The Poverty Of Poverty And Poverty - 1394 Words

There are so many Americans living in poverty today, and the number of those living in poverty will probably only go up from here. What s even more disheartening is that a lot of the poverty stricken families include young children. America is considered one of the richest nations in the world, and that we are so much better off than other countries. While it may be true, I beg to ask the question of why are so many of our fellow brothers and sisters living in poverty? For those of us who are fortunate to be able to afford the basics of things go about our lives without thinking about not being able to pay for basic needs, we don t even realize that a lot of the people we come into contact with are probably poor. Most often when we do think of poor, we picture of the images of the children in Africa with no clean water or no food at all, when really that is not the case. Some families do not have enough food to feed their children, or make just enough to pay the basic bills and hav e little money for food. Poverty is defined as the state or condition of having not enough money, goods, or any means of support for oneself. Statistics say that at least 16 % of Americans are living below the poverty line. Poverty is considered as one of America s leading problems. What is important to note is that a lot of those people living in poverty actually have jobs. They just do not make enough money to be able to afford health care, food, clothes, and barley their homes. a quarterShow MoreRelatedPoverty Of Poverty And Poverty1448 Words   |  6 PagesStudy†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦..†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦...†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦2 Poverty during pregnancy†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦.†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦.†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦..3 Facts and Consequences About being born into poverty...4 Being Born Into Poverty Essay†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦.†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦...5 Some People Who Were Born Into Poverty†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦...6-7 Ways To Stay Out Of Poverty†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦.....8 How Poverty Will Affect You Life†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦.9 How I Will Stay Out Of Poverty†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦...10 Recent Study: The U.S. child poverty rate has fluctuated between 15 andRead MorePoverty And Poverty : Poverty1662 Words   |  7 Pages Poverty for centuries has been a very severe issue that has troubled many nations while impeding economic developments and progress. Poverty stricken countries are majorly concentrated in the continents of Africa and Asia. Continents like the Americas and Europe have globally been recognized as been wealthier yet still many parts of these ostensible countries face massive cases of poverty. Most at times, countries with high populations owing to high birth rates face the most casesRead MorePoverty Of Poverty And Poverty1134 Words   |  5 Pageseach day as a result of poverty (â€Å"Child Mortality Rate Drops†). On their website, The World Bank calculated that the amount of people living in extreme poverty was likely to fall below ten percent in 2015. Even though the poverty rate has decreased, there are still many people living in extreme poverty. One billion children in the world live in poverty and organizations like Compassion International are helping give them a new life (â€Å"Poverty Facts and Stats†). What is poverty? There are two specificRead MorePoverty : Poverty And Poverty3135 Words   |  13 PagesPoverty Research Paper Noah Morrow Mrs.Zimmerly English 10 April/4/2015 The rich cause poverty because of the inequality and unfairness they bring. The country is put to blame for the governments and nations decisions. The people themselves can also be put at fault for poverty because of population but, some can not help it. This affects the poverty threshold, the people, and the number of people in poverty. Poverty can be solved with the help of organizations, the government or the president,Read MorePoverty And The Poverty Of Poverty2574 Words   |  11 PagesDespite living in poverty, it is a struggle and there are many causes for this, it has been said that those in poverty choose to live that way, often being called and/or labeled lazy or ignorant. Countless of those living in poverty are being treated like second-class citizens. Rather than staying in poverty and constantly living off others, they should get jobs, is a comment often heard. There are resources available to assist women, with education, daycare and housing to help women improve theirRead MorePoverty And Poverty : Poverty1950 Words   |  8 PagesAlthough many see poverty as a choice, made by those who are lazy and prefer to do nothing but expect to reap the same benefits of people who work hard every day to provide for their families. In some cases this may be true but, poverty will wreak havoc on any and all of those who have the misfortune of crossing paths with it. Poverty is alive and well throughout the world, and it has an unyielding pulse here in the United States. It has been discovered that The poorest families in America areRead MorePoverty Of Poverty And Poverty861 Words   |  4 PagesI. Background, Statistics, Introduction Poverty traps are economic anomalies that continually reinforce poverty within a country’s, or multiple countries’, economies. There are many different types of poverty traps such as savings traps, â€Å"big push† models, nutritional traps, behavioral traps, geographic traps, etc. that all affect an economy in different ways. Not only can poverty be enforced through these traps, but also through the way an economy is run or the moralities of the government. AccordingRead MorePoverty : Poverty And Poverty Essay2223 Words   |  9 PagesDisc 5 Poverty Poverty Slideshow Poverty can be defined as the state of being extremely poor. These images that were captured depict what life was like living below poverty and the conditions some individuals face. I am aware of these sometimes horrific conditions people live in, especially children. We are reminded by these images that there are people who live without, without the comforts of the amenities that we sometimes take for granted, such as beds, blankets, the use of running water, andRead MorePoverty : Poverty And Poverty1932 Words   |  8 PagesChild poverty in America is often overlooked because compared to other nations and the majority of the population it is minimal; still, this epidemic affects over 14.5 million United States children and families. Martin Luther King Jr. once said â€Å"America is going to hell if we don’t use her vast resources to end poverty and make it possible for all of God’s children to have the basic necessities of life† and at the rate America is goin g, poverty becomes a bigger issue each day. Impoverishment includesRead MorePoverty And Poverty985 Words   |  4 Pagesexpansion are directly linked to poverty. And direct contact in the case of basic social and economic human rights, such as the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of the individual and his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care. This link is indirect in the case of civil and political human rights associated with democratic governance and the rule of law (Pogge, 2017) .The poor, who suffer from extreme poverty and are deeply involved in the struggle

Nelson on Descartess Theory of Perception and Judgment

Nelson on Descartes?s Theory of Perception and Judgment ABSTRACT: One tension in Descartes?s account of human error stems from the idea that we may be faulted for our acts of will, despite the fact that God is our omnipotent and omniscient creator. In the present essay, I describe a second tension in Descartes?s account of human error. After describing the tension, I consider Alan Nelson?s characterization of the means by which Descartes?s intended to relieve it. Although Nelsons interpretation is almost correct, I think that it obscures some of the interesting details of Descartes?s theory of perception and judgment. These details are revealed by the taxonomy of sensory responses that Descartes articulates in the Sixth Set of Replies†¦show more content†¦In cases of false perceptual judgment, is it not the faculty of intellect that so seductively offers up false propositions whose subject matter so clearly concerns our environs? As Descartes himself concedes, the objects of perception include the ideas of size, shape, and motion , and of other properties that are referred to objects outside of the mind.2 If the will and intellect, respectively, contribute the neustic and phrastic components of judgment, then it appears that the intellect (and hence God) is blameworthy in cases of erroneous perceptual judgment. II. In his paper, Descartes?s Ontology of Thought, Alan Nelson attempts to give an interpretation of Descartes?s theory of perception and judgment that extricates Descartes from the tension associated with explaining human error.3 On Nelson?s interpretation, Descartes maintained that false perceptual judgments are ultimately the result of confused ideas, which have their origin in past determinations of the will. In turn, Nelson supposes that confused sensory ideas can subsequently come to be the customary result of the impact of external objects, and thereby result in the spontaneous dispensing of false propositions by the intellect. Nelson?s interpretation has a lot going for it. First, it appears to relieve the apparent tension in Descartes?s account of error. Indeed, by characterizing false perceptual judgment as the result of confused ideas and tracing the sourceShow MoreRelatedLogical Reasoning189930 Words   |  760 PagesBell, University of Arkansas at Monticello; Phyllis Berger, Diablo Valley College; Kevin Galvin, East Los Angeles College; Jacquelyn Ann Kegley, California State University-Bakersfield; Darryl Mehring, University of Colorado at Denver; Dean J. Nelson, Dutchess Community College; James E. Parejko, Chicago State University; Robert Sessions, Kirkwood Community College; and Stephanie Tucker, California State University Sacramento. Thinking and writing about logical reasoning has been enjoyable

The Twilight Saga 5 Midnight Sun 7. Melody Free Essays

I had to wait when I got back to school. The final hour wasn’t out yet. That was good, because I had things to think about and I needed the alone time. We will write a custom essay sample on The Twilight Saga 5: Midnight Sun 7. Melody or any similar topic only for you Order Now Her scent lingered in the car. I kept the windows up, letting it assault me, trying to get used to the feel of intentionally torching my throat. Attraction. It was a problematic thing to contemplate. So many sides to it, so many different meanings and levels. Not the same thing as love, but tied up in it inextricably. I had no idea if Bella was attracted to me. (Would her mental silence somehow continue to get more and more frustrating until I went mad? Or was there a limit that I would eventually reach?) I tried to compare her physical responses to others, like the secretary and Jessica Stanley, but the comparison was inconclusive. The same markers – changes in heart rate and breathing patterns – could just as easily mean fear or shock or anxiety as they did interest. It seemed unlikely that Bella could be entertaining the same kinds of thoughts that Jessica Stanley used to have. After all, Bella knew very well that there was something wrong with me, even if she didn’t know what exactly it was. She had touched my icy skin, and then yanked her hand away from the chill. And yet†¦as I remembered those fantasies that used to repulse me, but remembered them with Bella in Jessica’s place†¦ I was breathing more quickly, the fire clawing up and down my throat. What if it had been Bella imagining me with my arms wrapped around her fragile body? Feeling me pull her tightly against my chest and then cupping my hand under her chin? Brushing the heavy curtain of her hair back from her blushing face? Tracing the shape of her full lips with my fingertips? Leaning my face closer to hers, where I could feel the heat of her breath on my mouth? Moving closer still†¦ But then I flinched away from the daydream, knowing, as I had known when Jessica had imagined these things, what would happen if I got that close to her. Attraction was an impossible dilemma, because I was already too attracted to Bella in the worst way. Did I want Bella to be attracted to me, a woman to a man? That was the wrong question. The right question was should I want Bella to be attracted to me that way, and that answer was no. Because I was not a human man, and that wasn’t fair to her. With every fiber of my being, I ached to be a normal man, so that I could hold her in my arms without risking her life. So that I could be free to spin my own fantasies, fantasies that didn’t end in with her blood on my hands, her blood glowing in my eyes. My pursuit of her was indefensible. What kind of relationship could I offer her, when I couldn’t risk touching her? I hung my head in my hands. It was all the more confusing because I had never felt so human in my whole life – not even when I was human, as far as I could recall. When I had been human, my thoughts had all been turned to a soldier’s glory. The Great War had raged through most of my adolescence, and I’d been only nine months away from my eighteenth birthday when the influenza had struck†¦ I had just vague impressions of those human years, murky memories that faded more with every passing decade. I remembered my mother most clearly, and felt an ancient ache when I thought of her face. I recalled dimly how much she had hated the future I’d raced eagerly toward, praying every night when she said grace at dinner that the â€Å"horrid war† would end†¦ I had no memories of another kind of yearning. Besides my mother’s love, there was no other love that had made me wish to stay†¦ This was entirely new to me. I had no parallels to draw, no comparisons to make. The love I felt for Bella had come purely, but now the waters were muddied. I wanted very much to be able to touch her. Did she feel the same way? That didn’t matter, I tried to convince myself. I stared at my white hands, hating their hardness, their coldness, their inhuman strength†¦ I jumped when the passenger door opened. Ha. Caught you by surprise. There’s a first, Emmett thought as he slid into the seat. â€Å"I’ll bet Mrs. Goff thinks you’re on drugs, you’ve been so erratic lately. Where were you today?† â€Å"I was†¦doing good deeds.† Huh? I chuckled. â€Å"Caring for the sick, that kind of thing.† That confused him more, but then he inhaled and caught the scent in the car. â€Å"Oh. The girl again?† I grimaced. This is getting weird. â€Å"Tell me about it,† I mumbled. He inhaled again. â€Å"Hmm, she does have a quite a flavor, doesn’t she?† The snarl broke through my lips before his words had even registered all the way, an automatic response. â€Å"Easy, kid, I’m just sayin.'† The others arrived then. Rosalie noticed the scent at once and glowered at me, still not over her irritation. I wondered what her problem was, but all I could hear from her were insults. I didn’t like Jasper’s reaction, either. Like Emmett, he noticed Bella’s appeal. Not that the scent had, for either of them, a thousandth portion of the draw it had for me. I was still upset me that her blood was sweet to them. Jasper had poor control†¦ Alice skipped to my side of the car and held her hand out for Bella’s truck key. â€Å"I only saw that I was,† she said – obscurely, as was her habit. â€Å"You’ll have to tell me the whys.† â€Å"This doesn’t mean – â€Å" â€Å"I know, I know. I’ll wait. It won’t be long.† I sighed and gave her the key. I followed her to Bella’s house. The rain was pounding down like a million tiny hammers, so loud that maybe Bella’s human ears couldn’t hear the thunder of the truck’s engine. I watched her window, but she didn’t come to look out. Maybe she wasn’t there. There were no thoughts to hear. It made me sad that I couldn’t hear enough even to check on her – to make sure she was happy, or safe, at the least. Alice climbed in the back and we sped home. The roads were empty, and so it only took a few minutes. We trooped into the house, and then went to our various pastimes. Emmett and Jasper were in the middle of an elaborate game of chess, utilizing eight joined boards – spread out along the glass back wall – and their own complicated set of rules. They wouldn’t let me play; only Alice would play games with me anymore. Alice went to her computer just around the corner from them and I could hear her monitors sing to life. Alice was working on a fashion design project for Rosalie’s wardrobe, but Rosalie did not join her today, to stand behind her and direct cut and color as Alice’s hand traced over the touch sensitive screens (Carlisle and I had had to tweak that system a bit, given that most such screens responded to temperature). Instead, today Rosalie sprawled sullenly on the sofa and started flipping through twenty channels a second on the flat screen, never pausing. I could hear her trying to decide whether or not to go out to the garage and tune her BMW again. Esme was upstairs, humming over a new set of blue prints. Alice leaned her head around the wall after a moment and started mouthing Emmett’s next moves – Emmett sat on the floor with his back to her – to Jasper, who kept his expression very smooth as he cut off Emmett’s favorite knight. And I, for the first time in so long that I felt ashamed, went to sit at the exquisite grand piano stationed just off the entryway. I ran my hand gently up the scales, testing the pitch. The tuning was still perfect. Upstairs, Esme paused what she was doing and cocked her head to the side. I began the first line of the tune that had suggested itself to me in the car today, pleased that it sounded even better than I’d imagined. Edward is playing again, Esme thought joyously, a smile breaking across her face. She got up from her desk, and flitted silently to the head of the stairs. I added a harmonizing line, letting the central melody weave through it. Esme sighed with contentment, sat down on the top step, and leaned her head against the banister. A new song. It’s been so long. What a lovely tune. I let the melody lead in a new direction, following it with the bass line. Edward is composing again? Rosalie thought, and her teeth clenched together in fierce resentment. In that moment, she slipped, and I could read all her underlying outrage. I saw why she was in such a poor temper with me. Why killing Isabella Swan had not bothered her conscience at all. With Rosalie, it was always about vanity. The music came to an abrupt halt, and I laughed before I could help myself, a sharp bark of amusement that broke off quickly as I threw my hand over my mouth. Rosalie turned to glare at me, her eyes sparking with chagrined fury. Emmett and Jasper turned to stare, too, and I heard Esme’s confusion. Esme was downstairs in a flash, pausing to glance between Rosalie and me. â€Å"Don’t stop, Edward,† Esme encouraged after a strained moment. I started playing again, turning my back on Rosalie while trying very hard to control the grin stretching across my face. She got to her feet and stalked out of the room, more angry than embarrassed. But certainly quite embarrassed. If you say anything I will hunt you like a dog. I smothered another laugh. â€Å"What’s wrong, Rose?† Emmett called after her. Rosalie didn’t turn. She continued, back ramrod straight, to the garage and then squirmed under her car as if she could bury herself there. â€Å"What’s that about?† Emmett asked me. â€Å"I don’t have the faintest idea,† I lied. Emmett grumbled, frustrated. â€Å"Keep playing,† Esme urged. My hands had paused again. I did as she asked, and she came to stand behind me, putting her hands on my shoulders. The song was compelling, but incomplete. I toyed with a bridge, but it didn’t seem right somehow. â€Å"It’s charming. Does it have a name?† Esme asked. â€Å"Not yet.† â€Å"Is there a story to it?† she asked, a smile in her voice. This gave her very great pleasure, and I felt guilty for having neglected my music for so long. It had been selfish. â€Å"It’s†¦a lullaby, I suppose.† I got the bridge right then. It led easily to the next movement, taking on a life of its own. â€Å"A lullaby,† she repeated to herself. There was a story to this melody, and once I saw that, the pieces fell into place effortlessly. The story was a sleeping girl in a narrow bed, dark hair thick and wild and twisted like seaweed across the pillow†¦ Alice left Jasper to his own devices and came to sit next to me on the bench. In her trilling, wind chime voice, she sketched out a wordless descant two octaves above the melody. â€Å"I like it,† I murmured. â€Å"But how about this?† I added her line to the harmony – my hands were flying across the keys now to work all the pieces together – modifying it a bit, taking it in a new direction†¦ She caught the mood, and sung along. â€Å"Yes. Perfect,† I said. Esme squeezed my shoulder. But I could see the end now, with Alice’s voice rising above the tune and taking it to another place. I could see how the song must end, because the sleeping girl was perfect just the way she was, and any change at all would be wrong, a sadness. The song drifted toward that realization, slower and lower now. Alice’s voice lowered, too, and became solemn, a tone that belonged under the echoing arches of a candlelit cathedral. I played the last note, and then bowed my head over the keys. Esme stroked my hair. It’s going to be fine, Edward. This is going to work out for the best. You deserve happiness, my son. Fate owes you that. â€Å"Thanks,† I whispered, wishing I could believe it. Love doesn’t always come in convenient packages. I laughed once without humor. You, out of everyone on this planet, are perhaps best equipped to deal with such a difficult quandary. You are the best and the brightest of us all. I sighed. Every mother thought the same of her son. Esme was still full of joy that my heart had finally been touched after all this time, no matter the potential for tragedy. She’d thought I would always be alone†¦ She’ll have to love you back, she thought suddenly, catching me by surprise with the direction of her thoughts. If she’s a bright girl. She smiled. But I can’t imagine anyone being so slow they wouldn’t see the catch you are. â€Å"Stop it, Mom, you’re making me blush,† I teased. Her words, though improbable, did cheer me. Alice laughed and picked out the top hand of â€Å"Heart and Soul.† I grinned and completed the simple harmony with her. Then I favored her with a performance of â€Å"Chopsticks.† She giggled, then sighed. â€Å"So I wish you’d tell me what you were laughing at Rose about,† Alice said. â€Å"But I can see that you won’t.† â€Å"Nope.† She flicked my ear with her finger. â€Å"Be nice, Alice,† Esme chided. â€Å"Edward is being a gentleman.† â€Å"But I want to know.† I laughed at the whining tone she put on. Then I said, â€Å"Here, Esme,† and began playing her favorite song, an unnamed tribute to the love I’d watched between her and Carlisle for so many years. â€Å"Thank you, dear.† She squeezed my shoulder again. I didn’t have to concentrate to play the familiar piece. Instead I thought of Rosalie, still figuratively writhing in mortification in the garage, and I grinned to myself. Having just discovered the potency of jealousy for myself, I had a small amount of pity for her. It was a wretched way to feel. Of course, her jealously was a thousand times more petty than mine. Quite the fox in the manger scenario. I wondered how Rosalie’s life and personality would have been different if she had not always been the most beautiful. Would she have been a happier person if beauty hadn’t at all times been her strongest selling point? Less egocentric? More compassionate? Well, I supposed it was useless to wonder, because the past was done, and she always had been the most beautiful. Even when human, she had ever lived in the spotlight of her own loveliness. Not that she’d minded. The opposite – she’d loved admiration above almost anything else. That hadn’t changed with the loss of her mortality. It was no surprise then, taking this need as a given, that she’d been offended when I had not, from the beginning, worshiped her beauty the way she expected all males to worship. Not that she’d wanted me in any way – far from it. But it had aggravated her that I did not want her, despite that. She was used to being wanted. It was different with Jasper and Carlisle – they were already both in love. I was completely unattached, and yet still remained obstinately unmoved. I’d thought that old resentment was buried. That she was long passed it. And she had been†¦until the day that I finally found someone whose beauty touched me the way hers had not. Rosalie had relied on the belief that if I did not find her beauty worth worshiping, then certainly there was no beauty on earth that would reach me. She’d been furious since the moment I’d saved Bella’s life, guessing, with her shrewd female intuition, the interest that I was all but unconscious of myself. Rosalie was mortally offended that I found some insignificant human girl more appealing than her. I suppressed the urge to laugh again. It bothered me some, though, the way she saw Bella. Rosalie actually thought the girl was plain. How could she believe that? It seemed incomprehensible to me. A product of the jealousy, no doubt. â€Å"Oh!† Alice said abruptly. â€Å"Jasper, guess what?† I saw what she’d just seen, and my hands froze on the keys. â€Å"What, Alice?† Jasper asked. â€Å"Peter and Charlotte are coming to visit next week! They’re going to be in the neighborhood, isn’t that nice?† â€Å"What’s wrong, Edward?† Esme asked, feeling the tension in my shoulders. â€Å"Peter and Charlotte are coming to Forks?† I hissed at Alice She rolled her eyes at me. â€Å"Calm down, Edward. It’s not their first visit.† My teeth clenched together. It was their first visit since Bella had arrived, and her sweet blood didn’t appeal just to me. Alice frowned at my expression. â€Å"They never hunt here. You know that.† But Jasper’s brother of sorts and the little vampire he loved were not like us; they hunted the usual way. They could not be trusted around Bella. â€Å"When?† I demanded. She pursed her lips unhappily, but told me what I needed to know. Monday morning. No one is going to hurt Bella. â€Å"No,† I agreed, and then turned away from her. â€Å"You ready, Emmett?† â€Å"I thought we were leaving in the morning?† â€Å"We’re coming back by midnight Sunday. I guess it’s up to you when you want to leave.† â€Å"Okay, fine. Let me say goodbye to Rose first.† â€Å"Sure.† With the mood Rosalie was in, it would be a short goodbye. You really have lost it, Edward, he thought as he headed toward the back door. â€Å"I suppose I have.† â€Å"Play the new song for me, one more time,† Esme asked. â€Å"If you’d like that,† I agreed, though I was a little hesitant to follow the tune to its unavoidable end – the end that had set me aching in unfamiliar ways. I thought for a moment, and then pulled the bottle cap from my pocket and set it on the empty music stand. That helped a bit – my little memento of her yes. I nodded to myself, and started playing. Esme and Alice exchanged a glance, but neither one asked. â€Å"Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with your food?† I called to Emmett. â€Å"Oh, hey Edward!† he shouted back, grinning and waving at me. The bear took advantage of his distraction to rake its heavy paw across Emmett’s chest. The sharp claws shredded through his shirt, and squealed across his skin. The bear bellowed at the high-pitched noise. Aw hell, Rose gave me this shirt! Emmett roared back at the enraged animal. I sighed and sat down on a convenient boulder. This might take awhile. But Emmett was almost done. He let the bear try to take his head off with another swipe of the paw, laughing as the blow bounced off and sent the bear staggering back. The bear roared and Emmett roared again through his laughter. Then he launched himself at the animal, who stood a head taller than him on its hind legs, and their bodies fell to the ground tangled up together, taking a mature spruce tree down with them. The bear’s growls cut off with a gurgle. A few minutes later, Emmett jogged over to where I was waiting for him. His shirt was destroyed, torn and bloodied, sticky with sap and covered in fur. His dark curly hair wasn’t in much better shape. He had a huge grin on his face. â€Å"That was a strong one. I could almost feel it when he clawed me.† â€Å"You’re such a child, Emmett.† He eyed my smooth, clean white button-down. â€Å"Weren’t you able to track down that mountain lion, then?† â€Å"Of course I was. I just don’t eat like a savage.† Emmett laughed his booming laugh. â€Å"I wish they were stronger. It would be more fun.† â€Å"No one said you had to fight your food.† â€Å"Yeah, but who else am I going to fight with? You and Alice cheat, Rose never wants to get her hair messed up, and Esme gets mad if Jasper and I really go at it.† â€Å"Life is hard all around, isn’t it?† Emmett grinned at me, shifting his weight a bit so that he was suddenly poised to take a charge. â€Å"C’mon Edward. Just turn it off for one minute and fight fair.† â€Å"It doesn’t turn off,† I reminded him. â€Å"Wonder what that human girl does to keep you out?† Emmett mused. â€Å"Maybe she could give me some pointers.† My good humor vanished. â€Å"Stay away from her,† I growled through my teeth. â€Å"Touchy, touchy.† I sighed. Emmett came to sit beside me on the rock. â€Å"Sorry. I know you’re going through a tough spot. I really am trying to not be too much of an insensitive jerk, but, since that’s sort of my natural state†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He waited for me to laugh at his joke, and then made a face. So serious all the time. What’s bugging you now? â€Å"Thinking about her. Well, worrying, really.† â€Å"What’s there to worry about? You are here.† He laughed loudly. I ignored his joke again, but answered his question. â€Å"Have you ever thought about how fragile they all are? How many bad things there are that can happen to a mortal?† â€Å"Not really. I guess I see what you mean, though. I wasn’t much match for a bear that first time around, was I?† â€Å"Bears,† I muttered, adding a new fear to the pile. â€Å"That would be just her luck, wouldn’t it? Stray bear in town. Of course it would head straight for Bella.† Emmett chuckled. â€Å"You sound like a crazy person, do you know that?† â€Å"Just imagine for one minute that Rosalie was human, Emmett. And she could run into a bear†¦or get hit by a car†¦or lightening†¦or fall down stairs†¦or get sick – get a disease!† The words burst from me stormily. It was a relief to let them out – they’d been festering inside me all weekend. â€Å"Fires and earthquakes and tornados! Ugh! When’s the last time you watched the news? Have you seen the kinds of things that happen to them? Burglaries and homicides†¦Ã¢â‚¬  My teeth clenched together, and I was abruptly so infuriated by the idea of another human hurting her that I couldn’t breathe. â€Å"Whoa, whoa! Hold up, there, kid. She lives in Forks, remember? So she gets rained on.† He shrugged. â€Å"I think she has some serious bad luck, Emmett, I really do. Look at the evidence. Of all the places in the world she could go, she ends up in a town where vampires make up a significant portion of the population.† â€Å"Yeah, but we’re vegetarians. So isn’t that good luck, not bad?† â€Å"With the way she smells? Definitely bad. And then, more bad luck, the way she smells to me.† I glowered at my hands, hating them again. â€Å"Except that you have more self-control than just about anyone but Carlisle. Good luck again.† â€Å"The van?† â€Å"That was just an accident.† â€Å"You should have seen it coming for her, Em, again and again. I swear, it was like she had some kind of magnetic pull.† â€Å"But you were there. That was good luck.† â€Å"Was it? Isn’t this the worst luck any human could ever possibly have – to have a vampire fall in love with them?† Emmett considered that quietly for a moment. He pictured the girl in his head, and found the image uninteresting. Honestly, I can’t really see the draw. â€Å"Well, I can’t really see Rosalie’s allure, either,† I said rudely. â€Å"Honestly, she seems like more work than any pretty face is worth.† Emmett chuckled. â€Å"I don’t suppose you’d tell me†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I don’t know what her problem is, Emmett,† I lied with a sudden, wide grin. I saw his intent in time to brace myself. He tried to shove me off the rock, and there was a loud cracking sound as a fissure opened in the stone between us. â€Å"Cheater,† he muttered. I waited for him to try another time, but his thoughts took a different direction. He was picturing Bella’s face again, but imagining it whiter, imagining her eyes bright red†¦ â€Å"No,† I said, my voice strangled. â€Å"It solves your worries about mortality, doesn’t it? And then you wouldn’t want to kill her, either. Isn’t that the best way?† â€Å"For me? Or for her?† â€Å"For you,† he answered easily. His tone added the of course. I laughed humorlessly. â€Å"Wrong answer.† â€Å"I didn’t mind so much,† he reminded me. â€Å"Rosalie did.† He sighed. We both knew that Rosalie would do anything, give up anything, if it meant she could be human again. Even Emmett. â€Å"Yeah, Rose did,† he acquiesced quietly. â€Å"I can’t†¦ I shouldn’t†¦ I’m not going to ruin Bella’s life. Wouldn’t you feel the same, if it were Rosalie?† Emmett thought about that for a moment. You really†¦love her? â€Å"I can’t even describe it, Emmett. All of a sudden, this girl’s the whole world to me. I don’t see the point of the rest of the world without her anymore.† But you won’t change her? She won’t last forever, Edward. â€Å"I know that,† I groaned. And, as you’ve pointed out, she’s sort of breakable. â€Å"Trust me – that I know, too.† Emmett was not a tactful person, and delicate discussions were not his forte. He struggled now, wanting very much not to be offensive. Can you even touch her? I mean, if you love her†¦wouldn’t you want to, well touch her†¦? Emmett and Rosalie shared an intensely physical love. He had a hard time understanding how one could love, without that aspect. I sighed. â€Å"I can’t even think of that, Emmett.† Wow. So what are your options, then? â€Å"I don’t know,† I whispered. â€Å"I’m trying to figure out a way to†¦to leave her. I just can’t fathom how to make myself stay away†¦Ã¢â‚¬  With a deep sense of gratification, I suddenly realized that it was right for me to stay – at least for now, with Peter and Charlotte on their way. She was safer with me here, temporarily, than she would be if I were gone. For the moment, I could be her unlikely protector. The thought made me anxious; I itched to be back so that I could fill that role for as long as possible. Emmett noticed the change in my expression. What are you thinking about? â€Å"Right now,† I admitted a bit sheepishly, â€Å"I’m dying to run back to Forks and check on her. I don’t know if I’ll make it till Sunday night.† â€Å"Uh-uh! You are not going home early. Let Rosalie cool down a little bit. Please! For my sake.† â€Å"I’ll try to stay,† I said doubtfully. Emmett tapped the phone in my pocket. â€Å"Alice would call if there were any basis for your panic attack. She’s as weird about this girl as you are.† I grimaced at that. â€Å"Fine. But I’m not staying past Sunday.† â€Å"There’s no point in hurrying back – it’s going to be sunny, anyway. Alice said we were free from school until Wednesday.† I shook my head rigidly. â€Å"Peter and Charlotte know how to behave themselves.† â€Å"I really don’t care, Emmett. With Bella’s luck, she’ll go wandering off into the woods at exactly the wrong moment and – † I flinched. â€Å"Peter isn’t known for his selfcontrol. I’m going back Sunday.† Emmett sighed. Exactly like a crazy person. Bella was sleeping peacefully when I climbed up to her bedroom window early Monday morning. I’d remembered oil this time, and the window now moved silently out of my way. I could tell by the way her hair lay smooth across the pillow that she’d had a less restless night than the last time I was here. She had her hands folded under her cheek like a small child, and her mouth was slightly open. I could hear her breath moving slowly in and out between her lips. It was an amazing relief to be here, to be able to see her again. I realized that I wasn’t truly at ease unless that was the case. Nothing was right when I was away from her. Not that all was right when I was with her, either, though. I sighed, letting the thirst fire rake through my throat. I’d been away from it too long. The time spent without pain and temptation made it all the more forceful now. It was bad enough that I was afraid to go kneel beside her bed so that I could read the titles of her books. I wanted to know the stories in her head, but I was afraid of more than my thirst, afraid that if I let myself get that close to her, I would want to be closer still†¦ Her lips looked very soft and warm. I could imagine touching them with the tip of my finger. Just lightly†¦ That was exactly the kind of mistake that I had to avoid. My eyes ran over her face again and again, examining it for changes. Mortals changed all the time – I was sad at the thought of missing anything†¦ I thought she looked†¦tired. Like she hadn’t gotten enough sleep this weekend. Had she gone out? I laughed silently and wryly at how much that upset me. So what if she had? I didn’t own her. She wasn’t mine. No, she wasn’t mine – and I was sad again. One of her hands twitched, and I noticed that there were shallow, barely healed scrapes across the heel of her palm. She’d been hurt? Even though it was obviously not a serious injury, it still disturbed me. I considered the location, and decided she must have tripped. That seemed a reasonable explanation, all things considered. It was comforting to think that I wouldn’t have to puzzle over either of these small mysteries forever. We were friends now – or, at least, trying to be friends. I could ask her about her weekend – about the beach, and whatever late night activity had made her look so weary. I could ask what had happened to her hands. And I could laugh a little when she confirmed my theory about them. I smiled gently as I wondered whether or not she had fallen in the ocean. I wondered if she’d had a pleasant time on the outing. I wondered if she’d thought about me at all. If she’d missed me even the tiniest portion of the amount that I’d missed her. I tried to picture her in the sun on the beach. The picture was incomplete, though, because I’d never been to First Beach myself. I only knew how it looked in pictures†¦ I felt a tiny qualm of unease as I thought about the reason why I’d never once been to the pretty beach located just a few minutes run from my home. Bella had spent the day at La Push – a place where I was forbidden, by treaty, to go. A place where a few old men still remembered the stories about the Cullens, remembered and believed them. A place where our secret was known†¦ I shook my head. I had nothing to worry about there. The Quileutes were bound by treaty, too. Even had Bella run into one of those aging sages, they could reveal nothing. And why would the subject ever be broached? Why would Bella think to voice her curiosity there? No – the Quileutes were perhaps the one thing I did not have to worry about. I was angry with the sun when it began to rise. It reminded me that I could not satisfy my curiosity for days to come. Why did it choose to shine now? With a sigh, I ducked out her window before it was light enough for anyone to see me here. I meant to stay in the thick forest by her house and see her off to school, but when I got into the trees, I was surprised to find the trace of her scent lingering on the trail there. I followed it quickly, curiously, becoming more and more worried as it led deeper into the darkness. What had Bella been doing out here? The trail stopped abruptly, in the middle of nowhere in particular. She’d gone just a few steps off the trail, into the ferns, where she’d touched the trunk of a fallen tree. Perhaps sat there†¦ I sat where she had, and looked around. All she would have been able to see was ferns and forest. It had probably been raining – the scent was washed out, having never set deeply into the tree. Why would Bella have come to sit here alone – and she had been alone, no doubt about that – in the middle of the wet, murky forest? It made no sense, and, unlike those other points of curiosity, I could hardly bring this up in casual conversation. So, Bella, I was following your scent through the woods after I left your room where I’d been watching you sleep†¦ Yes, that would be quite the ice breaker. I would never know what she’d been thinking and doing here, and that had my teeth grinding together in frustration. Worse, this was far too much like the scenario I’d imagined for Emmett – Bella wandering alone in the woods, where her scent would call to anyone who had the senses to track it†¦ I groaned. Not only did she have bad luck, but she courted it. Well, for this moment she had a protector. I would watch over her, keep her from harm, for as long as I could justify it. I suddenly found myself wishing that Peter and Charlotte would make an extended stay. How to cite The Twilight Saga 5: Midnight Sun 7. Melody, Essay examples

Heart Of Darkness And Apocolypse Now free essay sample

: Analysis Of Book A ; film Essay, Research Paper Heart of Darkness and Apocolypse Now: analysis of book A ; film Heart of Darkness and Apocalypse Now Built-in indoors every human psyche is a barbarian evil side that remains repressed by society. Often this evil side interruptions out during times of isolation from our civilization, and whenever one civilization confronts another. Joseph Conrad # 8217 ; s book, The Heart of Darkness and Francis Coppola # 8217 ; s film, Apocalypse Now are both narratives about Man # 8217 ; s journey into his ego, and the finds to be made at that place. They are besides about Man facing his frights of failure, insanity, decease, and cultural taint. Heart of Darkness is about a adult male named Marlo relation of a trip he took into Africa to happen a adult male named Kurtz for a company. During Marlow # 8217 ; s mission to happen Kurtz, he is besides seeking to happen himself. He, like Kurtz had good purposes upon come ining the Congo. Conrad tries to demo us that Marlow is what Kurtz had been, and Kurtz is what Marlow could go. Every homo has a small of Marlow and Kurtz in them. Along the trip into the wilderness, they discover their true egos through contact with barbarian indigens. As Marlow ventures further up the Congo, he feels like he is going back through clip. He sees the unsettled wilderness and can experience the darkness of it # 8217 ; s purdah. Marlow comes across simpler cannibalistic civilizations along the Bankss. The deeper into the jungle he goes, the more regressive the dwellers seem. Kurtz had lived in the Congo, and was separated from his ain civilization for rather some clip. He had one time been considered an honest adult male, but the jungle changed him greatly. Here, secluded from the remainder of his ain society, he discovered his evil side and became corrupted by his power and purdah. Marlow tells us about the Ivory that Kurtz kept as his ain, and that he had no restraint, and was a tr ee swayed by the air current. ( Conrad 209 ) Marlow mentions the human caputs displayed on stations that showed that Mr. Kurtz lacked restraint in the satisfaction of his assorted lecherousnesss. ( Conrad, 220 ) Conrad besides tells us his? nervousnesss went incorrect, and caused him to preside at certain midnight dances stoping with indefinable rights, which? were offered up to him, ( Conrad, 208 ) significance that Kurtz went insane and allowed himself to be worshipped as a God. It appears that while Kurtz had been isolated from his civilization, he had become corrupted by this violent native civilization, and allowed his evil side to command him. Marlow realizes that merely really near the clip of decease, does a individual grasp the large image. He describes Kurtz # 8217 ; s last minutes as though a head covering had been rent. ( Conrad, 239 ) Kurtz # 8217 ; s last minute of complete cognition, showed him how atrocious the human psyche truly can be. Marlow can merely th eorize as to what Kurtz saw that caused him to cry The horror! The horror, but later adds that Since I peeped over the border myself, I understand better the significance of his stare? it was broad plenty to encompass the whole existence, piercing adequate to perforate all the Black Marias that round in the darkness? he had summed up, he had judged. ( Conrad, 241 ) Marlow guesses that Kurtz all of a sudden knew everything and discovered how atrocious the fraudulence of adult male can be. Marlow learned through Kurtz’s decease, and he now knows that inside every homo is this atrocious, evil side. Francis Coppola’s film, Apocalypse Now, is based slackly upon Conrad’s book. Captain Willard is a Marlow who is on a mission into Cambodia during the Vietnam war to happen and kill an insane Colonel Kurtz. Coppola’s Kurtz, as he experienced his epiphany of horror, was an officer and a sane, successful, superb leader. Like Conrad’s Kurtz, Coppola shows us a adult male who was one time really good respected, but was corrupted by the horror of war and the civilizations he met. The narrative Kurtz tells Willard about the Particular Forces traveling into a small town, inoculating the kids for infantile paralysis and traveling off, and the Communists coming i nto the small town and cutting off all the children’s inoculated weaponries, is the chief grounds for this deduction in that movie. This is when Kurtz begins to travel huffy, he wept like some grandma when, called back by a villager, he saw the heap of small weaponries, a sophisticated version of the escalating horrors. What Kurtz meant by intensifying horrors is the Vietnamese army’s senseless beheading, anguish, and the similar. Kurtz is confronting a new civilization and has a awful clip covering with it. This was the beginning of his insanity. The disjunction between the gap words of Kurtz’s study By the simple exercising of our will, we can exercise a power for good practically boundless and the note on the last page, Exterminate all the beasts! illustrates the progressive externalisation of Kurtz’s fright of taint. The personal fright of loss of self-which colonialist Whites saw in the barbarian, apparently regressive life style of the ind igens. Coppola makes a point to demo us that the Chief of a boat armed to the dentition was killed by a indigen in a tree who threw a lance. Not even an advanced Navy boat can support itself against some simple indigens armed merely with lances. This opens Captain Willard’s eyes to the horror of the state of affairs he now finds himself in. We live our lives sheltered in our ain society, and our exposure to civilizations outside of our ain is limited at best. Often, the more technologically advanced civilizations look down upon those that they deem to be simpler. On the juncture that some member of one civilization does come into contact with another, simpler civilization, a ego find happens. Both civilizations realize that deep down indoors, all worlds are basically the same. We all posses a good and an evil side, and no civilization, non count how advanced, is exempt from that fact. This find frequently causes madness as this evil side is allowed out. Merely those who have completed the journey into ego can understand the actions of people such as Kurtz. Apocalypse Now. Dir. Francis Coppola. With Martin Sheen, Robert Duval, and Marlon Brando. Zeotrope, 1979. Conrad, James. Heart of Darkness and Other Tales. Great Britain, BPC paperbacks ltd. 1990.