly men, and Theophilus Crowe was keeping an eye on them from his spot at the bar. Since the death of Bess Leander, there had been a fight in the Slug almost every night. In addition, there were more pukers, more screamers, more criers, and more unwanted advances stifled with slaps. Theo had been very busy. So had Mavis Sand. Mavis was happy about it. Estelle came through the doors in her paint-spattered overalls and Shetland sweater, her hair pulled back in a long gray braid. Just inside, she paused as the music and the smoke washed over her. Some Mexican laborers were standing there in a group, drinking Budweisers, and one of them whistled at her. â€Å"I'm an old lady,† Estelle said. â€Å"Shame on you.† She pushed her way through the crowd to the bar and ordered a white wine. Mavis served it in a plastic beer cup. (She was serving everything in plastic lately. Evidently, the Blues made people want to break glass – on each other.) â€Å"Busy?† Estelle said, although she had nothing to compare it to. â€Å"The Blues sure packs 'em in,† Mavis said. â€Å"I don't much care for the Blues,† said Estelle. â€Å"I enjoy Classical music.† â€Å"Three bucks,† said Mavis. She took Estelle's money and moved to the other end of the bar. Estelle felt as if she'd been slapped in the face. â€Å"Don't mind Mavis,† a man's voice said. â€Å"She's always cranky.† Estelle looked up, caught a shirt button, then looked up farther to find Theo's smile. She had never met the constable, but she knew who he was. â€Å"I don't even know why I came in here. I'm not a drinker.† â€Å"Something going around,† Theo said. â€Å"I think maybe we're going to have a stormy winter or something. People are coming out of the woodwork.† They exchanged introductions and Theo complimented Estelle on her paintings, which he'd seen in the local galleries. Estelle dismissed the compliment. â€Å"This seems like a strange place to find the constable,† Estelle said. Theo showed her the cell phone on his belt. â€Å"Base of operations,† he said. â€Å"Most of the trouble has been starting in here anyway. If I'm here already, I can stop it before it escalates.† â€Å"Very conscientious of you.† â€Å"No, I'm just lazy,† Theo said. â€Å"And tired. In the last three weeks I've been called to five domestic disputes, ten fights, two people who barricaded themselves in the bathroom and threatened suicide, a guy who was going house to house knocking the heads off garden gnomes with a sledgehammer, and a woman who tried to take her husband's eye out with a spoon.† â€Å"Oh my. Sounds like one day in the life of an L.A. cop.† â€Å"This isn't L.A.,† Theo said. â€Å"I don't mean to complain, but I'm not really prepared for a crime wave.† â€Å"And there's nowhere left to run,† Estelle said. â€Å"Pardon?† â€Å"People come here to run away from conflict, don't you think? Come to a small town to get out of the violence and the competition in the city. If you can't handle it here, there's nowhere else to go. You might as well give up.† â€Å"Well, that's a little cynical. I thought artists were supposed to be idealists.† â€Å"Scratch a cynic and you'll find a disappointed romantic,† Estelle said. â€Å"That's you?† Theo asked. â€Å"A disappointed romantic?† â€Å"The only man I ever loved died.† â€Å"I'm sorry,† Theo said. â€Å"Me too.† She drained her cup of wine. â€Å"Easy on that, Estelle. It doesn't help.† â€Å"I'm not a drinker. I just had to get out of the house.† There was some shouting over by the pool table. â€Å"My presence is required,† Theo said. â€Å"Excuse me.† He made his way through the crowd to where two men were squaring off to fight. Estelle signaled Mavis for a refill and turned to watch Theo try to make peace. Catfish Jefferson sang a sad song about a mean old woman doing him wrong. That's me, Estelle thought. A mean old worthless woman. Self-medication was working by midnight. Most of the customers at the Slug had given in and started clapping and wailing along with Catfish's Blues. Quite a few had given up and gone home. By closing time, there were only five people left in the Slug and Mavis was cackling over a drawer full of money. Catfish Jefferson put down his National steel guitar and picked up the two-gallon pickle jar that held his tips. Dollar bills spilled over the top, change skated in the bottom, and here and there in the middle fives and tens struggled for air. There was even a twenty down there, and Catfish dug in after it like a kid going for a Cracker Jack prize. He carried the jar to the bar and plopped down next to Estelle, who was gloriously, eloquently crocked. â€Å"Hey, baby,† Catfish said. â€Å"You like the Blues?† Estelle searched the air for the source of the question, as if it might have come from a moth spiraling around one of the lights behind the bar. Her gaze finally settled on the Bluesman and she said, â€Å"You're very good. I was going to leave, but I liked the music.† â€Å"Well, you done stayed now,† Catfish said. â€Å"Look at this.† He shook the money jar. â€Å"I got me upward o' two hundred dollar here, and that mean old woman owe me least that much too. What you say we take a pint and my guitar and go down to the beach, have us a party?† â€Å"I'd better get home,† Estelle said. â€Å"I have to paint in the morning.† â€Å"You a painter? I never knowed me a painter. What you say we go down to the beach and watch us a sunrise?† â€Å"Wrong coast,† Estelle said. â€Å"The sun comes up over the mountains.† Catfish laughed. â€Å"See, you done saved me a heap of waiting already. Let's you and me go down to the beach.† â€Å"No, I can't.† â€Å"It 'cause I'm Black, ain't it?† â€Å"No.† â€Å"‘Cause I'm old, right?† â€Å"No.† â€Å"‘Cause I'm bald. You don't like old bald men, right?† â€Å"No!† Estelle said. â€Å"‘Cause I'm a musician. You heard we irresponsible?† â€Å"No.† â€Å"‘Cause I'm hung like a bull, right?† â€Å"No!† Estelle said. Catfish laughed again. â€Å"Well, you wouldn't mind spreadin that one around town just the same, would you?† â€Å"How would I know how you're hung?† â€Å"Well,† Catfish said, pausing and grinning, â€Å"you could go to the beach with me.† â€Å"You are a nasty and persistent old man, aren't you, Mr. Jefferson?† Estelle asked. Catfish bowed his shining head, â€Å"I truly am, miss. I truly am nasty and persistent. And I am too old to be trouble. I admits it.† He held out a long, thin hand. â€Å"Let's have us a party on the beach.† Estelle felt like she'd just been bamboozled by the devil. Something smooth and vibrant under that gritty old down-home shuck. Was this the dark shadow her paintings kept finding in the surf? She took his hand. â€Å"Let's go to the beach.† â€Å"Ha!† Catfish said. Mavis pulled a Louisville Slugger from behind the bar and held it out to Estelle. â€Å"Here, you wanna borrow this?† They found a niche in the rocks that sheltered them from the wind. Catfish dumped sand from his wing tips and shook his socks out before laying them out to dry. â€Å"That was a sneaky old wave.† â€Å"I told you to take off your shoes,† Estelle said. She was more amused than she felt she had a right to be. A few sips from Catfish's pint had kept the cheap white wine from going sour in her stomach. She was warm, despite the chill wind. Catfish, on the other hand, looked miserable. â€Å"Never did like the ocean much,† Catfish said. â€Å"Too many sneaky things down there. Give a man the creeps, that's what it does.† â€Å"If you don't like the ocean, then why did you ask me to come to the beach?† â€Å"The tall man said you like to paint pictures of the beach.† â€Å"Lately, the ocean's been giving me a bit of the creeps too. My paintings have gone dark.† Catfish wiped sand from between his toes with a long finger. â€Å"You think you can paint the Blues?† â€Å"You ever seen Van Gogh?† Catfish looked out to sea. A three-quarter moon was pooling like mercury out there. â€Å"Van Gogh†¦Van Gogh†¦fiddle player outta St. Louis?† â€Å"That's him,† Estelle said. Catfish snatched the pint out of her hand and grinned. â€Å"Girl, you drink a man's liquor and lie to him too. I know who Vincent Van Gogh is.† Estelle couldn't remember the last time she'd been called a girl, but she was pretty sure she hadn't liked hearing it as much as she did now. She said, â€Å"Who's lying now? Girl?† â€Å"You know, under that big sweater and them overalls, they might be a girl. Then again, I could be wrong.† â€Å"You'll never know.† â€Å"I won't? Now that is some sad stuff there.† He picked up his guitar, which had been leaning on a rock, and began playing softly, using the surf as a backbeat. He sang about wet shoes, running low on liquor, and a wind that chilled right to the bone. Estelle closed her eyes and swayed to the music. She realized that this was the first time she'd felt good in weeks. He stopped abruptly. â€Å"I'll be damned. Look at that.† Estelle opened her eyes and looked toward the waterline where Catfish was pointing. Some fish had run up on the beach and were flopping around in the sand. â€Å"You ever see anything like that?† Estelle shook her head. More fish were coming out of the surf. Beyond the breakers, the water was boiling with fish jumping and thrashing. A wave rose up as if being pushed from underneath. â€Å"There's something moving out there.† Catfish picked up his shoes. â€Å"We gots to go.† Estelle didn't even think of protesting. â€Å"Yes. Now.† She thought about the huge shadows that kept appearing under the waves in her paintings. She grabbed Catfish's shoes, jumped off the rock, and started down the beach to the stairs that led up to a bluff where Catfish's station wagon waited. â€Å"Come on.† â€Å"I'm comin'.† Catfish spidered down the rock and stepped after her. At the car, both of them winded and leaning on the fenders, Catfish was digging in his pocket for the keys when they heard the roar. The roar of a thousand phlegmy lions – equal amounts of wetness, fury, and volume. Estelle felt her ribs vibrate with the noise. â€Å"Jesus! What was that?† â€Å"Get in the car, girl.† Estelle climbed into the station wagon. Catfish was already fumbling the key into the ignition. The car fired up and he threw it into drive, kicking up gravel as he pulled away. â€Å"Wait, your shoes are on the roof.† â€Å"He can have them,† Catfish said. â€Å"They better than the ones he ate last time.† â€Å"He? What the hell was that? You know what that was?† â€Å"I'll tell you soon as I'm done havin this heart attack.† Five The Sea Beast The great Sea Beast paused in his pursuit of the delicious radioactive aroma and sent a subsonic message out to a gray whale passing several miles ahead of him. Roughly translated, it said, â€Å"Hey, baby, how's about you and I eat a few plankton and do the wild thing.† The gray whale continued her relentless swim south and replied with a subsonic thrum that translated, â€Å"I know who you are. Stay away from me.† The Sea Beast swam on. During his journey he had eaten a basking shark, a few dolphins, and several hundred tuna. His focus had changed from food to sex. As he approached the California coast, the radioactive scent began to diminish to almost nothing. The leak at the power plant had been discovered and fixed. He found himself less than a mile offshore with a belly full of shark – and no memory of why he'd left his volcanic nest. But there was a buzz reaching his predator's senses from shore, the listless re-solve of prey that has given up: depression. Warm-blooded food, dolphins, and whales sent off the same signal sometimes. A large school of food was just asking to be eaten, right near the edge of the sea. He stopped out past the surf line and came to the surface in the middle of a kelp bed, his massive head breaking though strands of kelp like a zombie pickup truck breaking sod as it rises from the grave. Then he heard it. A hated sound. The sound of an enemy. It had been half a century since the Sea Beast had left the water, and land was not his natural domain, but his instinct to attack overwhelmed his sense of self-preservation. He threw back his head, shaking the great purple gills that stood out on his neck like trees, and blew the water from his vestigial lungs. Breath burned down his cavernous throat for the first time in fifty years and came out in a horrendous roar of pain and anger. Three of the protective ocular membranes slid back from his eyes like electric car windows. allow-ing him to see in the bitter air. He thrashed his tail, pumped his great webbed feet, and torpedoed toward the shore. Gabe It had been almost ten years since Gabe Fenton had dissected a dog, but now, at three o'clock in the morning, he was thinking seriously about taking a scalpel to Skinner, his three-year-old Labrador retriever, who was deep in the throes of a psychotic barking fit. Skinner had been banished to the porch that afternoon, after he had taken a roll in a dead seagull and refused to go into the surf or get near the hose to be washed off. To Skinner, dead bird was the smell of romance. Gabe crawled out of bed and padded to the door in his boxers, scooping up a hiking boot along the way. He was a biologist, held a Ph.D. in animal behavior from Stanford, so it was with great academic credibility that he opened the door and winged the boot at his dog, following it with the behavior-reinforcing command of: â€Å"Skinner, shut the fuck up!† Skinner paused in his barking fit long enough to duck under the flying L. L. Bean, then, true to his breeding, retrieved it from the washbasin that he used as a water dish and brought it back to the doorway where Gabe stood. Skinner set the soggy boot at the biologist's feet. Gabe closed the door in Skinner's face. Jealous, Skinner thought. No wonder he can't get any females, smelling like fabric softener and soap. The Food Guy wouldn't be so cranky if he'd get out and sniff some butts. (Skinner always thought of Gabe as â€Å"the Food Guy.†) Then, after a quick sniff to confirm that he was, indeed, the Don Juan of all dogs, Skinner resumed his barking fit. Doesn't he get it, Skinner thought, there's something dangerous coming. Danger, Food Guy, danger! Inside, Gabe Fenton glanced at the computer screen in his living room as he returned to bed. A thousand tiny green dots were working their way, en masse, across the map of the Pine Cove area. He stopped and rubbed his eyes. It wasn't possible. Gabe went to the computer and typed in a command. The map of the area reappeared in wider scale. Still, the dots were all moving in a line. He zoomed the map to only a few square miles, the dots were still on the move. Each green dot on the map represented a rat that Gabe had live-trapped, injected with a microchip, and released into the wild. Their location was tracked and plotted by satellite. Every rat in a ten-square-mile area was moving east, away from the coast. Rats did not behave that way. Gabe ran the data backward, looking at the rodents' movements over the last few hours. The exodus had started abruptly, only two hours ago, and already most of the rats had moved over a mile inland. They were running full-tilt and going far beyond their normal range. Rats are sprinters, not long-distance runners. Something was up. Gabe hit a key and a tiny green number appeared next to each of the dots. Each chip was unique, and each rat could be identified like airplanes on the screen of an air traffic controller. Rat 363 hadn't moved outside of a two-meter range for five days. Gabe had assumed that she had either given birth or was ill. Now 363 was half a mile from her normal territory. Anomalies are both the bane and bread of researchers. Gabe was excited by the data, but at the same time it made him anxious. An anomaly like this could lead to a discovery, or make him look like a total fool. He cross-checked the data three different ways, then tapped into the weather station on the roof. Nothing was happening in the way of weather, all changes in barometric pressure, humidity, wind, and temperature were well within normal ranges. He looked out the window: a low fog was settling on the shore, totally normal. He could just make out the lighthouse a hundred yards away. It had been shut down for twenty years, used only as a weather station and as a base for biological research. He grabbed a blanket off of his bed and wrapped it around his shoulders against the chill, then returned to his desk. The green dots were still moving. He dialed the number for JPL in Pasadena. Skinner was still barking outside. â€Å"Skinner, shut the fuck up!† Gabe shouted just as the automated answering service put him through to the seismology lab. A woman answered. She sounded young, probably an intern. â€Å"Excuse me?† she said. â€Å"Sorry, I was yelling at my dog. Yes, hello, this is Dr. Gabe Fenton at the research station in Pine Cove, just wondering if you have any seismic activity in my area.† â€Å"Pine Cove? Can I get a longitude and latitude?† Gabe gave it to her. â€Å"I think I'm looking for something offshore.† â€Å"Nothing. Minor tremor centered at Parkfield yesterday at 9 A.M. Point zero-five-three. You wouldn't even be able to feel it. Have you picked something up on your instruments?† â€Å"I don't have seismographic instruments. That's why I called you. This is a biological research and weather station.† â€Å"I'm sorry, Doctor, I didn't know. I'm new here. Did you feel something?† â€Å"No. My rats are moving.† As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn't. â€Å"Pardon me?† â€Å"Never mind, I was just checking. I'm having some anomalous behavior in some specimens. If you pick up anything in the next few days, could you call me?† He gave her his number. â€Å"You think your rats are predicting an earthquake, Doctor?† â€Å"I didn't say that.† â€Å"You should know that there's no concrete data on animals predicting seismic activity.† â€Å"I know that, but I'm trying to eliminate all the possibilities.† â€Å"Did it occur to you that your dog might be scaring them?† â€Å"I'll factor that in,† Gabe said. â€Å"Thank you for your time.† He hung up, feeling stupid. Nothing seismic or meteorological, and a call to the highway patrol confirmed that there were no chemical spills or fires. He had to confirm the data. Perhaps something was wrong with the satellite signal. The only way to find out was to take out his portable antenna and track the rats in the field. He dressed quickly and headed out to his truck. â€Å"Skinner, you want to go for a ride?† Skinner wagged his tail and made a beeline for the truck. About time, he thought. You need to get away from the shore, Food Guy, right now. Inside the house, ten green dots were moving away from the others toward the shore. The Sea Beast The Sea Beast crawled up the beach, roaring as his legs took the full weight of his body and the undertow sucked at his haunches. The urgency of killing his enemy had diminished now and hunger was upon him in re-sponse to the effort of moving out of the ocean. An organ at the base of his brain that had disappeared from other species when man's only living an-cestors were tree shrews produced an electric signal to call food. There were many prey here, that same organ sensed. The Sea Beast came to the fifty-foot cliff that bordered the beach, reared back on his tail, and pulled himself up with his forelegs. He was a hundred feet long, nose to tail, and stood twenty-five feet tall with his broad neck extended to its full height. His rear feet were wide and webbed, his front talonlike, with a thumb that opposed three curved claws for grasping and killing prey. On the dry grass above the beach, some of the prey he had called already waited. Raccoons, ground squirrels, a few skunks, a fox, and two cats ca-vorted on the grass – some copulated, others dug at fleas with blissful abandon, others just rolled on their backs as if overcome by a fit of joy. The Sea Beast swept them into his great maw with a flick of his tongue, crunching a few bones on the way down, but swallowing most whole. He belched and savored the skunky bouquet, his jaws smacking together like two wet mattresses, and a flash of neon color ran across his flanks with the pleasure. He moved over the bluff, across the Coast Highway, and into the sleeping town. The streets were deserted, lights off in all the businesses on Cypress Street. A low fog splashed against the pseudo-Tudor half-timbered buildings and formed green coronas around the streetlights. Above it all, the red Texaco sign shone like a beacon. The Sea Beast changed the color of his skin to the same smoky gray as the fog and moved down the center of the street looking like a serpentine cloud. He followed a low rumbling sound coming from under the red beacon, broke out of the fog, and there he saw her. She purred, taunting and teasing him from the front of the deserted Texaco station. That come-hither rumble. That low, sexy growl. Those silver flanks reflecting fog and the red Texaco sign called to him, begged him to mount her. The Sea Beast flashed a rainbow of color down his sides to display his magnificent maleness. He fanned the gill trees on his neck, sending bands of color and light into their branches. The Sea Beast sent her a signal, which roughly translated into: â€Å"Hey, baby, haven't seen you around before.† She sat there, purring, playing coy, but he knew she wanted him. She had short black legs, a stumpy tail, and smelled as if she may have recently eaten a trawler, but those magnificent silver flanks were too much to resist. The Sea Beast turned himself silver as well, to make her feel a little more comfortable, then reared up on his hind legs and displayed his aroused member. No response, just that shy purring. He took it as an invitation and moved across the parking lot to mount the fuel truck. Estelle Estelle placed a mug of tea in front of Catfish, then sat down across the table from him with her own. Catfish sipped the tea and grimaced, then pulled the pint from his back pocket and unscrewed the cap. Estelle caught his hand before he could pour. â€Å"You have some explaining to do first, Mr. Bluesman.† Estelle was more than a little rattled. When they were only half a mile away from the beach, she had been overtaken by a sudden urge to return and had fought Catfish for control of the car. It was crazy behavior. It frightened her as much as the thing at the beach had, and when they got to her house she immediately took a Zoloft, even though she'd already had her dose for the day. â€Å"Leave me be, woman. I said I'd tell you. I needs me some nerve medicine.† Estelle released his hand. â€Å"What was that at the beach?† Catfish splashed some whiskey into Estelle's tea first, then into his own. He grinned, â€Å"You see my name wasn't always Catfish. I was born with the name of Meriwether Jefferson. Catfish come on me sometime later.† â€Å"Christ, Catfish, I'm sixty years old. Am I going to live long enough to hear the end of this story? What in the hell was out in the water tonight?† She was definitely not herself, swearing like this. â€Å"You wanna know or not?† Estelle sipped her tea. â€Å"Sorry, go ahead.†

A report on the Implementation of Standard Costing

A report on the Implementation of Standard Costing In current years, various tools such as activity-based costing, the balanced scorecard and target costing have been used in the business community. However, traditional management accounting systems continue to be widely applied. One example is standard costing, which has been used on a wide front during the last century. The purpose of this paper is to examine the widely use of standard costing system. Despite it is less relevant than newer accounting methods, standard costing is far from obsolete. Because of its simplicity, flexibility and affordability, standard costing remains a favorite cost accounting method among accounting and finance professionals. Introduction: In today’s time of rapid technologic change, tough global and domestic competition, total cost management is central to sustained corporate profitability and competitiveness. The management focus today is to minimize cost. The cost leadership strategy does not mean compromise on either quality or technology o r product differentiation. Low costs are no advantage, if the customers are not willing to buy the product of low cost firm. Cost management has to be driven with customer as the focus. The survival way for any company is how to manage its product/service cost, quality and performance. The customers are continuously demanding high quality and better performance products/services and at the same time, they want the prices to fall. The shareholders are also demanding a required rate of return on their investment with the company. Thus, cost has become a residual. The challenge is being able to manufacture or provide service with the stipulated cost framework. Thus, cost management has to be an ongoing continuous improvement program. Standard Costing In recent years, various tools such as activity-based costing, the balanced scorecard and target costing have been used in the business community (Kaplan Kaplan Ansari et al†¦1997). However, traditional management accounting systems continue to be widely applied (Brewer, 2000). One example of traditional management accounting is standard costing. Standards can be used with either job order or process costing system to provide important information for managerial planning, controlling, and decision making. Standard costing assists in setting budgets and evaluating managerial performance. The major motive to use standard costing is because it facilitates product costing estimation (Ask & Ax, 1997). Ask and Ax’s study is supported by a study conducted by Puxty and Lyall (1989), which reported that 76 percent of the UK commercial and industrial companies operate a standard costing system. Although it is used widely, people recently criticize it could not provide the information needed in today’s competitive environment. Despite the criticism, there are few signs that the use of standard costing tends to decrease. The survey from Ask and AX (1997) showed that 12.6 % of the companies investigated state d that they would abandon standards but on the other hand, 9.9 % stated that they would like to convert to standard costing system. The History of Standard Costing The standard costing system was developed in the early 1900s. According to Drury (1992), it was the scientific management principles recommended by F.W. Taylor and other engineers. Scientific engineers built up information about standards to set up â€Å"the best way† to use labour and material resources within manufacturing. Engineers used the standards to provide information for planning the flow of work so that the waste of materials and labour was minimized. Interestingly, engineers did not consider standards as a tool to control financial costs at that time (Drury, 1992)

Denial of Service Attacks (DoSs) Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1750 words

Denial of Service Attacks (DoSs) - Essay Example In this scenario, this extra data is used to corrupt and overwrite the available memory. As a result it allows an attacker to put in random actions on the web server or destroy the system completely. It is commonly seen that the majority of web applications fails to effectively avoid the actions inserted or performed by random code into the system which can only be performed with the administrator rights of the operating system. For instance, an attacker can insert an executable instruction like that , inside a legal web site form below the appearance of an HTTP (hypertext transfer protocol) request in an attempt to get access to that particular web server. However, if an attacker gets a success in deceiving security configuration, he/she can be able to get access to the /etc/passwd file as well as can get all files and, in the end, the usernames and passwords which are stored on the web server (Kennedy, 2005). In order to mitigate these security attacks, organizations can take follo wing initiatives: First of all, an organization needs to recognize buffer overflows by putting huge values into header, form inputs, and cookie fields. They must implement effective techniques to stop illegal users from inserting unauthenticated code. They must authenticate the input field length. Cross-site Scripting (XSS) In this kind of attack a web application works as a source of help for launching an attack to an end user's browser by making use of the web browser of other web users who visit the page. In this scenario, an attacker develops and launches a web site that takes benefit of a cross-site scripting defect and a simple user can view this attacker’s web site such as by clicking on a link mentioned in an e-mail received from a friend and the attacker’s nasty program or that fake web site can then be opened on the user's computer. If an attacker gets a success in this attack then he/she can be able to get access to the end user's session token, spoof conten t to fool the user or attack the local machine (Kennedy, 2005). In order to mitigate these security attacks, organizations can take following initiatives (Kennedy, 2005): An organization must adopt strict measures to scan all the possible inputs in order that end-user data cannot be translated as scripted content. A variety of data integrity checks should be carried out on data before their distribution to make sure the data are sensible. If it is possible, limit all end-user input to alphanumeric content. Denial of Service Attacks DoS attack (denial of service) can be defined as an event that prevents un-authorized access to the resources or make interruption in those operations that are critical with time factor. Additionally, DoS attack is sometimes called distributed denial-of-service attack  (DDoS attack). This sort of attacks (denial of service attack) may target users in an attempt to stop them from creating links on the network. However these connections may include outgoi ng transmission. In addition, a DoS attack may also target a whole corporation. In this scenario, it can stop incoming traffic or to prevent outgoing traffic towards network related applications. In this way this attack tries best to stop the victim from being usage of network links. Moreover, denial of service attack is straightforward in accomplishment as compared to gaining managerial access to a specific system from distant location. That’s why DoS attack gains popularity on the Internet (Chan et al., 2010) and (Tech-FAQ, 2011). DoS attacks can easily halt our computer machine or our network connection. However, it totally depends on the

The Discovery of the Theory of Natural Selection by Darwin Research Paper

The Discovery of the Theory of Natural Selection by Darwin - Research Paper Example No theory has been as revolutionary or as controversial as the theory by Charles Darwin in his thoughts on natural selection. This paper shall discuss the discovery of the theory of natural selection by Darwin. It shall first present a summary of the scientific theories about evolution before Darwin’s discovery of natural selection. It shall also provide a description of how the discovery was made, including what was going on in Darwin’s life for him to make the discovery. It shall then present a description of natural selection in terms of the modern evolutionary synthesis of the 20th century. Finally, this paper shall also apply the principles of natural selection, explaining why we have the current problem of bacteria which has become resistant to antibiotics. Discussion Evolutionary theories were first seen with the Greek philosophers who adhered to the ideas of origination, setting forth that all things originate from water or air, and that all matters come from on e central and guiding principle (Think Quest). Medieval theories on evolution were dominated by Christianity and its teachings. Immanuel Kant set forth that based on similar qualities of organisms, all organisms come from a single source. He further discussed that a chimpanzee may develop organs which he would use for walking and grasping objects, and from these organs, the structure of man may evolve and develop into a social culture (Think Quest). Carolus Linnaeus first believes in a fixed quality or nature of species; however, with hybridization, he soon found out that new species can be built from the original species. He also considers hybridization as part of God’s plan. The British Admiralty in 1831 invited a naturalist to travel with Capt. Robert Fitzroy on a voyage in the HMS Beagle to survey Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego, Chile, Peru, and the Pacific Islands. Charles Darwin was recommended to join this voyage, and he journeyed with the Beagle for five years (Vardiman) . His tour of the Cape Verde Islands provided him a practical application of Charles Lyell Principles of Geology with his views of volcanoes and other geological formations. In his tour, he was able to witness massive erosion downstream coming from glaciers. He then thought that the glaciers could not have been formed the way they did if the explanations of the Bible would be believed (Vardiman). He then considered truths in the explanations of Lyell and his doctrine of uniformitarianism. He saw his first tropical rain forest in Brazil and his first fossils in Argentina. He also saw the tribe of savage men in Tierra del Fuego, then he experienced his first earthquake in Chile. He climbed mountains, he observed finchs with varying beak lengths and he travelled the Galapagos islands, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Brazil, and then back to England (Vardiman). His theories stemmed from his travels on board the Beagle. His initial interests were on the geological, as evidenced by his first published books. After his voyage on the Beagle, he also attempted to explain his observations on birds and tortoises on the Galapagos Island. He then went on to consider explanations and theories in relation to anatomy, embryology, and geographical distribution (Vardiman). The concept of natural selection was eventually established due to the selection pressure which he related to the ecological niches of the different species. His theory was the first to â€Å"provide evidence for evolution and to explain how the process of natural selection produces adaptation† (Vardiman). Darwin approached natural selection from various perspectives and he discussed that due to the

Individualized Education Program Research Proposal

Individualized Education Program - Research Proposal Example During my classroom observation, I did not let Mr. John know that I am observing him. During classes he is hard headed and very talkative. During their English lesson, the teacher had given them 15 minutes to read a short story. After reading the story, the teacher asked the students to answer the study questions found at the end of the story. His classmates answered the question on their own, but Mr. John did not begin answering the question until he was guided by the teacher. During the oral participation, he was called to two questions: one which the answer is very obvious, while the other needs reasoning. He was able to answer the easy question, but simply scratch his head on the second question. During their math lesson, he was asked to solve a worded problem. He was not able to locate the given figures that are required to solve the problem. When the teacher had provided him the given figure and the required operation to solve the problem, he then understand the process and had answered the problem correctly. Based on that observation, Mr. John found it hard to identify key ideas that are implied in what he is reading. During their Science lesson, their topic was all about food chain. He was asked by his teacher to draw the diagram of the food chain on the board. He then draw the diagram immediately and I was amazed by his artistic skills. When asked of what subjects he hate, he replied â€Å"I hate math problems, and I also hate reading stories because it is boring.†... The reason why his mother tried to abort him is because she is not ready to get pregnant at first. Both of his parents were fresh graduate at that moment and have no job at all, but the abortion failed. All attention was given to him when he was born until he grew up. He was raised as a spoiled child, provided with everything he wants. They had just discovered his personality problem when he first went to school, and he always receive lower grade until this time. The table below shows Mr. John's attitude at home based on the interview I conducted with his parents. At Home Fought with his younger brother during playtime. He don't want to be interrupted in what he is doing. Most of his time is consumed on watching his favorite cartoon shows. He easily get bored, he hates going to church and attending social parties with his parents. He often fights with his neighbor playmates because he doesn't want to be under shadowed. He gets bored scanning his notes and doing assignments. Most of the time he is guided by her mother in doing home works. He has poor appetite on healthy foods such as vegetables. 9. Work sample analysis: List at least six general samples that you would need to support your summary and recommendations 10. Classroom observations: List at least four general ideas of what you would 'see' that would support your summary and recommendations During my classroom observation, I did not let Mr. John know that I am observing him. During classes he is hard headed and very talkative. During their English lesson, the teacher had given them 15 minutes to read a short story. After reading the story, the teacher asked the students to answer the study questions found at the end of the story. His classmates answered the question on their

Ethical Legal Dilemma Advanced Practice Nursing Case Study I Week 3 Assignment

Ethical Legal Dilemma Advanced Practice Nursing Case Study I Week 3 - Assignment Example Though it may seem callous to say, the main objective is to draw a line that crosses both an ethical and a legal aspect of such a scenario in order to negate any sort of liability that may befall the hospital should anything happen (Grant & Ballard, 2011). Physician Assisted Suicide (PAS) is a very controversial subject with both sides holding strong arguments on why it should or should not be accepted. On one hand its seen as the simple and outright killing of another individual yet on the other it can be said that such an act cannot be considered to be murder as it involves the willing participation of the so called victim (Lachman, 2010). What can be considered to be the best option as a result is the creation of a strong outline for the circumstances under which PAS is allowed for an individual (Calandrillo, 1998). This is due to the fact that in some cases an individual who is bound to die in the end is simply being given a choice of suffering through out till the end or choosing to go in a more peaceful manner but earlier than would have been the case. An individual should have the right to be able to make such a decision for themselves (Lachman,

Performance evaluation and measurment in Abu Dhabi police department Essay

Performance evaluation and measurment in Abu Dhabi police department - Essay Example This paper analyzes the suitability of different performance evaluation metrics based on chosen criteria for evaluation and recommends the implementation of ‘Balanced Scorecard’ approach to performance measurement in Abu Dhabi Police Department and illustrates the application of this performance measurement tool as part of a strategic planning initiative. Keeping the maintenance of security and stability as the main goal the Abu Dhabi Police General Headquarters has framed its strategic initiatives for excelling in its performance. The strategic priorities include (i) effective controlling of the crime, (ii) increasing the confidence of the community in police and public safety services, (iii) maintaining security and safety in the Emirate of Abu Dhabi, (iv) making commuting through the roads safer, (v) improving the performance of the staff of the department by implementing the best international practices and (vi) providing all policing operations with functional support (Abu Dhabi Police Strategic Plan, 2008). The responsibility for improving meeting these strategic priorities and improving the performance has been entrusted with the Strategic Management and Performance Improvement Department reporting directly to the Commander General of Abu Dhabi Police. Unlike many of the other police forces in the world, the aim of Abu Dhabi Police does not stop with achieving peace by reducing crime. The Department embarks upon much deeper and concept of performance which is more visionary in nature. Therefore the objective of Strategic Management and Performance Improvement Department is to transform the Abu Dhabi Policemen from the conventional symbol of watcher and guardian to the a non-traditional image of the comprehensive employee. This calls for a complete relook into the performance appraisal system and suggest suitable alternatives so that the Department can contribute more the maintenance of peace, tradition and justice

THE_MEDIA_DB Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1000 words

THE_MEDIA_DB - Essay Example In democracy, people have the freedom to profess what they believe. There is freedom of speech and expression. The American declaration of independence, the French declaration of the rights of man etc. have emphasised the importance of freedom. Freedom is essential for the all round development and personality of the individual. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights also emphasised the importance of freedom. All democratic constitutions of the word provide freedom to the people. So, there is no doubt that freedom is essential and most popular struggles have been for freedom. Now the question is to what extent freedom is permissible? Is complete freedom desirable? If freedom is to be restricted, who has the power to do so? It is an accepted view that freedom is to be restricted in such a way that one’s exercise of freedom should not affect exercise of similar freedom by other individuals and should not take away the rights of other individuals. The issues mentioned above ar e relevant to internet freedom also. Virtual space has become a reality. Internet has penetrated to every part of the world. It is the era of e-governance and e -commerce. People spent more time at internet than before. Information, political or otherwise is acceble to all. Social networking sites are growing and corporate sector is also making use of the facilities associated with internet. The internet provides opportunity for people to relate with anybody in any part of the world. It is easy to spread ideas and form groups. So, there is reason to believe that internet promotes freedom and democracy. With the help of internet, administration has become more transparent. Political parties and candidates conduct election campaigns using internet. In a recent university address titled â€Å"Internet Rights and Wrongs: Choices and Challenges in a Networked World,† Secretary of State Hillary Clinton berated authoritarian regimes and praised the people of Tunisia and Egypt for us ing digital tools to organise democratic protests (On real Internet Freedom). In that address Mrs. Clinton underscored high opportunity cost for countries which filter or shut down the Internet (On real Internet Freedom). She praised twitter for helping frustrated citizens of the Arab world. It can be said that discontent in Tunisia exploded in public anger when Wiki Leaks published the cables on the U.S. ambassador's assessment of corruption by President Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali (On real Internet Freedom). The Tunisian uprising was triggered by the revelations of wiki leaks and internet. In the era of wiki leaks, publishing secrets is a major danger of unchecked internet. The judicial position on the Pentagon Papers on Vietnam, refusing to grant prior restraint on publication of classified documents, serves as a clear guide for internet freedom (On real Internet Freedom). While acknowledging the fact that internet freedom is important, unchecked internet freedom pause certain danger s to the political world. One such danger is related to secrecy. It is natural that every individual, organisation and state has some secret things which it wants to keep private and do not like to disclose. In the interest of national interest, a state has a right to keep certain things secret. It may be a part of the strategy. Disclosing such things might hamper national security. Internet facilitates publication of such documents as evidence by wiki Leaks. But this is not a reason shut down internet