Essay Essays (274 words) - Sherry Turkle, Women In Technology

COMPTERS In our present life everything is connected with computer technology. We use computers at home, work and we are often assisted by them in shops, banks, offices and many other places. People often do not see any disadvantages of having computers; I will try to show you good and bad sides of using them. In the first place, a computer is a really comfortable, convenient and helpful thing; it often makes lots of work for us which normally consumes plenty of time.Another useful thing is that computers now are often small and we can take them wherever we want. We can use them f. ex. in planes, restaurants or in same waiting rooms.An additional advantage of using the computer is that we can develop our computer skills and we can learn in this way. Now, there are many programs for learning, especially languages. On the other hand, computers have disadvantages too; the most important one is about destroying our eyesight. Computers do harm to our eyes, if we use them too much. As a result, we can lose our sight and become blind.Although we can keep in touch with many people by computer it is possible to become a bad thing. People need to see others, we like being in groups and talking face to face. By communicators we cannot feel, touch and see our interlocutor. Summing up, computers are really comfortable and useful for us, but we must remember to use them in a reasonably way. Now, our world is so modern and we have to become friends with new technology even if we don?t want to.

The Best IB English Study Guide and Notes for SL

The Best IB English Study Guide and Notes for SL/HL SAT / ACT Prep Online Guides and Tips Are you taking IB English and need some help with your studying? No need to reread all the books and poems you covered in class! This study guide is for IB English A students (students in IB English A: literature SL/HL, IB English A: language and literature SL/HL, or IB English literature and performance SL) who are looking for additional guidance on writing their commentaries or essays. I've compiled this IB English study guide using the best free materials available for this class. Use it to supplement your classwork and help you prepare for exams throughout the school year. What’s Tested on the IB English Exams? The IB English courses are unique from other IB classes in that they don't have a very rigid curriculum with exact topics to cover. Instead, your class (or most likely your teacher) is given the freedom to choose what works (from a list of prescribed authors and a list of prescribed literature in translation from IBO) to teach. The exams reflect that freedom. On the exam for all English A courses, you’re asked to write an essay (or essays) that incorporates examples from the novels you read. You’re also asked to interpret text (typically poetry, though sometimes an excerpt from a book) that you read for the first time the day of the exam. The exact number of questions varies by the course, but the types of questions asked on each all fall into the two categories listed above. What’s Offered in This Guide? In this guide, I have compiled materials to help teach you how to interpret poetry and how to structure your essay/commentary. I've also provided notes on several books typically taught in IB English SL/HL. This should be all of the material you need to study for your IB exam and to study for your in-class exams. How to Interpret Poetry Guides Many people struggle the most with the poetry material, and if you're one of those people,we have some resources specifically for making poetry questions easier. Here is afull explanation of how to interpret poetry for the IB examwith term definitions, descriptions of types of poems, and examples.This is another great resource withpoetry terms defined on â€Å"flashcards†, and you can test yourself on the site by clicking "play". How to Write Your Essay Guide If you're not sure how to write your essay, here's a guide towhat you essay should look like for the IB English SL/HL papers.This guide gives advice on how you should structure your essay and what you should include in it. It also contains a few sample questions so you can get a better idea of the types of prompts you can expect to see. IB English Book Notes Based on the list of prescribed authors and literaturefrom IBO, I picked some of the most popular books to teach and provided links to notes on those works. What's important to remember from these books is key moments, themes, motifs, and symbols, so you can discuss them on your in-class tests and the IB papers. Agamemnon Anna Karenina Antigone Crime and Punishment Death of a Salesman A Doll's House Don Quixote Dr. Zhivago Hamlet Heart of Darkness Jane Eyre King Lear Love in the Time of Cholera Macbeth One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich Romeo Juliet Sense and Sensibility The Stranger The Sun Also Rises Waiting for Godot The Best Study Practices for IB English Hopefully, this guide will be an asset to you throughout the school year for in-class quizzes as well as at the end of the year for the IB exam. Taking practice tests is also important, and you should also look at our other article for access to FREE IB English past papersto help you familiarize yourself with the types of questions asked by the IBO (and I’m sure your teacher will ask similar questions on your quizzes). Make sure you're reading all of the novels and poetry assigned to you in class, and take detailed notes on them. This will help you remember key themes and plot points so you don't find yourself needing to reread a pile of books right before the exam. Finally, keep up with the material you learn in class,and don't fall behind.Reading several novels the week before the IB exam won’t be much help. You need to have time and let the material sink in over the course of the class, so you’re able to remember it easily on the day of the IB exam. What’s Next? Want some morestudy materials for IB English?Our guide to IB English past papers has links to every free and official past IB English paper available! Are you hoping to squeeze in some extra IB classes? Learn about the IB courses offered onlineby reading our guide. Not sure where you want to go to college? Check out our guide to finding your target school.Also, figure out your target SAT score or target ACT score. Want to improve your SAT score by 160 points or your ACT score by 4 points?We've written a guide for each test about the top 5 strategies you must be using to have a shot at improving your score. Download it for free now:

First peoples in Canada Research Paper Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1000 words

First peoples in Canada - Research Paper Example The Residential School System The residential school system systematically undermined the culture of the Aboriginals and insinuated that it was not worth adopting or following at all costs. Aboriginal children were forcefully separated from their families for lengthy periods of time. During this separation, the children were given strict rules not to talk in their own language and do anything that is related to their culture. Breaking of these rules would lead to sever punishments (Hanson, 2013). It is a common knowledge that culture is passed down generations by the process of parents-children value transfers. By separating children from their parents for long durations of time, it was impossible for the Aboriginal culture to be passed down. The federal government and churches were aware of this because this was the chief objective of this school system – no wonder this system has been referred as a form of cultural genocide. In deed when the Prime minister Stephen Harper iss ued an official apology in regard to residential school system, he said that the system was based on a wrong assumption that â€Å"Aboriginal cultures and spiritual beliefs were inferior and unequal† (Hanson, 2013, p. 1). It is therefore clear that the system was dehumanizing and directly insinuated that the Aboriginal culture was not worth following being inferior. The conditions in the school system were abusive and logically the system did not qualify to use the term ‘school’ in its title. Residential school staff has been accused of great abuses to which students were subjected to. The abuses alleged were physical, sexual, emotional and psychological (Hanson, 2013). According to Miller, the residential school system offered a net negative experience for students – students were said to look back with pain after passing through the system. Children spent a lot of time at the schools and never obtained the emotional support needed by children from their parents. Food was not enough for them and the clothes they were given were shabby and not warm enough especially for the winter seasons (Miller, 2012). This must have been psychologically disturbing to the children taking into consideration their tender ages – 16 years and below. The fact that they were constantly told their culture was inferior and they should never speak their native language must equally have been disturbing (Truth and Reconciliation Commission, 2013). Former students of this system have been pressing through litigation for compensation for suffering they were subjected to under this system. As an indication that students were abused under this system, the federal government has been undertaking measure to show its remorse. One such step is â€Å"the $1.9-billion compensation package for the survivors of abuse at Aboriginal residential schools† (Miller, 2012, p. 1). Students in the system were abused and their dignity was not upheld – accordi ng to Hanson (2013), many of them died due to the conditions and punishments. The experiences that students underwent in this system were dehumanizing. This system did not educate students as was expected being a school but instead just wasted their time. This system up to the 1950s operated on a

Japans right to whaling is legally justified Essay

Japans right to whaling is legally justified - Essay Example Whaling remains one of the most hotly debated topics amongst various global issues related to environmental protection, and revolves around the main question as whether humans should keep up the practice of hunting whales. Even though the scientists believe that under current wildlife protection management system it is unlikely that whales will become extinct, the practice of whaling is still widely condemned (Nagasaki, 1993). The anti-whaling sentiments took form mainly during the late 1970s when many anti-whaling and non-whaling countries joined the International Whaling Commission (IWC), in order â€Å"to provide for the proper conservation of whale stocks and thus make possible the orderly development of the whaling industry† (International Whaling Commission, The Convention, 2003). In 1982, IWC members voted with three-fourth majority that brought forth a break on commercial whaling. In this context the text (paragraph 10(e)- classification of stocks) that implement ban o n commercial whaling states â€Å"Notwithstanding the other provisions of paragraph 10, catch limits for the killing for commercial purposes of whales from all stocks for the 1986 coastal and the 1985/86 pelagic seasons and thereafter shall be zero† (International Whaling Commission, The Convention, 2003). The 1986 moratorium banning commercial whaling led to the formation of a strong opposition against countries like Iceland, Norway and Japan that continue to hunt whales, which they claim to be primarily for scientific research work. Here the opposition to whaling now relates to a compete banning of whale killing in any form, commercial or for scientific reason. Countries like Australia and the US along with NGOs like Greenpeace claim that with some species of the whales being in list of endangered animals, whaling in any form must be banned.

Business Requirements-HR Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1000 words

Business Requirements-HR - Essay Example The company, with the use of IS, can enable employees to be trained using virtual training centers and conferences. The quality assurance at different outlets is a major task to standardize as the teams are not the same in different places. Centralized quality standards and assurance procedures may help them to avoid any differences in the quality of products at different outlets. Using information systems to maintain a quality database containing standards and procedures for sharing among various quality teams will result in a centralized procedures and checks. Using the information systems, the information sharing has become easy and quick. The evaluations can be done online and the tabulation, analysis and consolidations can be done automatically at runtime . the management can now get instantaneous update of the evaluations and performance reports. Hiring and training are major aspects of any HR department. Hiring the right people is attributed to the information systems to a great extent as they allow a bigger reach to the potential candidates. The comprehensive online tests, interviews and testing features allow for a thorough test of abilities and potential of the candidates. This helps in getting better employees and a more efficient HR department. Trainings are also carried out using teleconferencing and virtual training rooms whereby a trainer in any location can be transmitted to anywhere in the world. The company can train all its employees remotely from one location to any place and at the same time allowing the participants to participate and interact with the trainer and other participants. This allows the trainer to carry out interactive exercise online. Payment correctly Payrolls are confidential and critical for the employer and the employees. Using efficient payroll mechanisms is vital for the coffee business. Payroll systems are an alternate to manual payment systems. They are efficient, reliable, fast and provides an easy to use payroll management. New policies, increments and changes in pay structure can all be easily incorporated into the system. Retaining and rewards programs Employee performance appraisal, rewards and incentives can be applied and handled using the HR module. This allows for a better and efficient integration of the incentive plans, monitoring and rewarding employees based on their performance and to keep them motivated. The current system does not cater to the needs of appraisals of employees based on their performance and routine feedback. Appraisals take too long to reach the relevant personnel as they require manual and physical transportation of documents. The results are then analyzed and communicated to relevant personnel. This creates a state of risk whereby a poorly rated employee may result in lost customers to the organization. With the implementation of the HR module of

Individual Assignment The Introduction To Hospitality Tourism Essay

Individual Assignment The Introduction To Hospitality Tourism Essay Hospitality is the relationship between guest and host, or the act or practice of being hospitable. Specifically, this includes the reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers, resorts, membership clubs, conventions, attractions, special events, and other services for travelers and tourists. Hotel, motels, inns, or such businesses that provides transitional or short-term lodging, with or without food. The hospitality industry consists of broad category of fields within the service industry that includes lodging, restaurants, event planning, theme parks, transportation, cruise line, and additional fields within the tourism industry.Hospitality also means providing services and welcoming strangers without expecting anything in return. Here if you see and redefine the words Hospital and Hospitality it will give you the same answer. In Hospital a Doctor takes care of a Stranger who comes to him without knowing  who is in front of him with his physical problem and expe cts that he will be taken care properly without any doubt. The patient expects that the right type of treatment is given from the time he comes to the Hospital till he is discharged. Same is with Hospitality. When a strangers walks in who is your Guest he expects a proper welcome with a smile and he is taken care with Proper accommodation, Food and Beverage till he checks out. The stay must be memorable and he should feel fit and fine with the services provided. Question 1 1.1Define the term Hospitality Industry and give examples, advantages, and disadvantages of their use in the hospitality industry? The hospitality industry is a huge and famous industry in this world, and there are multiple areas in this industry. This industry is specialized by training. This gigantic sector includes tourism and tour, traditional hospitality industry such as resorts and hotels, motel and a range of other hospitality services. ( Johnston, 2010). Because of this industry is famous so there is several advantages in this industry. But if we look deep through this industry also got some disadvantages also. The advantage of hospitality industry is that, they afford to provide the full service to their customers. For example, many hotels or resorts are around-the-clock, provide 24-hour operations and staffs are required to work varied shifts and extended hours for their customer satisfaction. Its means they provide the services for their clients all the time. Without bothering the time of the clients ask for the service. For example if any of the clients need foods or any other service at midnight means they can provide all the service to them without any further adore. Besides that, this industry also provides other services such as tour and tourism beside provide only the accommodation service. Mostly the resort department will provide this as their service. It is because mostly the resorts will located at beach site waterfall site. So the people those who are go there can enjoy the beach site by staying there for 2 days or more than 2 days. In this situation, the industry helps their client to enjoy the nature by staying at beach site. The resorts also sometimes will build at jungle site. Those who is interest for stay in jungle for get any deferent experience they can go there and stay there and at the same time can enjoy the jungle life. The hospitality industry is famous for accommodation sector. They provide this sector with multiple categories. For example five star hotel, four star hotels, and three star hotels and so on. So those who are afford to pay the high fee they will choose their standard level hotel such as five star or four star hotels and those who are not afford to pay more fees only for the accommodations for a short period time will choose the lower level hotels. So its shows that this industry provide hotels for all the people according to their living standard. Then glamour myth also a advantage of the hospitality industry. Is means the hotel industry offers you the chance to meet rich, famous and interesting people. So we can meet them at the place where go for rest but at the same time it brings benefit to us. Can get meet any famous person or any important person who are in the same carrier with us. For example, if Im a business person I can get to meet any other business person who is carry on the same business with me, so I can develop my business very well and famous. At the same time they can include scientists attending in-house conferences, foreign tourists, local business people and ordinary everyday citizens. Although you might be able to tell your friends that Hollywoods hottest stars are staying in your hotel, youll probably have to stretch the truth a little to say that you actually talked with them. Celebrities might chat with you like an old friend, out of politeness, only when ordering room service, or not at all. Some may be jovial and even invite you for a drink, while others will treat you with the cool and fun. Furthermore the hospitality industry provides the standard living for their client. They provide services with the standard level such as the rooms that they provide the foods that they provide. They provide the rooms with full furniture and all the equipment. So the client will happily can enjoy all the service of them. So they will satisfy with their service and may be the loyal to the particular hospitality industry. With the advantages of hotel Industry come the disadvantages too. The disadvantage of this industry is long and odd hours. This means that if the client or customer of that particular hotel doesnt like early starts or late finishes, then the hotel industry may not be help them. They may make late to help the client purposely. Besides that, pressure, high standards and deadlines also a disadvantages of the hospitality industry. Working for demanding clients and management is not the downside of working in hotels for it is what the industry is all about but you may find that the pressure of guest and management expectations are more stressful than you ever imagined. Pressure and deadlines are intrinsic elements of the industry and the best hotel workers thrive on conquering the challenges and obstacles placed in the way of personal and company objectives. Culture problem also consider as a disadvantage of this industry. Most of the hospitality industry provides their service with the western style but it not suitable for all the clients of them. For example we can take the Malay religion, they cannot eat all the food especially pork at all and they can eat only halal food so they face some problems. Then also must prepare with at least a special hall for their praying. Because Malays must at the correct time and must carry on the prayer at the special venue which is called as surau if there dont have mosque. So some of the hotel or hospitality management sometimes never provides or forget to prepare all this things to them. Besides Malays, in our country the Indian are sometimes will carry on the vegetarian. So the hotels must prepare the vegetarian foods for them. But they never provide this sometimes. So the clients need to go out site of the hotel for find the foods for them. This shows that the hospitality industry never give important for their clients. As the conclusion, the hospitality industry provides the good service for their client with their variety service. But still this industry needs to improve their service to archive the target of their industry. if they improve all this the customers will get happy and will enjoy with service. Question 2 2.1: Find out the factors that affecting travel and tourism. Explain in detail? Tourism comprises the activities of persons travelling to and staying in places outsides their usual environment for not more than one consecutive year for leisure, business and other purposes. The word staying suggests that tourists stay at least one night. However must acknowledge that day visitors make a huge contribution to the tourist industry and some regions and organizations choose to include day visitors in statistics. It is acknowledged by the World Tourism Organization that tourism is the fastest growing economic sector, bringing foreign exchange earnings to countries and creating jobs. Jobs are not only created directly in tourism but in related industries, for example in construction. Much tourism development occurs in developing countries, bringing economic opportunities local communities. There are several factors that affecting travel and tourism industry which influence the industry. The first factors that affect this industry are technological factor. Nowadays the technology develops very well. So also develop in travel and tourism. The growth of e-commerce and new transportation affect the travel and tourism industry. Nowadays the travel system develops well for example the buses that use nowadays is full of air-condition service, with video and audio system. Travel and tourism has always been an industry that has made extensive use of new technology equipment. Central reservation system (CRS), the use of computers in travel agencies and sophisticated databases for marketing purposes are now ordinary. Increase in competition within the industry will force organizations to use new technology to the full. New developments in transportation make extensive use of new technology, for example the Channel Tunnel, the advances in aircraft design and opening up new long-hall destinations. Then more develop bus is super VIP bus. This is consisting of all the service to t he passengers. So the passengers can enjoy the traveling period. Furthermore, another factor is, the technology develops until the passengers or the customers can get the information of the travel and tourism industry in internet. The particular agency will update all the information in web so the customers can check easily all the information about their tour and can easily contact to the particular agency. This makes the agency famous among the people because all over the world can access their information and can consider to the particular agency. At the same time also help the customers to get all their information in detail and faster too. Cultural and environmental factors also affect the travel and tourism industry. In the 1980s saw the emergence in Britain of a greater environmental awareness and a society that was beginning to take its health and fitness seriously. These factors are likely to remain important influences on travel and tourism developments in the future with so-called green issues high on the agenda. The political aspect also affects this industry. The security concerns over travel have had a serious impact on the travel and tourism industry. Which are leading to increased business failures in certain situation if the government never invent in this industry. The government must provides all the services to help the industry such as prepare a good road for travel and railway tracks for the rails travel so the travel and tourism industry can easily can safely travel. Then the choice of destination also affects this industry. Most of the customer likes to travel for a famous and enjoyable place. So they must bring out the travel and tourism to a famous popular place, which got a high demand among the people. Then choose of place should be according to the age group. If want to carry on a travel and tourism, must be a place where got a lots of fun and entertainment but if want to carry on for veterans means place should be suitable for them. So they can enjoy the travel with fullest and the affect also will be the positive type. Other than age group category there got other group category also, such as leisure customers, business customers, independent travelers, package holidaymakers. So the travel and tourism must be carrying on according to deferent types customers. Besides that, the rule and regulation also will affect the travel and tourism industry. The travel thats going to carry should be following the all the rules and regulations that the government stated and the particular place stated. So it will never affect the customers of them. For example, if the tourism place stated that cannot brings camera or video inside means they should tell earlier to their customer so they may follow the rules and will not affect the agency also. If not the agency may affected because did not follow the rules and regulation. While the customers also wont respect to the agency. At the end the customers wont support for the particular industry. The travel and tourism that going to carry on also should be suitable for the season. Because the customers are always like to travel to different destination in a different season. So should carry on the correct travel and tourism event at the correct season. If not it will affect alt the industry. The customer may not will support the agency because they are not giving what they want and they wont satisfy with them at all. At last the food and beverage also will affect the industry, even is not a big issue and important in a travel and tourism industry. The foods that they provide to the customers should be good foods which is not expired or spoiled. If not the customer may get anger with their service and will get disappointment with their service. So if a travel and tourism industry wants to be success means, they should consider all the element of the travel and tourism. And must prepare earlier for everything with full of good service for their customers satisfaction. Conclusion http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSbpXEn1MNc3WlR1eNL_Y7lEYmix5zdVH5pPapH0B3n3gHJT1lhAs the conclusion, we have learnt about the meaning of hospitality and the stages of hospitality industry development from traditional to advanced stage and learnt that hospitality management means how to cater for people in a friendly and cheerful manner to enable the guest appreciate in services. Besides that, we have learnt about the meaning and the importance of housekeeping Department in hotel, motel, guest how we have learn about the interdepartmental co-operations among various departments of the hotel and the importance of hotel industry in our society. Furthermore, we also learnt the meaning and types of non-commercial hospitality management and the type of organization that is available. Lastly we have learnt and understood the meaning of the layout in hospitality industry and the necessary and important factors to consider when plan to establish this industry. Bibliography Website address Anon., 2011. Hospitality industry Profs from the American. [Online] Available at: [Accessed on 25 February 2011] Fareeha.,nd. Disadvantage of hotel industry.[Online] Available at: [Accessed on 17 February 2011] Johnston, A., 2010. Definition of hospitality industry. [Online] Available at: [Accessed on 13 March 2011] Anon.,nd. The travel and tourism industry.[Online] Available at: [Accessed on 15 March 2011 Shlotta., 2009. Factors affecting travel and tourism industry. [Online] Available at: [Accessed on 25 February 2011]

Differences between the New England and Chesapeake Colonies Essay examp

The English Settlement in the New World was largely the result of the Age of Exploration. The English started emigrated to the New World around the early 1600s; they settles in regions including the New England and the Chesapeake region and by the 18th century these two regions had developed their own society. These two regions had developed different political, economic and social system in their regions. The political differences were due to who governs the colony. The economic differences were due to the motives of the settlement. The social differences were due to the people who settled there, while the New England emigrated as a family, the Chesapeake emigrated with mostly male. The political difference between the New England and Chesapeake region was that New England government associate more with religious matter than the Chesapeake government. The New England regions included the Massachusetts Bay Colony, the Plymouth colony, the New Hampshire colony, Maine colony, Connecticut colony, and Rhode Island colony. Massachusetts colony for example was governed as a theocracy government. As the first governor of Massachusetts colony once stated in A Model of Christian Charity (Written on board the Arbella on the Atlantic Ocean, 1630),"we shall be as a city upon a hill" a holy commonwealth that could be served as an example community to the rest of the world. The Massachusetts Bay colony placed great importance on religious matters. Only the church member were allowed to vote or held office position. Those who held office position would enforce the law requiring attendance at services. Jamestown, Maryland and the Carolinas were some colonies in the Chesapeake r egions. The governments in these regions were less concerned about... ...ere more concerned about the commonwealth of the people due to their strong sense of community. Chesapeake government placed a harsh rule to ensure the survival of the settlers like the colony of Jamestown. New England had a diverse product due to poor soil and cold weather. They engaged in small scale agriculture, fishing, trading and shipbuilding. The Chesapeake regions had a warmer climate therefore it was more suitable to farm. The economic products that the Chesapeake region produced were tobacco and rice. The New England colonies were more of a community than the Chesapeake colonies. One of the reasons was that the settlers New England emigrated as a family and the Chesapeake emigrants were mostly males with the ambition to find gold and to own a large plantation; this resulted in mostly male population without female to enforce a sense of a real community.

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

annie dillard Pilgrim at Tinker Creek for Richard It ever was, and is, and shall be, ever-living Fire, in measures being kindled and in measures going out. —HERACLITUS Contents Epigraph 1 Heaven and Earth in Jest iii 3 2 Seeing 16 3 Winter 37 4 The Fixed 55 5 Untying the Knot 73 6 The Present 78 7 Spring 105 8 Intricacy 124 9 Flood 149 10 Fecundity 161 11 Stalking 184 12 Nightwatch 209 13 The Horns of the Altar 225 14 Northing 247 15 The Waters of Separation 265 Afterword 278 More Years Afterward 283 About Annie Dillard 285 About the Author Other Books By Annie Dillard Cover CopyrightAbout the Publisher Pilgrim at Tinker Creek 1 Heaven and Earth in Jest I used to have a cat, an old fighting tom, who would jump through the open window by my bed in the middle of the night and land on my chest. I’d half-awaken. He’d stick his skull under my nose and purr, stinking of urine and blood. Some nights he kneaded my bare chest with his front paws, powerfully, arching his b ack, as if sharpening his claws, or pummeling a mother for milk. And some mornings I’d wake in daylight to find my body covered with paw prints in blood; I looked as though I’d been painted with roses.It was hot, so hot the mirror felt warm. I washed before the mirror in a daze, my twisted summer sleep still hung about me like sea kelp. What blood was this, and what roses? It could have been the rose of union, the blood of murder, or the rose of beauty bare and the blood of some unspeakable sacrifice or birth. The sign on my body could have been an emblem or a stain, the keys to the kingdom or the mark of Cain. I never knew. I never 4 / Annie Dillard knew as I washed, and the blood streaked, faded, and finally disappeared, whether I’d purified myself or ruined the blood sign of the passover.We wake, if we ever wake at all, to mystery, rumors of death, beauty, violence†¦. â€Å"Seem like we’re just set down here,† a woman said to me recently, à ¢â‚¬Å"and don’t nobody know why. † These are morning matters, pictures you dream as the final wave heaves you up on the sand to the bright light and drying air. You remember pressure, and a curved sleep you rested against, soft, like a scallop in its shell. But the air hardens your skin; you stand; you leave the lighted shore to explore some dim headland, and soon you’re lost in the leafy interior, intent, remembering nothing.I still think of that old tomcat, mornings, when I wake. Things are tamer now; I sleep with the window shut. The cat and our rites are gone and my life is changed, but the memory remains of something powerful playing over me. I wake expectant, hoping to see a new thing. If I’m lucky I might be jogged awake by a strange bird call. I dress in a hurry, imagining the yard flapping with auks, or flamingos. This morning it was a wood duck, down at the creek. It flew away. I live by a creek, Tinker Creek, in a valley in Virginia’s Blu e Ridge.An anchorite’s hermitage is called an anchor-hold; some anchor-holds were simple sheds clamped to the side of a church like a barnacle to a rock. I think of this house clamped to the side of Tinker Creek as an anchor-hold. It holds me at anchor to the rock bottom of the creek itself and it keeps me steadied in the current, as a sea anchor does, facing the stream of light pouring down. It’s a good place to live; there’s a lot to think about. The creeks—Tinker and Carvin’s—are an active mystery, fresh every minute. Theirs is the mystery of the continuous creation and all Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 5 hat providence implies: the uncertainty of vision, the horror of the fixed, the dissolution of the present, the intricacy of beauty, the pressure of fecundity, the elusiveness of the free, and the flawed nature of perfection. The mountains—Tinker and Brushy, McAfee’s Knob and Dead Man—are a passive mystery, the oldest of all. Theirs is the one simple mystery of creation from nothing, of matter itself, anything at all, the given. Mountains are giant, restful, absorbent. You can heave your spirit into a mountain and the mountain will keep it, folded, and not throw it back as some creeks will.The creeks are the world with all its stimulus and beauty; I live there. But the mountains are home. The wood duck flew away. I caught only a glimpse of something like a bright torpedo that blasted the leaves where it flew. Back at the house I ate a bowl of oatmeal; much later in the day came the long slant of light that means good walking. If the day is fine, any walk will do; it all looks good. Water in particular looks its best, reflecting blue sky in the flat, and chopping it into graveled shallows and white chute and foam in the riffles. On a dark day, or a hazy one, everything’s washed-out and lackluster but the water.It carries its own lights. I set out for the railroad tracks, for the hill the floc ks fly over, for the woods where the white mare lives. But I go to the water. Today is one of those excellent January partly cloudies in which light chooses an unexpected part of the landscape to trick out in gilt, and then shadow sweeps it away. You know you’re alive. You take huge steps, trying to feel the planet’s roundness arc between your feet. Kazantzakis says that when he was young he had a canary and a globe. When he freed the canary, it would perch on the globe and sing.All his life, wandering the earth, he felt as though he had a canary on top of his mind, singing. West of the house, Tinker Creek makes a sharp loop, so 6 / Annie Dillard that the creek is both in back of the house, south of me, and also on the other side of the road, north of me. I like to go north. There the afternoon sun hits the creek just right, deepening the reflected blue and lighting the sides of trees on the banks. Steers from the pasture across the creek come down to drink; I always f lush a rabbit or two there; I sit on a fallen trunk in the shade and watch the squirrels in the sun.There are two separated wooden fences suspended from cables that cross the creek just upstream from my tree-trunk bench. They keep the steers from escaping up or down the creek when they come to drink. Squirrels, the neighborhood children, and I use the downstream fence as a swaying bridge across the creek. But the steers are there today. I sit on the downed tree and watch the black steers slip on the creek bottom. They are all bred beef: beef heart, beef hide, beef hocks. They’re a human product like rayon. They’re like a field of shoes.They have cast-iron shanks and tongues like foam insoles. You can’t see through to their brains as you can with other animals; they have beef fat behind their eyes, beef stew. I cross the fence six feet above the water, walking my hands down the rusty cable and tightroping my feet along the narrow edge of the planks. When I hit th e other bank and terra firma, some steers are bunched in a knot between me and the barbedwire fence I want to cross. So I suddenly rush at them in an enthusiastic sprint, flailing my arms and hollering, â€Å"Lightning! Copperhead! Swedish meatballs! They flee, still in a knot, stumbling across the flat pasture. I stand with the wind on my face. When I slide under a barbed-wire fence, cross a field, and run over a sycamore trunk felled across the water, I’m on a little island shaped like a tear in the middle of Tinker Creek. On one side of the creek is a steep forested bank; the water is swift and deep on that side of the island. On the other side is the level field I walked Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 7 through next to the steers’ pasture; the water between the field and the island is shallow and sluggish.In summer’s low water, flags and bulrushes grow along a series of shallow pools cooled by the lazy current. Water striders patrol the surface film, crayfish hu mp along the silt bottom eating filth, frogs shout and glare, and shiners and small bream hide among roots from the sulky green heron’s eye. I come to this island every month of the year. I walk around it, stopping and staring, or I straddle the sycamore log over the creek, curling my legs out of the water in winter, trying to read. Today I sit on dry grass at the end of the island by the slower side of the creek. I’m drawn to this spot.I come to it as to an oracle; I return to it as a man years later will seek out the battlefield where he lost a leg or an arm. A couple of summers ago I was walking along the edge of the island to see what I could see in the water, and mainly to scare frogs. Frogs have an inelegant way of taking off from invisible positions on the bank just ahead of your feet, in dire panic, emitting a froggy â€Å"Yike! † and splashing into the water. Incredibly, this amused me, and, incredibly, it amuses me still. As I walked along the grassy e dge of the island, I got better and better at seeing frogs both in and out of the water.I learned to recognize, slowing down, the difference in texture of the light reflected from mud bank, water, grass, or frog. Frogs were flying all around me. At the end of the island I noticed a small green frog. He was exactly half in and half out of the water, looking like a schematic diagram of an amphibian, and he didn’t jump. He didn’t jump; I crept closer. At last I knelt on the island’s winter killed grass, lost, dumbstruck, staring at the frog in the creek just four feet away. He was a very small frog with wide, dull eyes. And just as I looked at him, he slowly crumpled and began to sag.The spirit vanished from his eyes as if snuffed. His skin 8 / Annie Dillard emptied and drooped; his very skull seemed to collapse and settle like a kicked tent. He was shrinking before my eyes like a deflating football. I watched the taut, glistening skin on his shoulders ruck, and ru mple, and fall. Soon, part of his skin, formless as a pricked balloon, lay in floating folds like bright scum on top of the water: it was a monstrous and terrifying thing. I gaped bewildered, appalled. An oval shadow hung in the water behind the drained frog; then the shadow glided away. The frog skin bag started to sink.I had read about the giant water bug, but never seen one. â€Å"Giant water bug† is really the name of the creature, which is an enormous, heavy-bodied brown bug. It eats insects, tadpoles, fish, and frogs. Its grasping forelegs are mighty and hooked inward. It seizes a victim with these legs, hugs it tight, and paralyzes it with enzymes injected during a vicious bite. That one bite is the only bite it ever takes. Through the puncture shoot the poisons that dissolve the victim’s muscles and bones and organs—all but the skin—and through it the giant water bug sucks out the victim’s body, reduced to a juice.This event is quite common in warm fresh water. The frog I saw was being sucked by a giant water bug. I had been kneeling on the island grass; when the unrecognizable flap of frog skin settled on the creek bottom, swaying, I stood up and brushed the knees of my pants. I couldn’t catch my breath. Of course, many carnivorous animals devour their prey alive. The usual method seems to be to subdue the victim by downing or grasping it so it can’t flee, then eating it whole or in a series of bloody bites. Frogs eat everything whole, stuffing prey into their mouths with their thumbs.People have seen frogs with their wide jaws so full of live dragonflies they couldn’t close them. Ants don’t even have to catch their prey: in the spring they swarm over newly hatched, featherless birds in the nest and eat them tiny bite by bite. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 9 That it’s rough out there and chancy is no surprise. Every live thing is a survivor on a kind of extended emergency bivouac. But a t the same time we are also created. In the Koran, Allah asks, â€Å"The heaven and the earth and all in between, thinkest thou I made them in jest? † It’s a good question.What do we think of the created universe, spanning an unthinkable void with an unthinkable profusion of forms? Or what do we think of nothingness, those sickening reaches of time in either direction? If the giant water bug was not made in jest, was it then made in earnest? Pascal uses a nice term to describe the notion of the creator’s, once having called forth the universe, turning his back to it: Deus Absconditus. Is this what we think happened? Was the sense of it there, and God absconded with it, ate it, like a wolf who disappears round the edge of the house with the Thanksgiving turkey? God is subtle,† Einstein said, â€Å"but not malicious. † Again, Einstein said that â€Å"nature conceals her mystery by means of her essential grandeur, not by her cunning. † It could be that God has not absconded but spread, as our vision and understanding of the universe have spread, to a fabric of spirit and sense so grand and subtle, so powerful in a new way, that we can only feel blindly of its hem. In making the thick darkness a swaddling band for the sea, God â€Å"set bars and doors† and said, â€Å"Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further. † But have we come even that far?Have we rowed out to the thick darkness, or are we all playing pinochle in the bottom of the boat? Cruelty is a mystery, and the waste of pain. But if we describe a world to compass these things, a world that is a long, brute game, then we bump against another mystery: the inrush of power and light, the canary that sings on the skull. Unless all ages and races of men have been deluded by the same mass hypnotist (who? ), there seems to be such a thing as beauty, a grace wholly gratuitous. About five years ago I saw a mockingbird make a 10 / Annie Dillard traight vertical de scent from the roof gutter of a four-story building. It was an act as careless and spontaneous as the curl of a stem or the kindling of a star. The mockingbird took a single step into the air and dropped. His wings were still folded against his sides as though he were singing from a limb and not falling, accelerating thirty-two feet per second per second, through empty air. Just a breath before he would have been dashed to the ground, he unfurled his wings with exact, deliberate care, revealing the broad bars of white, spread his elegant, white-banded tail, and so floated onto the grass.I had just rounded a corner when his insouciant step caught my eye; there was no one else in sight. The fact of his free fall was like the old philosophical conundrum about the tree that falls in the forest. The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there. Another time I saw another wonder: sharks off the At lantic coast of Florida. There is a way a wave rises above the ocean horizon, a triangular wedge against the sky. If you stand where the ocean breaks on a shallow beach, you see the raised water in a wave is translucent, shot with lights.One late afternoon at low tide a hundred big sharks passed the beach near the mouth of a tidal river in a feeding frenzy. As each green wave rose from the churning water, it illuminated within itself the six-or eight-footlong bodies of twisting sharks. The sharks disappeared as each wave rolled toward me; then a new wave would swell above the horizon, containing in it, like scorpions in amber, sharks that roiled and heaved. The sight held awesome wonders: power and beauty, grace tangled in a rapture with violence. We don’t know what’s going on here. If these tremendous vents are random combinations of matter run amok, the yield of Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 11 millions of monkeys at millions of typewriters, then what is it in us, hammer ed out of those same typewriters, that they ignite? We don’t know. Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery, like the idle, curved tunnels of leaf miners on the face of a leaf. We must somehow take a wider view, look at the whole landscape, really see it, and describe what’s going on here. Then we can at least wail the right question into the swaddling band of darkness, or, if it comes to that, choir the proper praise.At the time of Lewis and Clark, setting the prairies on fire was a well-known signal that meant, â€Å"Come down to the water. † It was an extravagant gesture, but we can’t do less. If the landscape reveals one certainty, it is that the extravagant gesture is the very stuff of creation. After the one extravagant gesture of creation in the first place, the universe has continued to deal exclusively in extravagances, flinging intricacies and colossi down aeons of emptiness, heaping profusions on profligacies with ever-fresh vigor. The whole show has een on fire from the word go. I come down to the water to cool my eyes. But everywhere I look I see fire; that which isn’t flint is tinder, and the whole world sparks and flames. I have come to the grassy island late in the day. The creek is up; icy water sweeps under the sycamore log bridge. The frog skin, of course, is utterly gone. I have stared at that one spot on the creek bottom for so long, focusing past the rush of water, that when I stand, the opposite bank seems to stretch before my eyes and flow grassily upstream.When the bank settles down I cross the sycamore log and enter again the big plowed field next to the steers’ pasture. The wind is terrific out of the west; the sun comes and goes. I can see the shadow on the field before me deepen uniformly and spread like a plague. Everything seems so dull I am 12 / Annie Dillard amazed I can even distinguish objects. And suddenly the light runs across the land like a comber, and up the trees, a nd goes again in a wink: I think I’ve gone blind or died. When it comes again, the light, you hold your breath, and if it stays you forget about it until it goes again.It’s the most beautiful day of the year. At four o’clock the eastern sky is a dead stratus black flecked with low white clouds. The sun in the west illuminates the ground, the mountains, and especially the bare branches of trees, so that everywhere silver trees cut into the black sky like a photographer’s negative of a landscape. The air and the ground are dry; the mountains are going on and off like neon signs. Clouds slide east as if pulled from the horizon, like a tablecloth whipped off a table. The hemlocks by the barbed-wire fence are flinging themselves east as though their backs would break.Purple shadows are racing east; the wind makes me face east, and again I feel the dizzying, drawn sensation I felt when the creek bank reeled. At four-thirty the sky in the east is clear; how coul d that big blackness be blown? Fifteen minutes later another darkness is coming overhead from the northwest; and it’s here. Everything is drained of its light as if sucked. Only at the horizon do inky black mountains give way to distant, lighted mountains—lighted not by direct illumination but rather paled by glowing sheets of mist hung before them. Now the blackness is in the east; verything is half in shadow, half in sun, every clod, tree, mountain, and hedge. I can’t see Tinker Mountain through the line of hemlock, till it comes on like a streetlight, ping, ex nihilo. Its sandstone cliffs pink and swell. Suddenly the light goes; the cliffs recede as if pushed. The sun hits a clump of sycamores between me and the mountains; the sycamore arms light up, and I can’t see the cliffs. They’re gone. The pale network of sycamore arms, which a second ago was transparent as a screen, is suddenly Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 13 opaque, glowing with light.Now t he sycamore arms snuff out, the mountains come on, and there are the cliffs again. I walk home. By five-thirty the show has pulled out. Nothing is left but an unreal blue and a few banked clouds low in the north. Some sort of carnival magician has been here, some fasttalking worker of wonders who has the act backwards. â€Å"Something in this hand,† he says, â€Å"something in this hand, something up my sleeve, something behind my back†¦Ã¢â‚¬  and abracadabra, he snaps his fingers, and it’s all gone. Only the bland, blank-faced magician remains, in his unruffled coat, bare handed, acknowledging a smattering of baffled applause.When you look again the whole show has pulled up stakes and moved on down the road. It never stops. New shows roll in from over the mountains and the magician reappears unannounced from a fold in the curtain you never dreamed was an opening. Scarves of clouds, rabbits in plain view, disappear into the black hat forever. Presto chango. The audience, if there is an audience at all, is dizzy from head-turning, dazed. Like the bear who went over the mountain, I went out to see what I could see. And, I might as well warn you, like the bear, all that I could see was the other side of the mountain: more of same.On a good day I might catch a glimpse of another wooded ridge rolling under the sun like water, another bivouac. I propose to keep here what Thoreau called â€Å"a meteorological journal of the mind,† telling some tales and describing some of the sights of this rather tamed valley, and exploring, in fear and trembling, some of the unmapped dim reaches and unholy fastnesses to which those tales and sights so dizzyingly lead. I am no scientist. I explore the neighborhood. An infant who has just learned to hold his head up has a frank and forthright way of gazing about him in bewilderment.He hasn’t the 14 / Annie Dillard faintest clue where he is, and he aims to learn. In a couple of years, what he will ha ve learned instead is how to fake it: he’ll have the cocksure air of a squatter who has come to feel he owns the place. Some unwonted, taught pride diverts us from our original intent, which is to explore the neighborhood, view the landscape, to discover at least where it is that we have been so startlingly set down, if we can’t learn why. So I think about the valley. It is my leisure as well as my work, a game.It is a fierce game I have joined because it is being played anyway, a game of both skill and chance, played against an unseen adversary—the conditions of time—in which the payoffs, which may suddenly arrive in a blast of light at any moment, might as well come to me as anyone else. I stake the time I’m grateful to have, the energies I’m glad to direct. I risk getting stuck on the board, so to speak, unable to move in any direction, which happens enough, God knows; and I risk the searing, exhausting nightmares that plunder rest and fo rce me face down all night long in some muddy ditch seething with hatching insects and crustaceans.But if I can bear the nights, the days are a pleasure. I walk out; I see something, some event that would otherwise have been utterly missed and lost; or something sees me, some enormous power brushes me with its clean wing, and I resound like a beaten bell. I am an explorer, then, and I am also a stalker, or the instrument of the hunt itself. Certain Indians used to carve long grooves along the wooden shafts of their arrows. They called the grooves â€Å"lightning marks,† because they resembled the curved fissure lightning slices down the trunks of trees.The function of lightning marks is this: if the arrow fails to kill the game, blood from a deep wound will channel along the lightning mark, streak down the arrow shaft, and spatter to the ground, laying a trail Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 15 dripped on broad-leaves, on stones, that the barefoot and trembling archer can follow in to whatever deep or rare wilderness it leads. I am the arrow shaft, carved along my length by unexpected lights and gashes from the very sky, and this book is the straying trail of blood. Something pummels us, something barely sheathed. Power broods and lights.We’re played on like a pipe; our breath is not our own. James Houston describes two young Eskimo girls sitting cross-legged on the ground, mouth on mouth, blowing by turns each other’s throat cords, making a low, unearthly music. When I cross again the bridge that is really the steers’ fence, the wind has thinned to the delicate air of twilight; it crumples the water’s skin. I watch the running sheets of light raised on the creek’s surface. The sight has the appeal of the purely passive, like the racing of light under clouds on a field, the beautiful dream at the moment of being dreamed.The breeze is the merest puff, but you yourself sail headlong and breathless under the gale force of the sp irit. 2 Seeing When I was six or seven years old, growing up in Pittsburgh, I used to take a precious penny of my own and hide it for someone else to find. It was a curious compulsion; sadly, I’ve never been seized by it since. For some reason I always â€Å"hid† the penny along the same stretch of sidewalk up the street. I would cradle it at the roots of a sycamore, say, or in a hole left by a chipped-off piece of sidewalk.Then I would take a piece of chalk, and, starting at either end of the block, draw huge arrows leading up to the penny from both directions. After I learned to write I labeled the arrows: SURPRISE AHEAD or MONEY THIS WAY. I was greatly excited, during all this arrow-drawing, at the thought of the first lucky passer-by who would receive in this way, regardless of merit, a free gift from the universe. But I never lurked about. I would go straight home and not give the matter another thought, until, some months later, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 17 I wou ld be gripped again by the impulse to hide another penny.It is still the first week in January, and I’ve got great plans. I’ve been thinking about seeing. There are lots of things to see, unwrapped gifts and free surprises. The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But—and this is the point—who gets excited by a mere penny? If you follow one arrow, if you crouch motionless on a bank to watch a tremulous ripple thrill on the water and are rewarded by the sight of a muskrat kit paddling from its den, will you count that sight of a chip of copper only, and go your rueful way?It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won’t stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get. I used to be able to see flying insects in the air. I’d look ahead and see, not the row of hemlocks across the road, but the air in front of it. My eyes would focus along that column of air, picking out flying insects.But I lost interest, I guess, for I dropped the habit. Now I can see birds. Probably some people can look at the grass at their feet and discover all the crawling creatures. I would like to know grasses and sedges—and care. Then my least journey into the world would be a field trip, a series of happy recognitions. Thoreau, in an expansive mood, exulted, â€Å"What a rich book might be made about buds, including, perhaps, sprouts! † It would be nice to think so. I cherish mental images I have of three perfectly happy people. One collects stones.Another—an Englishman, say—watches clouds. The third lives on a coast and collects drops of seawater which 18 / Annie Dillard he examines microscopically an d mounts. But I don’t see what the specialist sees, and so I cut myself off, not only from the total picture, but from the various forms of happiness. Unfortunately, nature is very much a now-you-see-it, now-youdon’t affair. A fish flashes, then dissolves in the water before my eyes like so much salt. Deer apparently ascend bodily into heaven; the brightest oriole fades into leaves.These disappearances stun me into stillness and concentration; they say of nature that it conceals with a grand nonchalance, and they say of vision that it is a deliberate gift, the revelation of a dancer who for my eyes only flings away her seven veils. For nature does reveal as well as conceal: now-you-don’t-see-it, now-you-do. For a week last September migrating red-winged blackbirds were feeding heavily down by the creek at the back of the house. One day I went out to investigate the racket; I walked up to a tree, an Osage orange, and a hundred birds flew away.They simply material ized out of the tree. I saw a tree, then a whisk of color, then a tree again. I walked closer and another hundred blackbirds took flight. Not a branch, not a twig budged: the birds were apparently weightless as well as invisible. Or, it was as if the leaves of the Osage orange had been freed from a spell in the form of red-winged blackbirds; they flew from the tree, caught my eye in the sky, and vanished. When I looked again at the tree the leaves had reassembled as if nothing had happened.Finally I walked directly to the trunk of the tree and a final hundred, the real diehards, appeared, spread, and vanished. How could so many hide in the tree without my seeing them? The Osage orange, unruffled, looked just as it had looked from the house, when three hundred red-winged blackbirds cried from its crown. I looked downstream where they flew, and they were gone. Searching, I couldn’t spot one. I wandered downstream to force them to play their hand, but they’d crossed the c reek and scattered. One show to a Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 19 customer.These appearances catch at my throat; they are the free gifts, the bright coppers at the roots of trees. It’s all a matter of keeping my eyes open. Nature is like one of those line drawings of a tree that are puzzles for children: Can you find hidden in the leaves a duck, a house, a boy, a bucket, a zebra, and a boot? Specialists can find the most incredibly wellhidden things. A book I read when I was young recommended an easy way to find caterpillars to rear: you simply find some fresh caterpillar droppings, look up, and there’s your caterpillar.More recently an author advised me to set my mind at ease about those piles of cut stems on the ground in grassy fields. Field mice make them; they cut the grass down by degrees to reach the seeds at the head. It seems that when the grass is tightly packed, as in a field of ripe grain, the blade won’t topple at a single cut through the stem; instead , the cut stem simply drops vertically, held in the crush of grain. The mouse severs the bottom again and again, the stem keeps dropping an inch at a time, and finally the head is low enough for the mouse to reach the seeds.Meanwhile, the mouse is positively littering the field with its little piles of cut stems into which, presumably, the author of the book is constantly stumbling. If I can’t see these minutiae, I still try to keep my eyes open. I’m always on the lookout for antlion traps in sandy soil, monarch pupae near milkweed, skipper larvae in locust leaves. These things are utterly common, and I’ve not seen one. I bang on hollow trees near water, but so far no flying squirrels have appeared. In flat country I watch every sunset in hopes of seeing the green ray.The green ray is a seldom-seen streak of light that rises from the sun like a spurting fountain at the moment of sunset; it throbs into the sky for two seconds and disappears. One more reason to ke ep my eyes open. A photography professor at the University of Florida just happened to 20 / Annie Dillard see a bird die in midflight; it jerked, died, dropped, and smashed on the ground. I squint at the wind because I read Stewart Edward White: â€Å"I have always maintained that if you looked closely enough you could see the wind—the dim, hardly-made-out, fine debris fleeing high in the air. White was an excellent observer, and devoted an entire chapter of The Mountains to the subject of seeing deer: â€Å"As soon as you can forget the naturally obvious and construct an artificial obvious, then you too will see deer. † But the artificial obvious is hard to see. My eyes account for less than one percent of the weight of my head; I’m bony and dense; I see what I expect. I once spent a full three minutes looking at a bullfrog that was so unexpectedly large I couldn’t see it even though a dozen enthusiastic campers were shouting directions.Finally I asked, â€Å"What color am I looking for? † and a fellow said, â€Å"Green. † When at last I picked out the frog, I saw what painters are up against: the thing wasn’t green at all, but the color of wet hickory bark. The lover can see, and the knowledgeable. I visited an aunt and uncle at a quarter-horse ranch in Cody, Wyoming. I couldn’t do much of anything useful, but I could, I thought, draw. So, as we all sat around the kitchen table after supper, I produced a sheet of paper and drew a horse. â€Å"That’s one lame horse,† my aunt volunteered.The rest of the family joined in: â€Å"Only place to saddle that one is his neck†; â€Å"Looks like we better shoot the poor thing, on account of those terrible growths. † Meekly, I slid the pencil and paper down the table. Everyone in that family, including my three young cousins, could draw a horse. Beautifully. When the paper came back it looked as though five shining, real quarter horses had been corralled by mistake with a papier-mache moose; the real horses seemed to gaze at the monster with a steady, puzzled air. I stay away from horses now, but I can do a Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 21 creditable goldfish.The point is that I just don’t know what the lover knows; I just can’t see the artificial obvious that those in the know construct. The herpetologist asks the native, â€Å"Are there snakes in that ravine? † â€Å"Nosir. † And the herpetologist comes home with, yessir, three bags full. Are there butterflies on that mountain? Are the bluets in bloom, are there arrowheads here, or fossil shells in the shale? Peeping through my keyhole I see within the range of only about thirty percent of the light that comes from the sun; the rest is infrared and some little ultraviolet, perfectly apparent to many animals, but invisible to me.A nightmare network of ganglia, charged and firing without my knowledge, cuts and splices what I do see, editing it for my brain. Donald E. Carr points out that the sense impressions of one-celled animals are not edited for the brain: â€Å"This is philosophically interesting in a rather mournful way, since it means that only the simplest animals perceive the universe as it is. † A fog that won’t burn away drifts and flows across my field of vision. When you see fog move against a backdrop of deep pines, you don’t see the fog itself, but streaks of clearness floating across the air in dark shreds.So I see only tatters of clearness through a pervading obscurity. I can’t distinguish the fog from the overcast sky; I can’t be sure if the light is direct or reflected. Everywhere darkness and the presence of the unseen appalls. We estimate now that only one atom dances alone in every cubic meter of intergalactic space. I blink and squint. What planet or power yanks Halley’s Comet out of orbit? We haven’t seen that force yet; it’s a question of distance, density, and the pallor of reflected light. We rock, cradled in the swaddling band of darkness.Even the simple darkness of night whispers suggestions to the mind. Last summer, in August, I stayed at the creek too late. 22 / Annie Dillard Where Tinker Creek flows under the sycamore log bridge to the tear-shaped island, it is slow and shallow, fringed thinly in cattail marsh. At this spot an astonishing bloom of life supports vast breeding populations of insects, fish, reptiles, birds, and mammals. On windless summer evenings I stalk along the creek bank or straddle the sycamore log in absolute stillness, watching for muskrats.The night I stayed too late I was hunched on the log staring spellbound at spreading, reflected stains of lilac on the water. A cloud in the sky suddenly lighted as if turned on by a switch; its reflection just as suddenly materialized on the water upstream, flat and floating, so that I couldn’t see the creek bottom, or life in the water under the cloud. Downstream, away from the cloud on the water, water turtles smooth as beans were gliding down with the current in a series of easy, weightless push-offs, as men bound on the moon.I didn’t know whether to trace the progress of one turtle I was sure of, risking sticking my face in one of the bridge’s spiderwebs made invisible by the gathering dark, or take a chance on seeing the carp, or scan the mud bank in hope of seeing a muskrat, or follow the last of the swallows who caught at my heart and trailed it after them like streamers as they appeared from directly below, under the log, flying upstream with their tails forked, so fast. But shadows spread, and deepened, and stayed. After thousands of years we’re still strangers to darkness, fearful aliens in an enemy camp with our arms crossed over our chests.I stirred. A land turtle on the bank, startled, hissed the air from its lungs and withdrew into its shell. An uneasy pink here, an unfathomable blue th ere, gave great suggestion of lurking beings. Things were going on. I couldn’t see whether that sere rustle I heard was a distant rattlesnake, slit-eyed, or a nearby sparrow kicking in the dry flood debris slung at the foot of a willow. Tremendous action Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 23 roiled the water everywhere I looked, big action, inexplicable. A tremor welled up beside a gaping muskrat burrow in the bank and I caught my breath, but no muskrat appeared.The ripples continued to fan upstream with a steady, powerful thrust. Night was knitting over my face an eyeless mask, and I still sat transfixed. A distant airplane, a delta wing out of nightmare, made a gliding shadow on the creek’s bottom that looked like a stingray cruising upstream. At once a black fin slit the pink cloud on the water, shearing it in two. The two halves merged together and seemed to dissolve before my eyes. Darkness pooled in the cleft of the creek and rose, as water collects in a well. Untamed, dr eaming lights flickered over the sky. I saw hints of hulking underwater shadows, two pale splashes out of the water, and ound ripples rolling close together from a blackened center. At last I stared upstream where only the deepest violet remained of the cloud, a cloud so high its underbelly still glowed feeble color reflected from a hidden sky lighted in turn by a sun halfway to China. And out of that violet, a sudden enormous black body arced over the water. I saw only a cylindrical sleekness. Head and tail, if there was a head and tail, were both submerged in cloud. I saw only one ebony fling, a headlong dive to darkness; then the waters closed, and the lights went out. I walked home in a shivering daze, up hill and down.Later I lay open-mouthed in bed, my arms flung wide at my sides to steady the whirling darkness. At this latitude I’m spinning 836 miles an hour round the earth’s axis; I often fancy I feel my sweeping fall as a breakneck arc like the dive of dolphin s, and the hollow rushing of wind raises hair on my neck and the side of my face. In orbit around the sun I’m moving 64,800 miles an hour. The solar system as a whole, like a merry-go-round unhinged, spins, bobs, and blinks at the speed of 43,200 miles an hour along a course set east of Hercules. Someone has 24 / Annie Dillard iped, and we are dancing a tarantella until the sweat pours. I open my eyes and I see dark, muscled forms curl out of water, with flapping gills and flattened eyes. I close my eyes and I see stars, deep stars giving way to deeper stars, deeper stars bowing to deepest stars at the crown of an infinite cone. â€Å"Still,† wrote van Gogh in a letter, â€Å"a great deal of light falls on everything. † If we are blinded by darkness, we are also blinded by light. When too much light falls on everything, a special terror results. Peter Freuchen describes the notorious kayak sickness to which Greenland Eskimos are prone. The Greenland fjords are p eculiar for the spells of completely quiet weather, when there is not enough wind to blow out a match and the water is like a sheet of glass. The kayak hunter must sit in his boat without stirring a finger so as not to scare the shy seals away†¦. The sun, low in the sky, sends a glare into his eyes, and the landscape around moves into the realm of the unreal. The reflex from the mirrorlike water hypnotizes him, he seems to be unable to move, and all of a sudden it is as if he were floating in a bottomless void, sinking, sinking, and sinking†¦.Horror-stricken, he tries to stir, to cry out, but he cannot, he is completely paralyzed, he just falls and falls. † Some hunters are especially cursed with this panic, and bring ruin and sometimes starvation to their families. Sometimes here in Virginia at sunset low clouds on the southern or northern horizon are completely invisible in the lighted sky. I only know one is there because I can see its reflection in still water. T he first time I discovered this mystery I looked from cloud to no-cloud in bewilderment, checking my bearings over and over, thinking maybe the ark of the covenant was just passing by south of Dead Man Mountain.Only much later did I read the explanation: polarized light from the sky is very much weakened by reflection, but the light Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 25 in clouds isn’t polarized. So invisible clouds pass among visible clouds, till all slide over the mountains; so a greater light extinguishes a lesser as though it didn’t exist. In the great meteor shower of August, the Perseid, I wail all day for the shooting stars I miss. They’re out there showering down, committing hara-kiri in a flame of fatal attraction, and hissing perhaps at last into the ocean.But at dawn what looks like a blue dome clamps down over me like a lid on a pot. The stars and planets could smash and I’d never know. Only a piece of ashen moon occasionally climbs up or down the insi de of the dome, and our local star without surcease explodes on our heads. We have really only that one light, one source for all power, and yet we must turn away from it by universal decree. Nobody here on the planet seems aware of this strange, powerful taboo, that we all walk about carefully averting our faces, this way and that, lest our eyes be blasted forever.Darkness appalls and light dazzles; the scrap of visible light that doesn’t hurt my eyes hurts my brain. What I see sets me swaying. Size and distance and the sudden swelling of meanings confuse me, bowl me over. I straddle the sycamore log bridge over Tinker Creek in the summer. I look at the lighted creek bottom: snail tracks tunnel the mud in quavering curves. A crayfish jerks, but by the time I absorb what has happened, he’s gone in a billowing smokescreen of silt. I look at the water: minnows and shiners. If I’m thinking minnows, a carp will fill my brain till I scream.I look at the water’ s surface: skaters, bubbles, and leaves sliding down. Suddenly, my own face, reflected, startles me witless. Those snails have been tracking my face! Finally, with a shuddering wrench of the will, I see clouds, cirrus clouds. I’m dizzy, I fall in. This looking business is risky. Once I stood on a humped rock on nearby Purgatory Mountain, watching through binoculars the great autumn 26 / Annie Dillard hawk migration below, until I discovered that I was in danger of joining the hawks on a vertical migration of my own.I was used to binoculars, but not, apparently, to balancing on humped rocks while looking through them. I staggered. Everything advanced and receded by turns; the world was full of unexplained foreshortenings and depths. A distant huge tan object, a hawk the size of an elephant, turned out to be the browned bough of a nearby loblolly pine. I followed a sharp-shinned hawk against a featureless sky, rotating my head unawares as it flew, and when I lowered the glass a glimpse of my own looming shoulder sent me staggering. What prevents the men on Palomar from falling, voiceless and blinded, from their tiny, vaulted chairs?I reel in confusion; I don’t understand what I see. With the naked eye I can see two million light-years to the Andromeda galaxy. Often I slop some creek water in a jar and when I get home I dump it in a white china bowl. After the silt settles I return and see tracings of minute snails on the bottom, a planarian or two winding round the rim of water, roundworms shimmying frantically, and finally, when my eyes have adjusted to these dimensions, amoebae. At first the amoebae look like muscae volitantes, those curled moving spots you seem to see in your eyes when you stare at a distant wall.Then I see the amoebae as drops of water congealed, bluish, translucent, like chips of sky in the bowl. At length I choose one individual and give myself over to its idea of an evening. I see it dribble a grainy foot before it on its we t, unfathomable way. Do its unedited sense impressions include the fierce focus of my eyes? Shall I take it outside and show it Andromeda, and blow its little endoplasm? I stir the water with a finger, in case it’s running out of oxygen. Maybe I should get a tropical aquarium with motorized bubblers and lights, and keep this one for aPilgrim at Tinker Creek / 27 pet. Yes, it would tell its fissioned descendants, the universe is two feet by five, and if you listen closely you can hear the buzzing music of the spheres. Oh, it’s mysterious lamplit evenings, here in the galaxy, one after the other. It’s one of those nights when I wander from window to window, looking for a sign. But I can’t see. Terror and a beauty insoluble are a ribband of blue woven into the fringes of garments of things both great and small. No culture explains, no bivouac offers real haven or rest. But it could be that we are not seeing something.Galileo thought comets were an optical il lusion. This is fertile ground: since we are certain that they’re not, we can look at what our scientists have been saying with fresh hope. What if there are really gleaming, castellated cities hung upsidedown over the desert sand? What limpid lakes and cool date palms have our caravans always passed untried? Until, one by one, by the blindest of leaps, we light on the road to these places, we must stumble in darkness and hunger. I turn from the window. I’m blind as a bat, sensing only from every direction the echo of my own thin cries.I chanced on a wonderful book by Marius von Senden, called Space and Sight. When Western surgeons discovered how to perform safe cataract operations, they ranged across Europe and America operating on dozens of men and women of all ages who had been blinded by cataracts since birth. Von Senden collected accounts of such cases; the histories are fascinating. Many doctors had tested their patients’ sense perceptions and ideas of spa ce both before and after the operations. The vast majority of patients, of both sexes and all ages, had, in von Senden’s opinion, no idea of space whatsoever.Form, distance, and size were so many meaningless syllables. A patient â€Å"had no idea of depth, confusing it with roundness. † Before 28 / Annie Dillard the operation a doctor would give a blind patient a cube and a sphere; the patient would tongue it or feel it with his hands, and name it correctly. After the operation the doctor would show the same objects to the patient without letting him touch them; now he had no clue whatsoever what he was seeing. One patient called lemonade â€Å"square† because it pricked on his tongue as a square shape pricked on the touch of his hands.Of another postoperative patient, the doctor writes, â€Å"I have found in her no notion of size, for example, not even within the narrow limits which she might have encompassed with the aid of touch. Thus when I asked her to sho w me how big her mother was, she did not stretch out her hands, but set her two index-fingers a few inches apart. † Other doctors reported their patients' own statements to similar effect. â€Å"The room he was in†¦he knew to be but part of the house, yet he could not conceive that the whole house could look bigger† â€Å"Those who are blind from birth†¦have no real conception of height or distance.A house that is a mile away is thought of as nearby, but requiring the taking of a lot of steps†¦. The elevator that whizzes him up and down gives no more sense of vertical distance than does the train of horizontal. † For the newly sighted, vision is pure sensation unencumbered by meaning: â€Å"The girl went through the experience that we all go through and forget, the moment we are born. She saw, but it did not mean anything but a lot of different kinds of brightness. † Again, â€Å"I asked the patient what he could see; he answered that he sa w an extensive field of light, in which everything appeared dull, confused, and in motion.He could not distinguish objects. † Another patient saw â€Å"nothing but a confusion of forms and colors. † When a newly sighted girl saw photographs and paintings, she asked, â€Å"‘Why do they put those dark marks all over them? ’ ‘Those aren’t dark marks,’ her mother explained, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 29 ‘those are shadows. That is one of the ways the eye knows that things have shape. If it were not for shadows many things would look flat. ’ ‘Well, that’s how things do look,’ Joan answered. ‘Everything looks flat with dark patches. ’† But it is the patients’ concepts of space that are most revealing.One patient, according to his doctor, â€Å"practiced his vision in a strange fashion; thus he takes off one of his boots, throws it some way off in front of him, and then attempts to gau ge the distance at which it lies; he takes a few steps towards the boot and tries to grasp it; on failing to reach it, he moves on a step or two and gropes for the boot until he finally gets hold of it. † â€Å"But even at this stage, after three weeks’ experience of seeing,† von Senden goes on, â€Å"‘space,’ as he conceives it, ends with visual space, i. e. with color-patches that happen to bound his view.He does not yet have the notion that a larger object (a chair) can mask a smaller one (a dog), or that the latter can still be present even though it is not directly seen. † In general the newly sighted see the world as a dazzle of colorpatches. They are pleased by the sensation of color, and learn quickly to name the colors, but the rest of seeing is tormentingly difficult. Soon after his operation a patient â€Å"generally bumps into one of these color-patches and observes them to be substantial, since they resist him as tactual objects do.In walking about it also strikes him—or can if he pays attention—that he is continually passing in between the colors he sees, that he can go past a visual object, that a part of it then steadily disappears from view; and that in spite of this, however he twists and turns—whether entering the room from the door, for example, or returning back to it—he always has a visual space in front of him. Thus he gradually comes to realize that there is also a space behind him, which he does not see. † The mental effort involved in these reasonings proves over- 0 / Annie Dillard whelming for many patients. It oppresses them to realize, if they ever do at all, the tremendous size of the world, which they had previously conceived of as something touchingly manageable. It oppresses them to realize that they have been visible to people all along, perhaps unattractively so, without their knowledge or consent. A disheartening number of them refuse to use their new vision, continuing to go over objects with their tongues, and lapsing into apathy and despair. â€Å"The child can see, but will not make use of his sight.Only when pressed can he with difficulty be brought to look at objects in his neighborhood; but more than a foot away it is impossible to bestir him to the necessary effort. † Of a twenty-one-year-old girl, the doctor relates, â€Å"Her unfortunate father, who had hoped for so much from this operation, wrote that his daughter carefully shuts her eyes whenever she wishes to go about the house, especially when she comes to a staircase, and that she is never happier or more at ease than when, by closing her eyelids, she relapses into her former state of total blindness. A fifteen-year-old boy, who was also in love with a girl at the asylum for the blind, finally blurted out, â€Å"No, really, I can’t stand it anymore; I want to be sent back to the asylum again. If things aren’t altered, I’ll tear my eye s out. † Some do learn to see, especially the young ones. But it changes their lives. One doctor comments on â€Å"the rapid and complete loss of that striking and wonderful serenity which is characteristic only of those who have never yet seen. † A blind man who learns to see is ashamed of his old habits. He dresses up, grooms himself, and tries to make a good impression.While he was blind he was indifferent to objects unless they were edible; now, â€Å"a sifting of values sets in†¦his thoughts and wishes are mightily stirred and some few of the patients are thereby led into dissimulation, envy, theft and fraud. † On the other hand, many newly sighted people speak well of Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 31 the world, and teach us how dull is our own vision. To one patient, a human hand, unrecognized, is â€Å"something bright and then holes. † Shown a bunch of grapes, a boy calls out, â€Å"It is dark, blue and shiny†¦. It isn’t smooth, it ha s bumps and hollows. A little girl visits a garden. â€Å"She is greatly astonished, and can scarcely be persuaded to answer, stands speechless in front of the tree, which she only names on taking hold of it, and then as ‘the tree with the lights in it. ’† Some delight in their sight and give themselves over to the visual world. Of a patient just after her bandages were removed, her doctor writes, â€Å"The first things to attract her attention were her own hands; she looked at them very closely, moved them repeatedly to and fro, bent and stretched the fingers, and seemed greatly astonished at the sight. One girl was eager to tell her blind friend that â€Å"men do not really look like trees at all,† and astounded to discover that her every visitor had an utterly different face. Finally, a twenty-two-old girl was dazzled by the world’s brightness and kept her eyes shut for two weeks. When at the end of that time she opened her eyes again, she did n ot recognize any objects, but, â€Å"the more she now directed her gaze upon everything about her, the more it could be seen how an expression of gratification and astonishment overspread her features; she repeatedly exclaimed: ‘Oh God!How beautiful! ’† I saw color-patches for weeks after I read this wonderful book. It was summer; the peaches were ripe in the valley orchards. When I woke in the morning, color-patches wrapped round my eyes, intricately, leaving not one unfilled spot. All day long I walked among shifting color-patches that parted before me like the Red Sea and closed again in silence, transfigured, wherever I looked back. Some patches swelled and loomed, while others vanished utterly, and dark marks flitted at random 32 / Annie Dillard over the whole dazzling sweep.But I couldn’t sustain the illusion of flatness. I’ve been around for too long. Form is condemned to an eternal danse macabre with meaning: I couldn’t unpeach the pe aches. Nor can I remember ever having seen without understanding; the color-patches of infancy are lost. My brain then must have been smooth as any balloon. I’m told I reached for the moon; many babies do. But the color-patches of infancy swelled as meaning filled them; they arrayed themselves in solemn ranks down distance which unrolled and stretched before me like a plain. The moon rocketed away.I live now in a world of shadows that shape and distance color, a world where space makes a kind of terrible sense. What gnosticism is this, and what physics? The fluttering patch I saw in my nursery window—silver and green and shape-shifting blue—is gone; a row of Lombardy poplars takes its place, mute, across the distant lawn. That humming oblong creature pale as light that stole along the walls of my room at night, stretching exhilaratingly around the corners, is gone, too, gone the night I ate of the bittersweet fruit, put two and two together and puckered forever my brain.Martin Buber tells this tale: â€Å"Rabbi Mendel once boasted to his teacher Rabbi Elimelekh that evenings he saw the angel who rolls away the light before the darkness, and mornings the angel who rolls away the darkness before the light. ‘Yes,’ said Rabbi Elimelekh, ‘in my youth I saw that too. Later on you don’t see these things anymore. †Ã¢â‚¬â„¢ Why didn’t someone hand those newly sighted people paints and brushes from the start, when they still didn’t know what anything was? Then maybe we all could see color-patches too, the world unraveled from reason, Eden before Adam gave names.The scales would drop from my eyes; I’d see trees like men walking; I’d run down the road against all orders, hallooing and leaping. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 33 Seeing is of course very much a matter of verbalization. Unless I call my attention to what passes before my eyes, I simply won’t see it. It is, as Ruskin says, â₠¬Å"not merely unnoticed, but in the full, clear sense of the word, unseen. † My eyes alone can’t solve analogy tests using figures, the ones which show, with increasing elaborations, a big square, then a small square in a big square, then a big triangle, and expect me to find a small triangle in a big triangle.I have to say the words, describe what I’m seeing. If Tinker Mountain erupted, I’d be likely to notice. But if I want to notice the lesser cataclysms of valley life, I have to maintain in my head a running description of the present. It’s not that I’m observant; it’s just that I talk too much. Otherwise, especially in a strange place, I’ll never know what’s happening. Like a blind man at the ball game, I need a radio. When I see this way I analyze and pry. I hurl over logs and roll away stones; I study the bank a square foot at a time, probing and tilting my head. Some ays when a mist covers the mountains, when the muskrats won’t show and the microscope’s mirror shatters, I want to climb up the blank blue dome as a man would storm the inside of a circus tent, wildly, dangling, and with a steel knife claw a rent in the top, peep, and, if I must, fall. But there is another kind of seeing that involves a letting go. When I see this way I sway transfixed and emptied. The difference between the two ways of seeing is the difference between walking with and without a camera. When I walk with a camera I walk from shot to shot, reading the light on a calibrated meter.When I walk without a camera, my own shutter opens, and the moment’s light prints on my own silver gut. When I see this second way I am above all an unscrupulous observer. 34 / Annie Dillard It was sunny one evening last summer at Tinker Creek; the sun was low in the sky, upstream. I was sitting on the sycamore log bridge with the sunset at my back, watching the shiners the size of minnows who were feeding over the mud dy sand in skittery schools. Again and again, one fish, then another, turned for a split second across the current and flash! the sun shot out from its silver side. I couldn’t watch for it.It was always just happening somewhere else, and it drew my vision just as it disappeared: flash, like a sudden dazzle of the thinnest blade, a sparking over a dun and olive ground at chance intervals from every direction. Then I noticed white specks, some sort of pale petals, small, floating from under my feet on the creek’s surface, very slow and steady. So I blurred my eyes and gazed towards the brim of my hat and saw a new world. I saw the pale white circles roll up, roll up, like the world’s turning, mute and perfect, and I saw the linear flashes, gleaming silver, like stars being born at random down a rolling scroll of time.Something broke and something opened. I filled up like a new wineskin. I breathed an air like light; I saw a light like water. I was the lip of a fou ntain the creek filled forever; I was ether, the leaf in the zephyr; I was flesh-flake, feather, bone. When I see this way I see truly. As Thoreau says, I return to my senses. I am the man who watches the baseball game in silence in an empty stadium. I see the game purely; I’m abstracted and dazed. When it’s all over and the white-suited players lope off the green field to their shadowed dugouts, I leap to my feet; I cheer and cheer. But I can’t go out and try to see this way.I’ll fail, I’ll go mad. All I can do is try to gag the commentator, to hush the noise of useless interior babble that keeps me from seeing just as surely as a newspaper dangled before my eyes. The effort is really a Pilgrim at Tinker Creek / 35 discipline requiring a lifetime of dedicated struggle; it marks the literature of saints and monks of every order East and West, under every rule and no rule, discalced and shod. The world’s spiritual geniuses seem to discover un iversally that the mind’s muddy river, this ceaseless flow of trivia and trash, cannot be dammed, and that trying to dam it is a waste of effort that might lead to madness.Instead you must allow the muddy river to flow unheeded in the dim channels of consciousness; you raise your sights; you look along it, mildly, acknowledging its presence without interest and gazing beyond it into the realm of the real where subjects and objects act and rest purely, without utterance. â€Å"Launch into the deep,† says Jacques Ellul, â€Å"and you shall see. † The secret of seeing is, then, the pearl of great price. If I thought he could teach me to find it and keep it forever I would stagger barefoot across a hundred deserts after any lunatic at all.

Why Political Polarization Has Gone Wild Example

Why Political Polarization Has Gone Wild Example Why Political Polarization Has Gone Wild – Coursework Example Memorandum July 25, Daily Editor RE: Political Polarization in the Media Polarization from both sides of the political spectrum has reached what some believe is a critical mass of uncompromising purists. Fareed Zakaria cites a number of examples present both in the government and among activitists that support the observation of increasing polarization between liberals and conservatives1.One of these examples is non-partisan redistricting, which is a theory that if districts in the House are changed such that each party has safe seats, there will be less polarization between the parties on Capitol Hill. Unfortunately, political polarization happens moreso on radio waves and in town hall meetings.One might argue that we should all be disappointed without politicians for pandering, but ultimately, in a democracy, our politicians are representatives of the people. It is not the politicians who cause their supporters to be more extreme; rather, it is the other way around. There is a reas on why the people who elect Congressmen to their seats are called â€Å"the base.†Without 24-hour media, there would not be such an extreme response to certain policy discussions and, in turn, our politicians would not be driven to such extreme rhetoric on the House floor, if they knew no one was paying attention. But a constant attention to the activities and ideologies of our politicians encourages them, out of a desire to keep their jobs, to pander to their base.The media, including newspapers, play a key role in this. By focusing solely on the extreme elements in order to keep people reading and watching, the media feeds a consumer demand for polarized politics: a soap opera playing out on the evening news. This is what Fareed Zakaria refers to as â€Å"narrowcast†. Certain radio programs and news networks come to be read only by individuals with particular ideological dispositions. Instead of appealing to a general audience with objective information, media twists information in a way that they can sell the best.So, how does a media institution like a newspaper play a role in fixing excessively adversarial politics? It can start by taking the facts of reality and presenting them to the whole world in an objective and socially responsible way. Rather than focusing on the small dramas of political debates, a newspaper can present the whole picture and allow its readers to decide. The media plays a crucial role in keeping voters informed in our democracy. If the media defaults on its responsibility, then our system of governance will not be far behind.

The Alliance Defense Fund Essay

The Alliance Defense Fund Essay The Alliance Defense Fund Essay Those who are suing say that hours after the president's announcement, the rule was finalized in its original form. "The administration's so-called compromise is inadequate. Legally, it does not exist," said Gregory Baylor, senior counsel for the Alliance Defense Fund, who is representing Geneva. "If it happens, we will welcome it. But we are not optimistic." The lengthy rule says that the federal agencies "plan to initiate a rulemaking to require issuers to offer insurance without contraception coverage to such a [faith-based] employer ... and simultaneously offer contraceptive coverage directly to the employer's plan participants ... who desire it, with no cost-sharing." One outstanding concern has been the many religious agencies that already avoid state mandates through self-insurance. Speaking on background, an Obama administration official said "the administration will work with faith-based organizations, insurers and other interested parties to develop policies that respect religious liberty and ensure access to preventive services for women enrolled in self-insured group health plans sponsored by religious organizations. We will start in the upcoming days by convening a series of meetings with faith community leaders to explore solutions. ... so that the ultimate outcome works for religious employers, their workers and the public." The Alliance Defense Fund maintains that there is no such thing as free insurance, so that the religious employers would