ETHICS OF ANIMAL COLLECTION Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 500 words

ETHICS OF ANIMAL COLLECTION - Essay Example 25) disagrees with this concept that confining animals in a zoo is not beneficial to the society. He denotes that keeping animals in a zoo helps to protect animal species that are in danger of extinction (Parish and Taylor, 2010, p. 31). Michael (2000, p.33) denotes that keeping animals in a zoo is beneficial because it will help to educate the public on a variety of animals, and their various characteristics. Blanchard (2011, p. 19) and Michael (2000, p. 35) denotes that the main ethical reason for the existence of Zoos is for the purpose of conserving wild animals. In fact, Parish and Taylor (2010, p. 22) denotes that Zoos have changed their policies over the last decade in order to focus on animal preservation. To achieve this objective, Parish and Taylor (2010, p. 26) denotes that Zoos have embarked on creation of breeding programs that are meant to replace the existing extinct and endangered animal species. Michael (2000, p. 39) further denotes that Zoos have initiated programs that are aimed on educating the public on the importance of conserving these animals, and their benefits to the eco-system. Twine (2010, p. 46) further believes that Zoos have initiated programs whose main aim is to raise money for purposes of conserving and preserving the animals under their protection.

Star Trek Technology We Use Everyday Essay Example for Free

Star Trek Technology We Use Everyday Essay Star Trek technology has become reality that we use in our daily lives. There are many different forms of technology fields that have been shown in Star Trek as a first that have become a reality rather than a Science Fiction (Sci-Fi) fantasy. Star Trek technology came from the great imaginative minds of writers and designers with little to no knowledge of science in the original series. It wasnt until the second series that they started to incorporate actual scientific methods and terms. Advancements in science have come about through the influence of creative people thinking of the future. This technology has been instrumental in how we conduct our lives. Contemporary technology has been influenced by Star Trek in many ways. Phones were around for many years before Star Trek; however, they were tied down to the house or office by wires and the bulkiness of the devices. No one could possibly make a phone call on the go, yet they could by using a phone booth. However, using a phone booth would not be of much use since it couldnt be carried around. One of the greatest inventors of this decade, Dr. Martin Cooper, decided to come up with a new form of communicating with the rest of the world. Dr. Martin Cooper found himself tripping over his phone cord when he saw Star Trek appear on the TV playing in the background. Cooper watched with envy as Captain Kirk calmly conversed while walking across an alien landscape. (Laytner, 2011) While Cooper watched Captain Kirk with his communicator, he was bewildered â€Å"And, suddenly theres Captain Kirk talking on his communicator,† remembers Cooper. â€Å"Talking with no dialing!† (Handel, 2005) With the idea set in his mind, he set out to make it a reali ty. In 1973, Martian Cooper, While working for Motorola, he [Cooper] created the first personal cell phone, citing Captain Kirks communicator on Star Trek as an inspiration. His first call on the 28-oz. (800 g) cordless cell phone — dubbed the brick — was to his rival at Bell Labs Research. (Grossman, 2007) However, this big brick of a phone didnt match the likeness of the communicator that Captain Kirk used, so in 1996, Motorola made the first flip phone named StarTAC. (Kessler, 09-0) These clamshell phones were highly sought after and held the cell phone design for many years until touch screen phones recently became more popular. Many Star Trek fans and even older more stubborn non-techies still try to keep the flip phone for the nostalgia of Star Trek and to keep pocket dialing to a minimum. In 1974, Ed Roberts created the Altair 8800, the first minicomputer that came in kits for consumers to put together, yet it wasnt a friendly user system since software wasnt invented yet. The Altair 8800 was named after a space system from the Star Trek series and was the basis for the basic computer language that Bill Gates of Microsoft, Steve Jobs of Apple, and Gordon Moore of Intel used to create new and more user friendly computers. This basic language that Ed Roberts created was inspired by Star Trek (Handel, 2005). When computers became a household name and personal were computers available to the general public, a new development occurred that would be called a laptop. Adam Osborne of Osborne Computer Corporation, the father of portable computers, introduced the first commercially available portable computer with software to run it, named Osborne 1 in 1981 (Scott, n.d.). In 1968, Alan Kay of Xerox made a concept and prototype of a portable information manipulator, named Dynabook, a different form of a portable computer that wasn’t user friendly or available to the general public (Maxwell, 2006). Without software, the Dynabook was hard to understand and use, so the Osborne 1 with its software and graphic interface to allow users to see what they were doing made it a true portable computer. Portable computers got an even newer facelift in 1993 when Robert Haitani developed the Palm Pilot, a first in personal data assistant (PDA) and a new form of portable computers. Robert Haitani, the designer of the Palm Pilot, said his first sketches were influenced by the Enterprise bridge panels and produced it. A few years later there was a combination of cell phones and PDAs since they shared hardware which resembled to the communicator in Star Trek. You could stand there and talk into it like Captain Kirk (Laytner, 2011). The Palm Pilot spanned PDAs which transformed into the current popular trend of tablets and smart phones. All the different technologies incorporated into the tablet and the smart phone can be traced back to their Star Trek influenced roots. Advancements in technology and science have been influenced by many sources. Star Trek played a large role in evolution of the modern technology by influencing many inventors. Even though the original series of Star Trek was written and designed with little to no knowledge of the technological advancements of the times, Gene Rodenberry wrote many views of how life would be with various forms of technology that weren’t even a reality, yet. Works Cited Grossman, Lev. (2007). Best inventions of 2007. Time. Retrieved from http://www.time.com/time/specials/2007/article/0,28804,1677329_1677708_1677825,00.html. (Grossman, 2007) Time listed the best inventions and inventors of the 2007, and they had Martin Cooper listed for creating the first mobile telephone that wasnt mounted in a car in 1973. Laytner, Lance. (2011). Edit international. Retrieved from http://www.editinternational.com/read.php?id=4810edf3a83f8 (Laytner, 2011) Talks about the documentary How William Shatner Changed The World and the many inventions of many inventors help shaped the world now because they were influenced by Star Trek to reach for the future. Maxwell, John (2006) Tracing the Dynabook: A Study of Technocultural Transformations http://thinkubator.ccsp.sfu.ca/Dynabook/Maxwell-DynabookFinal.pdf (Maxwell, 2006) This thesis paper was great detail on Alan Kay, who made a from of portable computer that manipulated information, and his accomplishments and how the Dynabook became what it did. Handel, Alan. (Writer) (2005). How William Shatner Changed The World [Web]. Retrieved from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u304yVYoCJs

Pollution and Plunging Male Fertility :: Pollution Environment Environmental

Pollution and Plunging Male Fertility Several reliable studies have confirmed that fertility among men has decreased as a result of pollution. The average male ejaculation is about three milliliters. This amount of semen can contain between 20 million to 300 million sperm per milliliter semen. To determine the approximate number of sperm per milliliter of semen, technicians must place a drop of semen on a slide and, while looking through a microscope, they count the sperm within a certain sector. Men that have sperm counts below 20 million per milliliter are said to have reduced fertility and those whose counts fall below 5 million are considered sterile. In 1974, C. M. Kinloch-Nelson and Raymond G. Bunge at the University of Iowa, studied the semen quality of men who had fathered two or more children and were about to undergo vasectomies. Of the 386 fertile men studied, 7% of them had sperm concentrations above 100 million per millimeter and the average concentration was 48 million. When they compared their findings to similar studies done in the thirties, they found that sperm counts had been decreasing for 50 years. "They discovered that among healthy adult males who were not being treated for infertility, the average sperm count had declined by about 40 percent, from 120 million sperm cells per milliliter of semen to about 70 million" (Big Drop 36). In 1979, a professor at Florida State University, upon analyzing student semen samples discovered surprisingly low sperm counts and alarmingly high levels of toxic chemicals (including DDT and PLB's). "He suggested that environmental pollution might be causing the sperm decline" (Big Drop 36). The results of his findings triggered studies all over the world, showing counts in the range from 55 to 75 million and others showing numbers well above 100 million. Men exposed to high levels of toxic chemicals on the job were found to have semen containing pollutants. "Most scientists held to the view that changes in counting techniques were responsible for the reported dip" and . . . "after a few headlines, the sperm crisis became yesterday's news" (Big Drop 36). In 1996, Niels E. Skakkebk, a Danish pediatric endocrinologist, began studying male infertility and growth disorders among children . He had been noticing numerous boys with testicles that had not descended and malformed genitals. A study done in 1984 examining 2,000 Danish school boys showed that 7% of them had one or both testicles still inside their bodies.

T.S. Eliots The Wasteland Essay -- Eliot Wasteland Essays

T.S. Eliot's The Wasteland Traditionally, authors begin their compositions at the beginning and then proceed to an end, creating a logical flow of information towards a conclusion. T.S. Eliot threw most traditional form out the window as he composed The Waste Land. The voice changes, the structure varies, his allusions are elusive, and the first section of the poem is entitled â€Å"The Burial of The Dead.† This of course does not speak to a beginning, but to the conclusion of what could be one or many lives. Even before this heading, the epigraph evokes the feeling of something, (a something that the reader must work to comprehend) almost eternal, reflecting on a lifetime (an ‘almost eternal’ lifetime) with a melancholic eye. The reader of the poem begins with reflections on a life, a universal life, and with this understanding we can begin to unpack some of the images and make sense of the major themes of the poem. Without reading the entire poem, one can not hope to catch the significance of the initial passage or the epigraph; conversely, one might not comprehend the poem as a cohesive unit without its opening lines. Unlike Eliot, let us start with the genesis of the poem; ‘The Burial of The Dead.’ A major difficulty of this poem is its apparent lack of a single speaker. If there is an identifiable or specific speaker, they are contained within a few lines and then disappear into the background of the poem. The first seven lines are second or third person, singular or plural is not made clear. We are not given any perspective for these lines; therefore, the reader has nothing with which to orient himself. The vertigo continues once the language is taken into consideration. What do we make of his confl... ...events from ancient to present, coming together in one piece to produce a single feeling. Eliot sums up this feeling with the title. At once everything is connected through the poem and yet disconnected by time, place, and experience. I mentioned that the poem’s epigraph implied a reflection on an almost eternal life, The Sibyl (as well as Tiresias later in the poem) mirrors civilization’s history and the poem itself. Where Sibyl will not die she is in the process of decay, where history has not stopped it has broken down to a waste land. By bringing together these ‘broken images,’ Eliot constructed a summation of thousands of years of history. Many voices all speaking at once, alienated from one another by different times, different thoughts, and different experiences but connected through society’s common sub-consciousness and brought together by The Waste Land.

The Lost Symbol Chapter 93-97

CHAPTER 93 Franklin Square is located in the northwest quadrant of downtown Washington, bordered by K and Thirteenth streets. It is home to many historic buildings, most notably the Franklin School, from which Alexander Graham Bell sent the world's first wireless message in 1880. High above the square, a fast-moving UH-60 helicopter approached from the west, having completed its journey from the National Cathedral in a matter of minutes. Plenty of time, Sato thought, peering down at the square below. She knew it was critical that her men got into position undetected before their target arrived. He said he wouldn't be here for at least twenty minutes. On Sato's command, the pilot performed a â€Å"touch-hover† on the roof of the tallest building around–the renowned One Franklin Square–a towering and prestigious office building with two gold spires on top. The maneuver was illegal, of course, but the chopper was there only a few seconds, and its skids barely touched the gravel rooftop. Once everyone had jumped out, the pilot immediately lifted off, banking to the east, where he would climb to â€Å"silent altitude† and provide invisible support from above. Sato waited as her field team collected their things and prepared Bellamy for his task. The Architect was still looking dazed from having seen the file on Sato's secure laptop. As I said . . . an issue of national security. Bellamy had quickly understood Sato's meaning and was now fully cooperative. â€Å"All set, ma'am,† Agent Simkins said. On Sato's command, the agents ushered Bellamy across the rooftop and disappeared down a stairwell, heading for ground level to take up their positions. Sato walked to the edge of the building and gazed down. The rectangular wooded park below filled the entire block. Plenty of cover. Sato's team fully understood the importance of making an undetected intercept. If their target sensed a presence here and decided just to slip away . . . the director didn't even want to think about it. The wind up here was gusty and cold. Sato wrapped her arms around herself, and planted her feet firmly to avoid getting blown over the edge. From this high vantage point, Franklin Square looked smaller than she recalled, with fewer buildings. She wondered which building was Eight Franklin Square. This was information she had requested from her analyst Nola, from whom she expected word at any moment. Bellamy and the agents now appeared, looking like ants fanning out into the darkness of the wooded area. Simkins positioned Bellamy in a clearing near the center of the deserted park. Then Simkins and his team melted into the natural cover, disappearing from view. Within seconds, Bellamy was alone, pacing and shivering in the light of a streetlamp near the center of the park. Sato felt no pity. She lit a cigarette and took a long drag, savoring the warmth as it permeated her lungs. Satisfied that everything below was in order, she stepped back from the edge to await her two phone calls–one from her analyst Nola and one from Agent Hartmann, whom she had sent to Kalorama Heights. CHAPTER 94 Slow down! Langdon gripped the backseat of the Escalade as it flew around a corner, threatening to tip up on two tires. CIA agent Hartmann was either eager to show off his driving skills to Katherine, or he had orders to get to Peter Solomon before Solomon recuperated enough to say anything he shouldn't say to the local authorities. The high-speed game of beat-the-red-light on Embassy Row had been worrisome enough, but now they were racing through the winding residential neighborhood of Kalorama Heights. Katherine shouted directions as they went, having been to this man's house earlier that afternoon. With every turn, the leather bag at Langdon's feet rocked back and forth, and Langdon could hear the clank of the capstone, which had clearly been jarred from the top of the pyramid and was now bouncing around in the bottom of his bag. Fearing it might get damaged, he fished around inside until he found it. It was still warm, but the glowing text had now faded and disappeared, returning to its original engraving: The secret hides within The Order. As Langdon was about to place the capstone in a side pocket, he noticed its elegant surface was covered with tiny white gobs of something. Puzzled, he tried to wipe them off, but they were stuck on and hard to the touch . . . like plastic. What in the world? He could now see that the surface of the stone pyramid itself was also covered with the little white dots. Langdon used his fingernail and picked one off, rolling it between his fingers. â€Å"Wax?† he blurted. Katherine glanced over her shoulder. â€Å"What?† â€Å"There are bits of wax all over the pyramid and capstone. I don't understand it. Where could that possibly have come from?† â€Å"Something in your bag, maybe?† â€Å"I don't think so.† As they rounded a corner, Katherine pointed through the windshield and turned to Agent Hartmann. â€Å"That's it! We're here.† Langdon glanced up and saw the spinning lights of a security vehicle parked in a driveway up ahead. The driveway gate was pulled aside and the agent gunned the SUV inside the compound. The house was a spectacular mansion. Every light inside was ablaze, and the front door was wide open. A half-dozen vehicles were parked haphazardly in the driveway and on the lawn, apparently having arrived in a hurry. Some of the cars were still running and had their headlights shining, most on the house, but one askew, practically blinding them as they drove in. Agent Hartmann skidded to a stop on the lawn beside a white sedan with a brightly colored decal: PREFERRED SECURITY. The spinning lights and the high beams in their face made it hard to see. Katherine immediately jumped out and raced for the house. Langdon heaved his bag onto his shoulder without taking the time to zip it up. He followed Katherine at a jog across the lawn toward the open front door. The sounds of voices echoed within. Behind Langdon, the SUV chirped as Agent Hartmann locked the vehicle and hurried after them. Katherine bounded up the porch stairs, through the main door, and disappeared into the entryway. Langdon crossed the threshold behind her and could see Katherine was already moving across the foyer and down the main hallway toward the sound of voices. Beyond her, visible at the end of the hall, was a dining-room table where a woman in a security uniform was sitting with her back to them. â€Å"Officer!† Katherine shouted as she ran. â€Å"Where is Peter Solomon?† Langdon rushed after her, but as he did so, an unexpected movement caught his eye. To his left, through the living-room window, he could see the driveway gate was now swinging shut. Odd. Something else caught his eye . . . something that had been hidden from him by the glare of the spinning lights and the blinding high beams when they drove in. The half-dozen cars parked haphazardly in the driveway looked nothing like the police cars and emergency vehicles Langdon had imagined they were. A Mercedes? . . . a Hummer? . . . a Tesla Roadster? In that instant, Langdon also realized the voices he heard in the house were nothing but a television blaring in the direction of the dining room. Wheeling in slow motion, Langdon shouted down the hallway. â€Å"Katherine, wait!† But as he turned, he could see that Katherine Solomon was no longer running. She was airborne. CHAPTER 95 Katherine Solomon knew she was falling . . . but she couldn't figure out why. She had been running down the hall toward the security guard in the dining room when suddenly her feet had become entangled in an invisible obstacle, and her entire body had lurched forward, sailing through the air. Now she was returning to earth . . . in this case, a hardwood floor. Katherine crashed down on her stomach, the wind driven violently from her lungs. Above her, a heavy coat tree teetered precariously and then toppled over, barely missing her on the floor. She raised her head, still gasping for breath, puzzled to see that the female security guard in the chair had not moved a muscle. Stranger still, the toppled coat tree appeared to have a thin wire attached to the bottom, which had been stretched across the hallway. Why in the world would someone . . . ? â€Å"Katherine!† Langdon was shouting to her, and as Katherine rolled onto her side and looked back at him, she felt her blood turn to ice. Robert! Behind you! She tried to scream, but she was still gasping for breath. All she could do was watch in terrifying slow motion as Langdon rushed down the hall to help her, completely unaware that behind him, Agent Hartmann was staggering across the threshold and clutching his throat. Blood sprayed through Hartmann's hands as he groped at the handle of a long screwdriver that protruded from his neck. As the agent pitched forward, his attacker came into full view. My God . . . no! Naked except for a strange undergarment that looked like a loincloth, the massive man had apparently been hiding in the foyer. His muscular body was covered from head to toe with strange tattoos. The front door was swinging closed, and he was rushing down the hall after Langdon. Agent Hartmann hit the floor just as the front door slammed shut. Langdon looked startled and whirled around, but the tattooed man was already on him, thrusting some kind of device into his back. There was a flash of light and a sharp electrical sizzle, and Katherine saw Langdon go rigid. Eyes frozen wide, Langdon lurched forward, collapsing down in a paralyzed heap. He fell hard on top of his leather bag, the pyramid tumbling out onto the floor. Without so much as a glance down at his victim, the tattooed man stepped over Langdon and headed directly for Katherine. She was already crawling backward into the dining room, where she collided with a chair. The female security guard, who had been propped in that chair, now wobbled and dropped to the floor in a heap beside her. The woman's lifeless expression was one of terror. Her mouth was stuffed with a rag. The enormous man had reached her before Katherine had time to react. He seized her by the shoulders with impossible strength. His face, no longer covered by makeup, was an utterly terrifying sight. His muscles flexed, and she felt herself being flipped over onto her stomach like a rag doll. A heavy knee ground into her back, and for a moment, she thought she would break in two. He grabbed her arms and pulled them backward. With her head now turned to one side and her cheek pressed into the carpet, Katherine could see Langdon, his body still jerking, facing away from her. Beyond that, Agent Hartmann lay motionless in the foyer. Cold metal pinched Katherine's wrists, and she realized she was being bound with wire. In terror, she tried to pull away, but doing so sent searing pain into her hands. â€Å"This wire will cut you if you move,† the man said, finishing with her wrists and moving down to her ankles with frightening efficiency. Katherine kicked at him, and he threw a powerful fist into the back of her right thigh, crippling her leg. Within seconds, her ankles were bound. â€Å"Robert!† she now managed to call out. Langdon was groaning on the floor in the hallway. He lay crumpled on his leather bag with the stone pyramid lying on its side near his head. Katherine realized the pyramid was her last hope. â€Å"We deciphered the pyramid!† she told her attacker. â€Å"I'll tell you everything!† â€Å"Yes, you will.† With that, he pulled the cloth from the dead woman's mouth and firmly stuffed it into Katherine's. It tasted like death. Robert Langdon's body was not his own. He lay, numb and immobile, his cheek pressed against the hardwood floor. He had heard enough about stun guns to know they crippled their victims by temporarily overloading the nervous system. Their action–something called electromuscular disruption–might as well have been a bolt of lightning. The excruciating jolt of pain seemed to penetrate every molecule of his body. Now, despite his mind's focused intention, his muscles refused to obey the command he was sending them. Get up! Facedown, paralyzed on the floor, Langdon was gulping shallow breaths, scarcely able to inhale. He had yet to lay eyes on the man who had attacked him, but he could see Agent Hartmann lying in an expanding pool of blood. Langdon had heard Katherine struggling and arguing, but moments ago her voice had become muffled, as if the man had stuffed something in her mouth. Get up, Robert! You've got to help her! Langdon's legs were tingling now, a fiery and painful recovery of feeling, but still they refused to cooperate. Move! His arms twitched as sensation started to come back, along with feeling in his face and neck. With great effort, he managed to rotate his head, dragging his cheek roughly across the hardwood floor as he turned his head to look down into the dining room. Langdon's sight line was impeded–by the stone pyramid, which had toppled out of his bag and was lying sideways on the floor, its base inches from his face. For an instant, Langdon didn't understand what he was looking at. The square of stone before him was obviously the base of the pyramid, and yet it looked somehow different. Very different. It was still square, and still stone . . . but it was no longer flat and smooth. The base of the pyramid was covered with engraved markings. How is this possible? He stared for several seconds, wondering if he was hallucinating. I looked at the base of this pyramid a dozen times . . . and there were no markings! Langdon now realized why. His breathing reflex kick-started, and he drew a sudden gasp of air, realizing that the Masonic Pyramid had secrets yet to share. I have witnessed another transformation. In a flash, Langdon understood the meaning of Galloway's last request. Tell Peter this: The Masonic Pyramid has always kept her secret . . . sincerely. The words had seemed strange at the time, but now Langdon understood that Dean Galloway was sending Peter a code. Ironically, this same code had been a plot twist in a mediocre thriller Langdon had read years ago. Sin-cere. Since the days of Michelangelo, sculptors had been hiding the flaws in their work by smearing hot wax into the cracks and then dabbing the wax with stone dust. The method was considered cheating, and therefore, any sculpture â€Å"without wax†Ã¢â‚¬â€œliterally sine cera–was considered a â€Å"sincere† piece of art. The phrase stuck. To this day we still sign our letters â€Å"sincerely† as a promise that we have written â€Å"without wax† and that our words are true. The engravings on the base of this pyramid had been concealed by the same method. When Katherine followed the capstone's directions and boiled the pyramid, the wax melted away, revealing the writing on the base. Galloway had run his hands over the pyramid in the sitting room, apparently feeling the markings exposed on the bottom. Now, if only for an instant, Langdon had forgotten all the danger he and Katherine faced. He stared at the incredible array of symbols on the base of the pyramid. He had no idea what they meant . . . or what they would ultimately reveal, but one thing was for certain. The Masonic Pyramid has secrets left to tell. Eight Franklin Square is not the final answer. Whether it was this adrenaline-filled revelation or simply the extra few seconds lying there, Langdon did not know, but he suddenly felt control returning to his body. Painfully, he swept an arm to one side, pushing the leather bag out of the way to clear his sight line into the dining room. To his horror, he saw that Katherine had been tied up, and a large rag had been stuffed deep into her mouth. Langdon flexed his muscles, trying to climb to his knees, but a moment later, he froze in utter disbelief. The dining-room doorway had just filled with a chilling sight–a human form unlike anything Langdon had ever seen. What in the name of God . . . ?! Langdon rolled, kicking with his legs, trying to back away, but the huge tattooed man grabbed him, flipping him onto his back and straddling his chest. He placed his knees on Langdon's biceps, pinning Langdon pain fully to the floor. The man's chest bore a rippling double-headed phoenix. His neck, face, and shaved head were covered with a dazzling array of unusually intricate symbols–sigils, Langdon knew–which were used in the rituals of dark ceremonial magic. Before Langdon could process anything more, the huge man clasped Langdon's ears between his palms, lifted his head up off the floor, and, with incredible force, smashed it back down onto the hardwood. Everything went black. CHAPTER 96 Mal'akh stood in his hallway and surveyed the carnage around him. His home looked like a battlefield. Robert Langdon lay unconscious at his feet. Katherine Solomon was bound and gagged on the dining-room floor. The corpse of a female security guard lay crumpled nearby, having toppled off the chair where she was propped. This female guard, eager to save her own life, had done exactly as Mal'akh commanded. With a knife to her throat, she had answered Mal'akh's cell phone and told the lie that had coaxed Langdon and Katherine to come racing out here. She had no partner, and Peter Solomon was certainly not okay. As soon as the woman had given her performance, Mal'akh had quietly strangled her. To complete the illusion that Mal'akh was not home, he had phoned Bellamy using the hands- free speaker in one of his cars. I'm on the road, he had told Bellamy and whoever else had been listening. Peter is in my trunk. In fact, Mal'akh was driving only between his garage and his front yard, where he had left several of his myriad cars parked askew with the headlights on and the engines running. The deception had worked perfectly. Almost. The only wrinkle was the bloody black-clad heap in the foyer with a screwdriver protruding from his neck. Mal'akh searched the corpse and had to chuckle when he found a high-tech transceiver and cell phone with a CIA logo. It seems even they are aware of my power. He removed the batteries and crushed both devices with a heavy bronze doorstop. Mal'akh knew he had to move quickly now, especially if the CIA was involved. He strode back over to Langdon. The professor was out cold and would be for a while. Mal'akh's eyes moved with trepidation now to the stone pyramid on the floor beside the professor's open bag. His breath caught, and his heart pounded. I have waited for years . . . His hands trembled slightly as he reached down and picked up the Masonic Pyramid. As he ran his fingers slowly across the engravings, he felt awed by their promise. Before he became too entranced, he put the pyramid back in Langdon's bag with the capstone and zipped it up. I will assemble the pyramid soon . . . in a much safer location. He threw Langdon's bag over his shoulder and then tried to hoist Langdon himself, but the professor's toned physique weighed much more than anticipated. Mal'akh settled on grabbing him beneath the armpits and dragging him across the floor. He's not going to like where he ends up, Mal'akh thought. As he dragged Langdon off, the television in the kitchen blared. The sound of voices from the TV had been part of the deception, and Mal'akh had yet to turn it off. The station was now broadcasting a televangelist leading his congregation in the Lord's Prayer. Mal'akh wondered if any of his hypnotized viewers had any idea where this prayer really came from. † . . . On earth as it is in heaven . . .† the group intoned. Yes, Mal'akh thought. As above, so below. † . . . And lead us not into temptation . . .† Help us master the weakness of our flesh. † . . . Deliver us from evil . . .† they all beseeched. Mal'akh smiled. That could be difficult. The darkness is growing. Even so, he had to give them credit for trying. Humans who spoke to invisible forces and requested help were a dying breed in this modern world. Mal'akh was dragging Langdon across the living room when the congregation declared, â€Å"Amen!† Amon, Mal'akh corrected. Egypt is the cradle of your religion. The god Amon was the prototype for Zeus . . . for Jupiter . . . and for every modern face of God. To this day, every religion on earth shouted out a variation of his name. Amen! Amin! Aum! The televangelist began quoting verses from the Bible describing hierarchies of angels, demons, and spirits that ruled in heaven and hell. â€Å"Protect your souls from evil forces!† he warned them. â€Å"Lift your hearts in prayer! God and his angels will hear you!† He's right, Mal'akh knew. But so will the demons. Mal'akh had learned long ago that through proper application of the Art, a practitioner could open a portal to the spiritual realm. The invisible forces that existed there, much like man himself, came in many forms, both good and evil. Those of Light healed, protected, and sought to bring order to the universe. Those of Dark functioned oppositely . . . bringing destruction and chaos. If properly summoned, the invisible forces could be persuaded to do a practitioner's bidding on earth . . . thus instilling him with seemingly supernatural power. In exchange for helping the summoner, these forces required offerings–prayers and praise for those of Light . . . and the spilling of blood for those of Dark. The greater the sacrifice, the greater the power that is transferred. Mal'akh had begun his practice with the blood of inconsequential animals. Over time, however, his choices for sacrifice had become more bold. Tonight, I take the final step. â€Å"Beware!† the preacher shouted, warning of the coming Apocalypse. â€Å"The final battle for the souls of man will soon be fought!† Indeed, Mal'akh thought. And I shall become its greatest warrior. This battle, of course, had begun long, long ago. In ancient Egypt, those who perfected the Art had become the great Adepts of history, evolving beyond the masses to become true practitioners of Light. They moved as gods on earth. They built great temples of initiation to which neophytes traveled from around the world to partake of the wisdom. There arose a race of golden men. For a brief span of time, mankind seemed poised to elevate himself and transcend his earthly bonds. The golden age of the Ancient Mysteries. And yet man, being of the flesh, was susceptible to the sins of hubris, hatred, impatience, and greed. Over time, there were those who corrupted the Art, perverting it and abusing its power for personal gain. They began using this perverted version to summon dark forces. A different Art evolved . . . a more potent, immediate, and intoxicating influence. Such is my Art. Such is my Great Work. The illuminated Adepts and their esoteric fraternities witnessed the rising evil and saw that man was not using his newfound knowledge for the good of his species. And so they hid their wisdom to keep it from the eyes of the unworthy. Eventually, it was lost to history. With this came the Great Fall of Man. And a lasting darkness. To this day, the noble descendants of the Adepts soldiered on, grasping blindly for the Light, trying to recapture the lost power of their past, trying to keep the darkness at bay. They were the priests and priestesses of the churches, temples, and shrines of all the religions on earth. Time had erased the memories . . . detached them from their past. They no longer knew the Source from which their potent wisdom had once flowed. When they were asked about the divine mysteries of their forebears, the new custodians of faith vociferously disowned them, condemning them as heresy. Have they truly forgotten? Mal'akh wondered. Echoes of the ancient Art still resonated in every corner of the globe, from the mystical Kabbalists of Judaism to the esoteric Sufis of Islam. Vestiges remained in the arcane rituals of Christianity, in its god-eating rites of Holy Communion, its hierarchies of saints, angels, and demons, its chanting and incantation, its holy calendar's astrological underpinnings, its consecrated robes, and in its promise of everlasting life. Even now, its priests dispelled evil spirits by swinging smoke-filled censers, ringing sacred bells, and sprinkling holy water. Christians still practiced the supernatural craft of exorcism–an early practice of their faith that required the ability not only to cast out demons but to summon them. And yet they cannot see their past? Nowhere was the church's mystical past more evident than at her epicenter. In Vatican City, at the heart of St. Peter's Square, stood the great Egyptian obelisk. Carved thirteen hundred years before Jesus took his first breath–this numinous monolith had no relevance there, no link to modern Christianity. And yet there it was. At the core of Christ's church. A stone beacon, screaming to be heard. A reminder to those few sages who remembered where it all began. This church, born of the womb of the Ancient Mysteries, still bore her rites and symbols. One symbol above all. Adorning her altars, vestments, spires, and Scripture was the singular image of Christianity–that of a precious, sacrificed human being. Christianity, more than any other faith, understood the transformative power of sacrifice. Even now, to honor the sacrifice made by Jesus, his followers proffered their own feeble gestures of personal sacrifice . . . fasting, Lenten renunciation, tithing. All of those offerings are impotent, of course. Without blood . . . there is no true sacrifice. The powers of darkness had long embraced blood sacrifice, and in doing so, they had grown so strong that the powers of goodness now struggled to keep them in check. Soon the Light would be entirely consumed, and the practitioners of darkness would move freely through the minds of men. CHAPTER 97 â€Å"Eight Franklin Square must exist,† Sato insisted. â€Å"Look it up again!† Nola Kaye sat at her desk and adjusted her headset. â€Å"Ma'am, I've checked everywhere . . . that address doesn't exist in D.C.† â€Å"But I'm on the roof of One Franklin Square,† Sato said. â€Å"There has to be an Eight!† Director Sato's on a roof? â€Å"Hold on.† Nola began running a new search. She was considering telling the OS director about the hacker, but Sato seemed fixated on Eight Franklin Square at the moment. Besides, Nola still didn't have all the information. Where's that damned sys-sec, anyway? â€Å"Okay,† Nola said, eyeing her screen, â€Å"I see the problem. One Franklin Square is the name of the building . . . not the address. The address is actually 1301 K Street.† The news seemed to confound the director. â€Å"Nola, I don't have time to explain–the pyramid clearly points to the address Eight Franklin Square.† Nola sat bolt upright. The pyramid points to a specific location? â€Å"The inscription,† Sato continued, â€Å"reads: `The secret hides within The Order–Eight Franklin Square.'† Nola could scarcely imagine. â€Å"An order like . . . a Masonic or fraternal order?† â€Å"I assume so,† Sato replied. Nola thought a moment, and then began typing again. â€Å"Ma'am, maybe the street numbers on the square changed over the years? I mean, if this pyramid is as old as legend claims, maybe the numbers on Franklin Square were different when the pyramid was built? I'm now running a search without the number eight . . . for . . . `the order' . . . `Franklin Square' . . . and `Washington, D.C.' . . . and this way, we might get some idea if there's–† She stalled midsentence as the search results appeared. â€Å"What have you got?† Sato demanded. Nola stared at the first result on the list–a spectacular image of the Great Pyramid of Egypt– which served as the thematic backdrop for the home page dedicated to a building on Franklin Square. The building was unlike any other building on the square. Or in the entire city, for that matter. What stopped Nola cold was not the building's bizarre architecture, but rather the description of its purpose. According to the Web site, this unusual edifice was built as a sacred mystical shrine, designed by . . . and designed for . . . an ancient secret order.

3 Ways You Can Make an Impact at Your Internship

3 Ways You Can Make an Impact at Your Internship In many areas of the world- especially the United States- job title and status  are an incredibly important factor to  the way society perceives you. It’s not uncommon for your  job title to hold more influence and status than your actual job description.  As an intern myself, I can vouch for that.  I have had first-hand experience in having my hand held  and being treated as if I’m significantly less competent  by  people who have been out of college  for a mere 3 years. But here’s the thing: success is  all about perspective, goals, and influence. Making an impact has very little to do with title and a lot to do with influence. I can choose to be offended by the way people treat me because of my intern status, or I can shift my perspective, set goals for myself, and grow my influence.All you need to do is ask yourself how you can make an impact in your company as an intern. What is your goal at the end of your  internship? It could be as s imple as getting a full-time position or finding out if  you’re in  the field you truly want to be in. As long as you have a goal in mind, you can set sail and proceed in the right direction.There is no one-size-fits-all method to get there, of course, but here are 3 ways you can make an impact at your internship and begin growing your influence and professional career.1.  Visualize the results you wantvia [giphy.com]Think of it this way- if you’re going shopping and walk into a store with no list, you might spend an entire day searching for just a few things. If you walk into the store with a list, it might take half the time to get the same task  done.The same concept can applied to an internship. Once you have a list of things you want to accomplish, you can work at a more efficient pace. Sit down with a supervisor, manager, or even a coworker who has more experience and go over your responsibilities and how they relate to the goals of the company.At my inte rnship,  I am responsible with managing two blogs for our company, so I block out time in my calendar to meet with two different people in my marketing team in order to go over my progress, current goals, future goals, and responsibilities. I do this twice a week and it helps me align what I’m trying to accomplish for myself with what the company wants to  do.2.  Show you’re hungry and ready to learnvia [giphy.com]At my internship, I’m always brainstorming ideas- not because I have an agenda, but because I’m genuinely involved and I enjoy marketing. I try to make the best of my 8 hours.  In order to begin making an impact, it’s important to take a similar approach. Even so, you also have to do your best to be a team player and help those around you. When a miscellaneous assignment comes my way, even if I have a million things on my plate, I do my best to find some time to tackle it.Being a team player is important, and showing you can help serve the needs of others and the company are characteristics of an effective leader- which also ties into growing your influence.Don’t be insulted when you get bombarded with menial tasks. I used to feel the same way. Instead, think of it as an opportunity to showcase how responsible you are. It’s an opportunity for you to show your team you can be trusted. With trust comes more responsibility. It’s okay to have a little voice in the back of your head saying â€Å"you’re better than this† because that’s entirely true, but the people around you don’t know that yet, so show them!3.   Know the essence of your charactervia [giphy.com]Having strong work ethic is important. You need to attend meetings, complete projects, meet deadlines, and contribute to the company- but one thing that truly stands the test of time is the content of your character.  Are you honest? Are you trustworthy? Do you have empathy for your fellow man? These cha racteristics are important building blocks to authentically building your influence.Most people these days are tired of the stereotypical  bad guy CEO. Things are changing and the corporate world isn’t as cutthroat as it used to be.  People prefer working with someone who is a good person and doesn’t just look out for themselves.Disclaimervia [giphy.com]There is an important caveat  that you should take away from all of this- professional change isn’t something that will happen overnight. It  will take time. At first, it may not feel natural,  but over time it will become habitual. Focus on growing yourself professionally and becoming a better person.Remember, it’s about more than just the workplace. You have to focus on yourself outside of work as well. Take the time to become a better version of you.  Titles are reactive. Influence is proactive.

MCAT Fee Assistance Program (FAP)

MCAT Fee Assistance Program (FAP) When you find yourself interested in medical school, and as such, the MCAT exam, but also find yourself a little lacking in the funds necessary  to get you there, then the AAMC offers you a way to get what you want without the hefty price tag attached: The Fee Assistance Program or FAP. Below, youll find out the basics about the Fee Assistance Program, the benefits of the program and the ways to obtain assistance if you qualify. Read on for the details before you register! Fee Assistance Basics The AAMC started the Fee Assistance Program to help those students who wanted to apply to medical school with the American Medical School Application Service (AMCAS) or take the MCAT, but couldnt do so because the cost of both was too prohibitive. Medical schools that accept the AMCAS, also decided to help those applicants out, too. Students who have received aid from the AAMC through the Fee Assistance Program, often get their application fees waived, too. Bonus! Benefits So, what exactly is offered with the Fee Assistance Program? Starting on January 2, 2014, recipients of the FAP will get the following: A reduction in the MCAT registration feeA reduction in the MCAT rescheduling fee if it is requiredA free copy of the MCAT prep book, The Official Guide to the MCAT Exam (worth about $30)A free authorization code to The Official MCAT Self-Assessment package (worth about $104).Free admission to MSAR (Medical School Admission Requirements), a suite of guides to help students prepare for medical school and the application process (worth about $22)A waiver for all AMCAS fees for up to 15 medical schools (worth about $650) Please keep in mind that these benefits are not retroactive. For example, if youve taken the MCAT and wish to apply to medical schools and have your fees waived, even if you are accepted into the FAP, your MCAT registration fees will not be refunded. They do, however, last five years. So, if youre thinking of taking the MCAT, but youre unsure about when youd like to apply to medical school, go ahead and apply for FAP if you think youll qualify because you have time to make your decision before your benefits run out. Eligibility With benefits as fantastic as those, obviously, everyone cannot qualify. So, what are the qualifications for the program? The AAMC considers the Department of Health and Human Services poverty level guidelines when making their fee assistance decisions. If your familys income is 300%  or less of the poverty level for the previous year for your family size, then you will be automatically approved for fee assistance. You must also be a U.S. citizen, a lawful permanent resident (LPR) of the United States (Green Card holder), or have been granted refugee/asylum status by the U.S. government. Obtaining Assistance If you believe youre eligible for assistance, then youll need to fill out an FAP application, providing the following information: Personal information: Your financial information (adjusted gross income and non-taxable income). Youll include your spouses financial information if applicable, as well.Parental information: Your parents financial information (adjusted gross income and non-taxable income) regardless of whether youre dependent or not and regardless of your age. The only time you will not provide this information is if your parents are deceased.Supporting documentation: Tax filers must provide a copy of their Federal Income Tax Forms (1040, 1040A, 1040EZ, etc.) for the previous calendar year. Non-tax filers are required to provide copies of W-2 forms for the previous calendar year. Students whose primary source of support was educational aid/scholarships must provide a copy of their Financial Aid Award Letter.Cover letter: You and your parents must print and sign the FAP Supporting Documentation Cover Letter. The AAMC requests that you allow approximately 15 days for final FAP decisions. Submitting Your Application Ready to apply? Complete your FAP application here!