air bad safty essays

air bad safty essays According to statistics, motor vehicle accidents are the number one leading cause of unintentional injury-related deaths, making up close to 45% and more than quadrupling all other causes. Although these statistics can be overwhelming knowing that driving a motor vehicle on a daily basis comes with a lot of risk, an individuals chance of injury can be lowered by following basic rules of safety. The American Trauma Society believes that the injury rate could be reduced by 50% if people would simply apply existing information about prevention. Wearing a seat belt while riding in a motor vehicle is by far the easiest way to prevent injury and death, and should be done anyhow because it is a federal law to do so. In addition to seat belts, motor vehicles are equipped with air bags, an automatic form of protection designed to reduce the risk of injury. In the past decade, air bags have saved the lives of close to 3,000 people. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) con ducted a study of real-world motor vehicle crashes and were able to conclude that the combination of seat belts and air bags is 75% effective in preventing serious head injuries and 66% effective in preventing serious chest injuries. Unfortunately for about 100 people in the past decade, their lives were saved at the expense of suffering a less severe injury caused by the air bag itself. However, when proper air bag safety is applied in conjunction of wearing a seat belt properly, most injuries and deaths caused by motor vehicle crashes are minimized or even prevented all together. Air bags are designed specifically to cushion occupants as they move forward in a front-end crash, keeping the head, neck, and chest from hitting the steering wheel or dashboard. In order to perform well, air bags deploy quickly and forcefully, with the greatest force in the first 2-3 inches after releasing through the cover and beginning to inflate. Therefore, occupants who a...

To Curry Favor

To Curry Favor To Curry Favor To Curry Favor By Maeve Maddox A reader asks, Does the expression Curry Favour have anything to do with curry? Short answer: â€Å"No.† But the long answer is pretty cool. The gastronomical word curry derives from a Tamil word for sauce, whereas, the curry in the expression â€Å"to curry favour/favor† is a verb meaning â€Å"to comb a horse.† curry (noun): A preparation of meat, fish, fruit, or vegetables, cooked with a quantity of bruised spices and turmeric, and used as a relish or flavoring, especially for dishes composed of or served with rice. Hence, a curry = a dish or stew (of rice, meat, etc.) flavored with this preparation (or with curry-powder). curry (verb): to rub down a horse with a comb. The word favor in â€Å"to curry favor† is the product of folk etymology. The original expression was â€Å"to curry Favel,† in which Favel is the name of a fictional horse. Satirical allegories featuring anthropomorphized animals were popular in the Middle Ages. The name Favel came into English from the French tale Le Roman de Fauvel, in which a horse named Fauvel parodied the hypocritical behavior of the courtiers and ecclesiastical lords of the French royal court. The horse’s name derives from his color: he’s a â€Å"fallow horse.† As an adjective, fallow refers to a pale brownish or reddish yellow color. It’s probably cognate with Latin pallere, â€Å"to be pale.† Both English and German had an idiom that may have preceded the French tale: â€Å"to ride the fallow horse.† The expression meant, â€Å"to practice duplicity.† One academic theory as to why riding a fallow horse was associated with hypocrisy is that the expression may have originated with â€Å"the pale horse† in the Apocalypse (Book of Revelation). The rider of the pale horse, â€Å"one whose name is Death,† was thought by some commentators to represent the duplicitous Antichrist. When the word Favel became meaningless to English speakers, they substituted it with the familiar word favor. In sum, to curry chicken is to cook it with curry. To curry favor is to seek to gain an advantage by means of flattery and hypocrisy. Here are some recent examples of the use of curry in the nonfood sense: Leadership PACs generally attempt to curry favor with other lawmakers, hoping to win support for legislation or other political aspirations. If we change [the law], Mr. Lynn said, were going to see politicians running around seeking support of churches and hoping that they can curry favor with those churches by promising them money and favors. Not only did he flout those laws in order to curry favor with a prospective employer, but he also illegally disclosed the identity of a whistleblower, as the Complaint alleges. The lobbying campaign, reconstructed by  Newsweek  and The Daily Beast through interviews and documents, speaks volumes about the efforts of big business to curry favor, even among perceived enemies.   Curry may also be followed by approval and good will: Jorge is explaining to his men that Nikita Khrushchev has permitted a few chosen writers to travel abroad,  hoping to curry approval  from the worlds cultural elite. Kuwait used its resources to  curry good will  among Arab countries, especially Egypt. Want to improve your English in five minutes a day? Get a subscription and start receiving our writing tips and exercises daily! Keep learning! Browse the Expressions category, check our popular posts, or choose a related post below:Punctuating â€Å"So† at the Beginning of a SentenceAcronym vs. Initialism50 Plain-Language Substitutions for Wordy Phrases

London City Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

London City - Essay Example With such a prominent position in Western history, there are endless articulations of the city. This essay examines Ackroyd’s (2003) London: A Biography and Hunter’s (2006) Persons Unknown; / Life and Death in Hackney in terms of the way they present the city as reality, experience, and practice. Ackroyd’s (2003) London: A Biography presents an expensive exploration of the city of London. As this texts offers considerable insights into the nature and meanings of the city’s reality, it’s necessary to consider a number of particular themes. While traditional biographies oftentimes explicate specific historical events, or notable occurrences in a person’s life, Ackroyd’s account captures many of the instances of London life that would otherwise go undetected. This multidimensional approach can be witnessed in Ackroyd’s exploration of linguistic elements of speech in the city. He writes, â€Å"London speech has been variously descr ibed both as harsh and as soft, but the predominant characteristic is that of slackness† (Ackroyd 2003, p. 347). Ackroyd then extends this consideration to involve the means that London speech experienced broad patterns of change; for instance, during the fourteenth century the East Saxon voice of London was displaced by verbal elements from the Central and East Midlands. While Ackroyd’s account of this linguistic sentiment is undoubtedly biased by his personal opinion, it functions to contribute to the recognition of the city as a living entity that has evolved through major shifts in time. The presentation of this city in this context creates a reality of the London experience as something monumental. While Ackroyd’s consideration of London as a living entity is prominently demonstrated in the evolution of linguistic elements, there are other means that articulates these elements of reality, experience, and practice. As Ackroyd considers London as evolving a la nguage of slackness, he additionally considers the city as shaped and reflecting more naturalistic elements. Perhaps nowhere is this better witnessed than in his consideration of the ocean as shaping and informing London reality and experience. Ackroyd (2003, p.6) writes, â€Å"There was once a music-hall song entitled 'Why Can't We Have the Sea in London?', but the question is redundant; the site of the capital, fifty million years before, was covered by great waters. The waters have not wholly departed, even yet, and there is evidence of their life in the weathered stones of London.† While the specific historical consideration here is the actual linkage between London and its pre-historic past, more significantly Ackroyd is drawing a deep-rooted linkage to the city experience as emanating from its natural surroundings. In addition to the influence of the Ocean, Ackroyd considers elements such as birds, remnants of early civilizations, and the clay that can become mud. Ackro yd links these elements to literary references in Dickens and other historical perspectives. The cumulative impact of such notions of the city further enhances the theme of the city as a living entity and its monumentality. While Ackroyd’s text considered London as a living entity with a monumental reality, Hunter’s photography series captures Londoners’ lived experience. The contrast between these depictions depends on the portions of the articulations the reader or viewer chooses to emphasize. Hunter’s ‘Persons Unknown’ series present a minimalist portrait of individuals living in London. The main aesthetic quality of these images is precisely rooted in the isolation of the people and the quirky, yet somber ambience of their surroundings. For instance, one photograph ‘

Not Real Apology Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words

Not Real Apology - Essay Example Although both Lewinsky and Clinton initially both refuted the affair before a grand jury. They eventually admitted to the affair on national television. Clinton later on apologized to his family, the American people and to God for the affair. By conducting a rhetorical analysis of the speech that was given by President Clinton as he apologized, this paper will seek to argue that President Clinton did not want to make an apology to his family and country. An analysis of President Clinton’s speech in his apology reveals some elements that hint at the probability that President Clinton did not really want to apologize to his family and America. These elements include: In his speech, President Clinton alludes to the fact that he had just finished testifying before both the grand jury and the Office of Independent Counsel (OIC). He mentioned that although he had answered the questions in a truthful manner, he had answered a number of questions pertaining to his own private life; questions which he points out no American citizen would ever want to answer. This statement hints at the fact that President Clinton might have been forced to answer a number of questions which he was not quite comfortable with answering. The opening statement also suggests that it is quite possible that Clinton was using the speech not as an apology, but as a means to denounce the OIC and the Grand Jury for the fact that he had been forced to answer a number of private questions pertaining to himself. This position is further strengthened by the fact that in his next paragraph, Clinton does not apologize but instead argues that during a deposition that had been conducted in January, although he had not volunteered any information, his answers during the deposition had been legally accurate. Clinton does not apologize for his relationship with Miss Lewinsky but instead terms it as having been wrong. Immediately after terming the relationship as a personal

Comparing The Passionate Shepherd To His Love, Her Reply, and Cecil Day

Comparing The Passionate Shepherd To His Love,  Her Reply, and Cecil Day Lewis  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   When looking at these three poems,   it immediately becomes noticeable that all of them are very similar.   They often share the same lines,   almost word for word,   and furthermore follow a smilar tone,   as well as having an identical rhyming pattern.   „The passionate shepherd to his loveâ€Å" (poem number one)   is followed by an answer from his lover (poem number two),   and is then followed up by a further poem by Cecil Day Lewis,   which like in poem number one,   is an attempt at winning a ladies heart over,   and convincing her to devote all her love to him.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   The first poem seems to be an idyillic one,   and spends a lot of time going into the description of the surrounding nature.   Christopher Marlowe describes the countryside as being pure and beautiful,   and seems to be trying to suggest that his love is also something natural and pure. „That hills and valley,   dales and fields, Or woods or steepy mountain yieldsâ€Å" However it almost seems as though it is too good to be true,   as one knows that nature also conceals many dangers.   However he takes it further than that,   and seems to try and build up a kind of utopia for his love talking about treating her as well as he possibly can. „And I will make thee a bed of roses, And a thousand fragrant posiesâ€Å" However the poet is now attempting to build up such a perfect image of their possible life together,   that it becomes ever more unrealistic.   The answer from the lady whose heart he is trying to win over however,   takes a far more realistic approach,   and seems to try and bring him back down to earth.   She makes him aware of the fact that time brings change,   an... ...,   but in the closing two lines of the last stanza in poems in and three the poets once again use the same lines to express their feelings. „If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my Love.â€Å" To conclude the comparison of the three given poems it must be said that they are very similar,   and in certain aspects even identical.   The only exception to this seems to be the second poem,   which was a reply to the first.   Despite talking about the same topic,   and being directly linked to the first poem,   it is very different,   as it is not attempting to proclaim the poets love,   but is turning it down.   Equally the last poem differs slightly due to different circumstances.   Yet all of them are attempting to show the reader (or the person it is meant for),   what the poets feelings towards that person is,   by using very descriptive language.

Fool Chapter 13

THIRTEEN A NEST OF VILLAINS Edmund. Edmund would have to be dealt with, forces turned on him, and I fought the urge to find the black-hearted fiend and thread one of my throwing daggers between his ribs, but a plan was already in place, or one of sorts, and I still held the purse with the two remaining puffballs the witches had given me. I swallowed my anger and led Drool into the castle. â€Å"‘Lo, Pocket! Is that you, lad?† A Welsh accent. â€Å"Is the king with you?† I saw the top of a man's head sticking through the stocks set in the middle of the courtyard. His hair was dark and long and hung in his face. I approached and bent down to see who it was. â€Å"Kent? You've found yourself a cruel collar.† â€Å"Call me Caius,† said the old knight. â€Å"Is the king with you?† The poor fellow couldn't even look up. â€Å"Aye. On his way. The men are stabling their horses in the town. How came you to be in the stocks?† â€Å"I tangled with that whoreson Oswald, Goneril's steward. Cornwall judged me the offender and had me thrown in the stocks. I've been here since last evening.† â€Å"Drool, fetch some water for this good knight,† said I. The giant loped off to find a bucket. I walked around behind Kent, patted him lightly on his bottom. â€Å"You know, Kent, er – Caius, you are a very attractive man.† â€Å"You rascal, Pocket, I'll not be buggered by you.† I smacked his bottom again, dust rose from his trousers. â€Å"No, no, no, not me. Not my cup of tea. But Drool, now he'd shag the night if he wasn't afraid of the dark. And hung like an ox, that one is. I suspect you'll extrude stools untapered for a fortnight once Drool's laid the bugger to ya. Supper'll dump through you like a cherry pit out a church bell.† Drool was returning now carrying a wooden bucket and a dipper across the courtyard. â€Å"No! Stop!† shouted Kent. â€Å"Villainy! Violation! Stop these fiends!† Guards were looking down from the walls. I scooped a dipper of water from the bucket and threw it in Kent's face to calm him. He sputtered and struggled against the stocks. â€Å"Easy, good Kent, I was just having you on. We'll get you out of there as soon as the king arrives.† I held the dipper for the knight and he drank deeply. When he finished he gasped, â€Å"Christ's codpiece, Pocket, why'd you go on like that?† â€Å"Pure evil incarnate, I reckon.† â€Å"Well, stop it. It doesn't suit you.† â€Å"I'm working on the fit,† said I. Lear came through the gatehouse seconds later, flanked by Captain Curan and another older knight. â€Å"What's this?† asked the king. â€Å"My messenger in stocks! How came this to be? Who put you here, man?† â€Å"Your daughter and son-in-law, sire,† said Kent. â€Å"No. By Jupiter's beard, I say, no,† said Lear. â€Å"Aye, by St. Cardomon's scaly feet[35] I say, aye,† said Kent. â€Å"By the flapping foreskin of Freya, I say, bugger all!† said Jones. And they looked at the puppet, confident on his stick. â€Å"Thought we was swearing by whatever we could come up with,† said the puppet. â€Å"Do go on.† â€Å"I say no,† continued Lear. â€Å"‘Tis worse than murder, to treat a messenger of the king so. Where is my daughter?† The old king stormed through the inner gate, followed by Captain Curan and a dozen other knights from his train who had come into the castle. Drool sat down in the dirt, splay-legged, his face even with Kent's, and said, â€Å"So, how've you been?† â€Å"I'm in the stocks,† said Kent. â€Å"Locked like this overnight.† Drool nodded, starting a string of his namesake down his chin. â€Å"So, not so good, then?† â€Å"Nay, lad,† said Kent. â€Å"Better now that Pocket is here to save us, innit?† â€Å"Aye, I'm a rescue in progress. Didn't see any keys in there when you were getting the water?† â€Å"No. No keys,† said Drool. â€Å"They've a laundress with smashing knockers works by the well sometimes, but she won't have a laugh with you. I asked her. Five times.† â€Å"Drool, you mustn't just go asking that sort of thing without some prelude,† said I. â€Å"I said [please],† said Drool. â€Å"Well done, then, glad you've kept your manners in the face of so much villainy.† â€Å"Thank you, kind sir,† said Drool in Edmund the bastard's voice, pitch-perfect, dripping with evil. â€Å"That's un-bloody-settling,† said Kent. â€Å"Pocket, think you could see about liberating me? I lost feeling in my hands a good hour ago and it won't go well for holding a sword if they have to be cut off from gangrene.† â€Å"Aye, I'll see to it,† said I. â€Å"Let Regan vent some venom on her father, then I'll go see her for the key. She quite fancies me, you know?† â€Å"You've weed on yourself, ain't ya?† said Drool, back in his own voice, but with a bit of a Welsh accent, no doubt to comfort the disguised Kent. â€Å"Hours ago, and twice since,† said Kent. â€Å"I does that sometime in the night, when it's cold or it's too far to the privy.† â€Å"I'm just old and my bladder's shrunk to the size of a walnut.† â€Å"I've started a war,† said I, since we seemed to be sharing privacies. Kent struggled in the stocks to look at me. â€Å"What's this? From key – to wee – to, ‘I've started a bloody war,' without so much as a by-your-leave? I'm bewildered, Pocket.† â€Å"Aye, which concerns me, as you lot are my army.† â€Å"Smashing!† said Drool. The Earl of Gloucester came himself to release Kent. â€Å"I'm sorry, good man. You know I would not have allowed this, but once Cornwall has set his mind†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I heard you try,† said Kent. The two had been friends in a former life, but now, Kent, lean and dark-haired, looked younger and more than a measure dangerous, while the weeks had weighed like years on Gloucester. He was near feeble, and struggled with the heavy key to the stocks. I took it from him gently and worked the lock. â€Å"And you, fool, I'll not have you chiding Edmund for his bastardy.† â€Å"He's no longer a bastard, then? You married his mother. Congratulations, good earl.† â€Å"No, his mother is long dead. His legitimacy comes from the treachery of my other son, Edgar, who betrayed me.† â€Å"How so?† I asked, knowing full well how. â€Å"He planned to take my lands from me and hasten me to the grave.† This was not what I had written in the letter. Certainly, the lands would be forfeit, but there had been no mention of murder of the old man. This was Edmund's doing. â€Å"What have you done to anger our father?† said Drool, pitch-perfect in Edmund's voice. We all turned and stared at the great oaf, the wrong-sized voice coming from his cavernous mouth. â€Å"I have done nothing,† said Drool in another voice. â€Å"Edgar?† said Gloucester. Indeed, it was Edgar's voice. I tensed at what might come next. â€Å"Arm yourself and hide,† the bastard's voice said. â€Å"Father has it in his mind that you have committed some offense, and he has ordered guards to seize you.† â€Å"What?† said Gloucester. â€Å"What dodgy magic is this?† Then the bastard's voice again: â€Å"I have consulted the constellations, and they foretell of our father going mad and hunting you – â€Å" At that point I clamped my hand over Drool's mouth. â€Å"It's nothing, my lord,† said I. â€Å"The Natural is not right in his mind. Fever, methinks. He mimics voices but not intent. His thoughts are a jumble.† â€Å"But those were the very voices of my sons,† said Gloucester. â€Å"Aye, but only in sound. Only in sound. Like a jabbering bird is the great fool. If you have quarters where I might take him – â€Å" â€Å"And the king's most favored fool, and abused servant,† added Kent, rubbing at the rash on his wrists left from the stocks. Gloucester considered a moment. â€Å"You, good fellow, have been wrongly punished. Goneril's steward Oswald is less than honorable. And while I find it a mystery, Lear does love his Black Fool. There's an unused solar in the north tower. It leaks, but it will be out of the wind and close to your master, who will have quarters in the same wing.† â€Å"Aye, thank you, good lord,† said I. â€Å"The Natural needs tending. We'll wrap him in blankets then I'll run down to the chemist for a leech.† We hustled Drool into the tower and Kent closed the heavy door and bolted it. There was one cathedral window with cracked shutters and two arrow loops, all set in alcoves, with tapestries pulled aside and tied to allow in the little light. We could see our breath in the winter air. â€Å"Drop those tapestries,† said Kent. â€Å"Well, go grab some candles first,† said I. â€Å"It'll be dark as Nyx's[36] bunghole once we pull the tapestries.† Kent left the solar and returned a few minutes later with a heavy iron candelabra with three lit candles. â€Å"A chambermaid is bringing us a brazier of charcoal and some bread and ale,† said the knight. â€Å"Old Gloucester's a good sod.† â€Å"And survivor enough not to speak his mind to the king about his daughters,† said I. â€Å"I've learned some,† said Kent. â€Å"Aye.† I turned to the Natural, who was playing with the wax dripping off the thick candles. â€Å"Drool, what was it you were saying? That bit with Edmund and Edgar plotting.† â€Å"I don't know, Pocket. I just says it, I don't know what's said. But Lord Edmund beats me when I talk in his voice. I'm an insult to nature and should be punished, says he.† Kent shook his head like a great hound clearing his ears of water. â€Å"What sort of convoluted wickedness have you set in motion, Pocket?† â€Å"Me? This isn't my doing, this villainy is authored by that blackguard Edmund. But it will work for our plan. The conversations between Edgar and Edmund lie on the shelves of Drool's mind like forgotten volumes in a library, we need only prompt the git to open them. Now, to it. Drool, say the words of Edgar when Edmund advises him to hide.† And so we pried events out of Drool's memory using cues like a cat's paw,[37] and by the time we had warmed ourselves over the brazier and eaten our bread, we saw the pieces of Edmund's treachery played out as in the voices of the original players. â€Å"So Edmund wounded himself and claimed that Edgar did it,† said Kent. â€Å"Why didn't he simply slay his brother?† â€Å"He needs to assure his inheritance first, and a knife to the back would have been suspect,† said I. â€Å"Besides, Edgar is a formidable fighter – I don't think Edmund would face him.† â€Å"A traitor and a coward,† said Kent. â€Å"And those are his assets,† said I. â€Å"Or we shall use them thus.† I patted Drool's shoulder softly. â€Å"Good lad, excellent fool-craft. Now, I need you to see if you can say what I say in the voice of the bastard.† â€Å"Aye, Pocket, I'll give it a go.† I said, â€Å"Oh, my sweet lady Regan, thou art more fair than moonlight, more radiant than the sun, more glorious than all the stars. I must have you or I shall surely die.† In a wink Drool repeated my words back to me in the voice of Edmund of Gloucester, the intonation and desperation in the perfect key to unlock Regan's affections, or so I'd wager. â€Å"Howzat?† asked the git. â€Å"Excellent,† said I. â€Å"Uncanny,† said Kent. â€Å"How is it that Edmund let the Natural live? He must know he bears witness to his treachery.† â€Å"That is an excellent question. Let's go ask him, shall we?† It occurred to me, as we made our way to Edmund's quarters, that since I had seen the bastard, the power of my protection, being King Lear, had waned somewhat, while Edmund's influence, and therefore immunity, had expanded when he became heir to Gloucester. In short, the deterrents to keep the bastard from murdering me had all but evaporated. I had only Kent's sword and Edmund's fear of ghostly retribution to protect me. The witches' pouch of puffballs weighed heavily as a weapon, however. A squire showed me to an antechamber off Castle Gloucester's great hall. â€Å"His lordship will receive only you, fool,† said the squire. Kent looked ready to bully the boy but I held up a hand to stay him. â€Å"I'll see that the door is left unlatched, good Caius. If I should call, please enter and dispatch the bastard with lethal vigor.† I grinned at the spot-faced squire. â€Å"Unlikely,† said I. â€Å"Edmund holds me in very high esteem and I him. There will be little time between compliments to discuss business.† I breezed by the young knight and into the chamber where Edmund was alone, sitting at a writing desk. I said, â€Å"Thou scaly scalawag of a corpse-gorged carrion worm, cease your feast on the bodies of your betters and receive the Black Fool before vengeful spirits come to wrench the twisted soul from your body and drag it into the darkest depths of hell for your treachery.† â€Å"Oh, well spoken, fool,† said Edmund. â€Å"You think so?† â€Å"Oh yes, I'm cut to the quick. I may never recover.† â€Å"Completely impromptu,† said I. â€Å"With time and polish – well, I could go out and return with a keener edge on it.† â€Å"Perish the thought,† said the bastard. â€Å"Take a moment to catch your breath and revel in your rhetorical mastery and achievement.† He gestured toward a high-backed chair across from him. â€Å"Thank you, I will.† â€Å"Still tiny, though, I see,† said the bastard. â€Å"Well, yes, Nature being the recalcitrant twat that she is – â€Å" â€Å"And still weak, I presume?† â€Å"Not of will.† â€Å"Of course not, I referred simply to your willowy limbs.† â€Å"Oh yes, in that case, I'm a bit of a soggy kitten.† â€Å"Splendid. Here to be murdered then, are you?† â€Å"Not immediately. Uh, Edmund, if you don't mind my saying, you're being off-puttingly pleasant today.† â€Å"Thank you. I've adopted a strategy of pleasantness. It turns out that one can perpetrate all manner of heinous villainy under a cloak of courtesy and good cheer.† Edmund leaned over the desk now, as if to take me into his most intimate confidence. â€Å"It seems a man will forfeit all sensible self-interest if he finds you affable enough to share your company over a flagon of ale.† â€Å"So you're being pleasant?† â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"It's unseemly.† â€Å"Of course.† â€Å"So, you've received the dispatch from Goneril?† â€Å"Oswald gave it to me two days ago.† â€Å"And?† I asked. â€Å"Evidently the lady fancies me.† â€Å"And how do you feel about that?† â€Å"Well, who could blame her, really? Especially now that I'm both pleasant and handsome.† â€Å"I should have cut your throat when I had the chance,† said I. â€Å"Ah, well, water under the bridge, isn't it? Excellent plan, with the letter to discredit my brother Edgar, by the way. Went smashingly. Of course I embellished somewhat. Improvised, if you will.† â€Å"I know,† said I. â€Å"Implied patricide and the odd self-inflicted wound.† I nodded toward his bandaged sword arm. â€Å"Oh yes, the Natural talks to you, doesn't he?† â€Å"Curious, then. Why is that bloody great oaf still drawing breath, knowing what he does about your plans. Fear of ghosts, is it?† For the first time Edmund let his pleasant and insincere grin falter. â€Å"Well, there is that, but also, I quite enjoy beating him. And when I'm not beating him, having him around makes me feel more clever.† â€Å"You simple bastard, Drool makes anvils feel more clever. How bloody common of you.† That did it. Pretense of pleasantness fell when it came to questions of class, evidently. Edmund's hand dropped below the table and came up with a long fighting dagger. But alas, I was already in the process of swinging down hard with Jones's stick end and struck the bastard on his bandaged forearm. The blade went spinning in such a way that I was able to kick the hilt as it hit the floor and flip it up into my own waiting weapon hand. (To be fair, that is right or left, whether it was the juggling or the pickpocket training of Belette, I am agile with either hand.) I flipped the blade and held it ready for a throw. â€Å"Sit! You're exactly a half-turn from hell, Edmund. Do twitch. Please do.† He'd seen me perform with my knives at court and knew my skill. The bastard sat, cradling his hurt arm as he did so. Blood was seeping through the bandage. He spat at me, and missed. â€Å"I'll have you – â€Å" â€Å"Ah, ah, ah,† said I, brandishing the blade. â€Å"Pleasant.† Edmund growled, but stopped as Kent stormed into the room, knocking the door back on its hinges. His sword was drawn and two young squires were drawing theirs as they followed him. Kent turned and smashed the lead squire in the forehead with the hilt of his own weapon, knocking the boy backward off his feet, quite unconscious. Then Kent spun and swept the feet out from under the other with the flat of his sword and the lad landed on his back with an explosion of breath. The old knight drew back to thrust through the squire's heart. â€Å"Hold!† said I. â€Å"Don't kill him!† Kent held and looked up, assessing the situation for the first time. â€Å"I heard a blade clang. I thought the villain was murdering you.† â€Å"No. He gave me this lovely dragon-hilted dagger as a peace offering.† â€Å"That is not true,† said the bastard. â€Å"So,† said Kent, paying particular attention to my readied weapon, â€Å"you're murdering the bastard, then?† â€Å"Merely testing the weapon's balance, good knight.† â€Å"Oh, sorry.† â€Å"No worries. Thank you. I'll call you if I need you. Take that unconscious one with you, would you?† I looked at the other, who trembled on the floor. â€Å"Edmund, do instruct your knights to be pleasant toward my ruffian. He is a favorite of the king.† â€Å"Let him alone,† grumbled Edmund. Kent and the conscious squire dragged the other one out of the chamber and closed the door. â€Å"You're right, this being pleasant is the dog's bollocks, Edmund.† I flipped the dagger and caught it by the hilt. When Edmund made as if to move, I flipped it again and caught it by the blade. I raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. â€Å"So, you were saying about how well my plan had worked.† â€Å"Edgar is branded a traitor. Even now my father's knights hunt him. I will be lord of Gloucester.† â€Å"But, really, Edmund, is that enough?† â€Å"Exactly,† said the bastard. â€Å"Uh, exactly what?† Had he already set his sights on Albany's lands, not even having spoken with Goneril? Now I was doubly unsure of what to do. My own plan to pair the bastard with Goneril and undermine the kingdom was the only thing keeping me from sending the dagger to his throat, and when I thought of the lash marks on poor Drool's back my hand quivered, wanting to loose the knife to its mark. But what had he set his sights on? â€Å"The spoils of war can be as great as a kingdom,† said Edmund. â€Å"War?† How knew he of war? My war. â€Å"Aye, fool. War.† â€Å"Fuckstockings,† said I. I let the knife fly and ran out of the room, bells jingling. As I approached our tower, I heard what sounded like someone torturing an elk in a tempest. I thought that Edmund might have sent an assassin for Drool after all, so I came through the door low, with one of my daggers at the ready. Drool lay on his back on a blanket, a golden-haired woman with a white gown spread around her hips was riding him as if competing in the nitwit steeplechase. I'd seen her before, but never so solid. The two were wailing in ecstasy. â€Å"Drool, what are you doing?† â€Å"Pretty,† said Drool, a great joyous, goofy grin on him. â€Å"Aye, she's a vision, lad, but you're knobbing a ghost.† â€Å"No.† The dim giant paused in his upward thrusting, lifted her by her waist and looked closely at her as if he'd found a flea in his bed. â€Å"Ghost?† She nodded. Drool tossed her aside and with a long shuddering scream ran to the window and dove through, shattering the shutters as he went. The scream trailed off and ended with a splash. The ghost pulled her gown down, tossed her hair out of her face, and grinned. â€Å"Water in the moat,† she said. â€Å"He'll be fine. Guess I'll be going away half-cocked, though.† â€Å"Well, yes, but jolly good of you to take time from chain rattling and delivering portents of bloody doom to shag the beef-brained boy.† â€Å"Not up for a spirity tumble yourself, then?† She made as if to lift her gown above her hips again. â€Å"Piss off, wisp, I've got to go fish the git out of the moat. He can't swim.† â€Å"Not keen on flight, neither, evidently?† No time for this. I sheathed my dagger, wheeled on my heel and started out the door. â€Å"Not your war, fool,† said the ghost. I stopped. Drool was slow at most things, perhaps he would be so at drowning. â€Å"The bastard has his own war?† â€Å"Aye.† The ghost nodded, fading back to mist as she moved. â€Å"A fool's best plan Plays out to chance, But a bastard's hope, Arrives from France.† â€Å"Thou loquacious fog, thou nattering mist, thou serpent-tongued steam, for the love of truth, speak straight, and no sodding rhyme.† But in that moment she was gone. â€Å"Who are you?† I shouted to the empty tower.

Habits and Traits of Jumping Spiders

When you look at a jumping spider, it will look right back at you with large, forward-facing eyes. They can be found throughout the world in the Americas, Europe, Asia, Africa, and Australia. Salticidae is the largest family of spiders, with over 5,000 species described worldwide. While more prevalent in the tropics, jumping spiders are abundant nearly everywhere in their range. Jumping Spider Traits Jumping spiders are small and scrappy carnivores. They are often fuzzy and measure less than a half inch in body length. Salticids can run, climb, and (as the common name suggests) jump. Prior to jumping, the spider attaches a silk thread to the surface beneath it, so it can climb quickly back to its perch if needed. Salticids, like most other spiders, have eight eyes. Their unique eye arrangement makes it easy to differentiate jumping spiders from other species. A jumping spider has four eyes on its face, with an enormous pair in the center, giving it an almost alien appearance. The remaining, smaller eyes are located on the dorsal surface of the cephalothorax (a structure combining the fused head and thorax). The Himalayan jumping spider (Euophrys omnisuperstes) lives at high elevations in the Himalayan mountains. They feed on insects that are  carried up the  mountain on the wind from lower elevations. The species name, omnisuperstes, means highest of all, so its not that surprising that specimens of this remarkable species have been found on Mount Everest at elevations of 22,000 feet. Fast facts: Jumping Spider Classification Kingdom: AnimaliaPhylum: ArthropodaClass: ArachnidaOrder: AraneaeFamily: Salticidae Diet and Life Cycle Jumping spiders hunt and feed on small insects. All are carnivorous, but a few species also eat pollen and nectar. Female jumping spiders build a silk case around their eggs and often stand guard over them until they hatch. (Youve probably seen these spiders with their eggs in corners of exterior windows or door frames.) Young jumping spiders emerge from the egg sac looking like miniature versions of their parents. They molt and grow into adulthood. Special Behaviors and Defenses As the common name suggests, a jumping spider can jump quite far, achieving distances more than 50 times its body length. If you examine their legs, however, youll notice that they are not strong or muscular in appearance. Rather than relying on muscle strength to leap, salticids are able to quickly increase the blood pressure in their legs, which causes the legs to extend and propel their bodies through the air. The size and shape of jumping spiders eyes give afford them excellent vision. Salticids use their enhanced sight to their advantage as hunters, employing their high-resolution vision to locate potential prey. Some jumping spiders mimic other insects such as ants. Others are able to camouflage themselves to blend into their surroundings, helping them sneak up on prey. Insects and spiders with heightened visual acuity often engage in elaborate courtship dances to attract mates, and jumping spiders are no exception to this rule. Sources Borror and DeLongs Introduction to the Study of Insects,  7th edition, by Charles A. Triplehorn and Norman F. Johnson.The Insects: An Outline of Entomology, 3rd edition, by  P. J. Gullan and P. S. Cranston.  Family Salticidae - Jumping Spiders, Bugguide.net. Accessed online February 29, 2016.Salticidae, Tree of Life Web Project, Wayne Maddison. Accessed online February 29, 2016.Tales of the Himalaya: Adventures of a Naturalist, by Lawrence W. Swan.