Free Essays on From The New World

Dvorak?s ?From the New World? The late nineteenth century America was a place of energy, vigor, and youth; at least that was how it was seen through the eyes of one of the greatest Czech composers in history, Antonin Leopold Dvorak. Born September 8, 1841, he was the son of a butcher and innkeeper in a poor unsophisticated town, Nelahozeves. Surprisingly enough, from these humble beginnings Dvorak would go on to become one of the most renowned Bohemian composers and forever leave his mark in history as influencing not only his native Czech nationalistic school, but helping to pave the way for Americans to develop their own national music. Dvorak received his first musical education learning to play the violin in his village school. His parents ?recognized their son?s musical talent from the first and did all they could to encourage it? (Boynick). In 1857 he was sent to the Prague Organ School where he graduated as a trained organist, second in his class. After working in Prague for several years giving lessons and attempting to compose, his career was greatly aided by the established composer Johannes Brahms who found Dvorak a publisher and got his career underway. Throughout his career Dvorak derived much guidance from other greats such as Brahms, Liszt, and especially Smetena who started the nationalist movement and whom Dvorak studied under. After a period of being ignored as serious musicians, these composers set forth a standard of nationalistic music that emphasized Slavic folk music & dances and established Czech music on the world scene. In June 1891, after receiving world acclaim for many of his works, Dvorak was offered the post of Director of the National Conservatory of Music in America by Jeannette Thurber. At the time America seemed the promise land for the Czech composer as opposed to his Austrian ruled homeland. With a salary of $15,000 annually, it was a position Dvorak could hardly refuse. It was here, in an ?e... Free Essays on From The New World Free Essays on From The New World Dvorak?s ?From the New World? The late nineteenth century America was a place of energy, vigor, and youth; at least that was how it was seen through the eyes of one of the greatest Czech composers in history, Antonin Leopold Dvorak. Born September 8, 1841, he was the son of a butcher and innkeeper in a poor unsophisticated town, Nelahozeves. Surprisingly enough, from these humble beginnings Dvorak would go on to become one of the most renowned Bohemian composers and forever leave his mark in history as influencing not only his native Czech nationalistic school, but helping to pave the way for Americans to develop their own national music. Dvorak received his first musical education learning to play the violin in his village school. His parents ?recognized their son?s musical talent from the first and did all they could to encourage it? (Boynick). In 1857 he was sent to the Prague Organ School where he graduated as a trained organist, second in his class. After working in Prague for several years giving lessons and attempting to compose, his career was greatly aided by the established composer Johannes Brahms who found Dvorak a publisher and got his career underway. Throughout his career Dvorak derived much guidance from other greats such as Brahms, Liszt, and especially Smetena who started the nationalist movement and whom Dvorak studied under. After a period of being ignored as serious musicians, these composers set forth a standard of nationalistic music that emphasized Slavic folk music & dances and established Czech music on the world scene. In June 1891, after receiving world acclaim for many of his works, Dvorak was offered the post of Director of the National Conservatory of Music in America by Jeannette Thurber. At the time America seemed the promise land for the Czech composer as opposed to his Austrian ruled homeland. With a salary of $15,000 annually, it was a position Dvorak could hardly refuse. It was here, in an ?e...

How to Communicate Uncertainty When Speaking Japanese

How to Communicate Uncertainty When Speaking Japanese Most English speakers are probably not familiar with the subjunctive, as it only appears very rarely there. However, speakers of Spanish or French know it well, because they communicate theoretical ideas with if, might, or maybe by conjugating subjunctive verb forms. While there is no subjunctive mood or verb form in Japanese, there are several ways to express uncertainty.  Related concepts when learning the language include the conditional or potential. Darou, Deshou, and Tabun Darou is a plain form of deshou, and means will probably. The adverb tabun (perhaps) is sometimes added. Kare wa ashita kuru deshou.Ã¥ ½ ¼Ã£  ¯Ã¦ËœÅ½Ã¦â€" ¥Ã¦  ¥Ã£â€šâ€¹Ã£  §Ã£ â€"ょ㠁†ï ½ ¡ "He will probably come tomorrow." Ashita wa hareru darou.明æâ€" ¥Ã£  ¯Ã¦â„¢ ´Ã£â€šÅ'る㠁  Ã£â€š Ã£ â€ Ã¯ ½ ¡ "It will be sunny tomorrow." Kyou haha wa tabun uchi ni iru deshou.ä »Å Ã¦â€" ¥Ã¦ ¯ Ã£  ¯Ã£ Å¸Ã£  ¶Ã£â€šâ€œÃ£ â€ Ã£  ¡Ã£  «Ã£ â€žÃ£â€šâ€¹Ã£  §Ã£ â€"ょ㠁†ï ½ ¡ "My mother will probably be home today." Darou or deshou are also used to form a tag question. In this case, you usually can tell the meaning from the context. Tsukareta deshou.çâ€" ²Ã£â€šÅ'㠁Ÿã  §Ã£ â€"ょ㠁†ï ½ ¡ "You were tired, weren't you?" Kyou wa kyuuryoubi darou.ä »Å Ã¦â€" ¥Ã£  ¯Ã§ µ ¦Ã¦â€"™æâ€" ¥Ã£   Ã£â€š Ã£ â€ Ã¯ ½ ¡ "Today is a payday, isn't it?" Ka, Kashira, Kana, and Kamoshirenai Darou ka or deshou ka are used when guessing with doubt. Kashira is used only by females. A similar expression used by both genders is kana, though it is informal. These expressions are close to I wonder in English. Emi wa mou igirisu ni itta no darou ka.ã‚ ¨Ã£Æ'Ÿã  ¯Ã£â€šâ€šÃ£ â€ Ã£â€š ¤Ã£â€š ®Ã£Æ' ªÃ£â€š ¹Ã£  «Ã¨ ¡Å'㠁 £Ã£ Å¸Ã£  ®Ã£   Ã£â€š Ã£ â€ Ã£ â€¹Ã¯ ½ ¡ "I wonder if Emi has already gone to England." Kore ikura kashira.㠁“ã‚Å'㠁„㠁 Ã£â€šâ€°Ã£ â€¹Ã£ â€"らï ½ ¡ "I wonder how much this is." Nobu wa itsu kuru no kana.㠁 ®Ã£  ¶Ã£  ¯Ã£ â€žÃ£  ¤Ã¦  ¥Ã£â€šâ€¹Ã£  ®Ã£ â€¹Ã£  ªÃ¯ ½ ¡ "I wonder when Nobu will come." Kamoshirenai is used to express a sense of probability or doubt. It shows even less certainty than darou or deshou. It is used when you dont know all the facts and are often just guessing. It is similar to the English expression might be. The formal version of kamoshirenai is kamoshiremasen. Ashita wa ame kamoshirenai.明æâ€" ¥Ã£  ¯Ã©â€º ¨Ã£ â€¹Ã£â€šâ€šÃ£ â€"ã‚Å'㠁 ªÃ£ â€žÃ¯ ½ ¡ "It might rain tomorrow." Kinyoubi desu kara, kondeiru kamoshiremasen.金æ›Å"æâ€" ¥Ã£  §Ã£ â„¢Ã£ â€¹Ã£â€šâ€°Ã¯ ½ ¤ æ · ·Ã£â€šâ€œÃ£  §Ã£ â€žÃ£â€šâ€¹Ã£ â€¹Ã£â€šâ€šÃ£ â€"ã‚Å'㠁 ¾Ã£ â€ºÃ£â€šâ€œÃ¯ ½ ¡ "Since it is Friday, it might be busy." The last thing to mention is, darou and deshou cant be used when referring to ones own actions. For example, one would never say, Ashita watashi wa Kobe ni iku darou to communicate I might go to Kobe tomorrow. This would be grammatically incorrect. Kamoshirenai can be used in these situations, instead. Ashita watashi wa Kobe niiku kamoshirenai.明æâ€" ¥Ã§ § Ã£  ¯Ã§ ¥Å¾Ã¦Ë† ¸Ã£  «Ã¨ ¡Å'㠁 Ã£ â€¹Ã£â€šâ€šÃ£ â€"ã‚Å'㠁 ªÃ£ â€žÃ¯ ½ ¡ "I might go to Kobe tomorrow." Ashita ane wa Kobe ni iku darou.明æâ€" ¥Ã¥ §â€°Ã£  ¯Ã§ ¥Å¾Ã¦Ë† ¸Ã£  «Ã¨ ¡Å'㠁 Ã£   Ã£â€š Ã£ â€ Ã¯ ½ ¡ "My sister might go to Kobe tomorrow." Practice Comparing Sentences Kare wa tabun kin-medaru o toru deshou.Ã¥ ½ ¼Ã£  ¯Ã£ Å¸Ã£  ¶Ã£â€šâ€œÃ©â€¡â€˜Ã£Æ' ¡Ã£Æ'ۋÆ' «Ã£â€šâ€™Ã¥ â€"る㠁 §Ã£ â€"ょ㠁†ï ½ ¡ "He will probably get the gold medal." Kare wa kin-medal o totta no kana.Ã¥ ½ ¼Ã£  ¯Ã©â€¡â€˜Ã£Æ' ¡Ã£Æ'ۋÆ' «Ã£â€šâ€™Ã¥ â€"㠁 £Ã£ Å¸Ã£  ®Ã£ â€¹Ã£  ªÃ¯ ½ ¡ "I wonder if he got the gold medal." Kare wa kin-medaru o toru kamoshirenai.Ã¥ ½ ¼Ã£  ¯Ã©â€¡â€˜Ã£Æ' ¡Ã£Æ'ۋÆ' «Ã£â€šâ€™Ã¥ â€"る㠁‹ã‚‚㠁â€"ã‚Å'㠁 ªÃ£ â€žÃ¯ ½ ¡ "He might get the gold medal."

Knowledge Management, Social Networks and Innovation Assignment

Knowledge Management, Social Networks and Innovation - Assignment Example an explicit asset will be its ultimate product, because as Lytras, Russ and Maier (2008, p. 144) described, KM aims to productize and distribute knowledge within the organization. KM’s overall benefits include forming an ‘organizational learning’ system whereby people in the firm will be bale to gain wide knowledge that is useful for their as well as organization’s common benefits. As Forster (2005, p. 397) denoted, KM is a process that collects, shares and utilizes experience, knowledge, skills and wisdom of employees and they are then converted to a collective organizational learning process. This is how KM helps organizations improve the performance and effectiveness of organizational activities. For instance, a firm may recruit old workforce believing that old-workers are more knowledgeable than young people and they will be retained with a view to make use of their knowledge and experience. This is a strategic way to create new knowledge. They have mor e experience, which can later be transferred to other workforce through collaborative team work or other progressive activities. This is how experience can be converted to knowledge, or knowledge can be created from experience. Young workforce, for instance, will later be able to use their acquired knowledge for the overall organizational benefits. Explicit or Tacit nature of knowledge in relation to creation and sharing Knowledge creation, sharing, transferring and utilizing can be carried out through either papers, documents, database etc or through people’s mind. Explicit knowledge refers to that information being processed through papers, documents or database etc, whereas tacit knowledge is the information that is processed... This paper highlighted that knowledge sharing helps an organization foster innovation as people within its workplace will be motivated to gain newer knowledge, think creatively and bring newer ideas that in turn can help the organization perform better. Social networking is an essentially important means that almost all companies in recent years are extensively using for better knowledge sharing experiences. This paper described the conceptual framework of how social networks improve the effectiveness of KM and the practical issues that are faced by the management in relation to KM and innovation development. This paper approves that KM comprises of people, process and technology. How people use technology for knowledge sharing also impact the results of KM strategy. For far better results, the organization may need to facilitate extensive training for using technology in the KM. People in an organization may be well-versed in using computers, database, software, social networking, etc and as a result the result also will be better than the other way. This paper makes a conclusion that people’s approach and organizational learning culture also impact the KM effectiveness. Management may face severe issues related to employees less awareness of the KM practices, irresponsibility of concerned people, lack of motivation to get involved etc. Problems related to artifacts are also to be considered while implementing a better system of the KM. Artifacts such as manuals, software, networking, papers, documents etc that are used in the KM practice must be appropriate for the ultimate purpose of the processed knowledge.

Ensuring Employees Pay for Extra Cost of Healthcare Essay

Ensuring Employees Pay for Extra Cost of Healthcare - Essay Example Employers should devise an economic program that would ensure employees compensate the extra cost over premiums spent on lifestyle-related diseases. The following is a proposed framework that employers would use to ensure employees pay for extra costs above the coverage premium spent on lifestyle-related conditions. First, employers should schedule all chronic conditions that are lifestyle-related and contribute to the increase in the cost of the premium. A possible list should include conditions such as diabetes, some forms of cancers, heart disease, and obesity-related illnesses. In order to ensure a robust program, accredited health care professionals should approve the scheduled list of complications and ascertain they are lifestyle-related. The second process in the framework should involve calculations of direct and indirect costs incurred from health-related illnesses. The direct cost calculation is simple and can be estimated based on extra expenditure the company has on inpatient and outpatient services. They include extra expenditure on services including surgeries, radiological processes, laboratory tests, and drug therapies. Indirect costs include an estimation of resources forgone by the firm or company because of a lifestyle-related health condition that affects an employee. The value of lost work because of absenteeism should be calculated based on accumulated wages throughout the period. Other forms of indirect cost include the value of increased insurance incurred by the company because of lifestyle-related conditions.  Ã‚  

Stakeholder Influence Essay Example for Free

Stakeholder Influence Essay Programs in the Human Service industry are directly and indirectly affected by its primary, secondary and, key stakeholders. Stakeholders could also be persons who are not directly affected by the program itself. These people can be those who have strong interest in the cause or program, those who are of political and philosophical and academic persons. Stakeholders are not just the funding companies but are also the staff members, the administrators of the program, the community the program wishes to provide services in, other businesses that may be used to serve on behalf of a company or organization and more importantly the people and families of the people who are being helped directly by the program. The needs and expectations of the stakeholders affects a program because it is important to hear everyone’s voice in the building of an organization or program. It is also important to know the expectations in order to create a working program that benefits those that should be benefitted and to acknowledge the concerns of those who will be doing the work or contributing to the program in some way. The needs and expectations of the funding agencies should be met simply because they are the funding agency and have specific drives for what they intend to fund. It is important to honor their wishes so that the program remains funded and the requirements usually shape the program in its entirety. If a funding company wants the program to include more people than what a program wants to help it is because the funding agency has done its research and want to lend more help in areas that may need more help. One of the most important stakeholders in the funding organization. Most often  the funding agencies will have their own expectations for the program and the programs evaluations. The very first need the funding agency may incur is the need for the program to fit into the requirements of the funding. The expectations are that the program does what it says it will and not misappropriates the funds given. The roles and expectations of the administrators in the PEACE Domestic Violence Agency would be to make sure that the staff are doing their jobs to the best of their ability and creating ways to improve those abilities through continuing education, seminars and necessary staff meetings. They should also do internal evaluations to point out the areas that may be lacking and help those to do better. The administrators should make sure that the staff are caring for the clients as they should be without overstepping boundaries into personal attachments that would create conflicts of interests. The program staff should be up to date in human services training and use their skills to properly assist the clients in their development of growing beyond past traumas and learning to make better decisions. They should be aware of all other human services agencies where the clients can get help to live independently. Staff should also be professional and show the clients that there is still some positivity in the world by exuding such positivity and handling the clients delicately. The community has a very differing role and expectation in this program. As a stakeholder they should be more aware of the violence and report it more often so that something can be done about it. Concerning the domestic violence between spouses the community should be more watchful and try to get those in need to help and those who are the perpetrators the attention they need as well. It is also the responsibility of those that are helped to spread the word about being helped in order to reach those who believe they have no way out. The family of the clients help should remain supportive or obtain help or counseling in order to provide such support because the lack of support to an abused family member leaves them vulnerable to returning to the same situations and the PEACE organization does  not want that to occur. It will also be beneficial for young adults and teenagers that come into the program to pass on what they have been taught to their friends and families in efforts to eliminate crime or provide a way for the friends and family to remain law abiding citizens and avoid violence and raise awareness as well. The most important stakeholder is the funding agency. This funding program is called â€Å"Supporting Families† and they seek to raise awareness about domestic violence while promoting better lives to those affected by youth violence and domestic violence by helping them cope with trauma, family members in prison and providing rehabilitation to youth who have been involved with the criminal justice system. This foundation seeks to improve â€Å"skills, confidence and personal support networks to enable them to lead fulfilled and successful lives.† (Appendix A) The role and expectations of the funding agency are to make sure that their objectives are met. If they are not the funding could very well cease and the program will end if further funding is not found. The funding agency can lead evaluations of their own and determine what needs work or a decrease or increase of funding. Keeping to the objectives put forth by the funding agency could increase the reputation of the organization and lead to future funding from other sources as well. Compromising within these roles can be as simple as being lenient with staff that develop emotional attachments to their clients but do not engage with them on an intimate level. The administrator could delegate evaluations and other tasks to other capable staff to free up more time to focus on more important matters. The funding agency could compromise with the organization by not strictly adhering to their objectives. If one objective is not met simply because it is not in the budget it can be looked over in the interest of the other programs working smoothly but with less funding. â€Å"Supporting Families† funding opportunity seeks to improve lives and the community’s lives as a whole. The expectations of their evaluations are to have documentation on all clients who are helped and feedback once they are done with the program to see how well the  program assisted them. This is to measure the success or failings of the programs intentions. The organization will also need documentation on changes, drawbacks and new information that could help the program succeed and create better areas of care to provide the clients with even more options to assist them make a positive change. Stakeholders have a great amount of influence in any human service organization and it is vital that their expectations be drawn out, developed and used to integrate differing principle so that the program can work to the best of the stakeholders abilities.

Hawthorne Essays -- essays research papers

Nathaniel Hawthorne is considered to be one of the most substantial writers of his time. His most famous novel, The Scarlet Letter truly originated Hawthorn’s version of romantic writing. It was this novel that also originated Hawthorne’s fame. Most of his works deal with or have some relation to Puritan times. The reason for the familiarity in his works is due to the fact that it seems to be influenced by his own Puritan ancestry. It was not until late in Hawthorne’s life that he received recognition. To do this Hawthorne had to change his name and found his own stlye of writing that pertained to his life experiances. His romantic style might have been too modern for the times, but eventually he was understood.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Hawthorne was known for his ability to create such a compelling story in just a few pages. Within these few pages, flows an elaborate and complex story. These stories flow so steadily and with such complexity that Hawthorne seems to create his own romantic style. He does this by incooperateing many different situations that keep the reader intuned to the story.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  In many of his short stories there seems to be a character that is infatuated with a person or an object. The reason for Hawthorne creating stories like this could stem from his own experience with infactuation. Hawthorne was a very lonley person. He lived by himself for a long time until he married later in life. In t...

Creative writing – The assassin

Alison Cazer was looking out of the window thinking about the day ahead. Alison was a fashion designer and had her own business in London. She heard a noise and turned round to see her friend Lucy waiting in her office. Alison was so excited to see her; she wanted to tell her about all the brilliant things that had been planned for her today. She told Lucy about the good news; the meeting with Jacques Lording – the owner of Elicit a local rival company. ‘ I can't believe he rang me and asked to know more information about my products – I'm astounded. I mean why would he want to know more about my products, maybe he is thinking to merge with me. That would be brilliant because then together we would be bigger than Chars and hopefully that would put them out of business. Alison was going to meet Jacques in a large Victorian house in a little village called Axton. It was a little different than she expected but he said it was because he wanted a low-key meeting with no press watching their backs. Phil Cichloid was the assassin. He was a butler at the nearby Victorian house though this was just a cover up and had been given a contract by the director of a Chars. The plan was to kill Alison so then there will be no rival company for Chars to compete with because Alison put all the money in to the business, therefore Chars would make much more money. The director of Chars had been given a tip off about the merger and had to take action, the only way to do this was to kill Alison. It was the assassin's first killing but he still remained calm and very professional. The assassin was told to target Alison because she owned a rival business and was also thought of as rich and selfish by lots of jealous people as well as the director of chars. The assassin knew the time and location of when he was going to strike as he was told by the director who knew everything. The director was definitely right in one sense – yes she was rich, but not at all selfish. In fact she was totally opposite. She was a caring, bubbly, and down to earth girl. The house at which Alison was going to meet the manager was quite posh. Though from the outside it looked very dull and isolated this was on purpose, it is so nobody even thought the meeting would take place in a scruffy house therefore no press would be there. The bricks were grey and the windows black with dust. It was raining outside; the ivy on the wall made anyone who came near the house feel trapped and lonely but inside it was totally opposite. It was bright and warm. There was a barn besides the house. The debris of brick from the barn made the field besides the house look like a graveyard. The assassin was lying low behind the house on a hill, known to the locals as death hill because it was so steep you could hardly walk up it and anybody who got to the top would be almost dead. The assassin knew she would be surrounded by bodyguards, which is why he got so high up on the top of death hill. He also knew the boss of elicit would arrive soon after Alison so he had to be quick. Nobody could see the assassin but he could see his target perfectly well. He got into his position on the top of the hill he heard a car behind him. His rifle was a 1987pg with a range of 100m plenty far enough to reach Alison. He lifted his rifle in wait of the car coming up the drive, with excitement rushing around his body; he was disappointed when the car carried on straight down the lane. The assassin again heard a car this time he new it was Alison he could tell, you could see the 2 rings on her left hand reflecting the light and also the car had another 2 people in, he could only guess these were the bodyguards. He got his rifle ready and was now ready to strike. Alison turned up the drive and started driving up the long, winding, dislodged driveway. She heard a scrape; she got out of the car and saw a massive scratch on the back of her Lotus Elise. She was thinking about turning around- how could the boss of elicit see her car in such a state the only thing that changed her mind was the thought of been late for the boss, that was the last thing she wanted to do so she decided to carry on down the lane. The assassin at this stage was very calm, as though he was doing this as an honour. He was getting a bit frustrated, as this job was taking longer than expected and wanted to get onto his next job. He could see Alison coming now and got into his final position. She thought she had come to the wrong place, she had expected something more like Buckingham Palace, she knew there was something wrong but she carried on down the lane. She was about to turn the car around when her bodyguards saw a light coming from inside the house, somebody must be in she thought and went to investigate with the help of the bodyguards. She got out of the car and was just about to knock on the door when she remembered something; she had forgot to lock the door. ‘How stupid of me she thought, why didn't I lock it in the first place'. Alison locked the car door and looked around astounded at the dullness of the house and its surroundings – did the boss really want to meet her here? It started raining heavy so she put her hood up, this blocked her view of what was going on around her. Her bodyguards noticed something in the bush to the side of her and left her on her own while they went to investigate. She was just about to knock on the door. Before she could hear it she had already felt it, right through her stomach. She tried to scream but no sound would come out of her mouth. She tried to get her mobile but she couldn't move. She felt helpless and knew secretly that her world was coming to an end. The bodyguards rushed to her but knew there was nothing they could do, one went to get help and the other was trying to comfort her. There was no signal on her mobile phone and they couldn't get in the house. She grabbed her stomach in hope that in some miracle way it may stop the bleeding and she may have a chance to survive even though she knew she had no chance. Her trousers were wet with blood; she didn't dare look down frightened at what she may see. She was finding it hard to breath now, she tried to look around to see who had done this terrible thing to her but she couldn't see more than a metre. She dropped to the ground, the bodyguard tried to help her but there was nothing he could do, the pain was unbearable now; she knew she had to fight the pain or lose everything she had, her wonderful family and friends. She again tried to move but the pain was holding her back like some sort of barrier. She started to feel dizzy, she took one last look at her hand and fell to the ground with the rain pouring on her and blood slowly surrounding her body as the bodyguard went in search of the person who had done this. The assassin smirked, he moved quickly packing his things together as fast as he could. He ran to the car making sure he destroyed every bit of evidence he had made. He was unruffled, calm, cold and motionless. His car was on the other side of the hill so nobody noticed he was there, he made sure that he had got everything and set off down the drive. He took one last look behind him to check that Alison was dead and that his job had been done properly and made his way to his next job leaving Alison to die in her own pool of blood.

Bag of Bones CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

At first the door wouldn't open. The knob turned under my hand so I knew it wasn't locked, but the rain seemed to have swelled the wood . . . or had something been shoved up against it? I drew back, crouched a little, and hit the door with my shoulder. This time there was some slight give. It was her. Sara. Standing on the other side of the door and trying to hold it shut against me. How could she do that? How, in God's name? She was a fucking ghost! I thought of the BAMM CONSTRUCTION pickup . . . and as if thought were conjuration I could almost see it out there at the end of Lane Forty-two, parked by the highway. The old ladies' sedan was behind it, and three or four other cars were now behind them. All of them with their windshield wipers flopping back and forth, their headlights cutting feeble cones through the downpour. They were lined up on the shoulder like cars at a yard sale. There was no yard sale here, only the old-timers sitting silently in their cars. Old-timers who were in the zone just like I was. Old-timers sending in the vibe. She was drawing on them. Stealing from them. She'd done the same with Devore and me too, of course. Many of the manifestations I'd experienced since coming back had likely been created from my own psychic energy. It was amusing when you thought of it. Or maybe ‘terrifying' was the word I was actually looking for. ‘Jo, help me,' I said in the pouring rain. Lightning flashed, turning the torrents a bright brief silver. ‘If you ever loved me, help me now.' I drew back and hit the door again. This time there was no resistance at all and I went hurtling in, catching my shin on the jamb and falling to my knees. I held onto the lantern, though. There was a moment of silence. In it I felt forces and presences gathering themselves. In that moment nothing seemed to move, although behind me, in the woods Jo had loved to ramble with me or without me the rain continued to fall and the wind continued to howl, a merciless gardener pruning its way through the trees that were dead and almost dead, doing the work of ten gentler years in one turbulent hour. Then the door slammed shut and it began. I saw everything in the glow of the flashlight, which I had turned on without even realizing it, but at first I didn't know exactly what I was seeing, other than the destruction by poltergeist of my wife's beloved crafts and treasures. The framed afghan square tore itself off the wall and flew from one side of the studio to the other, the black oak frame breaking apart. The heads popped off the dolls poking out of the baby collages like champagne corks at a party. The hanging light-globe shattered, showering me with fragments of glass. A wind began to blow a cold one and was quickly joined and whirled into a cyclone by one which was warmer, almost hot. They rolled past me as if in imitation of the larger storm outside. The Sara Laughs head on the bookcase, the one which appeared to be constructed of toothpicks and lollipop sticks, exploded in a cloud of wood-splinters. The kayak paddle leaning against the wall rose into the air, rowed furiously at nothing, then launched itself at me like a spear. I threw myself flat on the green rag rug to avoid it, and felt bits of broken glass from the shattered light-globe cut into the palm of my hand as I came down. I felt something else, as well a ridge of something beneath the rug. The paddle hit the far wall hard enough to split into two pieces. Now the banjo my wife had never been able to master rose in the air, revolved twice, and played a bright rattle of notes that were out of tune but nonetheless unmistakable wish I was in the land of cotton, old times there are not forgotten. The phrase ended with a vicious BLUNK! that broke all five strings. The banjo whirled itself a third time, its bright steel fittings reflecting fishscale runs of light on the study walls, and then beat itself to death against the floor, the drum shattering and the tuning pegs snapping off like teeth. The sound of moving air began to how do I express this? to focus somehow, until it wasn't the sound of air but the sound of voices panting, unearthly voices full of fury. They would have screamed if they'd had vocal cords to scream with. Dusty air swirled up in the beam of my flashlight, making helix shapes that danced together, then reeled apart again. For just a moment I heard Sara's snarling, smoke-broken voice: ‘Git out, bitch! You git on out! This ain't none of yours ‘ And then a curious insubstantial thud, as if air had collided with air. This was followed by a rushing wind-tunnel shriek that I recognized: I'd heard it in the middle of the night. Jo was screaming. Sara was hurting her, Sara was punishing her for presuming to interfere, and Jo was screaming. ‘No!' I shouted, getting to my feet. ‘Leave her alone! Leave her be!' I advanced into the room, swinging the lantern in front of my face as if I could beat her away with it. Stoppered bottles stormed past me some contained dried flowers, some carefully sectioned mushrooms, some woods-herbs. They shattered against the far wall with a brittle xylophone sound. None of them struck me; it was as if an unseen hand guided them away. Then Jo's rolltop desk rose into the air. It must have weighed at least four hundred pounds with its drawers loaded as they were, but it floated like a feather, nodding first one way and then dipping the other in the opposing currents of air. Jo screamed again, this time in anger rather than pain, and I staggered backward against the closed door with a feeling that I had been scooped hollow. Sara wasn't the only one who could steal the energy of the living, it appeared. White semeny stuff ectoplasm, I guess spilled from the desk's pigeonholes in a dozen little streams, and the desk suddenly launched itself across the room. It flew almost too fast to follow with the eye. Anyone standing in front of it would have been smashed flat There was a head-splitting shriek of protest and agony Sara this time, I knew it was and then the desk struck the wall, breaking through it and letting in the rain and the wind. The rolltop snapped loose of its slot and hung like a jointed tongue. All the drawers shot out. Spools of thread, skeins of yarn, little flora/fauna identification books and woods guides, thimbles, notebooks, knitting needles, dried-up Magic Markers Jo's early remains, Ki might have called them. They flew everywhere l ike bones and bits of hair cruelly scattered from a disinterred coffin. ‘Stop it,' I croaked. ‘Stop it, both of you. That's enough.' But there was no need to tell them. Except for the furious beat of the storm, I was alone in the ruins of my wife's studio. The battle was over. At least for the time being. I knelt and doubled up the green rag rug, carefully folding into it as much of the shattered glass from the light as I could. Beneath it was a trapdoor giving on a triangular storage area created by the slope of the land as it dropped toward the lake. The ridge I'd felt was one of the trap's hinges. I had known about this area and had meant to check it for the owls. Then things began to happen and I'd forgotten. There was a recessed ring in the trapdoor. I grabbed it, ready for more resistance, but it swung up easily. The smell that wafted up froze me in my tracks. Not damp decay, at least not at first, but Red Jo's favorite perfume. It hung around me for a moment and then it was gone. What replaced it was the smell of rain, roots, and wet earth. Not pleasant, but I had smelled far worse down by the lake near that damned birch tree. I shone my light down three steep steps. I could see a squat shape that turned out to be an old toilet I could vaguely remember Bill and Kenny Auster putting it under here back in 1990 or '91. There were steel boxes filing cabinet drawers, actually wrapped in plastic and stacked up on pallets. Old records and papers. An eight-track tape player wrapped in a plastic bag. An old VCR next to it, in another one. And over in the corner I sat down, hung my legs over, and felt something touch the ankle I had turned in the lake. I shone my light between my knees and for one moment saw a young black kid. Not the one drowned in the lake, though this one was older and quite a lot bigger. Twelve, maybe fourteen. The drowned boy had been no more than eight. This one bared his teeth at me and hissed like a cat. There were no pupils in his eyes; like those of the boy in the lake, his eyes were entirely white, like the eyes of a statue. And he was shaking his head. Don't come down here, white man. Let the dead rest in peace. ‘But you're not at peace,' I said, and shone the light full on him. I had a momentary glimpse of a truly hideous thing. I could see through him, but I could also see into him: the rotting remains of his tongue in his mouth, his eyes in their sockets, his brain simmering like a spoiled egg in its case of skull. Then he was gone, and there was nothing but one of those swirling dust-helixes. I went down, holding the lantern raised. Below it, nests of shadows rocked and seemed to reach upward. The storage area (it was really no more than a glorified crawlspace) had been floored with wooden pallets, just to keep stuff off the ground. Now water ran beneath these in a steady river, and enough of the earth had eroded to make even crawling unsteady work. The smell of perfume was entirely gone. What had replaced it was a nasty riverbottom smell and unlikely given the conditions, I know, but it was there the faint, sullen smell of ash and fire. I saw what I'd come for almost at once. Jo's mail-order owls, the ones she had taken delivery of herself in November of 1993, were in the northeast corner, where there were only about two feet between the sloped pallet flooring and the underside of the studio. Gorry, but they looked real, Bill had said, and Gorry if he wasn't right: in the bright glow of the lantern they looked like birds first swaddled, then suffocated in clear plastic. Their eyes were bright wedding rings circling wide black pupils. Their plastic feathers were painted the dark green of pine nee-dies, their bellies a shade of dirty orange-white. I crawled toward them over the squelching, shifting pallets, the glow of the lantern bobbing back and forth between them, trying not to wonder if that boy was behind me, creeping in pursuit. When I got to the owls, I raised my head without thinking and thudded it against the insulation which ran beneath the studio floor. Thump once for yes, twice for no, asshole, I thought. I hooked my fingers into the plastic which wrapped the owls and pulled them toward me. I wanted to be out of here. The sensation of water running just beneath me was strange and unpleasant. So was the smell of fire, which seemed stronger now in spite of the damp. Suppose the studio was burning? Suppose Sara had somehow set it alight? I'd roast down here even while the storm's muddy runoff was soaking my legs and belly. One of the owls stood on a plastic base, I saw the better to set him on your deck or stoop to scare the crows, my dear but the base the other should have been attached to was missing. I backed toward the trapdoor, holding the lantern in one hand and dragging the plastic sack of owls in the other, wincing each time thunder cannonaded over my head. I'd only gotten a little way when the damp tape holding the plastic gave way. The owl missing its base tilted slowly toward me, its black-gold eyes staring raptly into my own. A swirl of air. A faint, comforting whiff of Red perfume. I pulled the owl out by the hornlike tufts growing from its forehead and turned it upside down. Where it had once been attached to its plastic base there were now only two pegs with a hollow space between them. Inside the hole was a small tin box that I recognized even before I reached into the owl's belly and chivvied it out. I shone the lantern on its front, knowing what I'd see: JO'S NOTIONS, written in old-fashioned gilt script. She had found the box in an antiques barn somewhere. I looked at it, my heart beating hard. Thunder boomed overhead. The trapdoor stood open, but I had forgotten about going up. I had forgotten about everything but the tin box I held in my hand, a box roughly the size of a cigar box but not quite as deep. I spread my hand over the cover and pulled it off. There was a strew of folded papers lying on top of a pair of steno books, the wirebound ones I keep around for notes and character lists. These had been rubber-banded together. On top of everything else was a shiny black square. Until I picked it up and held it close to the side of the lantern, I didn't realize it was a photo negative. Ghostly, reversed and faintly orange, I saw Jo in her gray two-piece bathing suit. She was standing on the swimming float with her hands behind her head. ‘Jo,' I said, and then couldn't say anything else. My throat had closed up with tears. I held the negative for a moment, not wanting to lose contact with it, then put it back in the box with the papers and steno books. This stuff was why she had come to Sara in July of 1994; to gather it up and hide it as well as she could. She had taken the owls off the deck (Frank had heard the door out there bang) and had carried them out here. I could almost see her prying the base off one owl and stuffing the tin box up its plastic wazoo, wrapping both of them in plastic, then dragging them down here, all while her brother sat smoking Marlboros and feeling the vibrations. The bad vibrations. I doubted if I would ever know all the reasons why she'd done it, or what her frame of mind had been . . . but she had almost certainly believed I'd find my own way down here eventually. Why else had she left the negative? The loose papers were mostly photocopied press clippings from the Castle Rock Call and from the Weekly News, the paper which had apparently preceded the Call. The dates were marked on each in my wife's neat, firm hand. The oldest clipping was from 1865, and was headed ANOTHER HOME SAFE. The returnee was one Jared Devore, age thirty-two. Suddenly I understood one of the things that had puzzled me: the generations which didn't seem to match up. A Sara Tidwell song came to mind as I crouched there on the pallets with my lantern shining down on that old-timey type. It was the ditty that went The old folks do it and the young folks, too / And the old folks show the young folks just what to do . . . By the time Sara and the Red-Tops showed up in Castle County and settled on what became known as Tidwell's Meadow, Jared Devore would have been sixty-seven or -eight. Old but still hale. A veteran of the Civil War. The sort of older man younger men might look up to. And Sara's song was right the old folks show the young folks just what to do. What exactly had they done? The clippings about Sara and the Red-Tops didn't tell. I only skimmed them, anyway, but the overall tone shook me, just the same. I'd describe it as unfailing genial contempt. The Red-Tops were ‘our Southern blackbirds' and ‘our rhythmic darkies.' They were ‘full of dusky good-nature.' Sara herself was ‘a marvelous figure of a Negro woman with broad nose, full lips, and noble brow' who ‘fascinated men-folk and women-folk alike with her animal high spirits, flashing smile, and raucous laugh.' They were, God keep us and save us, reviews. Good ones, if you didn't mind being called full of dusky good-nature. I shuffled through them quickly, looking for anything about the circumstances under which ‘our Southern blackbirds' had left. I found nothing. What I found instead was a clipping from the Call marked July 19th (go down nineteen, I thought), 1933. The headline read VETERAN GUIDE, CARETAKER, CANNOT SAVE DAUGHTER. According to the story, Fred Dean had been fighting the wildfires in the eastern part of the TR with two hundred other men when the wind had suddenly changed, menacing the north end of the lake, which had previously been considered safe. At that time a great many local people had kept fishing and hunting camps up there (this much I knew myself). The community had had a general store and an actual name, Halo Bay. Fred's wife, Hilda, was there with the Dean twins, William and Carla, age three, while her husband was off eating smoke. A good many other wives and kids were in Halo Bay, as well. The fires had come fast when the wind changed, the paper said ‘like marching explosions.' They jumped the only firebreak the men had left in that direction and headed for the far end of the lake. At Halo Bay there were no men to take charge, and apparently no women able or willing to do so. They panicked instead, racing to load their cars with children and camp possessions, clogging the one road out with their vehicles. Eventually one of the old cars or trucks broke down and as the fires roared closer, running through woods that hadn't seen rain since late April, the women who'd waited found their way out blocked. The volunteer firefighters came to the rescue in time, but when Fred Dean got to his wife, one of a party of women trying to push a balky stalled Ford coupe out of the road, he made a terrible discovery. Billy lay on the floor in the back of the car, fast asleep, but Carla was missing. Hilda had gotten them both in, all right they had been on the back seat, holding hands just as they always did. But at some point, after her brother had crawled onto the floor and dozed off and while Hilda was stuffing a few last items into the trunk, Carla must have remembered a toy or a doll and returned to the cottage to get it. While she was doing that, her mother had gotten into their old Desoto and driven away without rechecking the babies. Carla Dean was either still in the cottage at Halo Bay or making her way up the road on foot. Either way the fires would run her down. The road was too narrow to get a vehicle turned around and too blocked to get one of those pointed in the right direction through the crush. So Fred Dean, hero that he was, set off on the run toward the smoke-blackened horizon, where bright ribbons of orange had already begun to shine through. The wind-driven fire had crowned and raced to meet him like a lover. I knelt on the pallets, reading this by the glow of my lantern, and all at once the smell of fire and burning intensified. I coughed . . . and then the cough was choked off by the iron taste of water in my mouth and throat. Once again, this time kneeling in the storage area beneath my wife's studio, I felt as if I were drowning. Once again I leaned forward and retched up nothing but a little spit. I turned and saw the lake. The loons were screaming on its hazy surface, making their way toward me in a line, beating their wings against the water as they came. The blue of the sky had been blotted out. The air smelled of charcoal and gunpowder. Ash had begun to sift down from the sky. The eastern verge of Dark Score was in flames, and I could hear occasional muffled reports as hollow trees exploded. They sounded like depth charges. I looked down, wanting to break free of this vision, knowing that in another moment or two it wouldn't be anything so distant as a vision but as real as the trip Kyra and I had made to the Fryeburg Fair. Instead of a plastic owl with gold-ringed eyes, I was looking at a child with bright blue ones. She was sitting on a picnic table, holding out her chubby arms and crying. I saw her as clearly as I saw my own face in the mirror each morning when I shaved. I saw she was about Kyra's age but much plumper, and her hair is black instead of blonde. Her hair is the shade her brother's will remain until it finally begins to go gray in the impossibly distant summer of 1998, a year she will never see unless someone gets her out of this hell. She wears a white dress and red knee-stockings and she holds her arms out to me, calling Daddy, Daddy. I start toward her and then there is a blast of organized heat that tears me apart for a moment I am the ghost here, I realize, and Fred Dean has just run right through me. Daddy, she cries, but to him, not me. Daddy! and she hugs him, unmindful of the soot smearing her white silk dress and her chubby face as he kisses her and more soot begins to fall and the loons beat their way in toward shore, seeming to weep in shrill lamentation. Daddy the fire is coming! she cries as he scoops her into his arms. I know, be brave, he says. We're gonna be all right, sugarplum, but you have to be brave. The fire isn't just coming,' it has come. The entire east end of Halo Bay is inflames and now they're moving this way, eating one by one the little cabins where the men like to lay up drunk in hunting season and ice-fishing season. Behind Al LeRoux's, the washing Marguerite hung out that morning is in flames, pants and dresses and underwear burning on lines which are themselves strings of fire. Leaves and bark shower down,' a burning ember touches Carla's neck and she shrieks with pain. Fred slaps it away as he carries her down the slope of land to the water. Don't do it! I scream. I know all this is beyond my power to change, but I scream at him anyway, try to change it anyway. Fight it! For Christ's sake, fight it! Daddy, who is that man? Carla asks, and points at me as the green-shingled roof of the Dean place catches fire. Fred glances toward where she is pointing, and in his face I see a spasm of guilt. He knows what he's doing, that's the terrible thing way down deep he knows exactly what he is doing here at Halo Bay where The Street ends. He knows and he's afraid that someone will witness his work. But he sees nothing. Or does he? There is a momentary doubtful widening of the eyes as if he does spy something a dancing helix of air, perhaps. Or does feel me? Is that it? Does he feel a momentary cold draft in all this heat? One that feels like protesting hands, hands that would restrain if they only had substance? Then he looks away,' then he is wading into the water beside the Deans' stub of a dock. Fred! I scream. For God's sake, man, look at her! Do you think your wife put her in a white silk dress by accident? Is that anyone's idea of a play-dress? Daddy, why are we going in the water? she asks. To get away from the fire, sugarplum. Daddy, I can't swim! You won't have to, he replies, and what a chill I feel at that! Because it's no lie she won't have to swim, not now, not ever. And at least Fred's way will be more merciful than Normal Auster's when Normal's turn comes more merciful than the squalling handpump, the gallons of freezing water. Her white dress floats around her like a lily. Her red stockings shimmer in the water. She hugs his neck tightly and now they are among the fleeing loons,' the loons spank the water with their powerful wings, churning up curds of jam and staring at the man and the girl with their distraught red eyes. The air is heavy with smoke and the sky is gone. I stagger after them, wading I can feel the cold of the water, although I don't splash and leave no wake. The eastern and northern edges of the lake are both on fire now there is a burning crescent around us as Fred Dean wades deeper with his daughter, carrying her as if to some baptismal rite. And still he tells himself he is trying to save her, only to save her, just as all her life Hilda will tell herself that the child just wandered back to the cottage to look for a toy, that she was not left behind on purpose, left in her white dress and red stockings to be found by her father, who once did something unspeakable. This is the past, th is is the Land of Ago, and here the sins of the fathers are visited on the children, even unto the seventh generation, which is not yet. He takes her deeper and she begins to scream. Her screams mingle with the screams of the loons until he stops the sound with a kiss upon her terrified mouth. ‘Love you, Daddy loves his sugarplum,' he says, and then lowers her. It is to be a full-immersion baptism, then, except there is no shorebank choir singing ‘Shall We Gather at the River' and no one shouting Hallelujah! and he is not letting her come back up. She struggles furiously in the white bloom of her sacrificial dress, and after a moment he cannot bear to watch her,' he looks across the lake instead, to the west where the fire hasn't yet touched (and never will), to the west where skies are still blue. Ash sifts around him like black rain and the tears pour out of his eyes and as she struggles furiously beneath his hands, trying to free herself from his drowning grip, he tells himself It was an accident, just a terrible accident, I took her out in the lake because it was the only place I could take her, the on ly place left, and she panicked, she started to struggle, she was all wet and all slippery and I lost my good hold on her and then I lost any hold on her and then I forget I'm a ghost. I scream ‘Kia! Hold on, Ki!' and dive. I reach her, I see her terrified face, her bulging blue eyes, her rosebud of a mouth which is trailing a silver line of bubbles toward the surface where Fred stands in water up to his neck, holding her down while he tells himself over and over that he was trying to save her, it was the only way, he was trying to save her, it was the only way. I reach for her, again and again I reach for her, my child, my daughter, my Kia (they are all Kia, the boys as well as the girls, all my daughter), and each time my arms go through her. Worse oh, far worse is that now she is reaching for ‘me', her dappled arms floating out, begging for rescue. Her groping hands melt through mine. I cannot touch, because now I am the ghost. I am the ghost and as her struggles weaken I realize that I can't I can't oh I couldn't breathe I was drowning. I doubled over, opened my mouth, and this time a great spew of lake-water came out, soaking the plastic owl which lay on the pallet by my knees. I hugged the JO'S NOTIONS box to my chest, not wanting the contents to get wet, and the movement triggered another retch. This time cold water poured from my nose as well as my mouth. I dragged in a deep breath, then coughed it out. ‘This has got to end,' I said, but of course this was the end, one way or the other. Because Kyra was last. I climbed up the steps to the studio and sat on the littered floor to get my breath. Outside, the thunder boomed and the rain fell, but I thought the storm had passed its peak of fury. Or maybe I only hoped. I rested with my legs hanging down through the trap there were no more ghosts here to touch my ankles, I don't know how I knew that but I did and stripped off the rubber bands holding the steno notebooks together. I opened the first one, paged through it, and saw it was almost filled with Jo's handwriting and a number of folded typed sheets (Courier type, of course), single-spaced: the fruit of all those clandestine trips down to the TR during 1993 and 1994. Fragmentary notes, for the most part, and transcriptions of tapes which might still be down below me in the storage space somewhere. Tucked away with the VCR or the eight-track player, perhaps. But I didn't need them. When the time came if the time came I was sure I'd find most of the story here. What had happened, who had done it, how it was covered up. Right now I didn't care. Right now I only wanted to make sure that Kyra was safe and stayed safe. There was only one way to do that. Lye stille. I attempted to slip the rubber bands around the steno books again, and the one I hadn't looked at slipped out of my wet hand and fell to the floor. A torn slip of green paper fell out. I picked it up and saw this: For a moment I came out of that strange and heightened awareness I'd been living in; the world fell back into its accustomed dimensions. But the colors were all too strong, somehow, objects too emphatically present. I felt like a battlefield soldier suddenly illuminated by a ghastly white flare, one that shows everything. My father's people had come from The Neck, I had been right about that much; my great-grandfather according to this was James Noonan, and he had never shit in the same pit as Jared Devore. Max Devore had either been lying when he said that to Mattie . . . or misinformed . . . or simply confused, the way folks often get confused when they reach their eighties. Even a fellow like Devore, who had stayed mostly sharp, wouldn't have been exempt from the occasional nick in his edge. And he hadn't been that far off at that. Because, according to this little scratch of a chart, my great-grandfather had had an older sister, Bridget. And Bridget had married Benton Auster. My finger dropped down a line, to Harry Auster. Born of Benton and Bridget Noonan Auster in the year 1885. ‘Christ Jesus,' I whispered. ‘Kenny Auster's grandfather was my granduncle. And he was one of them. Whatever they did, Harry Auster was one of them. That's the connection.' I thought of Kyra with sudden sharp terror. She had been up at the house by herself for nearly an hour. How could I have been so stupid? Anyone could have come in while I was under the studio. Sara could have used anyone to I realized that wasn't true. The murderers and the child victims had all been linked by blood, and now that blood had thinned, that river had almost reached the sea. There was Bill Dean, but he was staying well away from Sara Laughs. There was Kenny Auster, but Kenny had taken himself and his family off to Taxachusetts. And Ki's closest blood relations mother, father, grandfather were all dead. Only I was left. Only I was blood. Only I could do it. Unless I bolted back up to the house as fast as I could, slipping and sliding my way along the soaked path, desperate to make sure she was all right. I didn't think Sara could hurt Kyra herself, no matter how much of that old-timer vibe she had to draw on . . . but what if I was wrong? What if I was wrong?

Southwest Airlines

Southwest Airlines Introduction Southwest Airline, since time in memorial, has been one of the outstanding competitors in the Airline industry. Its low fares have propelled it to glory among the commuters of United States; these fares are said to be 30% lower than its fieriest rivals in the airline industry in the US.Advertising We will write a custom essay sample on Southwest Airlines specifically for you for only $16.05 $11/page Learn More In addition to this, the company possesses a structure that is low in terms of cost, which has enabled it to record high margins of profits in spite of the financial year being bad. A good example of a bad financial year was in 2002, when the airline industry faced decrease in demand due to the September 11 terror attack. It has been identified that 2001 to 2005 were the worst years of the airline industry in its history. However while the other airlines were losing money the Southwest airline was reportedly earning money. The operations o f Southwest airlines are unique from other airline thus making it distinctive. While other airlines like the United Airlines and American Airlines deal with routing passengers through hubs, the Southwest deals with routing the passengers from point to point. This enables the airline to acquire more and more passengers to obtain the required demand. Delays are hence reduced tremendously due to the avoidance of hubs. Another factor that ensures a success story of the airline is cutting of training cost, inventory costs, and maintenance costs. This is ensured by using of one kind of aeroplane called the Boeing 737. The employee to passenger ratio is the best in the airline industry (Hill and Jones, 2009, p. 105). Factors of success Integration One of the key factors that have enhanced the success of the Southwest Airline is the way the airline integrates its activities. The airline has successfully integrated its activities in a manner that has made it a headache for its competitors to try to emulate them. The strategy used by the Southwest Airline in integrating its activities is one of its pillars to successful undertaking of differentiation strategy or integrated cost leadership. This hence enables the firm to operate profitably as compared to its competitors. The sixty-fourth consecutive profits announced by the firm only confirm the success story of the firm (Hitt, Ireland and Hoskisson, 2009, p. 104). Unique culture and customer service The firm’s culture is suggested to be its key in influencing its integration and a major contributor to the existing identification of the firm’s unique service to its clients. Apart from lowering of the cost, the uniqueness of its service separates the firm from its competitors. The customer service and the unique culture of the firm are some of the success factors that have become impossible for other competitors in the industry to emulate.Advertising Looking for essay on business economics? Let's se e if we can help you! Get your first paper with 15% OFF Learn More Competitors like Continental Airlines, US Airways, and United Airlines had attempted to emulate the Southwest Airlines by lowering their prices but were unable to offer any unique distinction to customers especially while in air. In addition to this, these competitors were unable to operate at the same range of cost as the Southwest Airlines (Hitt, Ireland and Hoskisson, 2009, p. 104). Indomitable will to succeed The Southwest Airlines has been founded on an independent spirit since early days of its incorporation. In 1994, various major airlines conspired against the Southwest Airline thereby barring it from Travel Reservation Network. In a twist of events, the airline did not involve itself in endless and costly court battle but rather it launched the Ticketless Travel a service that has since become a standard mark of the industry. In addition to this Southwest Airline has been awarded numerously f or its indomitable spirit to succeed. In 1996, the airline was awarded for its high rated performance in terms of performance, baggage handling and less customer complaints (Yerkes, 2007, p. 48). Compensation The compensation rate of the Southwest Airline is higher as compared to its competitors. At a time, these compensation rates are said to be the highest in the airline industry. In addition to this, the airline offers the company offers a benefit package that is relative good as compared to other airlines. Profit sharing plan is an operation that was started in 1973 in the Southwest Airline (Thompson and Gamble, 2008, 518). The compensation procedure undertaken in Southwest Airline emphasizes on productivity, flexibility, and creativity. The pilots are paid according to the trips undertaken and not as per hour. This hence helps in creating the attitude within pilots of minimizing the time of the aircrafts at the airport. Evaluation of Southwest Airlines A lot has been said about Southwest Airline but the fact remains more is still to be written. This airline has passed the test of time through the drummer it has faced throughout its history. Its success story has earned it attention and admiration from its competitors in the airline industry. Customer service is regarded as the top priority of the Southwest Airlines. If fact the airline often refers to it as â€Å"Positive Outrageous Service† which is elaborated to mean that in spite of your rank in the in the airline your required to take all the required steps to ensure customer satisfaction (Bacon and Pugh, 2003, p. 266).Advertising We will write a custom essay sample on Southwest Airlines specifically for you for only $16.05 $11/page Learn More In terms of cost the Southwest airlines ensured that, the productivity of the people and the plane were at their maximum. In order to succeed in this the employees had be ready to work harder. A culture of tight-knit family evolv ed which included listening to other people’s ideas. In other words, it has been expressed that the spirit of the Southwest Airlines is what keeps them intangible (Bacon and Pugh, 2003, p. 268). Unless one learns of what Southwest Airline is made of, its success cannot be understood. By out classing its opponents the Southwest Airline cannot be ignored and is a name to reckon with. In the wake of the terrorist attacks that occurred on September 11, 2001, the Southwest Airline increased its presence by solidifying its position in the market in terms of expansion. This goes further to indicate how this airline is opportunistic even worse situations (Gittell, 2003, p. 5). The airline prefers a model that enhances quality and effectiveness in operations to an extent that it forms a significant part of the firm’s business strategy. The Southwest Airline has been termed as the best profitable company in the US. Its capitalization is higher than a combination of several US ai rlines. This is contrary to the first year of its incorporation where it faced financial difficulties as the airline was in a survival mode. In short, the culture of Southwest Airline has transformed over time from a culture that was limited to southwestern area of USA to a culture that embraced knowledge, mutual respect, and common goals. Conclusion The business model used by the Southwest Airliner conclusively define why the airline is has successfully established itself in the airline industry. The identification of the customers to be served and ensuring the airline is the lowest cost provider are the main pillars to its ever-growing profits. The business strategy used by the Southwest Airlines is that of low cost provision and is accompanied with the use of regular services. Significant amount of monies are used by the Southwest Airlines to train their employees and develop their daily operations. Each and every work that is undertaken by the Southwest Airlines has it s own mec hanical and training department. Despite having a unionized airline, the Southwest Airline does not have rigid rules in its work environment. The corporation of people has also enhanced the making of Southwest Airlines a low cost carrier.Advertising Looking for essay on business economics? Let's see if we can help you! Get your first paper with 15% OFF Learn More All in all the Southwest Airlines has a culture that allows its clients to have an economical travel with enough freedom to enjoy. In addition to this, the culture set by the Southwest Airlines is that which incorporates making of a positive difference in the firm, acquiring of shared knowledge and obtaining of mutual respect. These initiatives introduced in this airline have enabled company management to be efficient and not only that the managers in this airline rely on them in their daily activities. In competitive cost advantage, the Southwest Airlines are based on work done by people in terms of their compensation, cost of meals, corporate culture, and reservation system. References Bacon, T. R. and Pugh, D. G. (2003). Winning behavior: what the smartest, most successful companies do differently. NY: AMACOM. Retrieved from https://books.google.com/books?id=zDgC8yc9lhUCpg=PA266dq=southwest+airlineshl=enei=Uz81TdOdL4m54Aav67i2Cgsa=Xoi=book_resultct=resultresnum=4ved=0CD0Q6AEwAzgK #v=onepageq=southwest%20airlinesf=false Gittell, J. H. (2003). The Southwest Airlines way: using the power of relationships to achieve high Performance. NY: The McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc. Retrieved from https://books.google.com/books?id=BapojOGVz5cCprintsec=frontcoverdq=southwest+airlineshl=enei=FT81TciWNJH14QbOkKm-Cgsa=Xoi=book_resultct=resultresnum=1ved=0CCkQ6AEwAA#v=onepageqf=false. Hill, C. and Jones, G. (2010). Strategic Management Theory: An Integrated Approach. OH: South-western Cengage. Retrieved from https://books.google.com/books?id=CzIK9ELsyYwCpg=PA105dq=southwest+airlineshl=enei=Uz81TdOdL4m54Aav67i2Cgsa=Xoi=book_resultct=resultresnum=1ved=0CCsQ6AEwADgK#v=onepageq=southwest%20airlinesf=false. Hitt, M. A., Ireland, R. D. and Hoskisson, R. E. (2009). Strategic management: competitiveness and globalization: concepts cases. OH: South-western Cengage. Retrieved from https://books.google.com/books?id=ul5FsIlWa3ECpg=PA104dq=southwest+airlineshl=enei=Uz81TdOdL4m54Aav67i2Cgsa=Xo i=book_resultct=resultresnum=2ved=0CDEQ6AEwATgK#v=onepageq=southwest%20airlinesf=false. Thompson, A. A. and Gamble, J. E. (2008). The Southwest Airlines in 2008: Culture Values, and Operating Practices. AB. Retrieved from Attachments. Yerkes, L., (2007). Fun works: creating places where people love to work. CA: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, Inc. Retrieved from https://books.google.com/books?id=lK86xiz-xgUCpg=PA47dq=southwest+airlineshl=enei=Uz81TdOdL4m54Aav67i2Cgsa=Xoi=book_resultct=resultresnum=3ved=0CDgQ6AEwAjgK#v=onepageq=southwest%20airlinesf=false.

Napoleon and the Siege of Toulon 1793

Napoleon and the Siege of Toulon 1793 The siege of Toulon in 1793 might have blended into the many other actions of the French Revolutionary War were it not for the later career of one man, as the siege marked the first notable military action of Napoleon Bonaparte, later French Emperor and one of the greatest generals in history. France in Rebellion The French Revolution transformed almost every aspect of French public life and grew more radical as the years passed (turning into terror). However, these changes were far from universally popular, and as many French citizens fled revolutionary areas, others decided to rebel against a revolution they saw as increasingly Parisian and extreme. By 1793 these rebellions had turned into widespread, open and violent revolt, with a revolutionary army/militia sent out to crush these enemies within. France was, in effect, engaging in a civil war at the same time as countries surrounding France looked to intervene and force a counter-revolution. The situation was, at times, desperate. Toulon The site of one such rebellion was Toulon, a port on the south coast of France. Here the situation was critical to the revolutionary government, as not only was Toulon an important naval base – France was engaged in wars against many of the monarchist states of Europe – but the rebels had invited in British ships and handed over control to their commanders. Toulon had some of the thickest and most advanced defenses, not just in France, but in Europe, and would have to be retaken by the revolutionary forces to help secure the nation. It was no easy task but had to be done quickly. The Siege and the Rise of Napoleon Command of the revolutionary army assigned to Toulon was given to General Carteaux, and he was accompanied by a ‘representative on mission’, basically a political officer designed to make sure he was being sufficiently ‘patriotic’. Carteaux began a siege of the port in 1793. The effects of the revolution on the army had been severe, as many of the officers had been nobility and as they were persecuted they fled the country. Consequently, there were many open spaces and plenty of promotion from lower ranks based on ability rather than birth rank. Even so, when the commander of Carteaux’s artillery was wounded and had to leave in September, it wasn’t purely skill that got a young officer called Napoleon Bonaparte appointed as his replacement, as both he and the representative on a mission who promoted him – Saliceti – were from Corsica. Carteaux had no say in the matter. Major Bonaparte now showed great skill in increasing and deploying his resources, using a keen understanding of terrain to slowly take key areas and undermine the British hold on Toulon. While who played the key role in the final act is debated, but Napoleon definitely played a vital role, and he was able to take full credit when the port fell on December 19th, 1793. His name was now known by key figures in the revolutionary government, and he was both promoted to Brigadier General and given command of the artillery in the Army of Italy. He would soon leverage this early fame into greater command, and use that opportunity to take power in France. He would use the military to establish his name in history, and it began at Toulon.

Local Government assignment Coursework Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1250 words

Local Government assignment - Coursework Example The local councils of England offer significant concern towards the education of the students thereby improving the number of primary and secondary schools of the area. The main urge of the local councils is to improve the educational facilities thereby enhancing the scope of employment so as to cope up with the recent challenges. In addition, the local government authority (LGA) offers free educational facilities (Local Government Association, 2012). Apart from this, the local authority also tries to offer good transport facilities to the citizens of England so as to ease the problems related to travelling. In order to relieve the citizens from chaotic travelling, the local councils of England have offered good quality of roads and streets. Along with this, the local authorities and Primary Care Trust (PCT) also tries to offer social services for the disabled children and adults so as to provide intensive care. Moreover, the local authorities of England also offer discretionary services to the citizens so as to maintain the welfare and security among the community members (Communities and Local Government, 2003). In addition, the local councils also introduced special pension scheme so as to secure the future of adult generations along with reduction in liquidity rates (Audit Commission, 2010). Moreover, proper maintenance of health and security of the citizens regardless of age is one of the significant responsibilities of the councils so as to reduce the health disparities. Along with this, proper preservation of cultural heritages is also equally important for the councils. In order to retain the cultural heritages, LGA tries to maintain the library, royal streets, sports and varied tourist places so as to attract new tourists and enhance the revenue of the nation. Moreover, the councils of England also attempt to improve the environmental as well as protect the communities from unfavourable climatic changes thereby introducing the concept of