Unethical Practices free essay sample

Mitsubishi Motors Corporation currently showcases more than 16 sorts of vehicles in the Philippines, following 45 years of activity. Vehicles extend from the effectively unmistakable Lancer, Galant, and Eclipse traveler vehicles, to light business vehicles of various pictures and purposes: the omnipresent PaJero, and the dynamic Strada, Montero Sport, Grandis and Fuzion. Additionally remembered for the line-up are Adventure, L300 Versa-Van, and business vans. Moving the business are the FK/FM trucks and the Rosa transports. Shipped conveniently etween the light obligation pick-ups and substantial haulers are the Canter light truck and Rosa scaled down transport. Today, Mitsubishi, headed in the Philippines by Mr. Masahiko Ueki, produces a large number of vehicles a year in a 190,294 sq. m. plant along Ortigas Avenue Ext, Cainta Rizal. Mr. Masahiko Ueki is driving the organization to concentrate on four significant concerns: Manufacturing, Marketing, Labor/Management Corporation and Community Involvement. In assembling, creation programs are pointed towards item quality. Quality Circles give the catalyst to ceaseless Improvement of assembling forms prompting improved quality and cost-adequacy. We will compose a custom exposition test on Exploitative Practices or then again any comparable point explicitly for you Don't WasteYour Time Recruit WRITER Just 13.90/page With Total Customer Satisfaction staying to be the basic duty, the significance of conveying items and administrations that are adjust to the mind boggling and changing necessities of the clients in the Philippine market setting stays to be the trusted of promoting exercises and endeavors. All things considered following 45 years of presence in the countrys car industry, Mitsubishi Motors keeps on offering quality items and administrations to the Philippine market.

Assignment #1 Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words

#1 - Assignment Example Likewise, the endeavors put by the administration during the period additionally caused residents to acknowledge organizations as a rule. The article is of the presumption that since the fear based oppressor assault the general public view of the groups of friends and organizations has never changed.<br/> In the article The Strange Disappearance of Civil America, the American populace is made with a picture that portrays its obliviousness on social connections. Not quite the same as antiquated American social setting, the cutting edge society don't esteem the noteworthiness of making social connections. Putman recognizes this pattern to various elements that wreck people from taking an interest in social exercises (2). For example, the creator refers to the expanded job of ladies, financial imperatives, family associates and innovatively based interruptions. As indicated by Putman the pattern is growing (10). Youngsters are increasingly disposed to TV and other innovative advances in this way overlooking the significance of groups of friends. With society inclinations changing to suit progressively close to home needs, the conventional social setting could never be grasped by the cutting edge

Learn more about MPA-DP on Facebook Live COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - SIPA Admissions Blog

Learn more about MPA-DP on Facebook Live COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - SIPA Admissions Blog Today I hosted a special Facebook Live session with MPA in Development Practice Director Glenn Denning. Professor Denning teaches the Global Food Systems, a required DP course, and has been with DP since its inception in 2009. For those of you who have been following me on the blog and social media, you know this isnt the first time the Admissions Office has used Facebook Live, but were still testing out the waters. Glenn was kind enough to test out the platform with me so we can give applicants like you the opportunity to connect with us on another platform. MPA-DP has the same deadlines as the MIA and MPA programs, but its essay prompts and characteristics of the students are a little bit different. To learn what I mean by that make sure you watch the recording of the session below (or click here). If you have any questions about the program, feel free to email the program directly at sipa_mpadp@sipa.columbia.edu. As always, send admissions questions my way to sipa_admission@sipa.columbia.edu. Oh, and if youd like to  get reminders about future sessions, check out the Recruitment Calendar. (Ive got lots of great stuff in the pipeline!)

Hypnotherapy Can it Stop Cigarette Addiction Essay

Hypnotherapy: Can it Stop Cigarette Addiction? â€Å"And now, when I snap my fingers, you will never smoke again! †Could there be something more useful to hypnosis than just magical entertainment? Are there applications for hypnosis in the medical realm? Hypnotherapists now advocate hypnosis as a near panacea, claiming it can help one lose weight, stop smoking, improve memory, improve athletic ability, reduce stress, build self-confidence, overcome phobias, find lost articles, and even manage chronic pain (http://sageways. com/sageline/0196/hah. html). It has been estimated that some 390,000 Americans die prematurely from cigarette smoking each year. Smoking has been linked as a major risk factor to lung cancer (and many other forms†¦show more content†¦This is something to consider before spending up to $1800 on a session of treatment. What do Hypnotherapists Say about Hypnosis and How Might it Help â€Å"Kick† the Habit? Hypnotherapist T. Joyce Caldcleugh explains that hypnosis is a â€Å"naturally occurring state† characterized by heightened â€Å"awareness and alertness† during which the subconscious mind can be accessed and focused on a particular goal (http://www. sageways. com/sageline/0169/hah. html). In their advertisement of their product, hypnotherapists are vague (almost secretive) about their methods. However, in explaining their form of alternative therapy, hypnotherapists generally center around a common rationale: hypnosis releases the powers of the subconscious mind, which entails 90% of our mental power and â€Å"contains all our emotions, memories, habits, belief systems, and controls all of our integral organs† (http://www. rogueweb. com/hypnosis/articles. html). Through hypnosis, this large amount of mental power can be unleashed as will power, which is normally held captive in the less powerful conscious mind. Thus, the ingrained desire and habit of smoking i s replaced by the will power to quit. It is for this reason that hypnotherapists boast of their treatment being a â€Å"natural† therapy in that it allows one to use his or her â€Å"natural abilities toShow MoreRelatedEssay about Sci/163 Chronic Diseases653 Words   |  3 Pages(Doherty, 2002). To prevent COPD, one must quit smoking or drastically cut back their cigarette use. Those who have smoked and quit may still never gain back their healthy lung function once the disease has set in. Yet it is possible after one stops smoking to see an improvement and can slow the rates of decline. To aid in the prevention of COPD, a healthy campaign to help persuade people not to start a cigarette addiction would be best. For those, who are addicted, helpful resources to encourage quittingRead MoreEffects Of Smoking On The United Kingdom1132 Words   |  5 PagesIt is one of the causes of people in the country falling sick apart from poor nutrition, lack of physical activity, excessive alcohol intake. In United States annually around 443000 premature deaths occur due to exposure to tobacco and cigarette smoking. In 2013, a large study of women in United Kingdom has shown that women in their 50s, 60s and 70s who are addicted to smoking, two out of three die only because of smoking. According to researchers, smokers lose 10 yearsRead MoreObesity : The Best Of Your State1281 Words   |  6 Pagesthe many causes, in any country, of people falling sick apart from poor nutrition, lack of physical activity, and excessive alcohol intake. In United States around 443000 premature deaths occur annually due to exposure to tobacco and cigarette smoking. In 2013, a large study of women in United Kingdom has shown that two out of three die only because of smoking who are in their 50s, 60s and 70s and are addicted to it. According to researchers, smokers lose 10 years of their lifespan onlyRead MoreCase Study- Quit Smoking Essay2215 Words   |  9 Pagesyears old male nurse working on a children’s ward as a temporary bank nurse at the local hospital. He heard of me through a member of our local community whereupon he phoned me towards the end of April 2012, with a long history of smoking up to 40 cigarettes daily, wishing for help to Quit Smoking due to the total ban on Smoking introduced at the hospital and other issues relating to smoking. I could not offer him any help at the time but provided him with contact details of other therapists. Read MoreSelf Defeating Behaviour2453 Words   |  10 Pagesand evaluating two approaches of the treatment of self-defeating behaviour. INTRODUCTION Self-defeating behaviour is a behaviour used to cope with a traumatic situation. It is then repeatedly used but often has a damaging effect on the person. This can be identified as being deliberate or intentional behaviour that has a clear, definite or probably negative effect. People are more likely to have a self-defeating or destructive manner when either there are threats made to their egos or when they have

Obesity Is A Major Public Health Issue - 917 Words

Obesity in the United States is a major public health issue. According to prevalence data from the National Health and Nutrition Examination Study (NHANES) 2011-2012, 34% of US adults are overweight (BMI 25-29.9), 35.1% obese (BMI 30-39.9) and 6.4% morbidly obese (BMI ≠¥40). NHANES does not include incarcerated individuals in the surveys. The 2011-2012 United States Bureau of Justice, National Inmate Survey, indicated the prevalence of overweight, obesity and morbid obesity for state and federal inmates was 45.7%, 25.5% and 2.4% respectively. Although males in prisons and jails were more likely than females to be overweight, females were more likely to be obese or morbidly obese. The health risks for individuals who are overweight or obese are clear. If obesity is not managed, chronic health conditions will develop and this will impact public health resources and communities when offenders are released. They are at increased risk for developing type 2 diabetes, hypertensio n, cardiovascular disease, cancer and mental health problems. Both state and federal inmates are known to have the following characteristics: low socioeconomic status, limited access to healthcare prior to incarceration, low health literacy, substance abuse, mental health disorders and increased probability of having chronic and infectious diseases. These characteristics make inmates a vulnerable population even prior to incarceration. Recent studies of weight change during incarceration haveShow MoreRelatedThe Battle Against Obesity Is A Health Issue Of Great Importance1237 Words   |  5 PagesFor community and public health nurses alike, the battle against obesity is a health issue of great importance. Obesity is shown to be directly responsible for many of the negative health issues we see today. It contributes to higher risk of having chronic disease and poor health (which will be explained). Obesity is a nationwide epidemic stretching across the whole human development spectrum: from childhood obesity, adolescent obesity and adult ob esity. The prevalence of children being overweightRead MoreObesity : Reducing The Obesity1237 Words   |  5 PagesReducing Obesity in Canada Research Question: Why is Obesity becoming a major issue in Canadian lives? What are the leading causes of Obesity in Canada and how can we decrease these issues resulting in obesity? (Political Perspective) In what ways as a society can we prevent/reduce the high rates of obesity, considering the high demand for junk food/processed foods. Which efforts will be effective for us Canadians? (Objective and Results) Research Notes URL Although genetics play a major roleRead MoreEssay on Public School Health Care558 Words   |  3 PagesThe public school system offers several different types of health care services to students concerning issues that are a problem in 21st century schools. 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Bag of Bones CHAPTER THIRTEEN Free Essays

string(41) " there was someone standing in the hall\." I caught the measles when I was eight, and I was very ill. ‘I thought you were going to die,’ my father told me once, and he was not a man given to exaggeration. He told me about how he and my mother had dunked me in a tub of cold water one night, both of them at least half-convinced the shock of it would stop my heart, but both of them completely convinced that I’d burn up before their eyes if they didn’t do something. We will write a custom essay sample on Bag of Bones CHAPTER THIRTEEN or any similar topic only for you Order Now I had begun to speak in a loud, monotonously discursive voice about the bright figures I saw in the room angels come to bear me away, my terrified mother was sure and the last time my father took my temperature before the cold plunge, he said that the mercury on the old Johnson Johnson rectal thermometer had stood at a hundred and six degrees. After that, he said, he didn’t dare take it anymore. I don’t remember any bright figures, but I remember a strange period of time that was like being in a funhouse corridor where several different movies were showing at once. The world grew elastic, bulging in places where it had never bulged before, wavering in places where it had always been solid. People most of them seeming impossibly talldarted in and out of my room on scissoring, cartoonish legs. Their words all came out booming, with instant echoes. Someone shook a pair of baby-shoes in my face. I seem to remember my brother, Siddy, sticking his hand into his shirt and making repeated arm-fart noises. Continuity broke down. Everything came in segments, weird wieners on a poison string. In the years between then and the summer I returned to Sara Laughs, I had the usual sicknesses, infections, and insults to the body, but never anything like that feverish interlude when I was eight. I never expected to believing, I suppose, that such experiences are unique to children, people with malaria, or maybe those suffering catastrophic mental breakdowns. But on the night of July seventh and the morning of July eighth, I lived through a period of time remarkably like that childhood delirium. Dreaming, waking, moving they were all one. I’ll tell you as best I can, but nothing I say can convey the strangeness of that experience. It was as if I had found a secret passage hidden just beyond the wall of the world and went crawling along it. First there was music. Not Dixieland, because there were no horns, but like Dixieland. A primitive, reeling kind of bebop. Three or four acoustic guitars, a harmonica, a stand-up bass (or maybe a pair). Behind all of this was a hard, happy drumming that didn’t sound as if it was coming from a real drum; it sounded as if someone with a lot of percussive talent was whopping on a bunch of boxes. Then a woman’s voice joined in a contralto voice, not quite mannish, roughing over the high notes. It was laughing and urgent and ominous all at the same time, and I knew at once that I was hearing Sara Tidwell, who had never cut a record in her life. I was hearing Sara Laughs, and man, she was rocking. ‘You know we’re going back to MANderley, We’re gonna dance on the SANderley, I’m gonna sing with the BANderley, We gonna ball all we CANderley Ball me, baby, yeah!’ The basses yes, there were two broke out in a barnyard shuffle like the break in Elvis’s version of ‘Baby Let’s Play House,’ and then there was a guitar solo: Son Tidwell playing that chickenscratch thing. Lights gleamed in the dark, and I thought of a song from the fifties Claudine Clark singing ‘Party Lights.’ And here they were, Japanese lanterns hung from the trees above the path of railroad-tie steps leading from the house to the water. Party lights casting mystic circles of radiance in the dark: red blue and green. Behind me, Sara was singing the bridge to her Manderley song mama likes it nasty, mama likes it strong, mama likes to party all night long but it was fading. Sara and the Red-Top Boys had set up their bandstand in the driveway by the sound, about where George Footman had parked when he came to serve me with Max Devore’s subpoena. I was descending toward the lake through circles of radiance, past party lights surrounded by soft-winged moths. One had found its way inside a lamp and it cast a monstrous, batlike shadow against the ribbed paper. The flower-boxes Jo had put beside the steps were full of night-blooming roses. In the light of the Japanese lanterns they looked blue. Now the band was only a faint murmur; I could hear Sara shouting out the lyric, laughing her way through it as though it were the funniest thing she’d ever heard, all that Manderley-sanderley-canderley stuff, but I could no longer make out the individual words. Much clearer was the lap of the lake against the rocks at the foot of the steps, the hollow clunk of the cannisters under the swimming float, and the cry of a loon drifting out of the darkness. Someone was standing on The Street to my right, at the edge of the lake. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see the brown sportcoat and the tee-shirt he was wearing beneath it. The lapels cut off some of the letters of the message, so it looked like this: ORMA ER OUN I knew what it said anyway in dreams you almost always know, don’t you? NORMAL SPERM COUNT, a Village Cafe yuck-it-up special if ever there was one. I was in the north bedroom dreaming all this, and here I woke up enough to know I was dreaming . . . except it was like waking into another dream, because Bunter’s bell was ringing madly and there was someone standing in the hall. You read "Bag of Bones CHAPTER THIRTEEN" in category "Essay examples" Mr. Normal Sperm Count? No, not him. The shadow-shape falling on the door wasn’t quite human. It was slumped, the arms indistinct. I sat up into the silver shaking of the bell, clutching a loose puddle of sheet against my naked waist, sure it was the shroud-thing out there the shroud-thing had come out of its grave to get me. ‘Please don’t,’ I said in a dry and trembling voice. ‘Please don’t, please.’ The shadow on the door raised its arms. ‘It ain’t nuthin but a barn-dance sugar!’ Sara Tidwell’s laughing, furious voice sang. ‘It ain’t nuthin but a round-and-round!’ I lay back down and pulled the sheet over my face in a childish act of denial . . . and there I stood on our little lick of beach, wearing just my undershorts. My feet were ankle-deep in the water. It was warm the way the lake gets by midsummer. My dim shadow was cast two ways, in one direction by the scantling moon which rode low above the water, in another by the Japanese lantern with the moth caught inside it. The man who’d been standing on the path was gone but he had left a plastic owl to mark his place. It stared at me with frozen, gold-ringed eyes. ‘Hey Irish!’ I looked out at the swimming float. Jo stood there. She must have just climbed out of the water, because she was still dripping and her hair was plastered against her cheeks. She was wearing the two-piece swimsuit from the photo I’d found, gray with red piping. ‘It’s been a long time, Irish what do you say?’ ‘Say about what?’ I called back, although I knew. ‘About this!’ She put her hands over her breasts and squeezed. Water ran out between her fingers and trickled across her knuckles. ‘Come on, Irish,’ she said from beside and above me, ‘come on, you bastard, let’s go.’ I felt her strip down the sheet, pulling it easily out of my sleep-numbed fingers. I shut my eyes, but she took my hand and placed it between her legs. As I found that velvety seam and began to stroke it open, she began to rub the back of my neck with her fingers. ‘You’re not Jo,’ I said. ‘Who are you?’ But no one was there to answer. I was in the woods. It was dark, and on the lake the loons were crying. I was walking the path to Jo’s studio. It wasn’t a dream; I could feel the cool air against my skin and the occasional bite of a rock into my bare sole or heel. A mosquito buzzed around my ear and I waved it away. I was wearing Jockey shorts, and at every step they pulled against a huge and throbbing erection. ‘What the hell is this?’ I asked as Jo’s little barnboard studio loomed in the dark. I looked behind me and saw Sara on her hill, not the woman but the house, a long lodge jutting toward the nightbound lake. ‘What’s happening to me?’ ‘Everything’s all right, Mike,’ Jo said. She was standing on the float, watching as I swam toward her. She put her hands behind her neck like a calendar model, lifting her breasts more fully into the damp halter. As in the photo, I could see her nipples poking out the cloth. I was swimming in my underpants, and with the same huge erection. ‘Everything’s all right, Mike,’ Mattie said in the north bedroom, and I opened my eyes. She was sitting beside me on the bed, smooth and naked in the weak glow of the nightlight. Her hair was down, hanging to her shoulders. Her breasts were tiny, the size of teacups, but the nipples were large and distended. Between her legs, where my hand still lingered, was a powderpuff of blonde hair, smooth as down. Her body was wrapped in shadows like moth-wings, like rose-petals. There was something desperately attractive about her as she sat there she was like the prize you know you’ll never win at the carny shooting gallery or the county fair ringtoss. The one they keep on the top shelf. She reached under the sheet and folded her fingers over the stretched material of my undershorts. Everything’s all right, it ain’t nuthin but a round-and-round, said the UFO voice as I climbed the steps to my wife’s studio. I stooped, fished for the key from beneath the mat, and took it out. I climbed the ladder to the float, wet and dripping, preceded by my engorged sex is there anything, I wonder, so unintentionally comic as a sexually aroused man? Jo stood on the boards in her wet bathing suit. I pulled Mattie into bed with me. I opened the door to Jo’s studio. All of these things happened at the same time, weaving in and out of each other like strands of some exotic rope or belt. The thing with Jo felt the most like a dream, the thing in the studio, me crossing the floor and looking down at my old green IBM, the least. Mattie in the north bedroom was somewhere in between. On the float Jo said, ‘Do what you want.’ In the north bedroom Mattie said, ‘Do what you want.’ In the studio, no one had to tell me anything. In there I knew exactly what I wanted. On the float I bent my head and put my mouth on one of Jo’s breasts and sucked the cloth-covered nipple into my mouth. I tasted damp fabric and dank lake. She reached for me where I stuck out and I slapped her hand away. If she touched me I would come at once. I sucked, drinking back trickles of cotton-water, groping with my own hands, first caressing her ass and then yanking down the bottom half of her suit. I got it off her and she dropped to her knees. I did too, finally getting rid of my wet, clinging underpants and tossing them on top of her bikini panty. We faced each other that way, me naked, her almost. ‘Who was the guy at the game?’ I panted. ‘Who was he, Jo?’ ‘No one in particular, Irish. Just another bag of bones.’ She laughed, then leaned back on her haunches and stared at me. Her navel was a tiny black cup. There was something queerly, attractively snakelike in her posture. ‘Everything down there is death,’ she said, and pressed her cold palms and white, pruney fingers to my cheeks. She turned my head and then bent it so I was looking into the lake. Under the water I saw decomposing bodies slipping by, pulled by some deep current. Their wet eyes stared. Their fish-nibbled noses gaped. Their tongues lolled between white lips like tendrils of waterweed. Some of the dead trailed pallid balloons of jellyfish guts; some were little more than bone. Yet not even the sight of this floating charnel parade could divert me from what I wanted. I shrugged my head free of her hands, pushed her down on the boards, and finally cooled what was so hard and contentious, sinking it deep. Her moon-silvered eyes stared up at me, through me, and I saw that one pupil was larger than the other. That was how her eyes had looked on the TV monitor when I had identified her in the Derry County Morgue. She was dead. My wife was dead and I was fucking her corpse. Nor could even that realization stop me. ‘Who was he?’ I cried at her, covering her cold flesh as it lay on the wet boards. ‘Who was he, Jo, for Christ’s sake tell me who he was!’ In the north bedroom I pulled Mattie on top of me, relishing the feel of those small breasts against my chest and the length of her entwining legs. Then I rolled her over on the far side of the bed. I felt her hand reaching for me, and slapped it away if she touched me where she meant to touch me, I would come in an instant. ‘Spread your legs, hurry,’ I said, and she did. I closed my eyes, shutting out all other sensory input in favor of this. I pressed forward, then stopped. I made one little adjustment, pushing at my engorged penis with the side of my hand, then rolled my hips and slipped into her like a finger in a silk-lined glove. She looked up at me, wide-eyed, then put a hand on my cheek and turned my head. ‘Everything out there is death,’ she said, as if only explaining the obvious. In the window I saw Fifth Avenue between Fiftieth and Sixtieth all those trendy shops, Bijan and Bally, Tiffany and Bergdorf’s and Steuben Glass. And here came H arold Oblowski, northbound and swinging his pigskin briefcase (the one Jo and I had given him for Christmas the year before she died). Beside him, carrying a Barnes and Noble bag by the handles, was the bountiful, beauteous Nola, his secretary. Except her bounty was gone. This was a grinning, yellow-jawed skeleton in a Donna Karan suit and alligator pumps; scrawny, beringed bones instead of fingers gripped the bag-handles. Harold’s teeth jutted in his usual agent’s grin, now extended to the point of obscenity. His favorite suit, the doublebreasted charcoal-gray from Paul Stuart, flapped on him like a sail in a fresh breeze. All around them, on both sides of the street, walked the living dead mommy mummies leading baby corpses by the hands or wheeling them in expensive prams, zombie doormen, reanimated skateboarders. Here a tall black man with a last few strips of flesh hanging from his face like cured deer-hide walked his skeletal Alsatian. The cab-drivers were rottin g to raga music. The faces looking down from the passing buses were skulls, each wearing its own version of Harold’s grin Hey, how are ya, how’s the wife, how’s the kids, writing any good books lately? The peanut vendors were putrefying. Yet none of it could quench me. I was on fire. I slipped my hands under her buttocks, lifting her, biting at the sheet (the pattern, I saw with no surprise, was blue roses) until I pulled it free of the mattress to keep from biting her on the neck, the shoulder, the breasts, anywhere my teeth could reach. ‘Tell me who he was!’ I shouted at her. ‘You know, I know you do!’ My voice was so muffled by my mouthful of bed-linen that I doubted if anyone but me could have understood it. ‘Tell me, you bitch!’ On the path between Jo’s studio and the house I stood in the dark with the typewriter in my arms and that dream-spanning erection quivering below its metal bulk all that ready and nothing willing. Except maybe for the night breeze. Then I became aware I was no longer alone. The shroud-thing was behind me, called like the moths to the party lights. It laughed-a brazen, smoke-broken laugh that could belong to only one woman. I didn’t see the hand that reached around my hip to grip me the typewriter was in the way but I didn’t need to see it to know its color was brown. It squeezed, slowly tightening, the fingers wriggling. ‘What do you want to know, sugar?’ she asked from behind me. Still laughing. Still teasing. ‘Do you really want to know at all? Do you want to know or do you want to feel?’ ‘Oh, you’re killing me!’ I cried. The typewriter thirty or so pounds of IBM Selectric was shaking back and forth in my arms. I could feel my muscles twanging like guitar strings. ‘Do you want to know who he was, sugar? That nasty man?’ ‘Just do me, you bitch!’ I screamed. She laughed again that harsh laughter that was almost like a cough and squeezed me where the squeezing was best. ‘You hold still, now,’ she said. ‘You hold still, pretty boy, ‘less you want me to take fright and yank this thing of yours right out by the . . . ‘ I lost the rest as the whole world exploded in an orgasm so deep and strong that I thought it would simply tear me apart. I snapped my head back like a man being hung and ejaculated looking up at the stars. I screamed I had to and on the lake, two loons screamed back. At the same time I was on the float. Jo was gone, but I could faintly hear the sound of the band -Sara and Sonny and the Red-Top Boys tearing through ‘Black Mountain Rag.’ I sat up, dazed and spent, fucked hollow. I couldn’t see the path leading up to the house, but I could discern its switchback course by the Japanese lanterns. My underpants lay beside me in a little wet heap. I picked them up and started to put them on, only because I didn’t want to swim back to shore with them in my hand. I stopped with them stretched between my knees, looking at my fingers. They were slimed with decaying flesh. Puffing out from beneath several of the nails were clumps of torn-out hair. Corpsehair. ‘Oh Jesus,’ I moaned. The strength went out of me. I flopped into wetness. I was in the north-wing bedroom. What I had landed in was hot, and at first I thought it was come. The dim glow of the nightlight showed darker stuff, however. Mattie was gone and the bed was full of blood. Lying in the middle of that soaking pool was something I at first glance took to be a clump of flesh or a piece of organ. I looked more closely and saw it was a stuffed animal, a black-furred object matted red with blood. I lay on my side looking at it, wanting to bolt out of the bed and flee from the room but unable to do it. My muscles were in a dead swoon. Who had I really been having sex with in this bed? And what had I done to her? In God’s name, what? ‘I don’t believe these lies,’ I heard myself say, and as though it were an incantation, I was slapped back together. That isn’t exactly what happened, bur it’s the only way of saying that seems to come close to whatever did. There were three of me one on the float, one in the north bedroom, one on the path and each one felt that hard slap, as if the wind had grown a fist. There was rushing blackness, and in it the steady silver shaking of Bunter’s bell. Then it faded, and I faded with it. For a little while I was nowhere at all. I came back to the casual chatter of birds on summer vacation and to that peculiar red darkness that means the sun is shining through your closed eyelids. My neck was stiff, my head was canted at a weird angle, my legs were folded awkwardly beneath me, and I was hot. I lifted my head with a wince, knowing even as I opened my eyes that I was no longer in bed, no longer on the swimming float, no longer on the path between the house and the studio. It was floorboards under me, hard and uncompromising. The light was dazzling. I squinched my eyes closed again and groaned like a man with a hangover. I eased them back open behind my cupped hands, gave them time to adjust, then cautiously uncovered them, sat all the way up, and looked around. I was in the upstairs hall, lying under the broken air conditioner. Mrs. Meserve’s note still hung from it. Sitting outside my office door was the green IBM with a piece of paper rolled into it. I looked down at my feet and saw that they were dirty. Pine needles were stuck to my soles, and one toe was scratched. I got up, staggered a little (my right leg had gone to sleep), then braced a hand against the wall and stood steady. I looked down at myself. I was wearing the Jockeys I’d gone to bed in, and I didn’t look as if I’d had an accident in them. I pulled out the waistband and peeked inside. My cock looked as it usually did; small and soft, curled up and asleep in its thatch of hair. If Noonan’s Folly had been adventuring in the night, there was no sign of it now. ‘It sure felt like an adventure,’ I croaked. I armed sweat off my forehead. It was stifling up here. ‘Not the kind I ever read about in The Hardy Boys, though.’ Then I remembered the blood-soaked sheet in the north bedroom, and the stuffed animal lying on its side in the middle of it. There was no sense of relief attached to the memory, that thank-God-it-was-only-a-dream feeling you get after a particularly nasty nightmare. It felt as real as any of the things I’d experienced in my measles fever-delirium . . . and all those things had been real, just distorted by my overheated brain. I staggered to the stairs and limped down them, holding tight to the bannister in case my tingling leg should buckle. At the foot I looked dazedly around the living room, as if seeing it for the first time, and then limped down the north-wing corridor. The bedroom door was ajar and for a moment I couldn’t bring myself to push it all the way open and go in. I was very badly scared, and my mind kept trying to replay an old episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents, the one about the man who strangles his wife during an alcoholic blackout. He spends the whole half hour looking for her, and finally finds her in the pantry, bloated and open-eyed. Kyra Devore was the only kid of stuffed-animal age I’d met recently, but she had been sleeping peacefully under her cabbage-rose coverlet when I left her mother and headed home. It was stupid to think I had driven all the way back to Wasp Hill Road, probably wearing nothing but my Jockeys, that I had What? Raped the woman? Brought the child here? In my sleep? I got the typewriter, in my sleep, didn’t I? It’s sitting right upstairs in the goddam hallway. Big difference between going thirty yards through the woods and five miles down the road to I wasn’t going to stand out here listening to those quarrelling voices in my head. If I wasn’t crazy and I didn’t think I was listening to those contentious assholes would probably send me there, and by the express. I reached out and pushed the bedroom door open. For a moment I actually saw a spreading octopus-pattern of blood soaking into the sheet, that’s how real and focused my terror was. Then I closed my eyes tight, opened them, and looked again. The sheets were rumpled, the bottom one mostly pulled free. I could see the quilted satin hide of the mattress. One pillow lay on the far edge of the bed. The other was scrunched down at the foot. The throw rug a piece of Jo’s work was askew, and my water-glass lay overturned on the nighttable. The bedroom looked as if it might have been the site of a brawl or an orgy, but not a murder. There was no blood and no little stuffed animal with black fur. I dropped to my knees and looked under the bed. Nothing there not even dust-kitties, thanks to Brenda Meserve. I looked at the ground-sheet again, first passing a hand over its rumpled topography, then pulling it back down and resecuring the elasticized corners. Great invention, those sheets; if women gave out the Medal of Freedom instead of a bunch of white politicians who never made a bed or washed a load of clothes in their lives, the guy who thought up fitted sheets would undoubtedly have gotten a piece of that tin by now. In a Rose Garden ceremony. With the sheet pulled taut, I looked again. No blood, not a single drop. There was no stiffening patch of semen, either. The former I hadn’t really expected (or so I was already telling myself), but what about the latter? At the very least, I’d had the world’s most creative wet-dream a triptych in which I had screwed two women and gotten a handjob from a third, all at the same time. I thought I had that morning-after feeling, too, the one you get when the previous night’s sex has been of the headbusting variety. But if there had been fireworks, where was the burnt gunpowder? ‘In Jo’s studio, most likely,’ I told the empty, sunny room. ‘Or on the path between here and there. Just be glad you didn’t leave it in Mattie Devore, bucko. An affair with a post-adolescent widow you don’t need.’ A part of me disagreed; a part of me thought Mattie Devore was exactly what I did need. But I hadn’t had sex with her last night, any more than I had had sex with my dead wife out on the swimming float or gotten a handjob from Sara Tidwell. Now that I saw I hadn’t killed a nice little kid either, my thoughts turned back to the typewriter. Why had I gotten it? Why bother? Oh man. What a silly question. My wife might have been keeping secrets from me, maybe even having an affair; there might be ghosts in the house; there might be a rich old man half a mile south who wanted to put a sharp stick into me and then break it off; there might be a few toys in my own humble attic, for that matter. But as I stood there in a bright shaft of sunlight, looking at my shadow on the far wall, only one thought seemed to matter: I had gone out to my wife’s studio and gotten my old typewriter, and there was only one reason to do something like that. I went into the bathroom, wanting to get rid of the sweat on my body and the dirt on my feet before doing anything else. I reached for the shower-handle, then stopped. The tub was full of water. Either I had for some reason filled it during my sleepwalk . . . or something else had. I reached for the drain-lever, then stopped again, remembering that moment on the shoulder of Route 68 when my mouth had filled up with the taste of cold water. I realized I was waiting for it to happen again. When it didn’t, I opened the bathtub drain to let out the standing water and started the shower. I could have brought the Selectric downstairs, perhaps even lugged it out onto the deck where there was a little breeze coming over the surface of the lake, but I didn’t. I had brought it all the way to the door of my office, and my office was where I’d work . . . if I could work. I’d work in there even if the temperature beneath the roofpeak built to a hundred and twenty degrees . . . which, by three in the afternoon, it just might. The paper rolled into the machine was an old pink-carbon receipt from Click!, the photo shop in Castle Rock where Jo had bought her supplies when we were down here. I’d put it in so that the blank side faced the Courier type-ball. On it I had typed the names of my little harem, as if I had tried in some struggling way to report on my three-faceted dream even while it was going on: Jo Sara Mattie Jo Sara Mattie Mattie Mattie Sara Sara Jo Johanna Sara Jo MattieSaraJo. Below this, in lower case: normal sperm count sperm norm all’s rosy I opened the office door, carried the typewriter in, and put it in its old place beneath the poster of Richard Nixon. I pulled the pink slip out of the roller, balled it up, and tossed it into the wastebasket. Then I picked up the Selectric’s plug and stuck it in the baseboard socket. My heart was beating hard and fast, the way it had when I was thirteen and climbing the ladder to the high board at the Y-pool. I had climbed that ladder three times when I was twelve and then slunk back down it again; once I turned thirteen, there could be no chickening out I really had to do it. I thought I’d seen a fan hiding in the far corner of the closet, behind the box marked GADGETS. I started in that direction, then turned around again with a ragged little laugh. I’d had moments of confidence before, hadn’t I? Yes. And then the iron bands had clamped around my chest. It would be stupid to get out the fan and then discover I had no business in this room after all. ‘Take it easy,’ I said, ‘take it easy.’ But I couldn’t, no more than that narrow-chested boy in the ridiculous purple bathing suit had been able to take it easy when he walked to the end of the diving board, the pool so green below him, the upraised faces of the boys and girls in it so small, so small. I bent to one of the drawers on the right side of the desk and pulled so hard it came all the way out. I got my bare foot out of its landing zone just in time and barked a gust of loud, humorless laughter. There was half a ream of paper in the drawer. The edges had that faintly crispy look paper gets when it’s been sitting for a long time. I no more than saw it before remembering I had brought my own supply stuff a good deal fresher than this. I left it where it was and put the drawer back in its hole. It took several tries to get it on its tracks; my hands were shaking. At last I sat down in my desk chair, hearing the same old creaks as it took my weight and the same old rumble of the casters as I rolled it forward, snugging my legs into the kneehole. Then I sat facing the keyboard, sweating hard, still remembering the high board at the Y, how springy it had been under my bare feet as I walked its length, remembering the echoing quality of the voices below me, remembering the smell of chlorine and the steady low throb of the air-exchangers: fwung-fwung-fwung-fwung, as if the water had its own secret heartbeat. I had stood at the end of the board wondering (and not for the first time!) if you could be paralyzed if you hit the water wrong. Probably not, but you could die of fear. There were documented cases of that in Ripley’s Believe It or Not, which served me as science between the ages of eight and fourteen. Go on! Jo’s voice cried. My version of her voice was usually calm and collected; this time it was shrill. Stop dithering and go on! I reached for the IBM’s rocker-switch, now remembering the day I had dropped my Word Six program into the Powerbook’s trash. Goodbye, old pal, I had thought. ‘Please let this work,’ I said. ‘Please.’ I lowered my hand and flicked the switch. The machine came on. The Courier ball did a preliminary twirl, like a ballet dancer standing in the wings, waiting to go on. I picked up a piece of paper, saw my sweaty fingers were leaving marks, and didn’t care. I rolled it into the machine, centered it, then wrote Chapter One and waited for the storm to break. How to cite Bag of Bones CHAPTER THIRTEEN, Essay examples

Courage in to Kill a Mockingbird free essay sample

One likes to think of a hero, as strong, brave, and meeting all challenges head on. All the characters in this book have a different view as to what courage is, and they all show it in different ways through their everyday lives. Younger characters, like Jem and Scout, see the physical aspect of it, whereas Atticus believes this to be an extremely weak form of courage. He believes in the mental quality of courage. The ability to be in minority and not back down and to be able to change; he admires Mrs. Dubose for her acts of courage that are against all odds. For a younger character, like Scout, courage is often associated with a physical act that is usually dangerous. It is hard for young children to realize that courage can be shown in other aspects of life. Scout sees an example of courage in her father when he shoots the mad dog Tim Johnson (pg. 101). Although Atticus does not think of it as very courageous, Jem and Scout are proud of their father and the courage he showed in this dangerous situation. Atticus views courage on a more intellectual level, as a moral thing not something that can be proved with a weapon. Later on in the story, Jem and Scout encounter the vindictive, spiteful Mrs. Dubose who often shouts out racism directed at the passing children because of Atticus’ job. At one point she proclaimed, Your fathers no better than the niggers and trash he works for! (pg. 111). When she blatantly made Atticus an object of ridicule like that, Jem decided that the best way to settle things was to ruin Mrs. Duboses camellias. Since he could not attack Mrs. Dubose directly, Jem decided to go for something close to her. He is committing a physical act of retaliation, which led to her suffering mental pain yet again. It was a cowardly act, for he dared not step up and confront her. After Atticus heard about this stunt, Jem was made to read to her every afternoon for a month. He now needed mental valour, and he did find it more difficult to source this than the physical bravery he was used to displaying. This is made apparent by him refusing to walk past her house alone, and because Jem was at first terrified of going to see her. Mrs. Dubose was a very sick woman, and had used morphine to ease her pain but was now addicted. It was her goal to leave the world beholden to nothing and nobody (pg. 120). She displayed what Atticus refers to as real courage. (pg. 121). She showed real courage because she does not have the luxury of standing there with a gun pointed at her addiction. One single attempt could not free her from the addiction. Rather, it had to be a many staged process over an extended period of time. It was shear determination and real courage that allowed her to accomplish her goal. It was not until after she died that Atticus explained to Jem and Scout how courageous the woman was because she knew she was dying but was still determined to die free of the morphine. She fought against great odds, even though she knew that she would surely die. Atticus tells his children that he wanted them to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. He also says that she was the bravest person he ever knew. (pg. 121) Real courage is when you fight for what is right regardless of whether you win or lose. Atticus Finch demonstrates real courage several times throughout the novel, in addition to the lessons that he teaches his children. The largest and most important example would be the trial of Tom Robinson. When Atticus took the case, he went up against Maycomb, a generally prejudiced town, in order to defend Tom. He understood that taking the case would make him an object of ridicule and that no one would forgive him for believing a black mans word over a white mans. Even his own sister expresses disapproval at his decision, practically telling him he was bringing disgrace to the family. Nevertheless, no matter how much his reputation suffered, he did not change his mind. Standing up for his morals and ethics was more important than what people thought about him. From the very start Atticus knows he will not win the case however he does his job and finishes what he set out to do. Atticuss strong sense of morality and justice motivates him to defend Tom Robinson with determination, giving it all he has. He shows this when he says, Simply because we were licked a hundred years before we started is no reason for us not to try and win. (pg. 82). He says this to Scout after she comes home from school angry at Cecil Jacobs for making fun of Atticus in the schoolyard. Atticus tells her to fight with her head instead of her fists. He wants the people of Maycomb to hear the truth about Tom, That boy may go to the chair, but hes not going till the truths told. (pg. 159). Atticus is putting everything a man holds dear, dignity, respect, honor and status, on the line to protect Tom. He later shows more bravery when he goes to the jailhouse to protect Tom from a mob. Without thinking twice, he rushed to Toms aid. He went willingly, knowing that if a mob did form he would be greatly outnumbered and would easily be beaten. Still, he put Toms well being ahead of his own welfare. While serving justice, Atticus also showed great courage. For example, he did not go along with Heck Tate when he told a lie about what really happened the night Bob Ewell was found stabbed to death. Atticus put his life and career on the line because he knew that, as an officer of the court, withholding information from an investigation could have gotten Mr. Tate thrown into jail. Nonetheless, like many times before, doing what was right and fair prevailed in Atticuss way of thinking. In addition, Atticus went against his moral code and principles he had always upheld before, when Atticus is faced with the decision of abiding by the law or breaking it in order to do the right thing. He knew that incarcerating a man like Arthur Radley would have been unforgivable, especially after Arthur had just performed a great deed by saving his childrens lives. He knew that exposing him would be an awful way of repaying him; it would have been like shooting a mockingbird. Therefore, Atticus chose to protect Boo from the public eye rather than abide by the law and his honest judicial ways he was so accustomed to follow. Sometimes it takes even more courage to set a new level of morals than to stay in one’s comfort zone. (pg. 297-302). The courage to change habits and thoughts is very important, because not everyone is able to do it. A very good example of this courage is when Atticus asked Scout not to fight anymore. When I committed myself to this act of cowardice. Word got around that Scout Finch wouldn’t fight anymore, her daddy wouldn’t let her. (pg. 97). That was a great act of courage because Scout used to fight a lot but as she had promised her father she would not fight anymore. Scout, like Jem does not want to disappoint Atticus, so she makes a change. In conclusion, Atticus shows praiseworthy courage and behaviour in many instances throughout the story, not by fighting or killing, but by standing up for what he believed in a civilized and determined way. His strongest motivation, however, were his children. He wants to be a good example for his kids and encourage in them a strong sense of moral value. One time Scout asks him why he had taken a case he knew he was not going to win and he responded by saying, For a number of reasons. The main one is, if I didnt I couldnt hold up my head in town, I couldnt represent this county in the legislature, I couldnt even tell you or Jem not to do something again. (pg. 82). In other words, he would not have been able to talk to his kids about justice and standing up for what one believes when he himself had not stood for what he believed in. The lessons taught by Atticus and Mrs. Dubose show Jem and Scout what it is to be courageous, to be able to change, to tell the truth and most importantly to stand up for their own beliefs. All qoutes from Lee, Harper, 1960, To kill a Mokingbird, London, Pan Books

Sociology Personal Statement for a Graduate’s Program Essay Example

Sociology Personal Statement for a Graduate’s Program Essay Sociology, which sometimes also refers as social science, deals with the scientific study of society. By using numerous types of pragmatic examinations and critical analysis, a sociologist analyze how humans interact with each other or simply how they interact with the society. There are different areas of sociology each examine a unique perspective of humans or society such as social organization that deals with the study of numerous groups, institutes or organizations and social psychology that deals with the study of collective behavior of humans and their attitudes or personalities. To become a sociologist you will first need to complete your graduate from a prospective university and to get admission in that university you will need to write a sociology personal statement. A personal statement is a prerequisite that you need to tackle when you apply to any college or university. It tells the board that evaluates the applications what makes the applicant tick, how he developed an interest in sociology and why he wants to study in this university. There are some personal statements that offer the applicants to pick out their own theme such as medical or law statements. But there are also some that ask the applicant to respond to only given questions such as business related personal statements. We will write a custom essay sample on Sociology Personal Statement for a Graduate’s Program specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now We will write a custom essay sample on Sociology Personal Statement for a Graduate’s Program specifically for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Hire Writer We will write a custom essay sample on Sociology Personal Statement for a Graduate’s Program specifically for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Hire Writer Nonetheless, to write an attention-grabbing sociology personal statement that can occupy a slot in your specific university, follow the below listed guidelines. First determine your potential or capability for studying sociology. List down your special skills or past experiences that shows your aptitude for this field. Tell the audience why you are the fit candidate for the sociology graduate program. What makes you special and competent to continue further studies in this field? Recall the history of your academic performance or previous experience that can act as evidence that you can handle the graduate studies in sociology in a competent manner. For instance, show them that you maintained your good performance and high grades while doing a full-time job during undergraduate. It is also important to conduct a little research on the university where you are applying for the graduation program so that you can respond them why their university is the best place for you. For instance, you can discuss their special course that you didn’t find in any other university and how that special course compelled you to seek admission there. Start the draft with an appealing introduction that hooks the board of the university. Open the statement with an interesting anecdote. You can also start with a quotation that gives the readers an idea about your point of view regarding sociology. Describe your qualification, work experience, inspiration or aspiration in the body of the personal statement. Since it is a sociology personal statement you need not to use any jargon but keep the writing simple. In the conclusion of the statement, reiterate the interest in the sociology field and your future goals that you have in mind.

Names of Plants, Food, and Drinks Formed by Folk Etymology

Names of Plants, Food, and Drinks Formed by Folk Etymology Names of Plants, Food, and Drinks Formed by Folk Etymology Names of Plants, Food, and Drinks Formed by Folk Etymology By Mark Nichol This post lists words for plants, food, and drinks, as well as some terms associated with drinks, derived from words in other languages as a result of folk etymology, a process by which speakers adopt the foreign terms after revising them by using existing elements from their native language. artichoke: The name of the vegetable stems ultimately from the Arabic word al-khurshÃ… «f by way of the Spanish term alcarchofa and the Italian term arcicioffo (rendered articiocco in an Italian dialect), with the English form likely influenced by choke. avocado: The native word for this New World fruit is ahuacatl, which was rendered into Spanish as aguacate, which in turn came to be spelled and pronounced like a now-obsolete Spanish word meaning â€Å"lawyer.† (Note the resemblance to advocate.) That word was then adopted into English. burger: This word is a shortening of hamburger, which originally was styled as Hamburger to denote a resident of Hamburg, Germany, or various things originating there. The connection to Hamburg is obscure, but a patty of ground meat was called a hamburg steak during the late nineteenth century and later, when paired with a bun, a hamburger sandwich, then simply a hamburger. After cheeseburger was coined, hamburger was often shortened to burger. cocktail: This term for a mixed alcoholic drink or, by extension, various mixtures of substances (as in â€Å"fruit cocktail†) has an uncertain origin, but it may derive from the French term coquetier (meaning â€Å"egg cup†), from the use of such containers to serve mixed drinks in the late eighteenth century. demijohn: Several hundred years ago, a large, round bottle wrapped in wicker was in French termed a damejeanne (meaning â€Å"Lady Jane,† perhaps from its anthropomorphic appearance). Nearly a century later, an adaptation of the term was adopted into English. mandrake: Originally, in Greek, mandragoras, the term for a plant whose root has narcotic qualities passed into English through Latin. Because of the resemblance of the middle of the word to dragon, the term was adapted by folk etymology to end with drake, an English variation of dragon. mangrove: The Spanish word for this tropical coastal tree is mangue (likely adapted from a Caribbean language), and in Portuguese it is called mangle. Adopted into Middle English as mangrow, it evolved to its current form influenced by grove, meaning â€Å"a stand of trees.† mistletoe: Mistel, of uncertain origin, was the name of this shrub that grows on trees and is associated with Christmas (originally, with fertility, hence the custom of kissing under a sprig of the plant around the time of the holiday); in Old English, it was called misteltÄ n (â€Å"mistel twig†), and the fading emphasis on the final syllable resulted in the current spelling. mushroom: The name for various species of fungus is derived from the Latin term mussirionem by way of the Old French word meisseron and its Anglo-French variation, musherun. pumpkin: The name of the gourd was derived from the Greek word pepon, meaning â€Å"melon†; the second syllable of the Middle English descendant pompone (also spelled pumpion) was altered to the diminutive syllable -kin. saltcellar: A bowl or other container for salt was in Old French called a salier; this term, transformed by folk etymology into cellar, was redundantly attached to the English word salt to describe such an object. serviceberry: This edible berry acquired its name from the resemblance of the fruit to that of the genus Sorbus, some species of which are called service trees; service is derived from the Latin genus name and is unrelated to serve. (The alternative names juneberry and shadberry derive from the fact that the berries ripen in June, at about the same time as shad proliferate in creeks in New England.) sparrowgrass: Asparagus, borrowed directly from the Latin version of asparagos, the Greek word for an edible plant, was altered by folk etymology to sparrowgrass. Welsh rabbit: The name given to melted cheese on toast or a dish with melted cheese and bread was originally a jocular reference, at the expense of the Welsh people, to cheese as a poor persons substitute for rabbit meat, a delicacy; â€Å"Welsh rarebit† is a variant. witch hazel: The first word in the name of the tree derives from the Old English word wice, meaning â€Å"pliable†; the use of witch hazel twigs as divining rods may have prompted the alteration of the name. wormwood: The alteration of the Old English word wermod, denoting the wormwood plant, the aromatic herb harvested from it, and its derivative, absinthe, perhaps stemmed from the bitter aftertaste of the liquor. Vermouth comes from the German equivalent, Wermuth; that liquor was originally flavored with the herb. 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 Vocabulary category, check our popular posts, or choose a related post below:Writing a Reference Letter (With Examples)Peace of Mind and A Piece of One's Mind30 Words Invented by Shakespeare

The Effect Of Advertising On Men As Consumers From 1880-1930 And Its Research Paper

The Effect Of Advertising On Men As Consumers From 1880-1930 And Its Impact On American Culture - Research Paper Example â€Å"Consumption has long been central to American identity, culture, economic development and politics† (Glickman 1), and it has been termed as the national pastime of the United States. Consumerism or the various ideologies and movements built around consumption forms the core of economics and politics. America is known as a ‘consumer society’, this concept includes material wealth, infrastructure, an economy dominated by mass production and mass consumption, political factors and the country’s national identity. It is essential to study the male consumer to break the association of consumerism and consumption with women and feminity which distorts history’s perspective of gendered consumerism. The Role of Men in Consumerism and Advertising Swiencicki (p.238) states that â€Å"American men consumed about twice as many recreational and leisure goods as women†, spending about 30 percent of the family’s income for this purpose. Further, male consumption and consumerism are neither marginal nor dependent on women. Late-Victorian, non-rural white men appear to have spent a great deal of free time consuming numerous goods and services. However, it would be inaccurate to consider either men or women as the primary consumers. Men are primary consumers of commercialized leisure, entertainment, and recreation; while women are primary consumers of domestic and family goods (Swiencicki 238). ... The Role of Men in Consumerism and Advertising Swiencicki (p.238) states that â€Å"American men consumed about twice as many recreational and leisure goods as women†, spending about 30 percent of the family’s income for this purpose. Further, male consumption and consumerism are neither marginal nor dependent on women. Late-Victorian, non-rural white men appear to have spent a great deal of free time consuming numerous goods and services. However, it would be inaccurate to consider either men or women as the primary consumers. Men are primary consumers of commercialized leisure, entertainment, and recreation; while women are primary consumers of domestic and family goods (Swiencicki 238). According to Heilmann & Beetham (pp.127-128), women are responsible for 75 percent of purchases, therefore advertising should be subtly modified to motivate women to buy. Women are understood as responsive to visual and emotional appeal. Hence advertisements aimed to offer a positive image of women which they would like to identify with. For example, using New Woman imagery, a series of advertisements for brandy run in BIZ in 1923 featured women several times larger than the men in the picture. These advertisements with an underlying flirtatiousness portrayed men as dependent on women who were stronger than them, and also appeared reassuring. While the woman is depicted as posing coquettishly, the tiny man pleads with her to allow him to have some of the brandy she holds in a bottle behind her back. Similarly, a robin in a top hat perches on a woman’s hand to drink the brandy she holds. On the other hand, Swiencicki (p.214) argues that â€Å"pre-Depression, white men consumed many commodities that were not purchased by women†. Many if not most men’s leisure and social

British Studies Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words

British Studies - Essay Example I have particularly concentrated on material I found and consulted in the Maritime London Gallery (level 1 to level 3) Neptune Court) of the National Maritime Museum, where it is described in depth regarding the industrial revolution of the 18th and 19th Centuries as well as the fishing trade and exploration conquests of the British Empire during that period. The Cutty Sark Museum on the other hand is solely devoted to this fabulous clipper which became world famous and brought Britain laurels both in terms of trade as well as a living example of the perfection of the shipbuilding efficiency of the British shipyards in that time. The British Empire or Pax Britanica as it was called after the Waterloo Battle in 1815, was led towards an explosion of trade by the sea. There were many factors that influenced the growth of trade in the British Empire during 18th and 19th Century. The most important was that during that period the British ruled the seas by controlling the majority of the key naval trade navigational routes and thereby enjoying total sea monopoly; which was also the main trade highway of the period. The British Empire’s control was so powerful that it was even able to control China from the outside without any actual administrational or colonial involvement. British merchant ships were trading on a regular basis with North America and West Indies (after the acquisition on Virginia in 1607 and Barbados in 1625) and by the end of the 17th century , a huge number of people (apprx 350,000) managed to emigrate across the Atlantic Ocean with these very ships. These people base helped to propagate and facilitate new markets for trade and commerce from England. In order to cope up, the British Empire became the leading shipyard industry in the world. (National Maritime Museum) This continued to be so till mid 20th century when the Asiatic shipyards took over by producing

Genealogy, History, and Mythology in Olympian 9

Genealogy, History, and Mythology in Olympian 9 From Polis to Oikos At the end of Olympian 9, the ode for Epharmostos, the champion wrestler from Opountian Lokris, Pindar declares phya, his idiosyncratic rendering of physis  (altogether best: Ol. 9.100);[1] he says that the heralds proclamation ought to record that his victor was born (with quick hands, nimble legs, determination in his look), all the natural and inherited endowments necessary for athletic success (Ol. 9.108ff).[2] Despite his emphasis on Epharmostos birth (with divine help he was born), Pindar, unusually, names neither the father of the victor nor acknowledges any family whatsoever. In a genre as concerned with family and identity as epinikian, the omission is striking and potentially troublesome for the rhetoric of epinikian praise. Miller remarks that such an omission would almost certainly only occur at the instruction of the client himself, and thus we should conclude that Epharmostos did not regard family or fathers name as essential to his self-definition.[3] Pindars encomiu m still functions, but the absence of family disturbs many of the regular features of epinikian, especially the standard integration of phya and family.[4] Family, via the fathers name, was an element of the heralds proclamation or angelia and would have been announced after Epharmostos victory.[5] While Pindars epinikian evokes the angelia, it freely includes, excludes, or modifies elements of the proclamation.[6] The modification, or omission, of a component of the angelia therefore serves as an opening for my analysis of the ode: rather than focus on the question of why Pindar did not include the fathers name, this article explains how Pindaric praise, particularly the praise of inherited ability, still functions in an ode that omits a key component of epinikian poetics. Pindar, despite the ostensible absence of family in this ode, nonetheless praises phya through ethnos and polis and with a colonial narrative of early Lokrian and Opountian history. While the focus on the conjunction of the victor with ethnos and polis is certainly not without parallel, Ol. 9 is singular in its emphasis on the correlation of biography and history. The Archaic and early Classical assimilation of genealogy to ethnic and civic history joins such seemingly disparate concepts as inheritance, family lineage, and genealogy with ethnic descent and civic foundation. The polis, one component of the angelia, can replace family, another component, because of the conceiving of ethnic and civic identity as essentially genealogical. In her study of the economy of praise in epinikian, Kurke concludes that the family is crucial not only to the celebration of athletic success but to success itself (1991, 3; cf. Cole 1987, 560). She suggests that the family connection is important enough that we should recognize Pindars (and his victors) different concept of self-identity, which was integrated, to a great degree, with family.[7] In this conceiving of self-identity, personal athletic victory can be understood as a renewal of the family, especially through the metaphors of new birth, marriage, and rites for dead ancestors.[8] Thus, the exclusion of family from Epharmostos ode is unexpected: his victory, while it may have brought fame to his living relatives, is not represented as renewing or reviving the fame of his oikos, since the oikos is absent from the ode; his Olympic victory cannot participate in the common epinikian analogizing of athletic victory to family renewal, since there is no literal family in the poem . This omission is highly unusual in epinikian, which, as Carey points out, memorializes through naming.[9] In only a few odes does Pindar not mention family members: Ol. 1, Ol. 4, Ol. 9, Pyth. 3, Pyth. 12, and Isthm. 3. In a number of these, the paternal and familial absence may be able to be rationalized: the victor is either a ruler or politically or socially prominent and thus the ode focuses attention on them, or at any rate participates in a rather complex political context (Ol. 1 for Hieron; Pyth. 3 for Hieron);[10] in another two cases the fathers name appears in an earlier ode for the same victor, and thus perhaps familial self-identity had been fulfilled   (Hierons fathers name appears in another ode as well: Pyth. 1.79; Ol. 4 for Psaumis of Kamarina, whose father Akron is named at Ol. 5.8, and his sons at 5.23; Isthm. 3 for Melissos of Thebes, whose father is named at Isthm. 4.45). Pythian 12 and Olympian 9 stand out, since they lack any explicit reference to the father, clan, or family of the victor. Pyth. 12 praises the victory of Midas of Akragas in the aulos competition at the Pythian Games; significantly, it is the only extant ode to praise a victor in a musical contest. While Strauss-Clay suggests that the absence of Midas father and family is explained by his professional standing as an aulos player, Maria Pavlou offers a convincing and subtle explanation that situates the absence of family in the context of Akragrantine politics.[11] She suggests that Midas victory is an agalma for the city, since Akragas itself receives an extended encomium (Pyth. 12.1-5), and she argues that Midas victory ode was commissioned by the then-ascendant Emmenidae (perhaps Theron himself), in order to stress their power, and to relate them to a celebration of Akragantine culture. Thus Pythian 12 does not offer evidence that lower-status athletes (if, indeed, Midas was lower- status) would not celebrate their fathers, but rather indicates the potential utility of an epinikian victory to the political program of an aspiring tyrant.[12] Consequently, Ol. 9 is alone in its complete absence of a literal family or ancestry, or at least, it is the only ode in which an obvious explanation does not appear to be forthcoming through the political or social context of the poem, and the lack of fathers name cannot be explained because of any known personal political prominence or a powerful patron. Even if Epharmostos family had not had previous athletic success, family could still appear, since in other odes victory acts retroactively to glorify otherwise obscure ancestors (e.g., Nem. 6.17-29). Aside from Epharmostos, the ode mentions one other apparently historical individual, Lampromachos, whose presence has sparked much ancient and modern discussion.[13] He is introduced as a cause for the poets presence at the celebration of Olympian 9 (82-84): Because of guest friendship and achievement I have come to honor the Isthmian fillets of Lampromachos, when both won their victories in one day. The scholiasts are divided on the meaning of: 123a and 123c regard Lampromachos as a proxenos in the technical sense, while 123d and 123e consider to be equivalent to in this passage; finally, 125c considers Lampromachos a kinsman of Epharmostos.[14] Modern scholarship has been similarly divided.[15] While the institution of proxenia existed in the fifth-century, it is not certain that an institutionalized proxenia has any relevance to Pindars use of the term in Ol. 9.[16] In one of the only accounts to try to rationalize the appearance of proxenos here, Pavlou focuses on the early evidence for proxenia in Lokris specifically; she is skeptical that Pindar would use a technical term so loosely and she contends that by the fifth-century, proxenia was firmly entrenched as an institution.[17] Pavlou follows the opinion of one of the scholiasts and regards Lampromachos as the proxenos of the Thebans at Opous, and thus a relevant personage to Pindars presence and the commissioning of the o de.[18] The Pindaric usage of proxenia and related words, however, suggests that proxenia could also signify vaguer hospitality. Isthm. 4.8, for example, teams proxenia with the adverb which renders it unlikely that the word refers to a contemporary institution; it is probable that appropriate hospitality is simply another component of the praise of the Kleonymidai.[19] In fr. 94b, Pindar uses the plural dative à Ã¢â€š ¬Ãƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹describes a tradition of hospitality, which began in the past and extends to the present day (38-45), and once again, it is unlikely that the combination of a temporal adverb referring to the past and proxenia refers to the institution.[20] Nem. 7 has presented its own issues of interpretation, in terms of situating the passage in the larger organization of the poem, but proxenia, nonetheless, likely remains general rather than specific.[21] At Nem. 7.64-65, the reference to proxenia probab ly has little to do with the Achaian man, and rather, proxenia evokes the previous reference to xenia at Nem. 7.61 ( I am a guest-friend).[22] Again, an institutionalized meaning is highly unlikely. In other poetic uses from the early fifth-century, the term can refer to general hospitality: in Aeschylus Suppliant Women, proxenia refers to general protection by a powerful patron (or deity), rather than an institutionalized system of city-sponsored hosting (Aesch. Supp. 420, 491, 919). A fragment of Aeschylus Diktyouloi uses proxenia but then glosses it with the word à Ã¢â€š ¬Ãƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ Ã¢â€š ¬Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ºÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °Ãƒ Ã‚  champion (TrGF III: fr. 47a.768-770). Therefore, proxenia in Ol. 9, and throughout the Pindaric corpus, can occur as a metaphor for hospitality, guest-friend relations, and philia, rather than a reference to the civic institution; the term is not evidence for a civic commissioning or biographical speculation but rather reinforces the intimate connection of city and victor. Lampromachos opens the victory catalogue two other Isthmian wins are recorded separately in the following line (Ol. 9.86). The mention of Lampromachos is likely a flourish with which to open the catalogue, an instance in which Epharmostos and his countryman both won at a pan-Hellenic festival on the same day. Pindar begins with a special victory, and then proceeds to begin the catalogue-proper of Epharmostos, proceeding, as is normal, from victories in the Crown Games.[23] The victory with Lampromachos is given special prominence (it begins the catalogue) because of its significance to the city of Opous, a city poorly represented in victories at the Crown Games.[24] Considering the odes explicit focus on praise of Opous aswellasEpharmostos, the inclusion of its other stephanitic victor is hardly surprising. It may be strange, in this case, that Pindar does not mention Menalkes (Moretti no. 240), who won at boxing at the same Olympics as Epharmostos, though perhaps the inclusion of a nother Olympic victor would challenge the primacy of Epharmostos praise in the ode Lampromachos lesser Isthmian victory fulfills the function of praising the city without eclipsing the praise of the laudandus. The mythic section of the ode, in which hospitality and guest-friendship not institutionalized proxenia are conjoined, when foreigners are welcomed to the new city of Opous (Ol. 9.67-69), supports my interpretation of proxenia at Lampromachos appearance. In fact, the settlement of foreigners (explicitly xenoi: Ol. 9.67) and the arete of Opous himself (Ol. 9.65-66; and the polis at Ol. 9.16) as well as one of the descendants of the new settlers (Patroklos, Ol. 9.70-76), have already appeared together in the odes narrative. Thus, Pindar comes to Opous because of the same qualities that have already characterized the polis and ethnos in the mythic narrative he, like the xenoi in the myth, is attracted to the presence of the famous residents of the city, and its famous hospitality. Repetition and a cyclical perspective on Lokrian and Opountian history predominate in the structure of the ode, and so the rationale for Pindars visit seems to reinforce the identity of Epharmostos victory with the past history and mythology of his city and ethnos. Lampromachos is not included because of any political office, special relation, or involvement in the commissioning of the ode (all the suggestions of the scholiasts), but simply because of his status as an Opountian pan-Hellenic victor.[25] Regardless of the always vague, and impossible to prove historical circumstances surrounding the commissioning of the ode, the focus is on Opountian achievements in the victory catalogue, first in the single victory of Lampromachos, and then in the longer record of Epharmostos myriad victories this is not proof of a civic commissioning, but rather exemplary of Pindars method of integrating victor with community.[26] Ol. 9 exemplifies the Pindaric tendency to merge oikos and polis epinikian is a form of civic adornment by the wealthy after all. Merger, however, does not fully satisfy in the context of the ode, since the family in Ol. 9 is not simply combined with the polis; that, in athletics, is the normal state of affairs, because the angelia teams together individual, familial, and civic identities. [27] In Ol. 9, in contrast, Epharmostos family is absent, and the ethnos of Lokris and the polis of Opous replace the oikos of the victor. The presence of Lampromachos in the victory catalogue, in a place generally reserved for family achievements, as a result of his civic identity, indicates this replacement: the polis relegates family and positions itself as the family of the seemingly family-less Epharmostos, so that the history of Lokris and Opous becomes the biographyof Epharmostos, the citys putative ancestry replaces the victors actual genealogy. While homeland praise is a commonplace in Pindaric criticism, Kurke notes that the place of neither family praise nor homeland praise in epinikian has ever been questioned.[28] She stresses the public and communal nature of the reception of Pindars art, and comments that Pindar uses foundation myths because of their inherently political quality, since they transform an entire polis into a single family descended from a common mythic ancestor.[29] The public aspect of epinikian, and the function of homeland praise as part of the political performative of epinikian provokes this articles new interpretation of Olympian 9: the recognition of Opous and Lokris standing in as the oikos of this victor allows us to reimagine the connection between Epharmostos Olympic victories and the mythic narrative in the ode in the context of replacement family and substitute ancestry. This reimagining begins by situating the series of foundations and renewals in the performance of the song itself. The respective establishment of ethnos and polis are emphasized in the ode and function to praise Epharmostos by placing him in a continuity of inheritance (Pindaric phya), modulated through civic and ethnic lineage. Although he has no actual family worth mentioning in the ode, the song manufactures a lineage (and inheritance) of great deeds through the telling and re-telling of history and mythology. It is therefore in the two figures who complete great deeds, Deukalion and Opous (ethnic and civic founders, and themselves involved with unusual family), that we should look for the mythic parallels through which Pindar praises his patron, Epharmostos, and the polis, Opous.[30] Pindars narrative in Ol. 9 is one of the earliest, and most complete, Lokrian myths.[31] He begins from the flood, after which Deukalion and Pyrrha descend from Mount Parnassos to found a city and establish its autochthonous inhabitants (Ol. 9.43-46), the Leleges who become the ethnos of the Lokrians;[32] second, the lineage of kings is renewed through the adoption of a son, Opous, descended directly from Zeus (Ol. 9.57-66), through whom the civic identity of Opountians is established.[33] In both cases, foundations are not straightforward. Standard Greek origin stories revolved around autochthony or migration (Hall 2002: 31-35), but in Pindars narrative, colonial-style foundation is coupled with autochthony (Deukalion and Pyrrha) and hereditary inheritance is complicated by adoption (Opous) a productive merger for representing Epharmostos civic and ethnic genealogy. Thus, Pindar finds room in his Lokrian and Opountian creation myths to accommodate all manners of foundation and esta blishment, and in doing so, firmly establishes the Hellenic identity of Epharmostos Lokrian ancestors.[34] The section on Deukalion and Pyrrha opens after Pindars self-recrimination for the Herakles narrative. While the digression accords with Pindars formal use of Abbruchsformeln,[35] the specific rationale for the inclusion of Herakles here has generated debate, and some have compared Herakles stance against the gods (mortal versus immortal) with Epharmostos victory at Marathon, when he was, according to Pindar, incorrectly placed in the mens category (Ol. 9.89-90).[36] Though some audience members may have made this connection, I concur with Gerber, who regards the comparison as inappropriate, since it would claim some glory for doing combat with the gods (surely, un-Pindaric: see Ol. 9.35-41; cf. Ol. 1.35).[37] Rather, the Abbruchsformel, as often, allows Pindar to draw a connection through juxtaposition, where one is logically absent: here, Herakles descent from Zeus and its consequent effect on his abilities (for the general principle of inherited ability and divine grace: Ol. 9.28- 29; for the specific application to Epharmostos, see Ol. 9.100-104) is placed in close contact with the founding story of Opous and the Lokrians, in which Zeus will similarly play a major role and will bequeath abilities to Lokrian and Opountian progeny (Ol. 9.56-65).[38] By the end of the ode, the connection of divinity and ability is made clear in the latest generation, in the object of the odes praise, when Pindar observes that men do poorly à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬ ¦ ÃŽÂ ´Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ² ÃŽÂ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ¦ (Ol. 9.103). After this apparent interruption, with characteristic self-recrimination (though with the effect generated by the juxtaposition in place), Pindar directs himself to stay to the topic at hand, which is the city of Protogeneia (Ol. 9.41-56): à Ã¢â‚¬  Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³Ãƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ ÃŽÂ ´Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ² ÃŽÂ  Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬Å¾Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½, à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ °ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ²Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ± ΆÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¸Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ´Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¾Ã‚ ³ ÃŽÂ  Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ »Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ± ΆÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬ ¦ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ à Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µ ÃŽÂ  ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ¦ ÃŽÂ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ²Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µ ÃŽÂ ´Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ à Ã¢â€š ¬Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½, à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬Å¾Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã‚  ÃŽÂ ´ ÃŽÂ µÃƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¾Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ à ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ´ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ 45ÃŽÂ ºÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ³Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã¢â‚¬ ¡ ÃŽÂ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¶ ÃŽÂ ´ à ¡Ã‚ ½Ã¢â€š ¬ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½. à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ Ã‚  à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ Ãƒ Ã¢â€š ¬Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ à Ã†â€™Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬  ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ¶ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½, ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ´ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ ´Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ² à Ã¢â€š ¬ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ¼Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ²ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ¶ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½, à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ± ÃŽÂ ´ à ¡Ã‚ ½Ã¢â‚¬ ¢ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½. ÃŽÂ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ ¼Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ 50à Ã¢â‚¬ ¡ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ± ÃŽÂ ¼Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ²ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ »Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ ¼Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ à ¡Ã‚ ½Ã¢â‚¬ ¢ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ´ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ à Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡, à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â€š ¬ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ± ÃŽ-ÃŽÂ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¸Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ à Ã¢â‚¬Å¾Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ ¡ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â€š ¬ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â€š ¬Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °Ãƒ Ã¢â€š ¬ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬  ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬ËœÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ ¡Ã‚ ¿-ÃŽÂ ½. ÃŽÂ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ´ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬ Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ à Ã¢â‚¬ ¡ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ºÃƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ Ã¢â€š ¬ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ´ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ à ¡Ã‚ ½Ã¢â‚¬ËœÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ à Ã¢â€š ¬Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ 55à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â€š ¬Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ ¡Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¾Ã‚ ¶ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½, à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â€š ¬ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ´ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ à Ã¢â‚¬  Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ »Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ ÃŽÂ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ¦Ãƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¾Ã‚ ¶ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¶ à Ã¢â‚¬  ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÅ ¡Ãƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ´Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¾Ã‚ ¶ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½, à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ³Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ ¡Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ ²ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¿Ã¢â‚¬  ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ °ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ · à ¢Ã¢â€š ¬Ã‚ ¦apply your speech to Protogeneias city, where, by decree of Zeus of the bright thunderbolt, Pyrrha and Deukalion came down from Parnassos and first established their home, and, without coupling, founded one folk, an offspring of stone: and they were called people. Awaken for them a clear-sounding path of words; praise wine that is old, but the blooms of hymns that are newer.   Indeed they tell that mighty waters had flooded over the dark earth, but, through Zeus contriving, an ebb tide suddenly drained the floodwater. From them came your ancestors of the bronze shields in the beginning, sons from the daughters of Iapetos race and from the mightiest sons of Kronos, being always a native line of kings, In this passage, Pindar briefly summarizes the end of the flood narrative, which left only Deukalion and Pyrrha alive atop of Mount Parnassos. In Pindars telling, the origin of the flood is left obscure, though Zeus will is the clear cause of its cessation.[39] The significance of 48-49 has been interpreted variously.[40] Despite some attempts to connect this comment to Simonides, the phrase must make sense in the context of its performance and patron, not to mention in re-performance scenarios.[41] The contrast is perhaps best understood in terms of praising the essential qualities of things: antiquity in wine is best (e.g., Od. 2.340), whereas novelty in songs, at least in the context of this ode (which opens, after all, with a contrast between old and new songs: Ol. 9.1), is best. Here I am not arguing for a universal motif in Pindar, but rather, that in thisodeinparticular, Pindar opens by stressing the novelty of his song (the Archilochus song), and thus, in this ode, newness in song is an important element;[42] Pindar buttresses this contention perhaps not so self-evident by the comparison with wine.[43] In fact, since essential qualities generally phya play a major part in the praise of the victor (Ol. 9.100ff), the extension of this opinion to the song that praises that victor makes thematic sense and further strengthens the encomium. If the following myth is unconventional, or stresses unconventional aspects by focusing on the Lokrian and Opountian origin of humanity after the flood, then the statement serves as a self-reference to the poets skill as well as being emphatic about one of the objects of the odes praise.[44] In fact, when Pindar turns to the story of Lokrian and Opountian foundation, he foregrounds the connections amongst ethnos, polis, and Epharmostos (and thus strengthens his case for a continuity of inheritance), by asking for a clear-sounding path of words for them (Ol. 9.47): surely here we read a reference to the whole race of the Lokrians through all the temporal stages of the ode, since for them follows the riddling reference to their name (Ol. 9.45-46). Thus, the whole of 48-49 serves as a transition and, via a short priamel, an explicit way to focus audience attention on the objects of the odes praise, before turning to implicit praise via the mythic narrative.[45] The foundation of Opous, the first human habitation following the destruction of the race, comes about ΆÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¸Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ´Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¾Ã‚ ³ (by decree of Zeus, Ol. 9.42). ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ± is a complicated word in Pindar, though its basic meaning of share or portion often metaphorically denotes fate (s.v. ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ± (A), Slater), and, in several instances, ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ± is the fate that allows athletic victory to come to fruition: in Nem. 3.16, Aristokleidas strength in the pankration persists ÃŽÂ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ (thanks to your [i.e., the Muses] favor); at Nem. 6.13, Alkimidas fortune at Nemea is expressly connected to Zeus favor (ΆÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ a fortune from Zeus); in Pyth. 10, it is ÃŽÂ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ ÃŽÂ ±Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ (duly) that a living man sees his son crowned at the Pythian Games (10.25-26).[46] Ol. 9 points to the necessity of the favor of the gods (above all, Zeus) to athletic victory: à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬ ¦ ÃŽÂ ´Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ² ÃŽÂ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ¦, à Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ / ÃŽÂ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚  à Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ à Ã¢â‚¬ ¡Ãƒ Ã‚ Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¿Ã¢â‚¬  ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ (but when god takes no part, each deed is no worse / for being left in silence, 103-104) (also, Ol. 9.28-29); in fact, Zeus is one of the honorees of Epharmostos ode (Ol. 9.6).[47] The involvement of the nous of Zeus in Opountian history connects the distant foundation of ethnos, the legendary establishment of polis, and the present praise of Epharmostos, especially through a word that can be used to describe the role of fate in athletic victory. As Pindar describes it, these three instances are correlative, not through content, but through the aition for each, that is, divine will (and Zeus is particularly attuned to watching over Lokrian history, as this odes mythic narrative demonstrates); they are thematically contiguous despite the vast expanse of time.[48] Deukalion and Pyrrha are the founders of the Lokrian ethnos; their arrival at what will be Opous is characterized less as an arrival at a foreign land and rather as the arrival at their destined home Deukalion and Pyrrha are not alien (although simultaneously not native) to the land of Opous, and it is there that they establish their home (Ol. 9.44; cf. Str. 9.4.2). ÃŽÂ ºÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã†â€™ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ ³Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ suggestively combines foundation language (ÃŽÂ ºÃƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ ° to found) with parentage (ÃŽÂ ³Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ offspring); it also evokes Pindars vocabulary for athletic inscriptions (cf. Ol. 7.86: à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÅ“ÃŽÂ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ³Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ±Ãƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹Ãƒ Ã†â€™Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ à Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ ÃŽÂ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ ¡ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬ ¢Ãƒ Ã ¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ ÃŽÂ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ± / à Ã‹â€ Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ¾Ã‚ ¶Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬  ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¡ à ¡Ã‚ ¼Ã¢â‚¬ Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ ¡ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ³ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ while in Megara the record in stone / tells no other tale).[49] Deukalion and Pyrrha begin the replacement of oikos by ethnos and polis: their natural daughter, Protogeneia, evaporates into the city they found (Ol. 9. 41-42);[50] the ÃŽÂ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ · (stone people) are treated as if their children; the original inhabitants of Opous, their fellow-citizens, are also their descendants. Pindar emphasizes the blurring of oikos and polis: he describes the descendants of the ÃŽÂ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ · as from them came your ancestors of the bronze shieldsà ¢Ã¢â€š ¬Ã‚ ¦ (Ol. 9.53-54). The antecedent of ÃŽÂ ºÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬ °ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ has provoked much discussion among commentators ancient and modern, though rather than stress a specific meaning, ambiguity, as often, renders Pindars verse more, not less understandable; ambiguity exists in the initial description of the city of Protogeneia and the parentage of the ÃŽÂ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ ÃŽÂ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·.[51] As so often, Pindars verse resists an interpretive straightjacket: the ambiguous demonstrative suggestively begins the replacement of oikos by polis, which is, of course, salient to the encomium of the odes laudandus, Epharmostos. The understanding of à ¡Ã‚ ½Ã¢â‚¬ËœÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ (Ol. 9.54) has proceeded along similarly fraught lines, though again, sensitivity to the theme of replacement and identity of oikos, ethnos, and polis in the ode provides some clarity.[52] à ¡Ã‚ ½Ã¢â‚¬ËœÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¼Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ³Ãƒ Ã¢â‚¬Å¾ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ µÃƒ Ã‚ ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ can refer to both Epharmostos family and the Opountians generally because Epharmostos family, as represented in the ode, istheOpountians (thus, Epharmostos is like his mythological antecedent, Opous, whose true family are the inhabitants of his eponymous city). Pindars verse, through mythic narrative and purposeful ambiguity completes not a merger of oikos and ethnos and polis, but rather a replacement of one by the others: Deukalions natural daughter becomes an alternative name for a city that is populated by the fellow-citizens (or family) of the descendants of the ÃŽÂ »Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¸ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¹ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ½ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿ÃƒÅ½  ¹ ÃŽÂ »ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ±ÃƒÅ½Ã‚ ¿Ãƒ ¡Ã‚ ½Ã‚ ·. The appearance of the autochthonous original inhabitants of Opous, the race of stone, evokes colonial motifs, which muddles distinctions between native and foreign, and which stress the rele