Zeus In Greek Mythology Essay Example For Students

Zeus In Greek Mythology Essay In order to explain certain natural events, such as earthquakes, windstorms, andthunder and lightning storms, The Greeks invented a collection of myths andcharacters. Just as with most modern religions, Greek Mythology bases most ofits myths on morality and ethics issues. Unlike Egyptian Mythology, theGreeks did not focus on what was going to happen in their afterlife. They weremore concerned with the here and now. There was no written special commandmentsin Greek Mythology. The Greeks did, however, base most of their moral andethical ideals on the Iliad and the Odyssey, both written by Homer. In his work,Homer says that man holds his own fate in his hands. He portrays that wrath willcause much suffering, pain, and even death. Homer formed the fundamentalattitude of the Greek mind. He established the foundation of excellence for allaspects of life, and the Greeks put these into their reality. Nothing was knownabout Homer or any part of his life, so the question arises as to whether H omerwas a single individual or was he, in actuality, a collection of authors. TheGreeks had a polytheistic culture. Unlike the religions of other ancientcivilizations, the Greeks created the gods in their own image. They were holydeities that could make contact with humans, often in a disguise. The gods hadthe same desires and weaknesses as human beings and the myths often portrayedthem as lustful, greedy and vengeful. There was no holy place that the Greekswent and prayed to the gods. Instead, the temples that were erected, were forthe gods to come and visit. Festivals were often held to praise the gods. Duringthese festivals, no war could be fought. The gods spoke to humans throughoracles and people often went to these oracles for advise on what the godswanted. The gods were used to explain whether humans would have great fortune orhardships. They lived at the highest point of Greece, Mount Olympus. Accordingto the myths, there were three generations of gods. The first were the Ti tans. We will write a custom essay on Zeus In Greek Mythology specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now The second group of gods were the Olympians and the last were the Lessor Gods. Cronus was the leader of the Titans. He was married to Rhea. As the ruler of theTitans, he had been warned that one of his children would overthrow him. Toprevent this, he swallowed all five of them. Rhea became pregnant again, and didnot want her sixth child to be swallowed. She hid away until the baby was born. This baby was Zeus, later to become the king of the Olympians. When Rheareturned, she deceived Cronus by giving him a rock wrapped in cloth to swallow. After being raised by Nymphs, Zeus grew strong and went back to find Rhea. Gaea,the Earth goddess, gave Zeus a potion. Cronus was, once again, deceived and hedrank the potion. The magic potion forced Cronus to vomit up all of Zeusbrothers and sisters; Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades and Poseidon. A war broke outbetween the Titans and the Olympians. It was a war of natural disasters andusing thunder, lightning, rough seas and volcanoes, the Olympians werevictorious over the Titans. Zeus sent his father and uncles to the underworld. Zeus was the god of the sky and the rain. His weapon was a thunderbolt. Hemarried his sister, Hera, the goddess of marriage. Zeus gained marriage to herthrough trickery. He pretended to be a bird to convince Hera to feel sorry forhim. As soon as she comforted the little creature, he changed back into hisnormal form. He then raped her. Hera only married him because of the shame thatshe felt. Hera was often been portrayed as a jealous nuisance but Zeusrepeatedly chased earth women and goddesses, having many affairs that bore manychildren. The greatest temple in Greece was in honor of Hera. In actuality, themyths show that man worshipped her For before Zeus was worshipped. godoriginally was thought to have the form of the woman. Early man worshipped thefemale body either pregnant or of age to have children. The only power humanshad was over reproduction, so this was sacred. Zeus had two brothers that helpedhim defeat his father Cronus. Poseidon was the God of the sea, earthquakes andhor ses. He also had the ability to change shape, and, oftentimes, he changedinto a horse. The trident was his weapon and although he was allowed to live onMount Olympus, he spent most of the time underwater. Hades was Zeus otherbrother. He chose to rule the underworld. He possessed a helmet that made thewearer invisible to both gods and humans. Aside from the many other gods thatreigned in Mount Olympus, there were dozens of mythical , and sometimesfrightening creatures. The Cyclopes were three brothers, Arges, Brontes andSteropes. They each had only one eye in the middle of their forehead. They werefriends of Zeus because they made the lightning bolts, the trident and thehelmet that later defeated Cronus. Another creature was the Sphinx. She had thebody of a lion, the wings of an eagle and the head of a woman. She would pose aquestion to passers-by who wanted to go into Thebes. What being in onelifetime goes on four legs, at another time on two, and yet when it is old, goeson three? A wrong answer would earn the travelers death by strangulation ofthe Sphinxs lion claws. One day, Oedipus came upon this hideous creature andshe asked the question of him. His answer was, Why the being is man, for as ababy he crawls on four legs and then, when he is grown up, he walks on two. Inold age, a walking stick becomes his third leg. The Sphinx was furious atOedipus because he guessed the answer correct. He broke the spell. One look atMedusa could turn any man to stone. She was once a beautiful girl turned into amonster, with snakes coming from her head, by Athena, the Goddess of wisdom. .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 , .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 .postImageUrl , .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 , .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893:hover , .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893:visited , .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893:active { border:0!important; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893:active , .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893 .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u1348912beee55e4c2c2ac3c64a25a893:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: The Yellow Wallpaper – Journey into Insanity Essay ThesisEver wonder why the city of Atlantis was lost? The myth states that Poseidon,deeply in love with a mortal girl, made an island for her. He married her andthey produced five sets of twins, all male. Atlantis was named after the eldestof the sons, Atlas, after he died. Atlas sons made Atlantis the richestkingdom in all the world.. It had a brass-covered wall around the kingdom and atemple built from solid gold. Soon this wealth became overwhelming. People werefighting and they became very greedy. Zeus, after finding what was happening tothis city, ordered that something be done. He sunk the island to the bottom ofthe ocean sea using a huge tidal wave. Whether or not Atlantis really existed isnot proven, but many have tried to find it. Greek myths gave the Ancient Greeksanswers to the unexplainable that they could relate to. They sent messages tothe people that greed, lust, and wrath could have devastating consequences. Through myths about the gods and mythical creatures, man could see his ownfaults and, possibly prevent or correct them. The Greeks had no idea whylightning burned a whole city to the ground or wind tore apart ships in theMediterranean. They blamed themselves and their gods, the only way thatthey knew how to deal with everyday life. BibliographyAnis Greek Mythology Website. Online. Metacrawler. 25 September 1999. Available http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Acropolis/5065/greek.html. GreekMythology. Online. Metacrawler. 25 September 1999 Available http://www.unistory.com. Hunt, John. Greek Mythology. Online. Metacrawler. 25 September1999. Available http://www.math.utk.edu/ ~vasili/GR_link/Greek_myth/greek_myth. html#Greekmythintro. Mythweb. San Francisco: Fleet Gazelle, 1993. Online. Metacrawler. 25 September 1999. Available http://www.mythweb.com. Parada,Carlos. Greek Mythology Link. 1997. Online. Metacrawler. 25 September 1999. Available http://hsa.brown.edu/~maicar.

Free Essays on The Life Of Music Of Sarah Vaughan

Instruments have always been essential to jazz music but one great vocalist one knew how to captivate listeners in such a way that her voice was all that they heard. Sarah Lois Vaughan was born March 27, 1924 in Newark, New Jersey to a family of a non- famous musical background. Vaughan started early with her musical interest by playing piano, sang in the church choir playing the organ by age 12 and attending Arts High School. In 1942, at the age of 18, Sarah and a friend decided to enter an amateur contest in the now famous Apollo Theater in Harlem, New York. Sarah won the prize of ten dollars and a weeks performance at the theater for singing †Body and Soul† but that is not all she won that day. Billy Eckstine, who was at that time a part of Earl â€Å"FATHA† Hines Big Band invited her to be second pianist and a vocalist in this band. By 1944 Hines had decided to form his own band which included Vaughan along with greats like Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, and Charlie Parker and was known for it’s be-bop style music. During this time she made her first recordings and did a duet with Gillespie called â€Å"Lover Man†. Sarah had later made the decision to go solo. â€Å"Sassy† and â€Å"The Divine One† were two of nicknames given to Vaughan and by 1947 she had married trumpeter George Treadwell. In ’49 she had signed with Columbia Records with a five- year contract. It is during this time where it is said Vaughan did most of her â€Å"sweet† or â€Å"commercial† work. In 1954 when her work with Columbia had been finished Sarah signed with Mercury. This was a great move for her, Mercury also had a more jazz based label called EmArcy, leaving Vaughan free to record both â€Å"popular† and her true love jazz. On the EmArcy label, Sarah recorded with artists such as Cannonball Aderly and Count Basie’s Band. On the more commercial side of her music Sarah was making music with her long time friend Billy Eckstine. Many of articles sa... Free Essays on The Life Of Music Of Sarah Vaughan Free Essays on The Life Of Music Of Sarah Vaughan Instruments have always been essential to jazz music but one great vocalist one knew how to captivate listeners in such a way that her voice was all that they heard. Sarah Lois Vaughan was born March 27, 1924 in Newark, New Jersey to a family of a non- famous musical background. Vaughan started early with her musical interest by playing piano, sang in the church choir playing the organ by age 12 and attending Arts High School. In 1942, at the age of 18, Sarah and a friend decided to enter an amateur contest in the now famous Apollo Theater in Harlem, New York. Sarah won the prize of ten dollars and a weeks performance at the theater for singing †Body and Soul† but that is not all she won that day. Billy Eckstine, who was at that time a part of Earl â€Å"FATHA† Hines Big Band invited her to be second pianist and a vocalist in this band. By 1944 Hines had decided to form his own band which included Vaughan along with greats like Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, and Charlie Parker and was known for it’s be-bop style music. During this time she made her first recordings and did a duet with Gillespie called â€Å"Lover Man†. Sarah had later made the decision to go solo. â€Å"Sassy† and â€Å"The Divine One† were two of nicknames given to Vaughan and by 1947 she had married trumpeter George Treadwell. In ’49 she had signed with Columbia Records with a five- year contract. It is during this time where it is said Vaughan did most of her â€Å"sweet† or â€Å"commercial† work. In 1954 when her work with Columbia had been finished Sarah signed with Mercury. This was a great move for her, Mercury also had a more jazz based label called EmArcy, leaving Vaughan free to record both â€Å"popular† and her true love jazz. On the EmArcy label, Sarah recorded with artists such as Cannonball Aderly and Count Basie’s Band. On the more commercial side of her music Sarah was making music with her long time friend Billy Eckstine. Many of articles sa...

Emily Dickinson Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words - 1

Emily Dickinson - Essay Example She spent much of her childhood and on writing letters to her friends and numerous poems. When Emily was only fourteen, she witnessed the death of her second cousin and close friend, Sophia Holland, and became traumatized. Her parents sent her away to live with family in Boston, where she was able to get proper treatment and recover from the horrific event. After she returned home to Amherst, she also returned to school, where she made numerous friends and correspondences, and found solace in her church. When she completed her time at the Academy, she briefly attended Mount Holyoke Female Seminary, which was short lived due to a mixture of Emily’s failing health and her distaste for the evangelical fervor of the school. She returned home and became, more or less, domesticated, cleaning and cooking for her family. At eighteen, Emily was introduced to Benjamin Franklin Newton, who, according to letters written by Emily herself, was believed to play a large role in the majority o f Emily’s writing as she grew older. He encouraged her writing, sharing with her his belief that she had what it took to be an accomplished, published poet. It was Newton that introduced her to other famous writers and poets, such as William Wordsworth, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Lydia Maria Child. Unfortunately, Newton died not too long after from tuberculosis, and Emily’s brother took on the role of ensuring that his sister got all the books she could possibly want, including many works by William Shakespeare. In 1850, Emily’s emotional and mental states took a turn for the worst. In a span of just a few years, Emily lost a handful of close friends to various illnesses. As a result of these deaths, Emily withdrew into herself, keeping out of sight and sound of society. Emily continued to write her poems, though they focused greatly on the subject of death, which came as no surprise. However, the first half of the 1860s, the years following these deaths, â€Å"p roved to be Dickinson’s most productive writing period (Habegger 405).† In the later half of the 1860s, though, Emily became even more withdrawn, never leaving the house unless she absolutely needed to; even her poems became few and far between. In the mid-1870s, Emily lost both of her parents, as well as a few more close friends, plunging her into an even greater depression, where she remained until she died on May 15, 1886, from Bright’s disease. Emily was considered to be an intelligent poet due to the unique ways in which she wrote her poetry. They contained short lines, slant rhythm, unconventional capitalization and punctation, and they seldom had titles (McNeil 2). Emily often rejected pentameter, preferring to use trimeter, tetrameter, and dimeter, the use of all of these is considered to be irregular. She was also used dashes in the place of periods or commas, which would often increase the moods of her poems. The majority of her poems dealt with death a nd immortality; Emily viewed the latter as something attainable through her writing, which was also a thought she conceived during her brief friendship with Newton. Common themes include the use of flowers and gardens, morbidity, and gospel. Many of Emily’s poems were also peppered with psalms and riddles, as well as hymns and song-forms. When

Culture Assignment Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words

Culture - Assignment Example Consequently, we shall be required to hire a language and cultural interpreter for dealing with Chinese in addition to engaging in selective hiring of expats based on their past international experience particularly with the Chinese. Furthermore, ethical aspects of the Chinese culture may be weak leaving scope for bribery and gift-giving at various levels of business operations. Additionally, team work may be difficult to achieve with the Chinese who do not possess any concept of teams in their culture. However, binding based on understanding of the Chinese language could prove to be a successful strategy in developing strong cross-cultural teams involving Chinese. Finally, the company may have o consider the conflict of home country versus subsidiary strategy based on different cultures prevailing in the two countries. It is recommended that Primark engages in cross-cultural training and engages in selective hiring on expats so that the need for repatriation is minimized. 1. Introdu ction National culture is stated as having a profound effect on the strategy adopted by organizations. Furthermore, the formulation of strategy for our subsidiary in China at our headquarters in U.K could entail the risk of having one national culture dominate over the other when it comes to strategy formulation. A stark difference between the national culture of China and U.K based on Hofstede’s dimensions is also apparent. 2. Chinese culture and HR Policy The Chinese culture is marked by hierarchical ties based on status, paternalistic leadership and emphasis on trust building amongst relationships (Guanxi) which is contrary to the Western notion of formal planning, more objective business dealings and a participative style of management. It is important to understand the key dimensions of masculinity, power distance beliefs, uncertainty avoidance and long term orientation laid down by Hofstede identifies that highlight the differences between the Eastern(including Chinese) and Western (including U.K) national culture(Hofstede, n.d.). The Chinese societies possess high power distance beliefs, collectivism, long term orientation and conformity. Therefore, it is not uncommon for the Chinese to derive satisfaction from collective gains rather than personal achievements. Furthermore, the Chinese people tend to avoid conflict in an attempt to â€Å"save face† and appreciate harmony and cohesion. On the other hand, Western societies such as U.K tend to be more work-centric and highly individualistic with low power-distance beliefs(Edfelt, 2010). Clearly, we run the risk of engaging in what is known as an ethnocentric approach. Sending expatriates from the parent country (in this case, U.K) to assume top managerial positions in the foreign country (China) would be part of our HR policy. However, it is necessary that there is sufficient coordination between these expatriate bosses and the local intermediate managers in China. Research also suggests tha t prior international experience provides valuable work-related and non-work related information for cross-cultural interaction, particularly if that experience has been with a culture similar to the current one(Selmer, 2001). 3. Socialization and business dealings At this stage, hiring of expatriate managers based on their past experience of dealing in cross-national assignments/projects (particularly projects with China) would be necessary as

Special Education Reflection Essay Example for Free

Special Education Reflection Essay Special Education 332 (Education and Inclusion of Individuals with Special Needs) has been enlightening for me as a secondary mathematics educator. In the beginning of the semester, my feelings towards special education were those of apathy and insensitivity. I now understand that my feelings were due to my lack of knowledge and my judgment based on stereotypes. I always knew that making fun of students with learning disabilities was wrong. However, I never felt that inclusion of special education students in general education classes was plausible or made sense. I felt that special education students belonged in their own classrooms; and that is why we have special education educators. As a prospective secondary mathematics educator, I felt that it was unfair that I would have special education students in my classes. I would rationalize my attitude by saying that I signed up to teach normal students, and that the special education students were not my problem or responsibility. I did not want to deal with them. I did not see them as individuals who seek meaning through learning. As a constructivist, my goal as an educator is to provide students with meaning by imparting knowledge. As I reflect on my feelings towards special education students, I ask myself why do I not see them in the same way. If they are students as well, why do I discriminate against them? Why is it, when I think about teaching students with learning disabilities, I get uncomfortable? It is due to my lack of knowledge of students with learning disabilities. It was not until I saw the movie (before our class) I Am Sam, my thoughts about people with learning disabilities started to change. The movie changed my perception that mentally challenged individuals are strange by nature because they do not seem to understand when people talk to them and is different from myself. The movie showed me that they do comprehend information, have feelings as I do, and most importantly, that I have wrongly stereotyped their differences. This course not only gave me the knowledge I needed to understand students with learning disabilities, I was also able to empathize with these students through active participation in the sensitivity activities. Participating in the activities during our class was eye opening; I was able to have a taste of what it was like for people with learning disabilities. I always believed that there was something wrong with people with learning disabilities, and thus classified them as abnormal. The activities made me realize that with their learning disability aside, they were no different from me. People with learning disabilities had their strengths and weaknesses, and I had mine. The activities, without fail, made me frustrated. I wanted to lash out at the world, and I always wondered why students with learning disabilities had emotional problems. I came to realize that people with learning disabilities live with their disabilities for the rest of their lives. That these sensitivity activities were only temporary for us, but it was reality for those dealing with the disabilities. This is what changed me the most, realizing this simple truth. Throughout my years at Lehigh, I have proclaimed that I have a passion to teach, to show students that mathematics is not difficult, and that they are able to understand mathematics. However, when it came to special education students, my philosophy changed, due to their learning disability. I was ignorant to the special education movement of inclusion, because I feared the idea of teaching students who were not normal. I use the word normal in quotations because I now realize that special education students are like anybody else, and that we, special and general education students alike, are all normal. There is nothing wrong with special education students. Special education students are individuals who desire to learn. My feelings towards special education students have also changed through my counseling psychology class. In the class I learned that every student, whether they are homosexuals, rape victims, Jewish, Christian, or special education students, are students. Every student should not be discriminated because of who they are; rather they should be treated as children who need to learn. I was annoyed to find out that students, who had special needs, were included in classes where teachers were not trained or educated and therefore did not know how to instruct these students. I strongly believe that the special education movement of inclusion will succeed only if general education educators become aware of what it means to have learning disabilities and understand the concept of universal design. One of the greatest tools that this class has given me is universal design. Universal design for learning is a process for considering the needs of all students in the classroom and designing curriculum, instruction, and evaluation with sufficient flexibility so that each student benefits (Turnbull, Turnbull, Shank, and Smith, 2004). I will not be able to teach my general education class with special education students in it, by using universal design to teach everyone. I believe that this tool is the most powerful one that will advance the inclusion of special education students in general education classrooms movement. Fortunately, I was placed in a classroom (for my pre-intern teaching experience) where there was a student who had learning disabilities, and was included in a general education classroom. I was able to experience having a special education student in a general education classroom. Through this experience, I was able to get to know the student, and saw that he was an awesome kid. I liked him so much because despite his IEPs, he impressed me with his determination to learn and get good grades. He was a special education student who sought meaning through learning. My transformation became most apparent to me in writing my advocacy letter. I wanted to condemn the publisher of the Website and give him a piece of my mind. How dare he condone such blasphemy? Does he not see the damaging affects that his Website has on the special education community? What I did not see was that I was just like him once. I was also ignorant and apathetic towards students with learning disabilities. Even though, I understand special education students better than I had in the past and empathize with them, I must be careful on how I educate others. How can expect others to listen to me and change their views if I do it in a way that makes them defensive immediately? I have to be sympathetic towards those once in my position, and must communicate myself to produce a change in their view of students with learning disabilities. Furthermore, I must not become disillusioned into thinking that I have learned everything about students with learning disabilities and that I have done a complete one-eighty in my view of these students. There was several times where I caught myself using the term retarded, in describing something that was unintelligent. I must understand that my advocacy towards this issue will only grow if I continue to find out more about learning disabilities, to watch what I say, and to be careful when trying to teach others to change their views. Overall, I must admit that I have been blessed from taking this course. I feel that I have grown throughout the course of the class, where I once stereotyped students with learning disabilities to understanding students with disabilities. Many people judge and classify what they do not understand, and through that ignorance is birthed. I am thankful that I have taken this class as I have become aware of my ignorance and have a deeper understanding and acceptance of those with learning disabilities, inside and outside of the classroom. References Turnbull, R. , Turnbull, A. , Shank, M. , Smith, S. J. (2004). Exceptional Lives: Special Education in Todays Schools. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson Education.

Informed Consent Essay -- Medical Consent

Informed consent is the basis for all legal and moral aspects of a patient’s autonomy. Implied consent is when you and your physician interact in which the consent is assumed, such as in a physical exam by your doctor. Written consent is a more extensive form in which it mostly applies when there is testing or experiments involved over a period of time. The long process is making sure the patient properly understands the risk and benefits that could possible happen during and after the treatment. As a physician, he must respect the patient’s autonomy. For a patient to be an autonomous agent, he must have legitimate moral values. The patient has all the rights to his medical health and conditions that arise. When considering informed consent, the patient must be aware and should be able to give a voluntary consent for the treatment and testing without being coerced, even if coercion is very little. Being coerced into giving consent is not voluntary because others people’s opinions account for part of his decision. Prisoners and the poor population are two areas where coercion is found the most when giving consent. Terminally ill patients also give consent in hope of recovering from their illness. Although the possibilities are slim of having a successful recovery, they proceed with the research with the expectation of having a positive outcome. As stated by Raab, â€Å"informed consent process flows naturally from the ‘partnership’ between physician and patient† (Raab). Despite the fact that informed consent is supposed to educate the patients, it is now more of an avoidance of liability for physicians (Raab). Although the physician provides adequate information to his patient, how can he ensure that his patient properly ... ...nt." Neuropsychopharmacology 24.6 (2001): 595-607. Gert, Heather. "Avoiding Surprises: A Model for Informing Patients." The Hastings Center Reports 32.5 (2002): 23-32. Kuczewski, Mark, and Patricia Marshall. "The Decision Dynamics of Clinical Research: The Context and Process of Informed Consent." Supplement: Making Informed Consent Meaningful 40.9 (2002): 45-54. Moerman, Daniel. "Cultural Variations in the Placebo Effect: Ulcers, Anxiety, and Blood Pressure." Medical Anthropology Quarterly 14.1 (2000): 51-72. Nelson, Robert, and Jon Merz. "Voluntariness of Consent for Research: An Empirical and Conceptual Review." Medical Care 40.9 (2002): 69-80. Raab, Edward L. "The Parameters of Informed Consent." Trans Am Ophthalmol Soc. 102 (2004): 225-32. Rovner, Margaret, and Celia E. Wills. "Improving Informed Consent." Medical Care 40.9 (2002): 30-38.

Bite Me: A Love Story Chapter 16

16. Being the Chronicles of Abby Normal, Nosferatu Well, that was dramatic. Ronnie is all crying and cowering in the other room because I drank a little of her blood. Fuck's sakes, you mopey emo-toy, cowboy the fuck up, you have quarts! What did she expect, she got to kill me, that's not free? I'm not like some easy death slut who lets you kill her for nothing, I am nosferatu, bee-yotch. That shit has a price. Her blood totally tastes like zit cream, too. I almost hurled. I know, trs cool, non? So, now that I am a dark and beautiful creature of unspeakable evil, I think I'm going to start a pay-subscription blog. Except I can only, like, advertise darkness and unspeakable evil, because I'm totally starting from the beginning on the beauty. First, all my tattoos are totally gone. Gone! Like wiped off. After I succumbed to the dark gift by taking a whole bottle of the Motherbot's sleeping pills, Ronnie hid me under a pile of blankets and stuffed animals in her room, and when I awoke at sundown and crawled from my sepulcher of Carebears and Muppets and whatnot, all my tats totally wiped off. Like the ink was pushed out on top of my skin. Now Ronnie has an Epileptic Elmo with more of my ink on him than I have. And my piercings healed up. My bars and rings are all in the carpet. Boobs? Still pathetic. I had so hoped to swoop down on Foo and totally flash my awesome vampyre cleavage on him. You know, like put on a bustier and really squish the girls out the top, then be all: BAM! â€Å"Check it out, Foo. Cower before killer dcolletage, and beg me to let you rub your handsome ninja face on it.† But no! Now he'll be all, â€Å"Oh, it looks like you dropped a couple of dimes down your shirt, vamp child. Can I help you with those?† So I suffer. And you can't get implants. I saw what happens when the Animals' blue hooker turned vampyre. You wake up and your implants are on the floor and you're all, â€Å"Hey, I blew like a hundred strangers to get those.† I'm only estimating. I'm sure the number of strangers will vary depending on prevailing suck and surgical rates in your area. (You acquire arcane medical knowledge when your mother is a nurse.) You can't have stuff removed either, you know, if that might be needed. Even my makeup is ruined from where Ronnie tried to smother me with a pillow, so that's going to take like an hour to fix. I had heard that sometimes even when you overdose on a whole butt-load of drugs, you don't always die because your heart won't stop, which is why you're supposed to put your head in a plastic bag. But I didn't want to because I had done Cleopatra eye makeup that was trs elegant so I would look hawt for my resurrection. So Ronnie was supposed to put her hand over my mouth and nose, just until I stopped breathing, then like fix my lipstick if it smeared. Because otherwise I'd be all girlfriend in a coma for weeks while the Motherbot whined about how she couldn't unplug me because of her guilt for treating me like an assbag and how she had never appreciated my dark complexity and inner beauty and whatnot, and I have too much shit to do for that. But Ronnie didn't even wait for me to pass out. I had just taken the pills with some Sunny D (because the nosferatu love us some irony), and I laid down on the floor like we had planned, so Ronnie could just roll my body under the bed to hide me from the deadly rays of the sun and Mom. So I'm grieving for the loss of my mortality and whatnot, when Ronnie, like, just throws a pillow on my face and sits on it. And I'm all, â€Å"Wait, wait, mmphff, mmphf.† And then she burned one-right in my face-one of those foul, vegan farts-because she's been a vegan ever since she had head lice and we shaved her head. (I don't know why. Something about garlic and parasites. She's insane.) ‘Kayso, I decided that I could wait to receive the dark gift, and that Ronnie would have to die as soon as I got her off me. So she, like, burns another one! And she's skinnier than me. I don't know how she could even have it in her. And she's laughing so hard that she falls off of me and I make my move. ‘Kayso, I'm chasing her around the house, going, â€Å"I'm going to peel off your skin and make it into boots and step in dog shit with them,† and other basic super-villain threats, and then things got all wiggly and the last thing I remember is I walked into the sliding glass doors to the balcony and kind of bounced off. And so tragically, I died young, and no one was there to grieve for me or shed tears for me or kiss my cold, lifeless lips and whatnot. But now I'm undead awesome. I think with practice, I will make a super, super-villain, and really, I'm okay with that, because there won't be any student loans like there would have been with my other career choice of tragic romantic poet. ‘Kayso, now I must fix my makeup and pick an ensem and then wander the lonely night, searching for the Countess and the vampyre Flood, and maybe drop by the love lair to totally overwhelm Foo with my haunting and eternal but still small-chested beauty. Kthxbye. Being immortal rocks! I can type like demon speed! Fear me! L8z. THE EMPEROR The Emperor and the men shared a submarine sandwich on a bench by Pier Nine in the bright noonday sun as they watched a dark knife of a yacht glide into dock. She was just short of the length of a football field, all black, with stainless-steel trim-what the Emperor imagined a star-ship might look like if it were driven by sails. The sails on her three stainless-steel masts were mechanically furled into black carbon fiber shrouds, and the curved windows of her cockpit and cabin were blacked out. There were no crewmen on the deck. In all his years on and around the sea, the Emperor had never seen anything like it. Bummer flattened his ears and growled. â€Å"Easy, little one, it's only a sailing ship, and a beautiful one at that,† said the Emperor, although he thought it quite strange that there was no crew on deck to secure the mooring lines. A ship of that size, and more important, of that expense, would usually have half a dozen or more tying her up, but once parallel with the dock, attitude jets along the sides opened in the hull and gently pushed her into the dock. Jets on the far side pushed back so she stopped within six inches and hovered there, the jets firing just as needed to keep her from drifting. Three hundred feet of steel and carbon fiber, probably over twelve hundred tons, parked as easily and somewhat more smoothly than a Mini Cooper at a strip mall. Bummer ran to the edge of the breakwater and let loose with machine-gun volley of yapping, which translated, â€Å"Bad boat, bad boat, bad boat, bad boat.† A barking fit from his bug-eyed companion was nothing out of the ordinary, and normally the Emperor would have let it pass with a calming word, but there was still half a submarine sandwich to be eaten, and something had to be very much amiss for Bummer to leave the scene of a sandwich. Now Lazarus sniffed the chill wind coming off the Bay and whimpered, and tossed his head, then looked back at the Emperor, which translated from dog to, â€Å"Smells undead, boss.† The Emperor didn't understand what his companions were saying to him, but he suspected. He just wasn't ready to hear it. It had only been a few hours since the two police inspectors had dropped him off at the St. Francis Yacht Club, where the members allowed him and the men the use of the outer showers, and one of the members had purchased this lovely sandwich and presented it to them in thanks for their service to the City. Only an hour since he'd actually managed to straighten his neck out, after spending the better part of a night upside-down in a barrel. And only now, after a walk along the waterfront and a good meal, was the pain in his knees and shoulders starting to subside. He wasn't ready to go back into battle. â€Å"I am a selfish old man,† he said to the men. â€Å"A coward, worried for my own comfort, when my people are threatened. I am afraid.† But even as he said it, he was rising on his creaky knees, pushing himself up on the walking stick he'd retrieved only this morning from the Yacht Club, where he'd left it for safekeeping. The handle was carved out of ivory into the shape of a polar bear, and it fit the Emperor's hand like it had been made for him, although it had been a gift from a nice young man named Asher, who owned the secondhand store in North Beach, but that's another story. He wished there had been a blade in it, like the cane young Asher carried. Alas, he would have to face the black ship with only a stick, a sandwich, and his intrepid furry companions. He puffed himself blowfish style and headed up the dock, Bummer and Lazarus following along behind him, ears lowered, trailing a two-part growling harmony. A few people had gathered along the fence at the breakwater, and were pointing to the great ship. It wasn't so unusual that one might bring his day to a full halt, but if you were in the middle of a run or a brisk walk and needed a reason for a pause, the black ship would certainly fire the imagination long enough for you to catch your breath. Once at the ship, the Emperor was unsure of what to do. There was really no reason beyond Bummer's behavior to justify boarding her. And this ship was not of his city, therefore he could not claim dominion over it. He could hear the attitude jets firing just under the water, sporadically, to keep the ship in place. It was only a step, albeit a long step, and he'd be standing on the deck at her prow. Perhaps, having made the leap, a further course of action would occur to him. He backed up on the dock to take a run at it, or as much of a run as his advanced age and boiler-tank bulk would allow him, but as he announced â€Å"two† on his count-down to launch, a tanned face surrounded by a tangle of blond dreadlocks popped up over the rail of the cockpit and a young man called, â€Å"Irie, mi crusty uncle, bringing us the jammin' grinds, yeah? I and I tanks ye colossal, but please to be waiting on the dock.† And the Emperor stopped. Bummer and Lazarus even stopped growling and sat and turned their heads in the manner of a doggie listening for a â€Å"food† word amid a recitation of The Iliad. The young man vaulted over the black cowling of the cockpit and landed on the lower deck, his bare feet barely making a thump. He was lean and muscular, tanned a caf au lait color, with a tattoo of a humpback whale on his right pectoral muscle. He wore board shorts, despite the chill Bay air, a gold ring in his nose, and a series of them chasing down the rim of each ear. His dreadlocks fanned out around his head and shoulders as if they might be sun serpents looking for a way to escape. He leapt the gap to the dock, dazzled a blindingly white grin, and snatched the remains of the sandwich out of the Emperor's hand. â€Å"Ah, Jah's love on ye, Uncle, bringing de rippin' grinds to I'n'I after so long at sea.† Bummer barked and growled. The Rasta-blond had their sandwich. â€Å"Ah, me doggie, dreadies,† said the Rasta. â€Å"Jah's blessings on ye.† He knelt and scratched Bummer behind the ears. The stranger smelled of coconut oil, weed, and the undead, and Bummer was going to bite him as soon as he was finished having his ears scratched. â€Å"I'n'I be Pelekekona Keohokalole. Call him Kona, for short. Pirate Captain and lion of the briny science, don't cha know?† â€Å"I am the Emperor of San Francisco, protector of Alcatraz, Sausalito, and Treasure Island,† said the Emperor, who couldn't bring himself to be impolite to the smiling stranger, despite the black ship. â€Å"Welcome to my city.† â€Å"Ah, many tanks, Bruddah. Much respek on you, yeah? But you can't be going on that Raven ship, no. She kill you, brah. Automatic-kine kill. Dead, dead, too. Not walkin' around dead like them below.† â€Å"It goes without saying,† said the Emperor. FOO DOG The rats had been up and moving for about an hour when Foo heard the key in the front door. He put the soldering iron he was using in the wire holder and was turning toward the door when she was on him. He felt his vertebrae crack as her legs wrapped around him and he went over backward. Something caught the back of his head and something wet and coppery was shoved into his mouth: tongue. Panic vibrated through him and he felt he might suffocate, but then the smell: a mix of sandalwood perfume, clove cigarettes, and caff latte. Amid the panic, he'd sprung a first-rate erection, which he thrust against his attacker in defense. She pushed away and twisted up a handful of his shirt-front as he gasped for breath. â€Å"Rawr!† she rawred. â€Å"I missed you,† said Foo. â€Å"Your suffering has only begun,† Abby said. She wore a red tartan miniskirt over a black leotard with a low swooping neckline, a spiked dog collar, and her lime-green Converse Chuck Taylors, which she sometimes referred to as her â€Å"forbidden love Chucks† for no reason that he could ever figure out. â€Å"You're kind of crushing my ribs.† â€Å"That is because I am nosssssss-feratu and my powers are legion and stuff! Trs cool, huh?† Foo realized then that she had actually done it-she had somehow managed to change herself into a vampire. Her nose, eyebrow, and lip rings were gone, the piercings healed. The spider tattoo on her neck was gone as well. â€Å"How?† he asked, immediately trying to calculate her odds of survival. He'd talked to her yesterday on the phone and he was sure she would have mentioned the transition if she'd made it already, so she was in her first twenty-four hours. She might still be one of the ones who went insane and self-destructed, and even though Abby was short neither on insanity or self-destruction, it didn't mean he shouldn't try to save her. She kissed him again, hard, and as nice as it felt, he was hyper aware of whether she had broken the skin on his lips, or hers. So far, so good. She pushed him back, but then caught the back of his head again so it didn't bang the floor. She actually seemed a little more considerate now that she was dead, although not that much quieter. â€Å"Be patient, my love ninja, I will use you like the delicious manga-haired man-whore that you are, but first we have to try out my powers. Let some of the rats out of their cages and I will command them with my vampire psychic thoughts. I'll see if I can get them to clean the kitchen.† Okay, maybe they weren't out of the insanity woods quite yet, Foo thought. He said, â€Å"Yes, and then we'll see if we can get bluebirds to tie a ribbon in your hair.† â€Å"Snark not, Foo! You must obey me! I am the Countess Abigail Von Normal, queen bitch of the night, and you are my groveling sex slave!† â€Å"Are you a countess or a queen? You said both.† â€Å"Shut up, grommet, before I suck you dry!† â€Å"Okay,† said Foo. A wise man picks his battles. â€Å"Not that way, Foo. I mean that I will dominate you and you will do my bidding!† â€Å"Which will be different from any other day, how?† â€Å"Cease your banality and nerdardious questions, Foo. You are totally harshing my heady power over the night.† â€Å"It sounds like you bought a flashlight.† â€Å"That's it. I am going to beat your ninja ass.† She leapt off of him and made the â€Å"crouching tiger, rip your heart out† kung-fu posture that everyone who has seen a martial arts movie knows. â€Å"Wait! Wait! Wait!† â€Å"‘Kay,† said Abby, relaxing to the much less dangerous â€Å"slouching tiger chillin' with a bag of Cheetos† stance, which is known by all who have ever snacked. â€Å"You need to feed, get your strength up first,† said Foo. â€Å"You're a vampire noob. You need to grow into your powers.† â€Å"Ha,† said Abby. â€Å"You speak like a mortal who can't possibly grasp the depth of the dark gift. I jumped over a car on the way here. And I totally ran faster than the F train. My Chucks are still warm with residual speediness. Go ahead, feel them. Lick them, if you must. Even now I can see this aura thing around you, which is like bright pink, and doesn't go with your fly hair and manly bulge.† Foo looked down. Yes, his bulge was betraying him. He said, â€Å"You should take it slow, Abby.† â€Å"Oh yeah, watch this!† In an instant she was across the loft at the kitchen counter, and in another instant she had shot back across the living room and hit the plywood covering the windows. There was nothing Foo could do. She might have lifted the couch, leapt up fifteen feet, and grabbed the open ceiling beams, or even turned to mist, if she'd figured out how to do that, but what she had decided to do to show her powers was blast through the quarter-inch plywood and land catlike on the street below. And that would have been badass, to be sure. What Abby didn't know was that while she'd been gone, the window guy had called, and he wouldn't be able to come out to fix the windows for two weeks, so Foo had replaced the quarter-inch plywood with three-quarter-inch plywood, and instead of it just being tacked at the corners with small nails, he had screwed it down with stainless-steel screws, so as not to leave any vapor gaps for the rats to make an escape. Foo cringed and covered his eyes. She was fast, and preternaturally strong, but ninety pounds of vampire is still only ninety pounds. Did she hit the plywood Wile E. Coyote style, then slide down? Wah-wah-wah. Oh no. She hit the plywood, which bent precipitously, then splintered a bit before springing back and rocketing her all the way across the loft to the back wall, and there, she made a petite Goth girl impression in the sheet rock before falling forward, flat on her face, and saying, â€Å"Fucksocks,† into the rug. â€Å"You okay?† asked Foo. â€Å"Broken,† said Abby into the rug. He knelt over her, afraid to turn her head to see what damage she might have done. â€Å"What's broken?† â€Å"Everything.† â€Å"I'll get you some blood out of the fridge. You should heal pretty fast.† â€Å"‘Kay,† said Abby, still face-down, not having moved since the initial impact. â€Å"Don't look at me, okay?† â€Å"No way,† said Foo, already in the kitchen. He took one of the plastic pouches of blood from the fridge and worked it back and forth. â€Å"Just a second. Don't move, Abs, you might have broken bones.† He quick-stepped into the bedroom, grabbed a capped syringe off the cabinet where he kept the chemicals, flipped off the cap, and injected the sedative into the bag. â€Å"Here you go, baby. Just drink this and you'll be fine.† Ten minutes later he heard someone coming up the stairs and realized that Abby had forgotten to lock the door. Jared bounded into the loft, stopped when he saw Foo kneeling over the prostrate Abby, who had a sizable pool of blood around her head, and began screaming. â€Å"Stop screaming!† barked Foo. â€Å"It's not her blood.† Jared stopped screaming. â€Å"What did you do to her?† â€Å"Nothing, she's fine. Would you move the maze off the bed and help me get her in there?† Sometime during the debacle, Abby's skirt had flipped up and Jared pointed at an oblong lump that ran across her bottom and partly down her leg under the black leotard. â€Å"What's that? Did she poop herself?† â€Å"No,† said Foo, wishing he didn't know what it was, but he had already checked for himself. â€Å"It's a tail.† â€Å"Whoa. Weird.† â€Å"Yeah,† said Foo.