Machiavellis Cycle of Governance Essay Example for Free

Machiavellis Cycle of Governance Essay Ancient Rome such a stable and economically fruitful empire. Concerning the structures of governance as it was in 16th century florence, Machiavelli expressed the opinion that only six forms of government exist that maintain a perpetual cycle of short lived power before sucuming to, what he viewed as a natural end. This is brought about either due to a successful insurection and instalment of a form of government which evolved out of oppression or a form of government that eventually grew to become greedy and corrupt through generational changes. The model Machiavelli presents begins with a society in a state of nature or Anarchy that exists until the people begin to realise strength in numbers and seek leadership from the foremost individual who assumes rulership, thus evolving into a Monarchy. The good Monarch is however, succeeded by corrupt rulers who use their power for their own gain and control through Tyranny. The Tyrant is eventually overthrown by a rebellion and the rebels retain control amongst themselves collectively producing an Aristocracy. The Aristocrats are then succeeded by a generation that again, begins to use its powers to oppress the people and becomes an Oligarchy. Like the Tyrant, they are overthrown by the oppressed who then form a Democracy. As time progresses, order and control dissolve completely until we find ourselves in a state of nature or Anarchy once again. As Machiavelli saw it, because of mans propensity to greed and corruption against the collective force of the oppressed victims, the cycle of instability could only ever provide temporal security and was not an effective enough solution. Machiavelli lived in a period of insessent political conflict and social disharmony which provided him with a deep rooted motivation to ensure order and stability could be demonstrated within the system he sought. Machiavelli drew the conclusion that a balance of power shared between a monarchical figure, an aristocratic institution and a democratic institution, as the Ancient Romans had implemented, was the most benificial arrangement in the interest of the state. In order to sustain order, it is necessary to employ the method of checks and balances, meaning each faction must regulate the other to prevent the accumulation of too power in the hands of an individual or particular group. Today we use the term separation of powers to identify this form of self monitoring government. Although critics of this form of power regulation state that it slows up progress, promotes excesses of executive power and unaccountability, those who would champion the method maintain it is an effective means to ensure liberty and democracy while avoiding the possibility of tyranny.

Citizen Kane By Orson Wells Essay examples -- essays research papers

Citizen Kane By many, Citizen Kane is one of the greatest films ever made. Orson Wells, at age 25, directed, produced, and starred in this film. Citizen Kane is a memorable film for countless reasons. The film brought about controversy because it fictionalized the life of William Randolph Hearst, a powerful newspaper publisher. The film draws remarkable parallels with his life and his relationship with his mistress. There is also speculation that the film is loosely based on Wells’ life as well. This movie tells the fascinating story of the life and death of Charles Foster Kane, a narcissistic newspaper runner, politician, and a wealthy millionaire. What makes this movie spectacular is not only the acting of the actors, but the symbolism and cinematic effects. The techniques used by the cinematographer brought this film to life. This is what sets Citizen Kane apart from other films.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Symbolism has an enormous role in this film. â€Å"Rosebud† is the last word uttered by Cane. He then dies and takes his secret to the death. The film follows one reporter on his search to the truth. Throughout the film, the tragical existence of powerful newspaper tycoon Charles Foster Kane, becomes apparent. He spends most of his life in solitude. Although he was married twice, he always stayed alone. This was because of his incapacity of felling love, which was caused by his insecure childhood. Kane was unwillingly taken away from his mother as a young child; this s...

The Host Chapter 38: Touched

â€Å"What do I think about what?† â€Å"About our†¦ discussion out there,† Ian clarified. What did I think about it? I didn't know. Somehow, Ian was able to look at things from my perspective, my alien perspective. He thought I had earned a right to my life. But he was†¦ jealous? Of Jared? He knew what I was. He knew I was just a tiny creature fused into the back of Melanie's brain. A worm, as Kyle had said. Yet even Kyle thought Ian had a â€Å"crush† on me. On me? That wasn't possible. Or did he want to know what I thought about Jared? My feelings on the experiment? More details about my responses to physical contact? I shuddered. Or my thoughts on Melanie? Melanie's thoughts on their conversation? Whether I agreed with Jared about her rights? I didn't know what I thought. About any of it. â€Å"I really don't know,† I said. He nodded. â€Å"That's understandable.† â€Å"Only because you are very understanding.† He smiled at me. It was odd how his eyes could both scorch and warm. Especially with a color that was closer to ice than fire. They were quite warm at the moment. â€Å"I like you very much, Wanda.† â€Å"I'm only just beginning to see that. I guess I'm a little slow.† â€Å"It's a surprise to me, too.† We both thought that over. He pursed his lips. â€Å"And†¦ I suppose†¦ that is one of the things you don't know how you feel about?† â€Å"No. I mean yes, I†¦ don't know. I†¦ I -â€Å" â€Å"That's okay. You haven't had long to think about it. And it must seem†¦ strange.† I nodded. â€Å"Yes. More than strange. Impossible.† â€Å"Tell me something,† Ian said after a moment. â€Å"If I know the answer.† â€Å"It's not a hard question.† He didn't ask it right away. Instead, he reached across the narrow space and picked up my hand. He held it in both of his for a moment, and then he trailed the fingers of his left hand slowly up my arm, from my wrist to my shoulder. Just as slowly, he pulled them back again. He looked at the skin of my arm rather than my face, watching the goose bumps that formed along the path of his fingers. â€Å"Does that feel good or bad to you?† he asked. Bad, Melanie insisted. But it doesn't hurt, I protested. That's not what he's asking. When he says good†¦ Oh, it's like talking to a child! I'm not even a year old, you know. Or am I now? I was sidetracked, trying to figure out the date. Melanie was not distracted. Good, to him, means the way it feels when Jared touches us. The memory she provided was not one from the caves. It was in the magic canyon, at sunset. Jared stood behind her and let his hands follow the shape of her arms, from her shoulders to her wrists. I shivered at the pleasure of the simple touch. Like that. Oh. â€Å"Wanda?† â€Å"Melanie says bad,† I whispered. â€Å"What do you say?† â€Å"I say†¦ I don't know.† When I could meet his eyes, they were warmer than I expected. â€Å"I can't even imagine how confusing this all must be to you.† It was comforting that he understood. â€Å"Yes. I'm confused.† His hand traced up and down my arm again. â€Å"Would you like me to stop?† I hesitated. â€Å"Yes,† I decided. â€Å"That†¦ what you're doing†¦ makes it hard for me to think. And Melanie is†¦ angry at me. That also makes it hard to think.† I'm not angry at you. Tell him to leave. Ian is my friend. I don't want him to leave. He leaned away, folding his arms across his chest. â€Å"I don't suppose she'd give us a minute alone?† I laughed. â€Å"I doubt it.† Ian tilted his head to one side, his expression speculative. â€Å"Melanie Stryder?† he asked, addressing her. We both started at the name. Ian went on. â€Å"I'd like the chance to speak with Wanda privately, if you don't mind. Is there any way that could be arranged?† Of all the nerve! You tell him I said no chance in hell! I do not like this man. My nose wrinkled up. â€Å"What did she say?† â€Å"She said no.† I tried to say the words as gently as they could be said. â€Å"And that she doesn't†¦ like you.† Ian laughed. â€Å"I can respect that. I can respect her. Well, it was worth a try.† He sighed. â€Å"Kind of puts a damper on things, having an audience.† What things? Mel growled. I grimaced. I didn't like feeling her anger. It was so much more vicious than mine. Get used to it. Ian put his hand on my face. â€Å"I'll let you think about things, okay? So you can decide how you feel.† I tried to be objective about that hand. It was soft against my face. It felt†¦ nice. Not like when Jared touched me. But also different from the way it felt when Jamie hugged me. Other. â€Å"It might take a while. None of this makes any sense, you know,† I told him. He grinned. â€Å"I know.† I realized, when he smiled then, that I wanted him to like me. The rest-the hand on my face, the fingers on my arm-I still wasn't sure at all about those. But I wanted him to like me, and to think kind things about me. Which is why it was hard to tell him the truth. â€Å"You don't really feel that way about me, you know,† I whispered. â€Å"It's this body†¦ She's pretty, isn't she?† He nodded. â€Å"She is. Melanie is a very pretty girl. Even beautiful.† His hand moved to touch my bad cheek, to stroke the rough, scarring skin with gentle fingers. â€Å"In spite of what I've done to her face.† Normally, I would have denied that automatically. Reminded him that the wounds on my face weren't his fault. But I was so confused that my head was spinning and I couldn't form a coherent sentence. Why should it bother me that he thought Melanie was beautiful? You've got me there. My feelings were no clearer to her than they were to me. He brushed my hair back from my forehead. â€Å"But, pretty as she is, she's a stranger to me. She's not the one I†¦ care about.† That made me feel better. Which was even more confusing. â€Å"Ian, you don't†¦ Nobody here separates us the way they should. Not you, not Jamie, not Jeb.† The truth came out in a rush, more heated than I'd meant it to be. â€Å"You couldn't care about me. If you could hold me in your hand, me, you would be disgusted. You would throw me to the ground and grind me under your foot.† His pale forehead creased as his black brows pulled together. â€Å"I†¦ not if I knew it was you.† I laughed without humor. â€Å"How would you know? You couldn't tell us apart.† His mouth turned down. â€Å"It's just the body,† I repeated. â€Å"That's not true at all,† he disagreed. â€Å"It's not the face, but the expressions on it. It's not the voice, but what you say. It's not how you look in that body, but the things you do with it. You are beautiful.† He moved forward as he spoke, kneeling beside the bed where I lay and taking my hand again in both of his. â€Å"I've never known anyone like you.† I sighed. â€Å"Ian, what if I'd come here in Magnolia's body?† He grimaced and then laughed. â€Å"Okay. That's a good question. I don't know.† â€Å"Or Wes's?† â€Å"But you're female-you yourself are.† â€Å"And I always request whatever a planet's equivalent is. It seems more†¦ right. But I could be put into a man and I would function just fine.† â€Å"But you're not in a man's body.† â€Å"See? That's my point. Body and soul. Two different things, in my case.† â€Å"I wouldn't want it without you.† â€Å"You wouldn't want me without it.† He touched my cheek again and left his hand there, his thumb under my jaw. â€Å"But this body is part of you, too. It's part of who you are. And, unless you change your mind and turn us all in, it's who you will always be.† Ah, the finality of it. Yes, I would die in this body. The final death. And I will never live in it again, Melanie whispered. It's not how either of us planned our future, is it? No. Neither of us planned to have no future. â€Å"Another internal conversation?† Ian guessed. â€Å"We're thinking of our mortality.† â€Å"You could live forever if you left us.† â€Å"Yes, I could.† I sighed. â€Å"You know, humans have the shortest life span of any species I've ever been, except the Spiders. You have so little time.† â€Å"Don't you think, then†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Ian paused and leaned closer to me so that I couldn't seem to see anything around his face, just snow and sapphire and ink. â€Å"That maybe you should make the most of what time you have? That you should live while you're alive?† I didn't see it coming the way I had with Jared. Ian was not as familiar to me. Melanie realized what he was going to do before I did, just a second before his lips touched mine. No! It wasn't like kissing Jared. With Jared, there was no thought, only desire. No control. A spark to gasoline-inevitable. With Ian, I didn't even know what I felt. Everything was muddled and confused. His lips were soft and warm. He pressed them only lightly to mine, and then brushed them back and forth across my mouth. â€Å"Good or bad?† he whispered against my lips. Bad! Bad, bad! â€Å"I-I can't think.† When I moved my mouth to speak, he moved his with it. â€Å"That sounds†¦ good.† His mouth pressed down with more force now. He caught my lower lip between his and pulled on it gently. Melanie wanted to hit him-so much more than she'd wanted to punch Jared. She wanted to shove him away and then kick his face. The image was horrible. It conflicted jarringly with the sensation of Ian's kiss. â€Å"Please,† I whispered. â€Å"Yes?† â€Å"Please stop. I can't think. Please.† He sat back at once, clasping his hands in front of him. â€Å"Okay,† he said, his tone cautious. I pressed my hands against my face, wishing I could push out Melanie's anger. â€Å"Well, at least nobody punched me.† Ian grinned. â€Å"She wanted to do more than that. Ugh. I don't like it when she's mad. It hurts my head. Anger is so†¦ ugly.† â€Å"Why didn't she?† â€Å"Because I didn't lose control. She only breaks free when I'm†¦ overwhelmed.† He watched as I kneaded my forehead. Calm down, I begged her. He's not touching me. Has he forgotten that I'm here? Doesn't he care? This is me, it's me! I tried to explain that. What about you? Have you forgotten Jared? She threw the memories at me the way she'd done in the beginning, only this time they were like blows. A thousand punches of his smile, his eyes, his lips on mine, his hands on my skin†¦ Of course not. Have you forgotten that you don't want me to love him? â€Å"She's talking to you.† â€Å"Yelling at me,† I corrected. â€Å"I can tell now. I can see you concentrate on the conversation. I never noticed before today.† â€Å"She's not always this vocal.† â€Å"I am sorry, Melanie,† he said. â€Å"I know this must be impossible for you.† Again, she visualized smashing her foot into his sculpted nose, leaving it crooked like Kyle's. Tell him I don't want his apologies. I winced. Ian half smiled, half grimaced. â€Å"She doesn't accept.† I shook my head. â€Å"So she can break free? If you're overwhelmed?† I shrugged. â€Å"Sometimes, if she takes me by surprise and I'm too†¦ emotional. Emotion makes it hard to concentrate. But it's been more difficult for her lately. It's like the door between us is locked. I don't know why. I tried to let her out when Kyle -† I stopped talking abruptly, grinding my teeth together. â€Å"When Kyle tried to kill you,† he finished matter-of-factly. â€Å"You wanted her free? Why?† I just stared at him. â€Å"To fight him?† he guessed. I didn't answer. He sighed. â€Å"Okay. Don't tell me. Why do you think the†¦ door is locked?† I frowned. â€Å"I don't know. Maybe the time passing†¦ It worries us.† â€Å"But she broke through before, to punch Jared.† â€Å"Yes.† I shuddered at the memory of my fist striking his jaw. â€Å"Because you were overwhelmed and emotional?† â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"What did he do? Just kiss you?† I nodded. Ian flinched. His eyes tightened. â€Å"What?† I asked. â€Å"What's wrong?† â€Å"When Jared kisses you, you are†¦ overwhelmed by emotion.† I stared at him, worried by the expression on his face. Melanie enjoyed it. That's right! He sighed. â€Å"And when I kiss you†¦ you aren't sure if you like it. You are not†¦ overwhelmed.† â€Å"Oh.† Ian was jealous. How very strange this world was. â€Å"I'm sorry.† â€Å"Don't be. I told you I'd give you time, and I don't mind waiting for you to think things through. I don't mind that at all.† â€Å"What do you mind?† Because he minded something very much. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. â€Å"I saw how you loved Jamie. That was always really obvious. I guess I should have seen that you loved Jared, too. Maybe I didn't want to. It makes sense. You came here for the two of them. You love them both, the same way Melanie did. Jamie like a brother. And Jared†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He was looking away, staring at the wall over me. I had to look away, too. I stared at the sunlight where it touched the red door. â€Å"How much of that is Melanie?† he wanted to know. â€Å"I don't know. Does it matter?† I could barely hear his answer. â€Å"Yes. It does to me.† Without looking at me or seeming to notice what he was doing, Ian took my hand again. It was very quiet for a minute. Even Melanie was still. That was nice. Then, as though a switch had been flipped, Ian was his normal self again. He laughed. â€Å"Time is on my side,† he said, grinning. â€Å"We've got the rest of our lives in here. One day you'll wonder what you ever saw in Jared.† In your dreams. I laughed with him, happy he was joking again. â€Å"Wanda? Wanda, can I come in?† Jamie's voice started from down the hall and, accompanied by the sound of his jogging steps, ended right outside the door. â€Å"Of course, Jamie.† I already had my hand held out to him before he shrugged the door aside. I hadn't seen him nearly enough lately. Unconscious or crippled, I hadn't been free to seek him out. â€Å"Hey, Wanda! Hey, Ian!† Jamie was all grins, his messy hair bouncing when he moved. He headed for my reaching hand, but Ian was in his way. So he settled for sitting on the edge of my mattress and resting his hand on my foot. â€Å"How are you feeling?† â€Å"Better.† â€Å"Hungry yet? There's beef jerky and corn on the cob! I could get you some.† â€Å"I'm okay for now. How are you? I haven't seen you much lately.† Jamie made a face. â€Å"Sharon gave me detention.† I smiled. â€Å"What did you do?† â€Å"Nothing. I was totally framed.† His innocent expression was a bit overdone, and he quickly changed the subject. â€Å"Guess what? Jared was saying at lunch that he didn't think it was fair for you to have to move out of the room you were used to. He said we weren't being good hosts. He said you should move back in with me! Isn't that great? I asked him if I could tell you right away, and he said that was a good idea. He said you would be in here.† â€Å"I'll bet he did,† Ian murmured. â€Å"So what do you think, Wanda? We get to be roomies again!† â€Å"But Jamie, where will Jared stay?† â€Å"Wait-let me guess,† Ian interrupted. â€Å"I bet he said the room was big enough for three. Am I right?† â€Å"Yeah. How did you know?† â€Å"Lucky guess.† â€Å"So that's good, isn't it, Wanda? It will be just like before we came here!† It felt sort of like a razor sliding between my ribs when he said that-too clean and precise a pain to be compared to a blow or a break. Jamie analyzed my tortured expression with alarm. â€Å"Oh. No, I mean but with you, too. It will be nice. The four of us, right?† I tried to laugh through the pain; it didn't hurt any worse than not laughing. Ian squeezed my hand. â€Å"The four of us,† I mumbled. â€Å"Nice.† Jamie crawled up the mattress, worming his way around Ian, to put his arms around my neck. â€Å"Sorry. Don't be sad.† â€Å"Don't worry about it.† â€Å"You know I love you, too.† So sharp, so piercing, the emotions of this planet. Jamie had never said those words to me before. My whole body suddenly felt a few degrees warmer. So sharp, Melanie agreed, wincing at her own pain. â€Å"Will you come back?† Jamie begged against my shoulder. I couldn't answer right away. â€Å"What does Mel want?† he asked. â€Å"She wants to live with you,† I whispered. I didn't have to check to know that. â€Å"And what do you want?† â€Å"Do you want me to live with you?† â€Å"You know I do, Wanda. Please.† I hesitated. â€Å"Please?† â€Å"If that's what you want, Jamie. Okay.† â€Å"Woo hoo!† Jamie crowed in my ear. â€Å"Cool! I'm gonna go tell Jared! I'll get you some food, too, okay?† He was already on his feet, bouncing the mattress so that I felt it in my ribs. â€Å"Okay.† â€Å"You want something, Ian?† â€Å"Sure, kid. I want you to tell Jared he's shameless.† â€Å"Huh?† â€Å"Never mind. Go get Wanda some lunch.† â€Å"Sure. And I'll ask Wes for his extra bed. Kyle can come back in here, and everything will be like it should be!† â€Å"Perfect,† Ian said, and though I didn't look at his face, I knew he was rolling his eyes. â€Å"Perfect,† I whispered, and felt the razor's edge again.

Fluke, or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings Chapter 35~36

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE Yeah, but You Can't Dance to It The Colonel was standing in the middle of the mother-of-pearl amphitheater when the whaley boys led Nate in. â€Å"You two go on now,† the Colonel said to the whaley boys. â€Å"Nate can find his way back.† â€Å"You came out of your lair,† Nate said. The Colonel looked older, more drawn than when Nate had seen him before. â€Å"I don't want to be in contact with the Goo for what I'm going to tell you.† â€Å"I thought it didn't get information that way,† Nate said. The Colonel ignored him. â€Å"I was hoping you would have had a brainstorm to solve my problem, Nate, but you haven't, have you?† â€Å"I'm working on it. It's more complex –  » â€Å"You've been distracted. I'm disappointed, but I understand. She's a piece of work, isn't she? And I mean that in the best sense of the word. Never forget that I chose to send her to you.† Nate wondered how much the Colonel knew about them and how he knew it. Reports from the whaley boys? From the Goo itself, through osmosis or some extended nervous system? â€Å"Distraction has nothing to do with it. I've thought a lot about your problem, and I'm not sure I agree with you. What makes you think the Goo is going to destroy humanity?† â€Å"It's a matter of time. That's all. I need you to carry a message for me, Nate. You'll be responsible for saving the human race. That should go some measure toward consoling you.† â€Å"Colonel, is there any chance you can be more direct, less cryptic, and tell me for once what the hell you're talking about?† â€Å"I want you to go to the U.S. Navy. They need to know about the threat of the Goo. One well-placed nuclear torpedo should do it. It's deep enough that they shouldn't have any problem justifying it to other countries. There won't be any fallout. They're just going to need someone credible to convince them of the threat. You.† â€Å"What about the people down here? I thought you wanted to save them.† â€Å"I'm afraid they're going to be a necessary sacrifice, Nate. What are five thousand or so people, most of whom have lived longer than they would have on the surface, compared with the whole human race, six billion?† â€Å"You crazy bastard! I'm not going to try to convince the navy to nuke five thousand people and all the whaley boys as well. And you're more deluded than I thought if you think they'd do it on my word.† â€Å"Oh, I don't expect that. I expect they'll send down their own research team to confirm what you tell them, but when they get here, I'll see to it that they get the message that the Goo is a threat. In any case you'll survive.† â€Å"I think you're wrong about the Goo finding us dangerous. And even if you were right, what if it just decides to wait us out? On the Goo's time scale, it can just take a nap until we're extinct. I'm not doing it.† â€Å"I'm sorry you feel that way, Nate. I guess I'll have to find another way.† Nate suddenly realized that he'd blown it – his chance to escape. Once he was outside Gooville, there would have been nothing to force him to do what the Colonel wanted. Or maybe there would be. Right then he wanted very badly to see Amy. â€Å"Look, Colonel, maybe I can do something. Couldn't you just evacuate Gooville? Drop all the people on an island. Let the whaley boys find somewhere else to live. I mean, if I reveal the Goo to the world, it's all sort of going to be out of the bag anyway. I mean –  » â€Å"I'm sorry, Nate, I don't believe you. I'll take care of it. Evacuation wouldn't make any difference to the people here anyway. And the whaley boys shouldn't exist in the first place. They're an abomination.† â€Å"An abomination? That's not the scientist I knew talking.† â€Å"Oh, I admit that they are fabulous creatures, but they would have never evolved naturally. They are a product of this war, and their purpose has been served. As has mine, as has yours. I'm sorry we didn't see eye to eye on this. Go now.† Just like that, this crazy bastard was going to plan B, and Nate had no idea how to stop him. Maybe that was what he was really brought here for. Maybe the Colonel was like someone who makes a suicide attempt as a cry for help, rather than an earnest attempt to end his life. And Nate had missed it. He started to back away from the Colonel, desperately trying to think of something he could say to change the situation, but nothing was coming to him. When he reached the passageway, the Colonel called out to him from the steps by the giant iris. â€Å"Nate. I promised you, and you deserve to know.† Nate turned and came a few steps back into the room. The Colonel smiled, a sad smile, resolved. â€Å"It's a prayer, Nate. The humpback song is a prayer to the source, to their god. The song is in praise of and in thanks to the Goo.† Nate considered it. A life's work contemplating a question, and this was the answer? No way. â€Å"Why only male singers, then?† â€Å"Well, they're males. They're praying for sex, too, aren't they? The females choose the mates – they don't need to ask.† â€Å"There's no way to prove that,† Nate said. â€Å"And no one to prove it to, Nate, not down here, but it's the truth. Whale song was the first culture, the first art on this planet, and, like most of human art, it celebrates that which is greater than the artist. And the Goo likes it, Nate, it likes it.† â€Å"I don't believe it. There's no evolutionary pressure for it to be prayer.† â€Å"It's a meme, Nate, not a gene. The song is learned behavior, not passed by birth. It has its own agenda: to be replicated, imitated. And it was reinforced. Have you ever seen a starved humpback, Nate?† Nate thought about it. He'd seen sick animals, and injured animals, but he'd never seen a starved humpback. Nor had he ever heard of one. The Colonel must have seen something in Nate's reaction. â€Å"There's your reinforcement. The Goo looks after them, Nate. It likes the song. I wouldn't be surprised if all of whale evolution – size, for instance – was accelerated by the Goo. We should have never started killing them. We wouldn't be at this juncture if we hadn't killed them.† â€Å"But we've stopped,† was all that Nate could think to say. â€Å"Too late,† the Colonel said with a sigh. â€Å"Our mistake was getting the Goo's attention. Now it has to end. The gene has had its three and a half billion years as the driving force of life. I suppose now the meme will have its turn. You and I will never know. Good-bye, Nate.† The iris opened, and the Colonel walked into the Goo. Nate ran all the way home, not sure how he had navigated through the labyrinth of tunnels, but found his way without having to backtrack. Amy wasn't at his apartment. His pulse was throbbing in his temples as he approached the buzzy, bug-winged speaky thing to try to call her, but he decided instead to go directly to her on foot. He checked at her place, and then at her mother's, then at every place they'd ever been together. Not only was Amy gone, but no one had seen her mother either. Nate slept fitfully, tortured by the notion of what the Colonel might have done to Amy because of his own stubbornness. In the morning he went searching for her again, asking everyone he encountered, including the whaley boys by the bakery, but no one had seen her. On the second day he went back through the corridors to the Colonel's mother-of-pearl amphitheater and pounded on the giant black iris until his fists were bruised. There was no response but a dull thud that echoed in the huge empty chamber. â€Å"I'll do what you want, Ryder!† Nate screamed. â€Å"Don't hurt her, you crazy fuck! I'll do what you want. I'll bring the navy down on this place and sterilize it, if that's what you want – just give her back.† When at last he gave up, he turned and slid down the iris facing the amphitheater. There were six killer-whale-colored whaley boys standing in the passageway opposite him, watching. They weren't grinning or snickering for once – just watching him. The largest of them, a female, let loose a quick whistle, and they crossed the amphitheater, walking in a crescent-shaped hunting formation toward him. Short of being a professional surfer or a bong test pilot for the Rastafarian air force, Kona thought he had found the perfect job. He sat in a comfortable chair watching sound spectrograms scroll across one computer monitor, while on another a program picked out the digital sequence in the subsonic signal and broke it into text. All Kona had to do was watch for something meaningful to come across the screen. Strange thing was, he really had started to learn about spectrographs and waveforms and all manner of whale behavior, and he was meeting the day feeling as if he was really doing something. He ran his hand over his scalp and shuddered as he read the nonsense text that was scrolling across the window. Auntie Clair had bought him four forties of Old English 800 malt liquor, then waited until he'd drunk them, before persuading him to let her cut his dreads down so they matched on both sides (because his true natural state should be one of balance, she said. She was tricky, Auntie Clair). The problem was, in jail his dreads had been almost completely torn off on one side, so by the time she finished evening things out, he was pretty much bald. Out of deference to his religious beliefs (to allow him a reservoir for his abundant strength in Jah, mon), Clair had left him a single dread anchored low on the back of his head, which made it look as if a fat worm was exiting his skull after a hearty meal of brain cells in ganja sauce. And speaking of the sacred herb, Kona was just on the verge of sparking up a bubbling smoky scuba snack of the dankest and skunkingish nugs when the text scrolling across the screen ceased being nonsense and started being important. He took a quick sip of bong water to steady his nerves, placed the sacred vessel on the floor at his feet, then hit the key that sent the streaming text to the printer. He stood and waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet for the printer to expectorate three sheets of text, then snatched the pages and dashed out the door to Clay's cabin. â€Å"I must be out of my mind,† Clay said. His suitcase was on the bed, and he was taking clothes out of the drawers and putting them into the case, while Clair was taking clothes out of the case, grouping them by a precise system he would never understand, and replacing them in the suitcase so that he would never find anything until he returned home and she helped him unpack. They had done this a lot. â€Å"I must be nuts,† Clay said. â€Å"I can't just go wandering around the oceans randomly looking for a lost friend. I'll look like that little bird in the book, the one that walks around asking everyone, ‘Are you my mother? ; â€Å"Sartre's Being and Nothingness?† Clair offered. â€Å"Right. That's the one. It's ridiculous to even leave port until we have something to go on – steaming around, burning up fifty gallons of fuel an hour. The Old Broad may have money stashed, but she doesn't have that kind of money.† â€Å"Well, maybe something will turn up in the whale calls.† â€Å"I hope. Libby and Margaret have a lot of sonic data streaming in from Newport, but it's still like looking for a needle in a haystack. Clair, she saw guys climbing into a whale –  » â€Å"So, baby, what's the worst that happens? You go to sea and do your best to find Nate and you fail? How many people ever did their best at anything? You can always sell the ship later. Where is it now anyway?† Just then the screen door fired back on its hinges and smacked against the outside wall with the report of a rifle shot. Kona came tumbling through the door waving pages of copy paper as if they were white flags and he was surrendering to everyone in the general Maui area. â€Å"Bwana Clay!† Kona threw the pages down on Clay's suitcase. â€Å"It's the Snowy Biscuit!† Clay picked up the pages, looked at them quickly, and handed one to Clair. Over and over the message was repeated: 41.93625S__76.17328W__-623__CLAY U R NOT NUTS__AMY Clay looked at Kona. â€Å"This was imbedded in the whale song.† â€Å"Yah, mon. Blue whale, I think. Just came in.† â€Å"Go back and see if there's more. And find the big world map. It's in the storeroom somewhere.† â€Å"Aye, aye,† said Kona, who had begun to speak much more nautically since Clay had purchased the ship, making his bid to go along on the voyage to search for Nate. He ran back to the office. â€Å"You think it's from Amy?† Clair said. â€Å"I think it's either from Amy or from someone who knows everything about what we're doing, which means it would have to be someone Amy talked to.† â€Å"What are the numbers?† â€Å"A longitude and a latitude. I'll have to look at the map, but it's somewhere in the South Pacific.† â€Å"I know it's a longitude and a latitude, Clay, but what's the minus six hundred and some?† â€Å"It's where pilots usually express altitude.† â€Å"But it's a minus.† â€Å"Yep.† Clay snatched the phone off of his night table and dialed the Old Broad as Clair looked quizzically at him. â€Å"Equipment change,† he whispered to Clair, covering the receiver with his hand. â€Å"Hello, Elizabeth, yes, things are going really well. Yes, they've picked up considerably. Yes. Look, I hate to ask this – I know you've done so much – but I may need one other little thing before we go to look for Nate and your James.† Clair shook her head at Clay's blatant playing of the missing-husband-shoved-up-a-whale's-bum card. â€Å"Yes, well, it may be a little expensive,† Clay continued. â€Å"But I'm going to need a submarine. No, a small submarine will be fine. If you want it to be yellow, Elizabeth, we'll paint it yellow.† After fifteen minutes of cajoling and consoling the Old Broad, making calls to Libby Quinn and the ship broker in Singapore (who offered him a quantity discount if he bought more than three ships in one month), Clay stood over a world map that was roughly the size of a Ping-Pong table, which Kona had spread out over the office floor, pinning the corners down with coffee cups. â€Å"It's right there, off the coast of Chile,† Clair said. She taught fourth-graders, and therefore basic world geography, so she could read a map like nobody's business. Kona placed a bottle cap on the spot where Clair was pointing. â€Å"We'll need nautical charts and the ship's GPS to be exact, but, basically, yep, that's where it is.† He looked at Kona. â€Å"Nothing else since that message?† â€Å"Same thing for five minutes, then just normal whale gibberish. You think the Snowy Biscuit is with Nate?† â€Å"I think she knew me well enough to know that I'd be thinking I was crazy to be looking. I also think that even if I believe the Old Broad's story about her husband, that doesn't explain how Amy was able to stay down for an hour on fifteen minutes' worth of air, so there was something going on with her that could be connected to this weirdness. She obviously knows more than we know, but – most important – we have nowhere else to look.† Kona looked at Clair, as if maybe she would answer his question. She nodded, and he resumed drinking his beer. Clay got down on his hands and knees on the map. â€Å"The ship broker says there's a deepwater three-man sub here, in Chuuk, Micronesia, that's about to finish up with some filming they're doing of deep shipwrecks.† Kona put a bottle cap on the atoll of Chuuk, Micronesia. â€Å"The owners will let me lease it for up to two months, but then a research team has it reserved for a deepwater survey in the Indian Ocean. The Clair is here, just north of Samoa.† Clay pointed. Kona put a third bottle cap just north of Samoa and did his best to drink off that beer while balancing the other two that he'd opened to get the caps. â€Å"So the Clair can probably be in Chuuk in three days. I'll fly in and meet them, pick up the sub, and then we can probably steam to these co-ordinates in four or five days if we cruise at top speed,† Clay said. â€Å"Now we're here –  » â€Å"We can't be, we can't be there,† said Kona. â€Å"Why not?† â€Å"Out of beers.† â€Å"So you get to that spot. Then what?† Clair asked. â€Å"Then I get in a submarine and see what there is to see six hundred and twenty-three feet down.† â€Å"So we're sure it's feet, not meters?† â€Å"No. I'm not sure.† â€Å"Well, I just want you to know that I am not comfortable with you doing this sort of thing, Clay.† â€Å"But I've always done this sort of thing. I sort of do this sort of thing for a living.† â€Å"So what's your point?† Clair asked. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Black and White and Red All Over Once, off the coast of California, Nate had followed a pod of killer whales as they attacked a mother gray whale and her calf. They first approached in formation to separate the calf from the mother, and then, as one group broke from the pod to keep the mother busy, the others took turns leaping upon the calf's back to drown it – even as the mother thrashed her great tail and circled back, trying to protect her calf. The whole hunt had taken more than six hours, and when it ended, finally, the killer whales took turns hitting the exhausted calf, keeping in a perfect formation even as they ripped great chunks of flesh from its still-living body. Now, in the amphitheater, as the killer whaley boys approached – their teeth flashing, the breath from their blowholes puffing like steam engines – the biologist thought that he was probably experiencing exactly what that gray-whale calf had during that gruesome hunt. Except, of course, that Nate was wearing sneakers , and gray whales almost never did. It was a big room. He had space to move. He just had to get around them. His sneakers squeaked on the floor as he came down the steps, faked right, then went left at a full sprint. The whaley boys, while amazingly agile in the water, were somewhat clumsy on land. Half of them fell for the fake so badly that they'd need a postcard to tell them how it all came out. They stooged into a whaley pile near the steps. The remaining three pursuers tried to fan out into a new formation, the alpha female coming the closest to getting between Nate and the exit. Nate was running in a wide arc around the amphitheater now, and by virtue of sheer speed he could tell he'd beat at least two of the remaining killers, but the alpha female was going to intersect with him before he got clear. She probably weighed three times what he did, so there was no going though her with a vicious body check. Maybe if he'd been on skates, he'd have tried it: pit his pure, innate Canadian skating force against her paltry cetacean hunting instinct and drive that bitch to the mother of pearl. But there were no skates, no ice, so at the very last second, as the female was about to slam him in a bone-breaking crunch against one of the benches that lined the walls, Nate pulled a spin fake, a move that was much more Boitano than Gretzky but nevertheless sent the big female tumbling over a bench in a tangle of black-and-white and i vory – like a flaccid piano botching the vaulting horse. Nate high-stepped the last twenty yards to the door, thinking, Yeah, three million years of walking upright not for nothing. Rookie. Meat. About the third step into his jubilation, Nate heard the sound of a great expulsion of air from his right, then a wet splat. Suddenly he saw his sneakers waving before his face. He felt the freedom of weightlessness, the exhilaration of flight, and then it was all gone as he slammed to the floor, knocking the wind out of himself. He slid to a stop in the huge loogie of whale spit that one of the trailing males had expectorated at his feet. Had he been able to breathe, he might have called a foul, but instead he struggled to get to his feet as the two males closed on him, showing dagger-toothed grins as they approached. Oh, my God, they're going to eat me! he thought, but then he saw that they both had unsheathed their long pink penises and were leading with a sort of a pelvic thrust. Oh, my God, they're going to fuck me! he thought. But when they got to him, one picked him up by the arms and bent him over forward, and he felt the great teeth scraping his scalp as his head slipped int o the whaley boy's mouth. No, they're definitely going to eat me, Nate thought. And in that suspension of time, right before the final crunch, amid the slow motion of an infinite last moment, clarity came to him, even as he screamed, and he thought, This is probably not going to go as well as the last time I was eaten. There's probably not going to be a girl at the end of this one. And then the female whistled shrilly, and the male stopped biting down just as his teeth were starting to cut into Nate's cheeks. The biting male pulled back and apologetically wiped saliva and blood from Nate's face, then propped him up and fluffed him a little, as if to show that he was good as new. Nate was still being held fast by the other male, but the biter was grinning sheepishly at the alpha female and making a squeaking noise that Nate, even with his limited understanding of whaleyspeak, understood as meaning â€Å"oops.† A half hour later they threw him into his apartment, and the alpha female grinned at him as she tore the stainless-steel doorknob out of the wall. The wall bled for a while after she left, then clotted over and rapidly began to heal. Nate stumbled into his bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. There were bloody gashes down his forehead and cheeks. In another place and time, he realized, he would have gone to the emergency room to get stitched up. His hair was matted with blood, and he could feel at least four deep dents in his scalp where the whaley boy's teeth had broken the skin. There was a large knot at the back of his head where he'd hit the floor when he fell, and evidently he'd hit an elbow, too, because every time he bent his right arm, a sharp, biting pain shot all the way down to his fingertips. He pulled off his bloodstained clothes and climbed into the shower. Then, ignoring the strange fixtures that usually gave him pause, he leaned against the shower walls and let the water run over him until the bloody crust was gone from his hair and his fingers had shriveled with the moisture. He dried himself, then collapsed into his bed, wishing for a last time before he fell asleep that Amy was there, safe, next to him. He slept deeply and dreamed of a time when all the oceans were filled with a single living organism, wrapped like a cocoon around a single huge land mass. And in his dream he could feel the texture of every shore as if it were pressed against his skin. Nate awoke in the early hours before light came up in the grotto. He went into his living room and sat in the dark by the big oval picture window that looked out over the street and, ultimately, the Gooville harbor. There were shapes out there moving in the dark. Every now and then he'd catch the reflection of some dim light on a whaley boy's skin, but mostly he could tell they were out there by the sonar clicks that echoed around the grotto and by the low, trilling whistles of whaley-boy conversation. After an hour sitting there in the dark, he padded to the door and tried to open it. There was nothing but a smooth scar where the doorknob had been. The seal around the door was so tight it might have been part of the walls that framed it. In trying to work his fingers into the doorjamb, he realized that his elbow wasn't grating as it had been when he went to bed. He reached up to touch the gashes across his forehead and felt the scab flake away as easily and painlessly as dry skin. He immediately went to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror under the bright yellow bioluminescence. The gashes were healed. Completely healed. He brushed away the dried blood that had seeped after his shower to find new, healthy skin. It was the same with the dents in his scalp and the great goose egg at the base of his skull. He didn't even have a sore spot. He returned to the living room, fell into the chair by the window, and watched the light come up in the grotto. Outside, there was a lot of movement in the street and the harbor, and, watching it, Nate started to feel sick to his stomach, despite his miraculous healing. All the movement outside was that of whaley boys. There wasn't a single human out there anywhere. For two days he didn't see any other humans in Gooville, and even when he had screwed up his courage to use the buzzy, bug-winged speaky thing on the wall, he realized that he had no idea how to make it connect. By noon on the third day, he decided that he had to get out of the apartment. Not only couldn't he find Amy or do anything else while in here, but he was rapidly running out of food. He reasoned that the best time to make a break for it was in the middle of the day, when it seemed that the number of whaley boys out on the street was sparsest, because so many of them went down to the water at that time to swim. He dressed in long pants and sleeves for protection, then made the first attempt at the window. He tore one of the bone chairs from the floor in the kitchen, wiggling it first, as if loosening a baby tooth. He cast the chair at the center of the window with all his strength, preparing as he did to make the ten-foot leap to the street when it went though. But it didn't. It bounced back into the room. Next he looked for something sharp to try to puncture the window, but the only thing he could come up with were shards of the mirror in the bathroom, and although the mirror spider-webbed when he struck it, his fist wrapped in a towel, the shards stayed adhered to the bathroom wall, so all he'd really done was create a shiny mosaic. Finally, frustrated after three hours of ineffective attacks on the big window, he decided to hit it with the heaviest thing in the apartment: his body. He backed into the bedroom, sped through the living room, leaped into the air about halfway across, curled into a ball, and braced for impact. The window bulged out about three feet, until it appeared to the whaley boys outside that someone inside was trying to blow a giant bubble, and then it sprang back, trampolining Nate across the room into the far wall. At the bottom of the wall someone had installed a couch for just such an emergency, and Nate slid neatly into it with his newly flattened side down. â€Å"Well, that was just stupid,† he said aloud. â€Å"Boy, that was stupid,† Cielle Nuà ±ez said. She came into the living room and sat in a chair across from where Nate was piled onto the couch. â€Å"You want to tell me what in the hell you started?† â€Å"How did you get in? The knob is gone.† â€Å"Not on the outside. Come on, Nate, what did you do? Every human in Gooville has been locked down for the last three days. If I weren't the captain of a whale ship, I wouldn't have been able to come here either.† â€Å"I didn't do anything, Cielle, honestly. Where's Amy?† â€Å"No one knows. Believe me, that was the first place they went.† â€Å"Who?† â€Å"Who do you think? The whaley boys. They've taken over everything. Humans aren't even allowed near the ships. Ever since some of them heard you yelling about bringing the navy down here.† â€Å"I was. He has Amy, Cielle. I was just trying to get her back.† â€Å"Him? The Colonel? Why would he take Amy? She's one of the few who've ever even seen him. She's a favorite.† â€Å"Yeah, well no one is his favorite now.† Right then Nate made a decision. He wasn't going to get out of this place on his own, and the only person he could even consider an ally was sitting right there in front of him. â€Å"Cielle, the reason the Colonel called your ships back, the reason no one is allowed to leave the harbor, is that he wants you all here when the place comes down. He's got some plan to get the U.S. Navy, or somebody's navy, to attack Gooville with a nuclear torpedo. He thinks that the Goo is going to destroy the human race if he doesn't destroy it first. He wanted me to go to the navy. He thought I could convince them of the threat because of my scientific credibility, but I said no. That's when he took Amy.† â€Å"So all that yelling I heard you doing in the amphitheater – that wasn't you talking about bringing the navy here, that was just you trying to get Amy back?† â€Å"Yes. He's a loon, Cielle. I don't have any interest in bringing this place down. He thinks that there's some grand war going on between memes and genes, and that humans and the Goo are on opposite sides of it.† The whale-ship captain stood and nodded as if confirming something to herself. â€Å"Okay, then. That's what I needed to know. That's why he sent me here. I'll try to get them to send you some food.† â€Å"What? Help me get out of here.† Nate suddenly had a very bad feeling about this whole exchange. â€Å"I'm sorry, Nate. They have Cal. The whaley boys have him. You know how that feels. They told me I had to find out if you were plotting against the Colonel. Thank you for telling me. I think they'll let him go now.† She walked to the door, and Nate followed her. â€Å"Get me out of here, Cielle, at least –  » â€Å"Nate, there's nowhere to go. The only way out of here is a whale ship, and whaley-boy pilots are the only ones who can run them. They've been on notice not to let you on since we got here. Right now I couldn't leave if I wanted to.† She pounded on the door. â€Å"Open!† The door clicked open, and two all-black whaley boys stood outside waiting. They caught Nate by the shoulders and threw him back into the apartment as he tried to rush by them. â€Å"My own crew, Nate,† Cielle said. â€Å"See what you've done.† â€Å"He's going to kill you all, Cielle. Don't you see that? He's crazy.† â€Å"I don't believe you, Nate. I think you're the crazy one.† The door slammed shut. Back at Papa Lani, Clay was doing a final check on the equipment he was taking with him to meet his new ship. Diving and camera equipment lay spread out across the office floor. Kona was going through the checklist on the clipboard with a felt-tip pen. â€Å"So you tink the Snowy Biscuit going to be there?† â€Å"I'm going. I just wish that we could answer her. Tell her I'm on my way.† â€Å"You mean, like, put the digital in the whale sound and send it?† â€Å"Yeah, I know, we can't do it. Did you find a canister of soda lime for the rebreather's CO2 scrubbers?† â€Å"I can do that.† Kona held up the canister Clay was looking for and checked it off the list. â€Å"You can?† â€Å"I been looking at it long time. She not that hard to put that message back in the call. But how you going to send it? You need some gi-grandious big speakers under the water, mon. We don't have nothing like dat.† Clay stopped his inventory and pulled Kona's clipboard down so he could see his eyes. â€Å"You can put a message into the waveform so it would come out the same way we've been taking it out?† Kona nodded. â€Å"Show me,† Clay said. He went to the computer. Kona took the chair and pulled up a low-frequency waveform that looked like a jagged comb, and then he hit a button that took a small section and expanded it, which smoothed out the jags. â€Å"See, this part here. We know this a letter B, right? We just cut it and paste with other letters, make a goofy whale call. I got the all the letters but a Q and a Z figured.† â€Å"Don't explain, just do it. Here.† Clay scribbled a short message in the margin of Kona's checklist. â€Å"Then play it for me.† â€Å"I can play, but you won't hear it. It's subsonic, brah. Like I say, you going need some thumpin' speakers to send it. You know where we can steal some?† â€Å"We might not have to steal them.† While Kona pieced together the message, Clay grabbed the phone off his desk and dialed Cliff Hyland. The biologist answered on the second ring. â€Å"Cliff, Clay Demodocus. I need a favor from you. That big sonar rig of yours, will it broadcast subsonic frequencies?†¦ Good, I need you to take us out on your boat tonight, with your rig.† Kona looked at Clay. Clay grinned and raised his eyebrows. â€Å"No, it has to be tonight. I'm flying out for Chuuk in the morning. If I need to send out a signal, what can I plug in to it? Tape, disk recorder, what? Anything with a pre-amp?† Clay covered the receiver with his hand. â€Å"Can you put it on an audio disk?† â€Å"No problems,† Kona said. â€Å"No problem,† Clay said into the phone. â€Å"We'll meet you at the harbor at ten, okay?† Clay waited. He was listening, pacing in a little circle behind the surfer. â€Å"Yeah, well, we were just talking about that, Cliff, and we figured that if you said no, we'd just have to steal your boat and your rig. I could probably figure out how the rig works, right?† There was another pause and Clay held the phone away from his ear. Kona could hear an irritated voice coming out of the earpiece. â€Å"Because we're friends, Cliff, that's why I'd tell you in advance that I was going to steal your boat. Jeez, you think I'd just steal it like some stranger? All right, then, we'll see you at ten o'clock.† He hung up the phone. â€Å"Okay, kid, get this right. We have to have it ready and to the harbor by ten.† â€Å"But what you gonna do the bad guys get it?† â€Å"Even if they do, only Amy will know what it means,† Clay said. â€Å"Cool runnings, brah.† Kona was concentrating on putting the message together, his tongue curled out the corner of his mouth as an antenna for focus. Clay leaned over his shoulder and watched the waveform come together on the screen. â€Å"How did you figure this out, kid? I mean, it doesn't seem like you.† â€Å"How's a man supposed to work his science dub wid you yammerin' like a rummed-up monkey?† â€Å"Sorry,† Clay said, making a mental note to give the kid a raise if any of this actually worked.

Prime Minister John Turner Biography

Prime Minister John Turner Biography John Turner was a Prime Minister in waiting for too long. By the time John Turner had waited out the Trudeau era and was elected Leader of the Liberal Party to become Prime Minister in 1984, the country was fed up with the Liberal government. Turner himself seemed out of date and out of touch. He made a number of political gaffes, including calling an early election, and the Conservatives won a massive majority. For six years as Leader of the Opposition, John Turner fought, unsuccessfully, against free trade with the United States. Prime Minister of Canada 1984 Birth June 7, 1929, in Richmond, Surrey, England. John Turner came to Canada as a young child in 1932. Education BA - University of British ColumbiaRhodes Scholar, BA in Jurisprudence, BCL, MA - Oxford UniversityUniversity of Paris Profession Lawyer Political Affiliation Liberal Party of Canada Ridings (Electoral Districts) Over the years, Turner held ridings in three different provinces - Quebec, Ontario and British Columbia. St-Laurent - St-Georges 1962-68Ottawa-Carleton 1968-76Vancouver Quadra 1984-93 Political Career of John Turner John Turner was first elected to the House of Commons in 1962.He was a Minister without Portfolio from 1965 to 1967, and Minister of Consumer and Corporate Affairs from 1967 to 1968.He ran for the leadership of the Liberal Party in 1968 but lost to Pierre Trudeau.In 1968, John Turner became Solicitor General of Canada.He was Minister of Justice from 1968 to 1972.From 1972 to 1975, John Turner was Minister of Finance. In 1974, his second budget was voted down in the House of Commons, and a general election was called.The Liberals won the 1974 general election and John Turner was again appointed Minister of Finance.Unhappy with the job of Minister of Finance and the economic policy of the government, John Turner resigned in 1975 to return to the practice of law in Toronto.When Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau retired in 1984, John Turner was elected Leader of the Liberal Party of Canada.John Turner was sworn in as Prime Minister of Canada in 1984.A series of patronage appointments by both Pierre Trudeau and John Turner, and an electorate tired of 16 years of Liberal government led to a Conservative victory in the 1984 general election. Brian Mulroney became Prime Minister. John Turner stayed as Leader of the Opposition for six years from 1984 to 1990.He retired from politics in 1993 and returned to the practice of law.

Biography of John Hancock, Founding Father

Biography of John Hancock, Founding Father John Hancock (January 23, 1737–October 8, 1793) is one of America’s best-known founding fathers thanks to his unusually oversized signature on the Declaration of Independence. However, before he autographed one of the nation’s most important documents, he made a name for himself as a wealthy merchant and prominent politician. Fast Facts: John Hancock Known for: Founding father with a prominent signature on the Declaration of IndependenceOccupation: Merchant and politician (president of the Second Continental Congress and governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts)Born: January 23, 1737 in Braintree, MADied: October 8, 1793 in Boston, MAParents: Col. John Hancock Jr. and Mary Hawke ThaxterSpouse: Dorothy QuincyChildren: Lydia and John George Washington Early Years John Hancock III was born in Braintree, Massachusetts, near Quincy, on January 23, 1737. He was the son of Rev. Col. John Hancock Jr., a soldier and clergyman, and Mary Hawke Thaxter. John had all the advantages of a life of privilege, by virtue of both money and lineage. When John was seven years old, his father died, and he was sent to Boston to live with his uncle, Thomas Hancock. Thomas occasionally worked as a smuggler, but over the years, he built up a successful and legitimate mercantile trading operation. He had established profitable contracts with the British government, and when John came to live with him, Thomas was one of the richest men in Boston. John Hancock spent much of his youth learning the family business, and eventually enrolled in Harvard College. Once he graduated, he went to work for Thomas. The firm’s profits, particularly during the French and Indian War, allowed John to live comfortably, and he developed a fondness for finely tailored clothes. For a few years, John lived in London, serving as a company representative, but he returned to the colonies in 1761 because of Thomas’ failing health. When Thomas died childless in 1764, he left his entire fortune to John, making him one of the richest men in the colonies overnight. Political Tensions Grow During the 1760s, Britain was in significant debt. The empire had just emerged from the Seven Years War, and needed to increase revenue quickly. As a result, a series of taxation acts were levied against the colonies. The Sugar Act of 1763 sparked anger in Boston, and men like Samuel Adams became outspoken critics of the legislation. Adams and others argued that only colonial assemblies had the authority to levy taxes upon the North American colonies; because the colonies had no representation in Parliament, Adams said, that governing body wasnt entitled to tax colonists. In early 1765, Hancock was elected to the Boston Board of Selectmen, the city’s governing body. Just a few months later, Parliament passed the Stamp Act, which levied a tax upon any sort of legal document- wills, property deeds, and more- leading to enraged colonists rioting in the streets. Hancock disagreed with Parliament’s actions, but initially believed that the right thing for colonists to do was pay taxes as ordered. Eventually, however, he took a less moderate position, openly disagreeing with taxation laws. He participated in a vocal and public boycott of British imports, and when the Stamp Act was repealed in 1766, Hancock was elected to the Massachusetts House of Representatives. Samuel Adams, the leader of Boston’s Whig party, lent his support to Hancock’s political career, and served as a mentor as Hancock rose in popularity. An illustration depicting a group of rioting colonists protesting against the Stamp Act. MPI / Getty Images In 1767, Parliament passed the Townshend Acts, a series of tax laws that regulated customs and imports. Once again, Hancock and Adams called for a boycott of British goods into the colonies, and this time, the Customs Board decided that Hancock had become a problem. In April 1768, Customs agents boarded one of Hancock’s merchant ships, the Lydia, in Boston Harbor. Upon discovering they had no warrant to search the hold, Hancock refused to give the agents access to the cargo area of the ship. The Customs Board filed charges against him, but the Massachusetts Attorney General dismissed the case, as no laws had been broken. A month later, the Customs Board targeted Hancock again; it is possible they believed he was smuggling, but it is also possible that he was singled out for his political stances. Hancock’s sloop Liberty arrived in port, and when customs officials inspected the hold the next day, found it was carrying Madeira wine. However, the stores were only at one-fourth of the ship’s capacity, and agents concluded that Hancock must have offloaded the bulk of the cargo during the night in order to avoid paying import taxes. In June, the Customs Board seized the ship, which led to a riot on the docks. Historians have differing opinions on whether Hancock was smuggling or not, but most are in agreement that his actions of resistance helped spark the flames of revolution. In 1770, five people were killed during the Boston Massacre, and Hancock led a call for the removal of British troops from the city. He told Governor Thomas Hutchinson that thousands of civilian militia were waiting to storm Boston if soldiers were not removed from their quarters, and although it was a bluff, Hutchinson agreed to remove his regiments to the outskirts of town. Hancock was given credit for the withdrawal of the British. Over the next few years, he remained active and outspoken in Massachusetts politics, and stood up against further British taxation laws, including the Tea Act, which led to the Boston Tea Party. Hancock and the Declaration of Independence In December 1774, Hancock was elected as a delegate to the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia; around the same time, he was elected as president of the Provincial Congress. Hancock held significant political influence, and it was only because of Paul Revere’s heroic midnight ride that Hancock and Samuel Adams were not arrested before the battle of Lexington and Concord. Hancock served in Congress during the early years of the American Revolution, regularly writing to General George Washington and relaying requests for supplies to colonial officials. Despite his undoubtedly hectic political life, in 1775 Hancock took the time to get married. His new wife, Dorothy Quincy, was the daughter of prominent justice Edmund Quincy of Braintree. John and Dorothy had two children, but both children died young: their daughter Lydia passed away when she was ten months old, and their son John George Washington Hancock drowned at just eight years of age. Hancock was present when the Declaration of Independence was drafted and adopted. Although popular mythology has it that he signed his name largely and with flourish so King George could read it easily, there is no evidence that this is the case; the story likely originated years later. Other documents signed by Hancock indicate that his signature was consistently large. The reason his name appears at the top of the signatories is because he was president of the Continental Congress and signed first. Regardless, his iconic handwriting has become part of the American cultural lexicon. In common parlance, the phrase â€Å"John Hancock† is synonymous with â€Å"signature.† Fuse / Getty Images The official signed version of the Declaration of Independence, called the engrossed copy, wasn’t produced until after July 4, 1776, and was actually signed at the beginning of August. In fact, Congress kept the names of the signers secret for a while, as Hancock and the others risked being charged with treason if their role in the creation of the document was revealed. Later Life and Death In 1777, Hancock returned to Boston, and was re-elected to the House of Representatives. He spent years rebuilding his finances, which had suffered at the outbreak of the war, and continued working as a philanthropist. A year later, he led men into combat for the first time; as the senior major general of the state militia, he and several thousand troops joined General John Sullivan in an attack on a British garrison at Newport. Unfortunately, it was a disaster, and it was the end of Hancock’s military career. However, his popularity never dwindled, and in 1780 Hancock was elected governor of Massachusetts. Hancock was re-elected annually to the role of governor for the rest of his life. In 1789, he considered a run for the first president of the United States, but that honor ultimately fell to George Washington; Hancock received only four electoral votes in the election. His health was in decline, and on October 8, 1793, he passed away at Hancock Manor in Boston. Legacy After his death, Hancock largely faded from popular memory. This is in part due to the fact that unlike many of the other founding fathers, he left very few writings behind, and his house on Beacon Hill was torn down in 1863. It wasn’t until the 1970s that scholars began seriously investigating Hancock’s life, merits, and accomplishments. Today, numerous landmarks have been named after John Hancock, including the U.S. Navys USS Hancock as well as John Hancock University. Sources History.com, AE Television Networks, www.history.com/topics/american-revolution/john-hancock.â€Å"John Hancock Biography.† John Hancock, 1 Dec. 2012, www.john-hancock-heritage.com/biography-life/.Tyler, John W. Smugglers Patriots: Boston Merchants and the Advent of the American Revolution. Northeastern University Press, 1986.Unger, Harlow G. John Hancock: Merchant King and American Patriot. Castle Books, 2005.

Strengths and Weaknesses of a Theoretical Framework Centered on Term Paper

Strengths and Weaknesses of a Theoretical Framework Centered on Universal Notion of Gender - Term Paper Example Because of the situations presented to them by such a framework, members of the same gender learn to love and help each other in the society. For example, men may learn to work together and help each other as they strive for financial resources to help their families. On the other hand, women also learn to help each other in carrying out household chores. A theoretical framework that is centered on universal notion of gender has strength of helping the society maintain law and order. Once a belief concerning a certain gender becomes universally known, those concerned, that specific gender, tends to abide by what that theory states. Women for example naturally respected men and effectively take care of the family. In this case, gender roles in the society are strictly observed thus maintaining law and order. From birth, each child learns what is expected from him or her in the society. If such children learn that, that is what is universally expected of them, or that is their status in the society, they easily accept and practice it. In most western countries, though women are engaging themselves in professional jobs, they still uphold the universal believe that they are their family’s caregivers. Therefore, they ensure, at all costs, that they observe their roles at home as expected. After work, they go home to take care of chi ldren and cook for the family as men go out to enjoy themselves in bars. The weaknesses of a theoretical framework that is built on universal notion of gender include gender discrimination. In this case, if a certain gender, male or female, is universality viewed as weak, for example females, such a gender will be discriminated universally in every society because such a notion is usually believed to be a fact. The other weakness of a theoretical framework that is built around the notion of gender is that, it hinders self expression and individual strengths. In this case, individuals may fear to come out publicly and express themselves because of fear of the way the society might perceive them. For example, the African woman is believed to be inferior to the man, and is only supposed to care for the family. Such a woman may hardly express herself, and interests in the society, especially political ambitions. In Africa, women rarely stand out in the society for political or education al reasons because they can rarely succeed as almost everyone believes that that is not their role because of gender. Domestic labor among girl children has also had a negative impact on school performance among girls. They are expected to help their mothers as they learn the roles of motherhood instead of fully concentrating on education. Kinship and the Understanding of Gender Kinship is the study of links between different people that is based on descent, adoption or marriage (Vigdis, n. d.). Kinship has been a domain of definition in anthropological investigations since it was incepted in the late 19th century. Major paradigmatic changes in anthropology like feminism, cultural turn and political economy made kinship to undergo many restructuring phases. Detailed complexities in the system of kinship were considered important in the understanding of societies that were not from the west. Anthropological studies of kinship have been used to help in the understanding of gender as w ell as new forms of family, genetic development, lesbian and gay movements. In anthropological history, kinship is seen like a social institution