Varnasrama-dharma, the Hindu Caste System

Varnasrama-dharma, the Hindu Caste System Free Online Research Papers This paper will investigate the Hindu standing framework. Varnasrama-dharma, as applied to the varnas, or stations, is one of the basic parts of Hinduism. Its causes follow back to the 1500’s, when the Aryans attacked India from that point Persia. The intricate pecking order was concocted as a framework to encourage the oppression of the vanquished clans. The position framework depends on the rule that human culture resembles an intricate machine, with people and networks as its parts. On the off chance that the parts are powerless, broken, or requested to play out a capacity it was not intended for, the machine won't work. In like manner, each part has its place and capacity; no part can carry out the responsibility of another, and all must save their place for the machine to work easily. This Dharma, our place inside and obligation to the machine of society, isn't only fundamental to our bliss, however the joy of all. Hindu society is generally partitioned into four primary stations, with every principle standing isolated into many sub-positions, or jati. The capacity of these positions is to measure how ‘pure’ an individual is, and in this way that he is so near coming to Moksha, or illumination. Being destined to a higher station means that one had lived one’s past lives in a sacred way. Therefore, the higher standings should live heavenly lives themselves, or they will relapse to a lower station in their next life; or more regrettable, be brought into the world outside of the ranks altogether (Flesher). The most elevated position is the Brahmins, the holy rank. Their dharma is to contemplate and comprehend the Vedas, Hindu’s four sacred messages, and carry this information to other people. The subsequent station is the Kshatriya, the warrior/administering class, who ensures and manages the individuals. Vaishya, the expert position, work in business and creation to give monetarily to the individuals. The Shudra, most reduced of the stations, are hirelings to the higher three standings, giving the work which moves society. Some upward portability is conceivable, in that every station has several jati. It is conceivable in one’s lifetime, by marriage or financial matters, to accomplish an alternate jati, yet never to rise above or tumble from the principle position one is naturally introduced to. There is a portion of society that is low to the point that it was once not formally viewed as a standing. These are the Harijan; when known as the untouchables. The untouchables were considered entirely debased, and were given situations inside society to mirror that. These employments normally included taking care of dead issue and rottenness, for example, road sweepers, butchers, lavatory cleaners, and so forth. They are untouchable from society to the point that they may not come into physical contact with one of the unadulterated throws. On the off chance that such contact were to happen, or regardless of whether a distant were to contact a threw person’s assets or furniture, the threw individual would quickly be required to wash down his individual or property (Anand). From the outset appearance, the Hindu rank structure and the social laws relating to rights dependent on standing appear to be biased and select. The most reduced rank, Shudra, isn't permitted to hear or consider the blessed Vedas. Be that as it may, from a strict point of view, the rank framework isn't harsh in itself. The Shudra are not permitted the Vedas, however they are permitted to partake in the Hindu religion. It might appear to be counterproductive to deny them the very messages that direct their position and dharma, yet Hindus accept that each and every individual who is naturally introduced to a standing is there which is as it should be. Karma, how you spend a lifetime, which tails you all through your numerous lifetimes, figures out which position you will be in for the following lifetime. You might be downgraded to a creature, repositioned inside the standings, or allowed Moksha. One’s karma and achievement in satisfying one’s dharma decide whether one is prepared for a station in which he will be permitted to consider the Vedas and progress along Samsara; the pattern of life, demise, and resurrection. Defenders of the position framework contend that it gives the appropriate responses that individuals go to religion for. It gives the individuals a social structure that supports closeness with different individuals from your station. It gives an individual a significance to life, regardless of whether that importance is to serve or clear the road. It gives an objective and a reason. The station framework has the benefit of plainly characterizing profound quality and giving individuals a firm spot in the public eye. Despite the fact that one will most likely be unable to raise is position inside a lifetime, neither can his station be brought down. It empowers one to focus upon their dharma, to improve their karma, and progress toward resurrection in a higher standing. â€Å"Since it is acknowledged that one’s station is dictated by one’s past karma, there is no motivation to be angry about one’s part or jealousy others† (Ludwig, 109). Truly, the station framework has not been actualized as the Vedas teach. The framework has come to be a progression wherein the most minimal levels are not given the regard told in strict writings (Embry). Spoilers point to this as why, even with the standing framework formally broke down by the Indian law based government, position based segregation keeps on being a hardship on the lower stations with regards to business and monetary improvement. Today, things are significantly better with the acquaintance of projects comparable with Affirmative Action, and free training for every Indian resident. Still a total and certifiable equity for all keeps on evading them. It ought to be called attention to, with the official evacuation of the standing framework; the entryway has been opened to social backfire, frequently alluded to as ‘reverse discrimination.’ Policies initially intended to even out the treatment of the sum total of what residents have been over expanded and twisted. Openings once saved for the higher standings are currently accessible to Harijan and Shudra, and really denied to Brahmins. This upswing has set off a re-delineation of society, changing over it to another framework the where once mistreated become the oppressors. Each general public normally delineates its populace based on impact, riches, or training. The varna framework guarantees an elevated expectation of craftsmanship, a feeling of network having a place, family respectability and strict social coherence. Indians have clung to these conventions as a wellspring of monetary and social dependability in a regularly troubled society. Tragically the varna framework has finished thusly. In any case, it doesn't imply that order isn't right. As opposed to rejecting a significant inhabitant of the national religion, it ought to be rebuilt to appropriately reflect karma as set in the Vedas. References Flesher, Paul. Social Organization; The Caste System. Recovered February 02, 2010 from http://uwacadweb.uwyo.edu/religionet/er/hinduism/HORGS.HTM Anand, Mulk Raj: Untouchable. London. Penguin Putnam, 1940. Embree, Ainslie T.: Indias Search For National Identity. Delhi, India. Chanakya Publications, 1980. Research Papers on Varnasrama-dharma, the Hindu Caste SystemBionic Assembly System: A New Concept of SelfCapital Punishment19 Century Society: A Deeply Divided EraIncorporating Risk and Uncertainty Factor in CapitalPETSTEL examination of IndiaGenetic EngineeringInfluences of Socio-Economic Status of Married MalesNever Been Kicked Out of a Place This NiceTwilight of the UAWDefinition of Export Quotas

BP Exploration Case Study Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1000 words

BP Exploration - Case Study Example Drawing on your past examination, to what degree do you trust BP Exploration's relative execution can be continued in the medium term In the course of the most recent five years, BP Exploration has drawn on various assets and abilities which keep it probably the greatest organization and one of the biggest oil and petrochemicals bunches on the planet. BP utilizes in excess of 65,000 individuals in 70 nations. BP Exploration is liable for 60% of BP's overall income. It utilizes 60% of BP's staff and has in excess of 40 autonomous Assets.1 BP's work on oil and petroleum gas investigation and creation, along with the administration of unrefined petroleum and flammable gas pipelines, handling and fare terminals has driven the organization to numerous territories of the globe. BP Exploration has a wide asset base; as of now with solid situations in Alaska, the North Sea and North America, it is presently creating major new fields in Angola, Azerbaijan, Trinidad, Algeria and in the Gulf of Mexico, with condensed flammable gas business venturing into the Asia Pacific Region. BP's TNK BP adventure in Russia utilizes 100,000 individuals. It claims and works five processing plants through West Siberia, the Volga-Urals and East Siberia. The BTC Pipeline currently runs 443km through Azerbaijan, 249km through Georgia and 1,076km through Turkey. The pipeline, covered its whole length, has eight siphon stations. It is the principal direct pipeline interface between the Caspian Sea and the Mediterranean. BP trusts the BTC venture wi ll carry positive financial preferences to the locale and abstain from expanding oil traffic through the defenseless Turkish Straits. Notwithstanding BP Exploration's activities around the world, BP advances an 'Upstream' mentality - the organization progresses in the direction of long haul maintainable business, conveying prevalent assistance through cycle returns by having a more noteworthy portion of huge, minimal effort oil and gas fields.2 BP has actualized key effective procedures so as to stay a world chief. These are: holding fast on an Earth-wide temperature boost and environmental change; advancing an 'upward criticism' system in-house; and advancement of a business insight technique. To a huge degree BP Exploration's assets and capacities are very much lined up with its marketable strategy, creating an upper hand for the organization overall. In the late 1990's BP made a break with the petrochemical business and set a trend. The organization's administration comprehended it was acceptable business to fuse nature into business and network vital arranging. In May 1997, BP CEO, John Brown gave a spearheading discourse, reporting BP's choice to acknowledge that environmental change is happening and its expectation to take care of business. This move made BP a ton of consideration from the world's media, hippies and legislators. BP was the first worldwide to make such a stand. It focused on diminishing nursery outflows and to joining universal endeavors in limiting nursery discharges. Sunlight based vitality was formally focused on, on a standard with BP's three different undertakings: investigation, oil and chemicals.3 In-house, BP's 'upward criticism system', was intended to make a more prominent feeling of occupation fulfillment for representatives while working in agreement with the organization's development. Senior administration was resolved to accomplish a progressively open style in the work environment; in view of submitted groups occupied with open, fair correspondence to design and accomplish corporate,

Outbox June 1, 2018

Inbox/Outbox June 1, 2018 I’m moving from Des Moines to NYC next week, so I’m in the process of packing up my life and, most importantly, my personal library. I’m flying out for a summer program, and my books won’t rejoin me until I’m settled into an apartment sometime in the fall. As you can imagine, this indefinite period of separation has made the packing process more difficult. It’s also driven my reading over the past few weeks as I say goodbye to my local library, choose what to sell or donate, and borrow those last few books from my parents before I move 1,100 miles away from home. Inbox (books acquired) (Dont) Call Me Crazy edited by Kelly Jensen (October 2nd, Algonquin Young Readers) I just got approved for an electronic ARC of this book, the next anthology from Book Riot’s very own Kelly Jensen. This collection features essays on mental health from dozens of writers, including YA authors Adam Silvera, Libba Bray, and Victoria Schwab, and even a few fellow Rioters. I can’t wait to dive in and see how these stories add to contemporary conversations about mental health. Bluebird, Bluebird by Attica Locke After months on hold, I finally the audiobook from my library, just in time for my last-minute packing frenzy. I don’t read a lot of mysteries, but this one’s received high praise from other Rioters and fits Read Harder task 21 (a mystery by a person of color or LGBTQ+ author). The story follows a black Texas Ranger solving two murders in a small town rife with racial tensions. I’m about 10% in and already loving the southern noir writing style. Outbox (books finished) Textbook Amy Krouse Rosenthal by Amy Krouse Rosenthal I stumbled upon this book while shelving at my local library where I volunteer (volunteered? Sob. Moving is weird). I’d heard of the author through John Green, who’s mentioned Rosenthal as an influential figure in his early writing career. I loved the unconventional format of this memoir, which creatively bounces off of the school subjects that make up its chapters. There’s even an interactive texting component. Rosenthal’s unmatched capacity for wonder struck a deep chord with meâ€"the book felt like a gift. The author passed away in 2017, the year after the book’s publication, which made certain passages all the more poignant. Life on Mars by Tracy K. Smith I had never read anything by Tracy K. Smith, but when I found this while shelving in the poetry section, I remembered she’s the current Poet Laureate of the United States. This beautiful collection of spacey poems repeatedly drew me out of myself with awe. There are some incredible lines in here, including this stanza from “No-Fly Zone”: …Look, I want to say, / The worst thing you can imagine has already / Zipped up its coat and is heading back / Up the road to wherever it came from. On Chesil Beach by Ian Mcewan I hadn’t heard of this book until I watched this interview with Saoirse Ronan about the new movie adaptation in which she’s starring. I checked Libby, and my library had a copy of the audiobook. Set in 1962, this novella follows two virgins on their wedding night, which turns disastrous as the story unpacks their physical and emotional issues. It’s concise and well written, evoking all kinds of emotions and empathy as we witness the pain, sadness, and downright awkwardness of the evening. The Man Who Loved Clowns by June Rae Wood A friend gave me this book a few years ago, and I finally got around to reading it (thanks Kayla!). This middle-grade book follows thirteen-year-old Delrita and her Uncle Punky, a man in his 30s living with Down’s syndrome. The author based the story on her relationship with her brother, who also had Downs syndrome. The result is a sweet, heartfelt, and often sad book about living with and loving those with disabilities. I’ll be dropping it in a little free library before I move in the hope that it continues to foster empathy in future readers. In the Queue (Whats Next) One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez Technically this is not “on deck.” I have been reading this off and on since September 2017, but this is the week I power through the last third. Why is it taking me so long, you ask? Because I’m actually reading Cien años de soledad, the original Spanish version, which a friend gave me at the end of my year teaching in Spain. It’s a far more ambitious read than the other books I’ve tackled in Spanishâ€"the first three Harry Potter booksâ€"so I’m inching along with the help of Shmoop summaries, SpanishDict.com, and the English translation. I really, really, (really) want to finish it before I move. Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry I started this as an audiobook a few months ago but didn’t care for the narrator’s voice and gave up after the first third. It’s one of my mom’s favorite books, though, so I want to give it another chance before I moveâ€"I’ll be borrowing her physical copy, which will be a lot easier now than when I’m in New York. The book follows the title character as she looks back on her seventy-some years of life (hey, that fits Read Harder task 23!). My mom relates a lot to Hannah, whose children all grew up and moved away, which is becoming the story of me and my three siblingsâ€"once I move, the closest to home is still a five-hour drive away.

Analysis Of The Poem The Chrysanthemums - 966 Words

Freedom is the ability to speak, act, think, and do what you want without any restrictions from anyone or anything. The stories â€Å"The Story of an Hour† and â€Å"The Chrysanthemums† have a theme of freedom that is expressed through the use of the main characters Elise and Mrs. Miller (Louise). The two characters are woman who wish for freedom. Though they are women with husbands that love them and beautiful homes they are restricted by their marriage, gender, and the social norm of their time period. These two women do not just want any type of freedom, they want freedom of independence. To do as they wish, act as they wish, speak as they wish. In the story â€Å"The Chrysanthemums† the theme of freedom is very subtle. Elise the main character is an intelligent, ambitious, beautiful woman with a lot to offer but because she is a woman her potentials is ignored. Elise does not have the freedom to do the things that men can do such as working in a ranch, or goi ng around in car fixing things like the Tinker does. Elise is trapped in the social norm of her time period. The 1930s was a time were women had the right to vote and were becoming more and more independent but they were far from being equal with men. Women were still considered the subordinate sex. They cook, clean and do all the housework while the men go to work. When Elise’s husband says he wished â€Å"[she] would work out in the orchard†, Elisa answers â€Å"[she] could do it† instead of she will do it (Steinbeck, 589). She answeredShow MoreRelatedJohn Steinbeck2062 Words   |  9 Pagesbeen develop such as novel, poems, and short stories. Short Stories are described has miniature versions of books or novels, where an author takes a tale and crams it into a ten to twenty page story. John Steinbeck is not only a well-known novelist, but also writes short stories like â€Å"The Chrysanthemums† and â€Å"Flight†. In Steinbeck’s â€Å"Th e Chrysthemums† Elisa Allen is married to a negligent ranch owner. While her husband works on the ranch, Elisa tends to her chrysanthemum garden daily. One day whileRead MoreEnglish All Semester 26504 Words   |  27 Pagesconquer in battle; subjugate; to defeat in a contest, conflict, or competition. | virulent | adjective | bitterly hostile or antagonistic; hateful | yarn-spinner | noun | a weaver of tall-tales, a spinner of stories | 6.04A The Chrysanthemums ------------------------------------------------- Top of Form Question 1 (Multiple Choice Worth 5 points) How does Steinbeck show the simple lifestyles led in this story? Elisa and Henry worry about how they will pay for their dinnerRead MoreAnalysis of â€Å"Dark Shadows† as a Gothic Masterpiece2169 Words   |  9 PagesAnalysis of â€Å"Dark Shadows† as a Gothic Masterpiece To most, when asked to define what Gothic is, they will state that it is similar to any other story, just with more â€Å"darkness.† This is because Gothic stories all have a classic story line. First, there is the main character’s back story, if any is then told. Next, there are events that lead up to a horrible incident that is the climax of the story. Lastly, the character finds some way to fix the situation or free him- or herself fromRead MoreSex and Dominance in The Ghost Road Essay3936 Words   |  16 PagesLizzies contribution to the war effort.   Unfortunately for Lizzie, five of the seven turned out not to have enlisted at all   (Barker 36).   Despite the fact that Lizzie was Priors best friends mother, he copulates with her, inviting a Freudian analysis of Priors sexual motivations.      Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Next, a Scarborough whore called Elinor feigns to trip across Prior as he walks down the road.   Prior is tempted, but hesitant; he eventually concedes and follows Elinor to her flat.   Inside, Prior

The New Jim Crow By Michelle Alexander - 1666 Words

During the Civil Rights Era, many black power movements strived to prevent the New Jim Crow from happening. The black man was being oppressed during segregation and treated like animals. The white supremacy, only visualize African Americans as slaves, people who should not be a part of the United States. Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X drove men and women to fight for his or her rights. However, that was not enough to stop the white supremacy from oppressing African Americans. The Civil Rights movement did put an end to public segregation. It did not put not put an end to the laws being made by the government, which is dominated by the white race. In the book, The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander discussed how the Civil Rights and black power movements helped African Americans gain their equal rights, but did not help to gain political power. Mass Incarceration is where the African Americans’ lives end because of the social structure created by the government. Blacks ar e mostly in the lower class because after the Great Depression, Roosevelt only created laws for whites. This allowed the white community to build and move out the cities into better neighborhoods. Leaving the black community behind. The government placed businesses and built big buildings to keep all the blacks in one place. Base on how the black community was viewed as a race and social status, gives this race a higher chance of being behind bars. Mass Incarceration began in the 1960s because crimesShow MoreRelatedThe New Jim Crow By Michelle Alexander1313 Words   |  6 Pages The New Jim Crow Michelle Alexander’s the new Jim Crow Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness examine the Jim Crow practices post slavery and the mass incarceration of African-American. The creation of Jim Crows laws where used as a tool to promote segregation among the minority and white American. Michelle Alexander’s the new Jim Crow Mass takes a look at Jim Crow laws and policies were put into place to block the social progression African-American from the post-slavery to the civilRead MoreThe New Jim Crow By Michelle Alexander1316 Words   |  6 Pages The New Jim Crow Michelle Alexander’s the new Jim Crow Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness examine the Jim Crow practices post slavery and the mass incarceration of African-American. The creation of Jim Crows laws were used as a tool to promote segregation among the minority and white American. Michelle Alexander’s the new Jim Crow Mass takes a look at Jim Crow laws and policies were put into place to block the social progression African-American from the post-slavery to theRead MoreThe New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander960 Words   |  4 PagesThe New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander tries to advance intellectual dialogue regarding mass incarceration in the United States. Alexander does this by carrying out a historical analysis of the process in which the correctional system controls African Americans through intentionally selected, and systematically sanctioned legal limits. In fact, the United States incarceration rate is not at peak by coincidence. Moreover, it is not c oincidental that Black men and women make up the majority of thisRead MoreThe New Jim Crow By Michelle Alexander Essay1653 Words   |  7 PagesThe third critical book review for this class takes a look at â€Å"The New Jim Crow† by Michelle Alexander published in 2012 by the New York Press. This book analyzes the problem with the incarceration system in the United States today that unfairly affects the African American community. This incarceration system is continuing to separate families, strip men of their freedom, and effectually make them into second class citizens upon release from prison as â€Å"free† men. She even describes that thoseRead MoreThe New Jim Crow By Michelle Alexander1253 Words   |  6 PagesThe book, The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander is about the mass incarceration of African Americans in the criminal justice system. It depicts individuals who were arrested on drug crimes. Because these individuals are labeled as criminals, it becom es difficult for them to find work, housing, and public assistance. (Alexander, 2010) The themes in this book include denial and ignorance, racism and violence, and drugs. Denial and ignorance is a common behavior noted in this book. Many times peopleRead MoreThe New Jim Crow, By Michelle Alexander Essay1511 Words   |  7 PagesRacism is a thing of the past, or is it? Michelle Alexander’s, â€Å"The New Jim Crow,† main focus is on mass incarceration and how it occurs in an era of color blindness. Alexander also focuses on the social oppressions that African Americans have suffered throughout the years, until now. In this essay, I will discuss how the system of control was constructed, Alexander’s compelling historical analysis, and if the current system would be easier to dismantle. I would like to start by delving into howRead MoreThe New Jim Crow, By Michelle Alexander929 Words   |  4 Pagescriminal on record causing them to struggle in society. REVIEW OF LITERATURE Michelle Alexander author of The New Jim Crow, whose specialty, are racial profiling, racism in the United States and race in the criminal justice system, revealed how the government incarceration system is set up for failure, especially for the oppressed minorities in society. â€Å"Observers have referred to the advent of mass imprisonment as â€Å"The New Jim Crow† because the devastating racial impact of imprisonment effectively isolatesRead MoreThe New Jim Crow By Michelle Alexander2184 Words   |  9 Pages Paola Gonzalez Professor Maroney The American Experience May 6, 2015 The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander The New Jim Crow book written by Michelle Alexander and Michelle McCool addresses the racial dimensions of the War on Drugs. The book disputes that the federal drug policy purposefully targets lower minority groups and communities of color to keep black people incarcerated and off the streets. The book starts of disproving the idea that racism no longer exists by proving that racism is stillRead MoreThe New Jim Crow By Michelle Alexander Essay2059 Words   |  9 PagesIn the book The New Jim Crow author Michelle Alexander argues that a racial caste system still exists in the United States. Furthermore, this caste system is set up by the social control that is created by the discriminatory practices of the War on Drugs. The War on Drugs and mass incarcerations create a racial â€Å"undercaste† of African-Americans, by marginalizing ex-offenders in America. Within her arguments she describes the racist practices of, and policies surrounding, the War on Drugs. These extendRead MoreMichelle Alexander s The New Jim Crow1495 Words   |  6 Pages Baker, Anderson, and Dorn (1992) talk â€Å"A Critical Thinking Approach† giving the readers six guidelines to follow when critically assessing any literary work, all of which can apply to Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow. The first guideline is about how accessible is her work. Throughout the book, Alexander made her work as clear and concise as she possibly could by explaining certain points over again in a different chapter to make sure that the audience understands what she is trying to say

A Dirty Job Chapter 2 Free Essays

2 A FINE EDGE There’s a fine edge to new grief, it severs nerves, disconnects reality – there’s mercy in a sharp blade. Only with time, as the edge wears, does the real ache begin. So Charlie was barely even aware of his own shrieks in Rachel’s hospital room, of being sedated, of the filmy electric hysteria that netted everything he did for that first day. We will write a custom essay sample on A Dirty Job Chapter 2 or any similar topic only for you Order Now After that, it was a memory out of a sleepwalk, scenes filmed from a zombie’s eye socket, as he ambled undead through explanations, accusations, preparations, and ceremony. â€Å"It’s called a cerebral thromboembolism,† the doctor had said. â€Å"A blood clot forms in the legs or pelvis during labor, then moves to the brain, cutting off the blood supply. It’s very rare, but it happens. There was nothing we could do. Even if the crash team had been able to revive her, she’d have had massive brain damage. There was no pain. She probably just felt sleepy and passed.† Charlie whispered to keep from screaming, â€Å"The man in mint green! He did something to her. He injected her with something. He was there and he knew that she was dying. I saw him when I brought her CD back.† They showed him the security tapes – the nurse, the doctor, the hospital’s administrators and lawyers – they all watched the black-and-white images of him leaving Rachel’s room, of the empty hallway, of his returning to her room. No tall black man dressed in mint green. They didn’t even find the CD. Sleep deprivation, they said. Hallucination brought on by exhaustion. Trauma. They gave him drugs to sleep, drugs for anxiety, drugs for depression, and they sent him home with his baby daughter. Charlie’s older sister, Jane, held baby Sophie as they spoke over Rachel and buried her on the second day. He didn’t remember picking out a casket or making arrangements. It was more of the somnambulant dream: his in-laws moving to and fro in black, like tottering specters, spouting the inadequate clichs of condolence: We’re so sorry. She was so young. What a tragedy. If there’s anything we can do†¦ Rachel’s father and mother held him, their heads pressed together in the apex of a tripod. The slate floor in the funeral-home foyer spotted with their tears. Every time Charlie felt the shoulders of the older man heave with a sob, he felt his own heart break again. Saul took Charlie’s face in his hands and said, â€Å"You can’t imagine, because I can’t imagine.† But Charlie could imagine, because he was a Beta Male, and imagination was his curse; and he could imagine because he had lost Rachel and now he had a daughter, that tiny stranger sleeping in his sister’s arms. He could imagine the man in mint green taking her. Charlie looked at the tear-spotted floor and said, â€Å"That’s why most funeral homes are carpeted. Someone could slip.† â€Å"Poor boy,† said Rachel’s mother. â€Å"We’ll sit shivah with you, of course.† Charlie made his way across the room to his sister, Jane, who wore a man’s double-breasted suit in charcoal pinstripe gabardine, that along with her severe eighties pop-star hairstyle and the infant in the pink blanket that she held, made her appear not so much androgynous as confused. Charlie thought the suit actually looked better on her than it did on him, but she should have asked him for permission to wear it nonetheless. â€Å"I can’t do this,† he said. He let himself fall forward until the receded peninsula of dark hair touched her gelled Flock of Seagulls platinum flip. It seemed like the best posture for sharing grief, this forehead lean, and it reminded him of standing drunkenly at a urinal and falling forward until his head hit the wall. Despair. â€Å"You’re doing fine,† Jane said. â€Å"Nobody’s good at this.† â€Å"What the fuck’s a shivah?† â€Å"I think it’s that Hindu god with all the arms.† â€Å"That can’t be right. The Goldsteins are going to sit on it with me.† â€Å"Didn’t Rachel teach you anything about being Jewish?† â€Å"I wasn’t paying attention. I thought we had time.† Jane adjusted baby Sophie into a half-back, one-armed carry and put her free hand on the back of Charlie’s neck. â€Å"You’ll be okay, kid.† Seven,† said Mrs. Goldstein. â€Å"Shivah means ‘seven.’ We used to sit for seven days, grieving for the dead, praying. That’s Orthodox, now most people just sit for three.† They sat shivah in Charlie and Rachel’s apartment that overlooked the cable-car line at the corner of Mason and Vallejo Streets. The building was a four-story brick Edwardian (architecturally, not quite the grand courtesan couture of the Victorians, but enough tarty trim and trash to toss off a sailor down a side street) built after the earthquake and fire of 1906 had leveled the whole area of what was now North Beach, Russian Hill, and Chinatown. Charlie and Jane had inherited the building, along with the thrift shop that occupied the ground floor, when their father died four years before. Charlie got the business, the large, double apartment they’d grown up in, and the upkeep on the old building, while Jane got half the rental income and one of the apartments on the top floor with a Bay Bridge view. At the instruction of Mrs. Goldstein, all the mirrors in the house were draped with black fabric and a large candle was placed on the coffee table in the center of the living room. They were supposed to sit on low benches or cushions, neither of which Charlie had in the house, so, for the first time since Rachel’s death, he went downstairs into the thrift shop looking for something they could use. The back stairs descended from a pantry behind the kitchen into the stockroom, where Charlie kept his office among boxes of merchandise waiting to be sorted, priced, and placed in the store. The shop was dark except for the light that filtered in the front window from the streetlights out on Mason Street. Charlie stood there at the foot of the stairs, his hand on the light switch, just staring. Amid the shelves of knickknacks and books, the piles of old radios, the racks of clothes, all of them dark, just lumpy shapes in the dark, he could see objects glowing a dull red, nearly pulsing, like beating hearts. A sweater in the racks, a porcelain figure of a frog in a curio case, out by the front window an old Coca-Cola tray, a pair of shoes – all glowing red. Charlie flipped the switch, fluorescent tubes fired to life across the ceiling, flickering at first, and the shop lit up. The red glow disappeared. â€Å"Okaaaaaaay,† he said to himself, calmly, like everything was just fine now. He flipped off the lights. Glowing red stuff. On the counter, close to where he stood, there was a brass business-card holder cast in the shape of a whooping crane, glowing dull red. He took a second to study it, just to make sure there wasn’t some red light source from outside refracting around the room and making him uneasy for no reason. He stepped into the dark shop, took a closer look, got an angle on the brass cranes. Nope, the brass was definitely pulsing red. He turned and ran back up the steps as fast as he could. He nearly ran over Jane, who stood in the kitchen, rocking Sophie gently in her arms, talking baby talk under her breath. â€Å"What?† Jane said. â€Å"I know you have some big cushions down in the shop somewhere.† â€Å"I can’t,† Charlie said. â€Å"I’m on drugs.† He backed against the refrigerator, like he was holding it hostage. â€Å"I’ll go get them. Here, hold the baby.† â€Å"I can’t, I’m on drugs. I’m hallucinating.† Jane cradled the baby in the crook of her right arm and put a free arm around her younger brother. â€Å"Charlie, you are on antidepressants and antianxiety drugs, not acid. Look around this apartment, there’s not a person here that’s not on something.† Charlie looked through the kitchen pass-through: women in black, most of them middle-aged or older, shaking their heads, men looking stoic, standing around the perimeter of the living room, each holding a stout tumbler of liquor and staring into space. â€Å"See, they’re all fucked up.† â€Å"What about Mom?† Charlie nodded to their mother, who stood out among the other gray-haired women in black because she was draped in silver Navaho jewelry and was so darkly tanned that she appeared to be melting into her old-fashioned when she took a sip. â€Å"Especially Mom,† Jane said. â€Å"I’ll go look for something to sit shivah on. I don’t know why you can’t just use the couches. Now take your daughter.† â€Å"I can’t. I can’t be trusted with her.† â€Å"Take her, bitch!† Jane barked in Charlie’s ear – sort of a whisper bark. It had long ago been determined who was the Alpha Male between them and it was not Charlie. She handed off the baby and cut to the stairs. â€Å"Jane,† Charlie called after her. â€Å"Look around before you turn on the lights. See if you see anything weird, okay?† â€Å"Right. Weird.† She left him standing there in the kitchen, studying his daughter, thinking that her head might be a little oblong, but despite that, she looked a little like Rachel. â€Å"Your mommy loved Aunt Jane,† he said. â€Å"They used to gang up on me in Risk – and Monopoly – and arguments – and cooking.† He slid down the fridge door, sat splayed-legged on the floor, and buried his face in Sophie’s blanket. In the dark, Jane barked her shin on a wooden box full of old telephones. â€Å"Well, this is just stupid,† she said to herself, and flipped on the lights. Nothing weird. Then, because Charlie was many things, but one of them was not crazy, she turned off the lights again, just to be sure that she hadn’t missed something. â€Å"Right. Weird.† There was nothing weird about the store except that she was standing there in the dark rubbing her shin. But then, right before she turned on the light again, she saw someone peering in the front window, making a cup around his eyes to see through the reflection of the streetlights. A homeless guy or drunken tourist, she thought. She moved through the dark shop, between columns of comic books stacked on the floor, to a spot behind a rack of jackets where she could get a clear view of the window, which was filled with cheap cameras, vases, belt buckles, and all manner of objects that Charlie had judged worthy of interest, but obviously not worthy of a smash-and-grab. The guy looked tall, and not homeless, nicely dressed, but all in a single light color, she thought it might be yellow, but it was hard to tell under the streetlights. Could be light green. â€Å"We’re closed,† Jane said, loud enough to be heard through the glass. The man outside peered around the shop, but couldn’t spot her. He stepped back from the window and she could see that he was, indeed, tall. Very tall. The streetlight caught the line of his cheek as he turned. He was also very thin and very black. â€Å"I was looking for the owner,† the tall man said. â€Å"I have something I need to show him.† â€Å"There’s been a death in the family,† Jane said. â€Å"We’ll be closed for the week. Can you come back in a week?† The tall man nodded, looking up and down the street as he did. He rocked on one foot like he was about to bolt, but kept stopping himself, like a sprinter straining against the starting blocks. Jane didn’t move. There were always people out on the street, and it wasn’t even late yet, but this guy was too anxious for the situation. â€Å"Look, if you need to get something appraised – â€Å" â€Å"No,† he cut her off. â€Å"No. Just tell him she’s, no – tell him to look for a package in the mail. I’m not sure when.† Jane smiled to herself. This guy had something – a brooch, a coin, a book – something that he thought was worth some money, maybe something he’d found in his grandmother’s closet. She’d seen it a dozen times. They acted like they’ve found the lost city of Eldorado – they’d come in with it tucked in their coats, or wrapped in a thousand layers of tissue paper and tape. (The more tape, generally, the more worthless the item would turn out to be – there was an equation there somewhere.) Nine times out of ten it was crap. She’d watched her father try to finesse their ego and gently lower the owners into disappointment, convince them that the sentimental value made it priceless, and that he, a lowly secondhand-store owner, couldn’t presume to put a value on it. Charlie, on the other hand, would just tell them that he didn’t know about brooches, or coins, or whatever they had and let someone else bear the b ad news. â€Å"Okay, I’ll tell him,† Jane said from her cover behind the coats. With that, the tall man was away, taking great praying-mantis strides up the street and out of view. Jane shrugged, went back and turned on the lights, then proceeded to search for cushions among the piles. It was a big store, taking up nearly the whole bottom floor of the building, and not particularly well organized, as each system that Charlie adopted seemed to collapse after a few weeks under its own weight, and the result was not so much a patchwork of organizational systems, but a garden of mismatched piles. Lily, the maroon-haired Goth girl who worked for Charlie three afternoons a week, said that the fact that they ever found anything at all was proof of the chaos theory at work, then she would walk away muttering and go out in the alley to smoke clove cigarettes and stare into the Abyss. (Although Charlie noted that the Abyss looked an awful lot like a Dumpster.) It took Jane ten minutes to navigate the aisles and find three cushions that looked wide enough and thick enough that they might work for sitting shivah, and when she returned to Charlie’s apartment she found her brother curled into the fetal position around baby Sophie, asleep on the kitchen floor. The other mourners had completely forgotten about him. â€Å"Hey, doofus.† She nudged his shoulder with her toe and he rolled onto his back, the baby still in his arms. â€Å"These okay?† â€Å"Did you see anything glowing?† Jane dropped the stack of cushions on the floor. â€Å"What?† â€Å"Glowing red. Did you see things in the shop glowing, like pulsating red?† â€Å"No. Did you?† â€Å"Kind of.† â€Å"Give ’em up.† â€Å"What?† â€Å"The drugs. Hand them over. They’re obviously much better than you led me to believe.† â€Å"But you said they were just antianxiety.† â€Å"Give up the drugs. I’ll watch the kid while you shivah.† â€Å"You can’t watch my daughter if you’re on drugs.† â€Å"Fine. Surrender the crumb snatcher and go sit.† Charlie handed the baby up to Jane. â€Å"You have to keep Mom out of the way, too.† â€Å"Oh no, not without drugs.† â€Å"They’re in the medicine cabinet in the master bath. Bottom shelf.† He was sitting on the floor now, rubbing his forehead as if to stretch the skin out over his pain. She kneed him in the shoulder. â€Å"Hey, kid, I’m sorry, you know that, right? Goes without saying, right?† â€Å"Yeah.† A weak smile. She held the baby up by her face, then looked down in adoration, Mother of Jesus style. â€Å"What do you think? I should get one of these, huh?† â€Å"You can borrow mine whenever you need to.† â€Å"Nah, I should get my own. I already feel bad about borrowing your wife.† â€Å"Jane!† â€Å"Kidding! Jeez. You’re such a wuss sometimes. Go sit shivah. Go. Go. Go.† Charlie gathered the cushions and went to the living room to grieve with his in-laws, nervous because the only prayer he knew was â€Å"Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep,† and he wasn’t sure that was going to cut it for three full days. Jane forgot to mention the tall guy from the shop. How to cite A Dirty Job Chapter 2, Essay examples

The Game Of Golf Essays - Golf, , Term Papers

The Game Of Golf Activty: The Stress-Relase of the Game of Golf As a male in this crazy world, I need a form of stress-relase that won't be destructive on me or anybody else. The game of golf might be boring to others in the sense of, all the golfer does is hit the small, white ball into the hole. True, in essense, this is all the game is about, but the difficulty level unmatched. Just hitting the ball won't make it magically go into the hole. A person must know excatly what is going on at the present time to determine what shot has to be made. This is what is the stress-relase for me. Just tring to determine what shot has to be made, at what angle or at a certain force, takes my mind off what has been stressing me. Having been playing golf for five years, in the begining, the game itself was a stressor. I din't want to play much because I wasn't good the minute I picked up a golf club. Having absolutly no patience, my clubs were thrown many a day. It took me at least a year and a half to compete with anybody. But as I persevered, I relized that I wasn't that bad of a golfer. This enlightenment showed me that is I was to stick with something, that I could be good with a little pratice. As I would go to the golf course, I realized that my problems would seem smaller because I would take a few hours out of my day and not think of it. I guess a person, looking from the outside, would say that golf is a form of escape for me. Regetfully, I would have to agree. If a problem has been on my mind and I can't seem to get my head clear, sure I grab the golf clubs and head out to the course. If I didn't have is simple game of putting the small, white ball into the hole, I know for a fact I would be a nervous wreck. Sports and Games