Sponsoring Arsenal Football Club Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words

Sponsoring Arsenal Football Club - Essay Example The season for the premier league starts from the month of august till may. It is one of the most lucrative leagues as it is attracting all the top players all over the world to its teams. In the year 1992, the premiere league was sponsored by Carlings. This was followed by the sponsorship of the premiere league by the Barclays card. "A history of the premier league". In the year 2001, the Barclays started complete sponsorship to the premiere league and from there on it came to be known as Barclays Premiere League. Today, people recognise the English premiere league by the name of Barclays. The sponsorship to the league started in the year 1992, it was first sponsored by Carlings and later on by Barclaycard from 2001-2004, Barclays 2004-2007, Barclays premier league finally 2007-2010. The total number of teams competing in the Barclay's premier league is 40 clubs. Out of the 40, 4 have already won the title of Manchester united, Blackburn rovers, arsenal, Chelsea. I have also discuss ed the competition format for the 20 clubs in the premiere league. About Barclay Bank, the bank has its headquarters in London alongwith Barclays Group Chairman is Marcus Aguis, and the Group Chief Executive is John Varley. They also function in all over the world, offering their customers with the suitable products and services. The company is listed on the London stock exchange. The bank also complies with the UK combined code on corporate governance. Barclays bank has a history of 300 years old. In all these years the bank has grown to offer its customers the required and the right product and the serices, suiting their requirement. The bank has its services in the field of financial services; they are also into retail and commercial banking, credit cards, investment banking, wealth management services al over the globe. The bank has its extensive international presence in Europe, the Americas, Africa and Asia. The Barclays bank operates in more than 50 countries and has its tota l employees of approximately 155,000 people. Now, the question arises as why did Barclays bank tie up with the premiere league The premier league laid down the following objectives and they were the ones that compelled Barclays to sponsor the premiere league. They were to be regarded world's best football league off and on the field, to promote the accessibilty to live games and enough media exposure and generate traffic to the media channel where the league is forecasted. To generate sufficient revenue so as to strengthen the future events of the premier league and its clubs as also been the main aim of the premier league. Football is the main domestic sport of the people there. They thought that this is the best way to advertise and promote their products and services. As the traffic is already generated by the fans, so they thought of doing innovative marketing and promotion of their products and services. They contributed to the premier league right from the year 2001 till 2010. Obviously, if Barclays is sponsoring such a big event then it would definitely change the preception of the people regarding Barclays banking. They are

How Fuel Costs Have Affected the Airline Industry Essay

How Fuel Costs Have Affected the Airline Industry - Essay Example The aim of this paper is to discuss all of this, as well as all characteristics and factors involved in the matter of how fuel costs have affected the airline industry. This is what will be dissertated in the following. The six most primary airlines in the United States have been ailing since 2001; four out of these six were in fact forced to file for bankruptcy in 2005. According to some analysts, the entire airline industry is on the brink of collapse altogether; the primary cause being that of ever-increasing fuel prices. "It's very bad right now, it's unsustainable," said Kevin Mitchell, Chairman of the Business Travel Coalition based in Pennsylvania. "It's as bad as it gets. If (oil) goes up another couple of dollars it's going to be more of a pain but it's going to be hardly distinguishable from the pain that the airlines are feeling right now." (Delaney, 2006). In fact, according to Mitchell, the American airline industry basically refused entirely even to recognize the shift in the marketplace five years ago. "They failed to understand that consumers were demanding everyday, low, affordable airfares. The carriers in Europe recognized that and began to take action in 2001 and 2002 to become competitive with low-cost carriers. The US carriers were stubborn throughout the whole time, thinking that as soon as the economy would rebound, so would business travelers willing to pay $2500 for coast to coast fares, and of course that never happened." (Delaney, 2006). In fact Northwest Airlines, the nation's fourth-largest airline which is based in Eagan, Minnesota, has made many headlines since the year unfolded. "It reported $450 million in losses the first quarter of 2005, it's stock prices are declining, it's fuel costs are rising, it asked its labor unions to freeze their current pension programs in lieu of new contribution plans, it is attempting to cut annual labor costs by $1.1 billion, and on July 1 the union representing its mechanics authorized a strike vote." (Oo, 2005). The current spike in oil prices is especially taking its toll; taking the airline industry into uncharted territory and raising many questions about the economic viability of many players in the industry. Increasing fuel prices have also had effects on global trade, which is one of the United States' most profitable resources. "No doubt increasing oil prices are likely to dampen global trade. Air cargo traffic is a leading indicator of any economic slowdown. The air cargo industry itself, in which fuel accounts for 20-30% of the operational cost, is poised to be the prime casualty of the new era of expensive oil," says a report entitled 'The Oil Crisis and its Impact on the Air Cargo Industry.' "Jet fuel prices have almost tripled in the past four years. As a result, the world's airlines spent over $100 billion on fuel in 2005, a 50% increase over 2004. At reasonable oil prices of $30-$40 a barrel, world air cargo traffic was projected triple over current traffic levels." (IAGS, 2006 ). Fuel expenses rank in as the number-one or number-two cost category in regards to the airline industry, and because of this, airlines have an enormous built-in financial incentive to reduce consumption;

Aspects of microeconomics and macroeconomics

Aspects of microeconomics and macroeconomics On this assignment will be looking into different aspect of microeconomics and macroeconomics, will be taken into consideration the definition and concept of the whole question as follow below. Part 1 (Micro section) Q1 To help understands by defining Demand that is the quantity of a good which consumers want, and are prepared and able to pay for. In this case the demand of organic food and drink has fallen sharply, and the main influence for fallen on demand for those products are: price; income; the price of substitute goods; the price of complements; taste; demographic factors; advertising and expectations. Price is one of the most important factors and it shift demand curve when it rises, the effect is shown by a movement along the demand curve, because consumers are likely to substitute cheaper alternative goods. http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikibooks/en/c/c1/DemandCurveMovementExample2.png The demand curve is downward-sloping, showing that as a price falls, demand rises, and vice versa. In this graphic, a reduction of price from P2 to P1 causes a rise in demand from Q2 to Q1. Usually, the more people earn, the more they will spend. The demand for most goods increase as income rises, and these goods are known as normal goods. And organic food and drink are normal goods, because the demand falls as consumers income falls, and vice versa. Demand can change sometimes, because of the expectation of price changes in the future. For example, post-Christmas sales may push customers to postpone spending until January. In an article entitled Food Price, Ellis makes the point that (à ¢Ã¢â€š ¬Ã‚ ¦) The proportion of shoppers buying organic food dropped by five per cent in the previous year. In July 2009, research carried out by marketing consultancy Cohn and Wolfe also reported that British shoppers are turning their backs on premium foods, organic produce and Fair-trade goods. According to the Cohn and Wolfe report, 69 per cent of shoppers say they intend to stick to their belt-tightening shopping practices even after the downturn ends (). www.bbc.co.uk/food/food_matters/foodprices.shtml#what_about_the_recession. Q2 The production possibility frontier illustrates the problems of scarcity and choice and the opportunity cost of resources allocation decisions. The opportunity cost of something is what you give up to get it. To understand the idea the economy, which produce two goods as manufacturing and financial services, with all resources employed, producing more financial services can only be achieved by some sacrifice on manufacturing services. It can be illustrated on diagram below shown. B A 0 The frontier shows all the maximum possible outputs given the economys existing quantity of resources. It can have any combination of goods along the line. Point A shows a society which is failing to use all of its resources to the full, either through inefficiency or unemployment. Point B is currently unachievable, but can be achieved throw economic growth. The shape of the curve is bowed outwards to the origin, is based on the notion of that society progressively allocates more resources to the production of a particular good, the opportunity cost of doing so will increase. In other words the curve is bold because the more input the less is the output. For example, UK economy is based on services because the government decide not to invest on manufacturing and thought the easiest way to make money is by providing financial services especially banks and shoppings only 13% of UK GDP comes from manufacturing. Now the services have been beaten by the recession, many banks are facing financial problems, because they use to lend money to people who were at lower income. Many of these people cannot repay their mortgage because they lost their jobs and they are haven their home been repossessed, it is causing serious problems on economy; records can be seen on graphic below. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/7789844.stm Q5 It is important to be aware of the differences between theoretical models: a perfectly competitive firm; monopolistic competitive; oligopoly and a monopoly. But here only two will be taking into account. Perfectly Competitive Monopoly Very many small suppliers One supplier only Homogeneous goods; Suppliers products are a perfect substitute for one another One type of product only; no close substitutes available One market price Price set by one firm. Possibly price discrimination Demand curve of individual firm is horizontal. Demand curve of firm and industry is downward-sloping Perfect information Imperfect Information No barrier to entry in the long run Barriers to entry Clearly the assumptions essential perfect competitive extremely are not likely to apply in the real world; there is no market which obeys all the conditions. On the other hand, there are some that come close. The stock markets and foreign exchange are examples. Also complying with regulations the market is costly, as is training and equipment needed to operate in such a sophisticated, highly computerised market. As you can see, the conditions are not obeyed perfectly, but it may be that the markets are near enough the formal definition that displays the main characteristics of a theoretical perfectly competitive firm. The monopolist produces less, and charges more, than the perfectly competitive firm. He makes supernatural profits, which would be competed away in a perfectly competitive market in the long run. He may also be technically inefficient, operating at above minimum average cost. The monopolist equates marginal cost and marginal revenue. The perfectly competitive market equates marginal cost and average revenue. In perfect competition, each firm produces at the point where P=MC. PART 2 (Macro section) Q1 The economy is in recession because production is below its potential capacity, the term recession mean lack of money supplier. To respond this crisis the government is intervene through fiscal and monetary policy to increase aggregate demand, and the way for doing it is by supporting bank balance sheet; cutting in direct taxation(VAT -2.5); quantitative easing (bank of England) and employment level. Fiscal policy is basically about government taxation and expenditure. To help in this crisis the government has reduce the consumption tax VAT -2.5 to 15% to stimulate investment expenditure, but there was a big criticism about this idea, because reducing VAT did not cause long term impact in the economy, would cause more impact if they invest the  £12 billion building an public infrastructure to increase an aggregate demand. Monetary policy the bank of England is an independent monetary policy institution there a committee people appointed by government to make decision about interest rate, monetary policy is focus in regulating the money supplier in the economy through interest rate it has a big impact on aggregate demand. The bank of England has reduced its interest rate to 0.5% to boost the UK economy and start lending money to business and individuals. As the economy beginning to grown some others part of the economy will be automatically adjust, for example an increase on employment. Some companys worker has agreed to have a pay cut on their salaries to reduce people being redundant (BA Line). Automatic adjust as the economy beginning to grow the employment rate will decline http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/7832714.stm According to Kyosaki, Robert, Rich dad poor dad 2, E, (2008), few people have anticipated the financial problems we face today were created more than 60 years ago by politicians and lawmakers predecessors. Q3 In the post-war period government have adopted four central objectives of macroeconomic policy: low inflation; full employment; rising economic growth and balance of payments. But full employment is too hard to archive especially there is a trend for national income to experience cycle of growth and contraction, i.e. boom and recession. These cause severe social problems as failing level of economic activity throws people out of work and causes business to fail. The term unemployment means those of working age who are without work, but who are available for work at current wage rates. Unemployment could still exist because of many causes mentioned below: Cyclical unemployment, this occurs due to a deficiency of demand, often refers to the fact that in such circumstances it is possible that prices will fall. Frictional unemployment, refer those people who are unemployed and jobs available rarely match perfectly, leading to an inevitable degree of unemployment. Technological unemployment, can occur when industry is growing and moving towards more efficient capital intensive methods of operation. Seasonal unemployment, relates to fluctuations in demand for labour directly related to cycles in demand for final product. Tourism and leisure industries are the best examples, these can contribute to regional problems as they are strong in particular areas. Some of the remedies that government can use to reduce the level of unemployment are: direct increase in government spending on public infrastructure; encouragement of business investment by offering grants and loans; encouragement of exports; subsidise firms in financial trouble, guarantee jobs for workers facing redundancy and to restrict imports of competing foreign goods and also using specific measures to get people back into work like new deal programme and so on. The relation between unemployment and inflation can be explained with Philips curve, by Professor AW Philips in the 1862-1958. Philips observed that the rate of change in money wages was inversely related to the level of unemployment. Rising money wages were identified as a source of inflation and the inflation appeared to be inversely related to the level of unemployment. http://welkerswikinomics.com/students/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/fig21-300269.jpg Q4 The globalization and the environment are linked, because for expansion of economic, environmental damage are produced that are essential to the process of globalization. Mander argue that Globalization is a human creation that aims to remove impediments, such as environmental laws that restrict companies access to resources and markets, environmental damage is therefore an intrinsic part of the globalization system. www.gale.cengage.com/pdf/samples/toc32870.pd The intention of having a globalized world and to lower trade barriers, protecting free trade and my environment, thus bringing the economic development in poor countries, so that people have access to information, improving their health and liability to environmental protection. The process helps to globalize the ideas run free from one country to another, increasing the availability of knowledge and other opinions, helping the development among the nations. But for many environmentalists and anti-globalists Globalization will lead to environmental disaster and will gradually lead to the destruction of the environment, because the vision of globalization and produced without precedents to environmental deterioration. Speth points out that Since the end of World War II economic expansion has produced enormous environmental damage and global economic development can be expected to bring about even more dire economic consequences. www.gale.cengage.com/pdf/samples/toc32870.pd He believes that with globalization the few developed countries are benefiting because there was an opening up huge markets for them, since many of these poor countries produce more effective products and efficient, doing so will be multinationals are setting up in places, boosting investment foreign direct investment, and generating many jobs open to residents, e.g. Asian Tigers of South Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong and Singapore demonstrated the great benefits of globalization and free trade. www.futureharvest.org/ news / globalization_pir. In the other hand, there is a great inequality and between rich and poor countries. Aislin It has been argued that poor countries are often exploited and pushed into the world trade forums. For example, it is evident when the rich nations are allowed to pay huge subsidies to their farmers, which leaves LDN is a disadvantage industrial Workers. http://www.abcnews.go.com/sections/politics/dailynews/TheNote_March5.html Q5 If imports goods are too high it may be possible to reduce demand for them in the economy by imposing tariffs to raise the price of imports goods to prevent unfair competition in the home market. Also to avoid buying product from the market were workers have been exploited to export their product cheap. This policy is likely to be met by retaliation from overseas countries, which will reduce exports putting the current account back into deficit. In addition, imposition of tariffs does not reduce expenditure if demand for imports is relatively inelastic, government policy favouring domestic suppliers may mean higher than necessary taxes to pay for the higher necessary purchase cost, and restrictions generally encourage smuggling and black market For example, a poor country that in main revenue comes from the tax on trade, if withdraw the tax trade its revenue will reduce significantly also the amount of investment on public infrastructure will be reduce, consequently many import goods may come into the market in a low price, causing the domestic goods serious problems on market as well as increase unemployment. The balance of payment also will be affected; because of lack of exportation it may cause government to borrow some money to balance the balance of payment.

Techniques Used in Print Advertising Essay -- Literary Analysis

There are a plethora of features and techniques used in print advertising which are often invisible to the naked eye, and primed at targeting the audience’s subconscious mind. Audiences consume advertising wherever they look or go, whether it be on a train, reading a newspaper, or even using the public bathrooms. Conventions are constructed, and past knowledge is exploited, by what can be acknowledged as a ‘language of advertising’. Print-based advertising is a genre that has been around for a significant amount of time now, and a form that continues to flourish and adapt itself despite the prominence of more contemporary methods, such as the internet, and more recently, the growth of tablet computing. The following investigation will focus on two different newspaper advertisements for energy suppliers – one from British Gas, and the other from SSE. A consideration of audience will be undertaken, before analysing the use of language, structure, images and t ypography in each. Then, following this detailed analysis, a commentary on the persuasiveness of each advert will make for a fitting and necessary conclusion. Firstly, as suggested, it is important to consider the audience and context of the two focus advertisements before beginning an analysis of the primary features. This will provide a solid contextual framework, and make a link between audience, context, and features possible later in the investigation. Both advertisements were featured in a copy of The Guardian, a British national daily newspaper with a respectable circulation. The Guardian is centre-left in its political stance, thus inevitably attracting a readership with shared values. In addition, the newspaper is particularly popular in the 18-54 age demographic. (De... ...rticularly attempt to tie in with the content of the advert in a way that is witty, unlike the SSE advert. However, the declaratives in the main body of text, such as ‘We’ve introduced lots of things to help’, could persuade readers to read on to discover exactly what they’ve introduced to help. Such a question /answer approach is utilised throughout the advert. Works Cited - Advertising ‘Demographic profile of Guardian readers’ (2010) http://www.guardian.co.uk/advertising/demographic-profile-of-guardian-readers [Accessed 04 December 2011]. - Vestergaard, T; Schroeder, K (1985), The Language of Advertising, Wiley-Blackwell - Goddard, A (1998), The Language of Advertising: Written Texts, London: Routledge - Delin, J (2000), The Language of Everyday Life, London: Sage - Cook, G (1992), The Discourse of Advertising, 1st edn. London: Routledge

Black House Chapter Twenty-one

21 â€Å"SOPHIE.† Still holding her hand, he gets to his feet, pulling her up with him. His legs are trembling. His eyes feel hot and too large for their sockets. He is terrified and exalted in equal, perfectly equal, measure. His heart is hammering, but oh the beats are sweet. The second time he tries, he manages to say her name a little louder, but there's still not much to his voice, and his lips are so numb they might have been rubbed with ice. He sounds like a man just coming back from a hard punch in the gut. â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"Sophie.† â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"Sophie.† â€Å"Yes.† There's something weirdly familiar about this, him saying the name over and over and her giving back that simple affirmation. Familiar and funny. And it comes to him: there's a scene almost identical to this in The Terror of Deadwood Gulch, after one of the Lazy 8 Saloon's patrons has knocked Bill Towns unconscious with a whiskey bottle. Lily, in her role as sweet Nancy O'Neal, tosses a bucket of water in his face, and when he sits up, they â€Å"This is funny,† Jack says. â€Å"It's a good bit. We should be laughing.† With the slightest of smiles, Sophie says, â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"Laughing our fool heads off.† â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"Our tarnal heads off.† â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"I'm not speaking English anymore, am I?† â€Å"No.† He sees two things in her blue eyes. The first is that she doesn't know the word English. The second is that she knows exactly what he means. â€Å"Sophie.† â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"Sophie-Sophie-Sophie.† Trying to get the reality of it. Trying to pound it home like a nail. A smile lights her face and enriches her mouth. Jack thinks of how it would be to kiss that mouth, and his knees feel weak. All at once he is fourteen again, and wondering if he dares give his date a peck good-night after he walks her home. â€Å"Yes-yes-yes,† she says, the smile strengthening. And then: â€Å"Have you got it yet? Do you understand that you're here and how you got here?† Above and around him, billows of gauzy white cloth flap and sigh like living breath. Half a dozen conflicting drafts gently touch his face and make him aware that he carried a coat of sweat from the other world, and that it stinks. He arms it off his brow and cheeks in quick gestures, not wanting to lose sight of her for longer than a moment at a time. They are in a tent of some kind. It's huge many-chambered and Jack thinks briefly of the pavilion in which the Queen of the Territories, his mother's Twinner, lay dying. That place had been rich with many colors, filled with many rooms, redolent of incense and sorrow (for the Queen's death had seemed inevitable, sure only a matter of time). This one is ramshackle and ragged. The walls and the ceiling are full of holes, and where the white material remains whole, it's so thin that Jack can actually see the slope of land outside, and the trees that dress it. Rags flutter from the edges of some of the holes when the wind blows. Directly over his head he can see a shadowy maroon shape. Some sort of cross. â€Å"Jack, do you understand how you â€Å" â€Å"Yes. I flipped.† Although that isn't the word that comes out of his mouth. The literal meaning of the word that comes out seems to be horizon road. â€Å"And it seems that I sucked a fair number of Spiegleman's accessories with me.† He bends and picks up a flat stone with a flower carved on it. â€Å"I believe that in my world, this was a Georgia O'Keeffe print. And that † He points to a blackened, fireless torch leaning against one of the pavilion's fragile walls. â€Å"I think that was a † But there are no words for it in this world, and what comes out of his mouth sounds as ugly as a curse in German: † halogen lamp.† She frowns. â€Å"Hal-do-jen . . . limp? Lemp?† He feels his numb lips rise in a little grin. â€Å"Never mind.† â€Å"But you are all right.† He understands that she needs him to be all right, and so he'll say that he is, but he's not. He is sick and glad to be sick. He is one lovestruck daddy, and wouldn't have it any other way. If you discount how he felt about his mother a very different kind of love, despite what the Freudians might think it's the first time for him. Oh, he certainly thought he had been in and out of love, but that was before today. Before the cool blue of her eyes, her smile, and even the way the shadows thrown by the decaying tent fleet across her face like schools of fish. At this moment he would try to fly off a mountain for her if she asked, or walk through a forest fire, or bring her polar ice to cool her tea, and those things do not constitute being all right. But she needs him to be. Tyler needs him to be. I am a coppiceman, he thinks. At first the concept seems insubstantial compared to her beauty to her simple reality but then it begins to take hold. As it always has. What else brought him here, after all? Brought him against his will and all his best intentions? â€Å"Jack?† â€Å"Yes, I'm all right. I've flipped before.† But never into the presence of such beauty, he thinks. That's the problem. You're the problem, my lady. â€Å"Yes. To come and go is your talent. One of your talents. So I have been told.† â€Å"By whom?† â€Å"Shortly,† she says. â€Å"Shortly. There's a great deal to do, and yet I think I need a moment. You . . . rather take my breath away.† Jack is fiercely glad to know it. He sees he is still holding her hand, and he kisses it, as Judy kissed his hands in the world on the other side of the wall from this one, and when he does, he sees the fine mesh of bandage on the tips of three of her fingers. He wishes he dared to take her in his arms, but she daunts him: her beauty and her presence. She is slightly taller than Judy a matter of two inches, surely no more and her hair is lighter, the golden shade of unrefined honey spilling from a broken comb. She is wearing a simple cotton robe, white trimmed with a blue that matches her eyes. The narrow V-neck frames her throat. The hem falls to just below her knees. Her legs are bare but she's wearing a silver anklet on one of them, so slim it's almost invisible. She is fuller-breasted than Judy, her hips a bit wider. Sisters, you might think, except that they have the same spray of freckles across the nose and the same white line of scar across the back of the left hand. Differ ent mishaps caused that scar, Jack has no doubt, but he also has no doubt that those mishaps occurred at the same hour of the same day. â€Å"You're her Twinner. Judy Marshall's Twinner.† Only the word that comes out of his mouth isn't Twinner; incredibly, dopily, it seems to be harp. Later he will think of how the strings of a harp lie close together, only a finger's touch apart, and he will decide that word isn't so foolish after all. She looks down, her mouth drooping, then raises her head again and tries to smile. â€Å"Judy. On the other side of the wall. When we were children, Jack, we spoke together often. Even when we grew up, although then we spoke in each other's dreams.† He is alarmed to see tears forming in her eyes and then slipping down her cheeks. â€Å"Have I driven her mad? Run her to lunacy? Please say I haven't.† â€Å"Nah,† Jack says. â€Å"She's on a tightrope, but she hasn't fallen off yet. She's tough, that one.† â€Å"You have to bring her Tyler back to her,† Sophie tells him. â€Å"For both of us. I've never had a child. I cannot have a child. I was . . . mistreated, you see. When I was young. Mistreated by one you knew well.† A terrible certainty forms in Jack's mind. Around them, the ruined pavilion flaps and sighs in the wonderfully fragrant breeze. â€Å"Was it Morgan? Morgan of Orris?† She bows her head, and perhaps this is just as well. Jack's face is, at that moment, pulled into an ugly snarl. In that moment he wishes he could kill Morgan Sloat's Twinner all over again. He thinks to ask her how she was mistreated, and then realizes he doesn't have to. â€Å"How old were you?† â€Å"Twelve,† she says . . . as Jack has known she would say. It happened that same year, the year when Jacky was twelve and came here to save his mother. Or did he come here? Is this really the Territories? Somehow it doesn't feel the same. Almost . . . but not quite. It doesn't surprise him that Morgan would rape a child of twelve, and do it in a way that would keep her from ever having children. Not at all. Morgan Sloat, sometimes known as Morgan of Orris, wanted to rule not just one world or two, but the entire universe. What are a few raped children to a man with such ambitions? She gently slips her thumbs across the skin beneath his eyes. It's like being brushed with feathers. She's looking at him with something like wonder. â€Å"Why do you weep, Jack?† â€Å"The past,† he says. â€Å"Isn't that always what does it?† And thinks of his mother, sitting by the window, smoking a cigarette, and listening while the radio plays â€Å"Crazy Arms.† Yes, it's always the past. That's where the hurt is, all you can't get over. â€Å"Perhaps so,† she allows. â€Å"But there's no time to think about the past today. It's the future we must think about today.† â€Å"Yes, but if I could ask just a few questions . . . ?† â€Å"All right, but only a few.† Jack opens his mouth, tries to speak, and makes a comical little gaping expression when nothing comes out. Then he laughs. â€Å"You take my breath away, too,† he tells her. â€Å"I have to be honest about that.† A faint tinge of color rises in Sophie's cheeks, and she looks down. She opens her lips to say something . . . then presses them together again. Jack wishes she had spoken and is glad she hasn't, both at the same time. He squeezes her hands gently, and she looks up at him, blue eyes wide. â€Å"Did I know you? When you were twelve?† She shakes her head. â€Å"But I saw you.† â€Å"Perhaps. In the great pavilion. My mother was one of the Good Queen's handmaidens. I was another . . . the youngest. You could have seen me then. I think you did see me.† Jack takes a moment to digest the wonder of this, then goes on. Time is short. They both know this. He can almost feel it fleeting. â€Å"You and Judy are Twinners, but neither of you travel she's never been in your head over here and you've never been in her head, over there. You . . . talk through a wall.† â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"When she wrote things, that was you, whispering through the wall.† â€Å"Yes. I knew how hard I was pushing her, but I had to. Had to! It's not just a question of restoring her child to her, important as that may be. There are larger considerations.† â€Å"Such as?† She shakes her head. â€Å"I am not the one to tell you. The one who will is much greater than I.† He studies the tiny dressings that cover the tips of her fingers, and muses on how hard Sophie and Judy have tried to get through that wall to each other. Morgan Sloat could apparently become Morgan of Orris at will. As a boy of twelve, Jack had met others with that same talent. Not him; he was single-natured and had always been Jack in both worlds. Judy and Sophie, however, have proved incapable of flipping back and forth in any fashion. Something's been left out of them, and they could only whisper through the wall between the worlds. There must be sadder things, but at this moment he can't think of a single one. Jack looks around at the ruined tent, which seems to breathe with sunshine and shadow. Rags flap. In the next room, through a hole in the gauzy cloth wall, he sees a few overturned cots. â€Å"What is this place?† he asks. She smiles. â€Å"To some, a hospital.† â€Å"Oh?† He looks up and once more takes note of the cross. Maroon now, but undoubtedly once red. A red cross, stupid, he thinks. â€Å"Oh! But isn't it a little . . . well . . . old?† Sophie's smile widens, and Jack realizes it's ironic. Whatever sort of hospital this is, or was, he's guessing it bears little or no resemblance to the ones on General Hospital or ER. â€Å"Yes, Jack. Very old. Once there were a dozen or more of these tents in the Territories, On-World, and Mid-World; now there are only a few. Mayhap just this one. Today it's here. Tomorrow . . .† Sophie raises her hands, then lowers them. â€Å"Anywhere! Perhaps even on Judy's side of the wall.† â€Å"Sort of like a traveling medicine show.† This is supposed to be a joke, and he's startled when she first nods, then laughs and claps her hands. â€Å"Yes! Yes, indeed! Although you wouldn't want to be treated here.† What exactly is she trying to say? â€Å"I suppose not,† he agrees, looking at the rotting walls, tattered ceiling panels, and ancient support posts. â€Å"Doesn't exactly look sterile.† Seriously (but her eyes are sparkling), Sophie says: â€Å"Yet if you were a patient, you would think it beautiful out of all measure. And you would think your nurses, the Little Sisters, the most beautiful any poor patient ever had.† Jack looks around. â€Å"Where are they?† â€Å"The Little Sisters don't come out when the sun shines. And if we wish to continue our lives with the blessing, Jack, we'll be gone our separate ways from here long before dark.† It pains him to hear her talk of separate ways, even though he knows it's inevitable. The pain doesn't dampen his curiosity, however; once a coppiceman, it seems, always a coppiceman. â€Å"Why?† â€Å"Because the Little Sisters are vampires, and their patients never get well.† Startled, uneasy, Jack looks around for signs of them. Certainly disbelief doesn't cross his mind a world that can spawn werewolves can spawn anything, he supposes. She touches his wrist. A little tremble of desire goes through him. â€Å"Don't fear, Jack they also serve the Beam. All things serve the Beam.† â€Å"What beam?† â€Å"Never mind.† The hand on his wrist tightens. â€Å"The one who can answer your questions will be here soon, if he's not already.† She gives him a sideways look that contains a glimmer of a smile. â€Å"And after you hear him, you'll be more apt to ask questions that matter.† Jack realizes that he has been neatly rebuked, but coming from her, it doesn't sting. He allows himself to be led through room after room of the great and ancient hospital. As they go, he gets a sense of how really huge this place is. He also realizes that, in spite of the fresh breezes, he can detect a faint, unpleasant undersmell, something that might be a mixture of fermented wine and spoiled meat. As to what sort of meat, Jack is afraid he can guess pretty well. After visiting over a hundred homicide crime scenes, he should be able to. It would have been impolite to break away while Jack was meeting the love of his life (not to mention bad narrative business), so we didn't. Now, however, let us slip through the thin walls of the hospital tent. Outside is a dry but not unpleasant landscape of red rocks, broom sage, desert flowers that look a bit like sego lilies, stunted pines, and a few barrel cacti. Somewhere not too far distant is the steady cool sigh of a river. The hospital pavilion rustles and flaps as dreamily as the sails of a ship riding down the sweet chute of the trade winds. As we float along the great ruined tent's east side in our effortless and peculiarly pleasant way, we notice a strew of litter. There are more rocks with drawings etched on them, there is a beautifully made copper rose that has been twisted out of shape as if by some great heat, there is a small rag rug that looks as if it has been chopped in two by a meat cleaver. There's other stuff as well, stuff that has resisted any change in it s cyclonic passage from one world to the other. We see the blackened husk of a television picture tube lying in a scatter of broken glass, several Duracell AA batteries, a comb, and perhaps oddest a pair of white nylon panties with the word Sunday written on one side in demure pink script. There has been a collision of worlds; here, along the east side of the hospital pavilion, is an intermingled detritus that attests to how hard that collision was. At the end of that littery plume of exhaust the head of the comet, we might say sits a man we recognize. We're not used to seeing him in such an ugly brown robe (and he clearly doesn't know how to wear such a garment, because if we look at him from the wrong angle, we can see much more than we want to), or wearing sandals instead of wing tips, or with his hair pulled back into a rough horsetail and secured with a hank of rawhide, but this is undoubtedly Wendell Green. He is muttering to himself. Drool drizzles from the corners of his mouth. He is looking fixedly at an untidy crumple of foolscap in his right hand. He ignores all the more cataclysmic changes that have occurred around him and focuses on just this one. If he can figure out how his Panasonic minicorder turned into a little pile of ancient paper, perhaps he'll move on to the other stuff. Not until then. Wendell (we'll continue to call him Wendell, shall we, and not worry about any name he might or might not have in this little corner of existence, since he doesn't know it or want to) spies the Duracell AA batteries. He crawls to them, picks them up, and begins trying to stick them into the little pile of foolscap. It doesn't work, of course, but that doesn't keep Wendell from trying. As George Rathbun might say, â€Å"Give that boy a flyswatter and he'd try to catch dinner with it.† â€Å"Geh,† says the Coulee Country's favorite investigative reporter, repeatedly poking the batteries at the foolscap. â€Å"Geh . . . in. Geh . . . in! Gah-damnit, geh in th â€Å" A sound the approaching jingle of what can only be, God help us, spurs breaks into Wendell's concentration, and he looks up with wide, bulging eyes. His sanity may not be gone forever, but it's certainly taken the wife and kids and gone to Disney World. Nor is the current vision before his eyes apt to coax it back anytime soon. Once in our world there was a fine black actor named Woody Strode. (Lily knew him; acted with him, as a matter of fact, in a late-sixties American International stinkeroo called Execution Express.) The man now approaching the place where Wendell Green crouches with his batteries and his handful of foolscap looks remarkably like that actor. He is wearing faded jeans, a blue chambray shirt, a neck scarf, and a heavy revolver on a wide leather gun belt in which four dozen or so shells twinkle. His head is bald, his eyes deep-set. Slung over one shoulder by a strap of intricate design is a guitar. Sitting on the other is what appears to be a parrot. The parrot has two heads. â€Å"No, no,† says Wendell in a mildly scolding voice. â€Å"Don't. Don't see. Don't see. That.† He lowers his head and once more begins trying to cram the batteries into the handful of paper. The shadow of the newcomer falls over Wendell, who resolutely refuses to look up. â€Å"Howdy, stranger,† says the newcomer. Wendell carries on not looking up. â€Å"My name's Parkus. I'm the law 'round these parts. What's your handle?† Wendell refuses to respond, unless we can call the low grunts issuing from his drool-slicked mouth a response. â€Å"I asked your name.† â€Å"Wen,† says our old acquaintance (we can't really call him a friend) without looking up. â€Å"Wen. Dell. Gree . . . Green. I . . . I . . . I . . .† â€Å"Take your time,† Parkus says (not without sympathy). â€Å"I can wait till your branding iron gets hot.† â€Å"I . . . news hawk!† â€Å"Oh? That what you are?† Parkus hunkers; Wendell cringes back against the fragile wall of the pavilion. â€Å"Well, don't that just beat the bass drum at the front of the parade? Tell you what, I've seen fish hawks, and I've seen red hawks, and I've seen goshawks, but you're my first news hawk.† Wendell looks up, blinking rapidly. On Parkus's left shoulder, one head of the parrot says: â€Å"God is love.† â€Å"Go fuck your mother,† replies the other head. â€Å"All must seek the river of life,† says the first head. â€Å"Suck my tool,† says the second. â€Å"We grow toward God,† responds the first. â€Å"Piss up a rope,† invites the second. Although both heads speak equably even in tones of reasonable discourse Wendell cringes backward even farther, then looks down and furiously resumes his futile work with the batteries and the handful of paper, which is now disappearing into the sweat-grimy tube of his fist. â€Å"Don't mind 'em,† Parkus says. â€Å"I sure don't. Hardly hear 'em anymore, and that's the truth. Shut up, boys.† The parrot falls silent. â€Å"One head's Sacred, the other's Profane,† Parkus says. â€Å"I keep 'em around just to remind me that â€Å" He is interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, and stands up again in a single lithe and easy movement. Jack and Sophie are approaching, holding hands with the perfect unconsciousness of children on their way to school. â€Å"Speedy!† Jack cries, his face breaking into a grin. â€Å"Why, Travelin' Jack!† Parkus says, with a grin of his own. â€Å"Well-met! Look at you, sir you're all grown up.† Jack rushes forward and throws his arms around Parkus, who hugs him back, and heartily. After a moment, Jack holds Parkus at arm's length and studies him. â€Å"You were older you looked older to me, at least. In both worlds.† Still smiling, Parkus nods. And when he speaks again, it is in Speedy Parker's drawl. â€Å"Reckon I did look older, Jack. You were just a child, remember.† â€Å"But â€Å" Parkus waves one hand. â€Å"Sometimes I look older, sometimes not so old. It all depends on â€Å" â€Å"Age is wisdom,† one head of the parrot says piously, to which the other responds, â€Å"You senile old fuck.† † depends on the place and the circumstances,† Parkus concludes, then says: â€Å"And I told you boys to shut up. You keep on, I'm apt to wring your scrawny neck.† He turns his attention to Sophie, who is looking at him with wide, wondering eyes, as shy as a doe. â€Å"Sophie,† he says. â€Å"It's wonderful to see you, darling. Didn't I say he'd come? And here he is. Took a little longer than I expected, is all.† She drops him a deep curtsey, all the way down to one knee, her head bowed. â€Å"Thankee-sai,† she says. â€Å"Come in peace, gunslinger, and go your course along the Beam with my love.† At this, Jack feels an odd, deep chill, as if many worlds had spoken in a harmonic tone, low but resonant. Speedy so Jack still thinks of him takes her hand and urges her to her feet. â€Å"Stand up, girl, and look me in the eye. I'm no gunslinger here, not in the borderlands, even if I do still carry the old iron from time to time. In any case, we have a lot to talk about. This's no time for ceremony. Come over the rise with me, you two. We got to make palaver, as the gunslingers say. Or used to say, before the world moved on. I shot a good brace of grouse, and think they'll cook up just fine.† â€Å"What about † Jack gestures toward the muttering, crouched heap that is Wendell Green. â€Å"Why, he looks right busy,† Parkus says. â€Å"Told me he's a news hawk.† â€Å"I'm afraid he's a little above himself,† Jack replies. â€Å"Old Wendell here's a news vulture.† Wendell turns his head a bit. He refuses to lift his eyes, but his lip curls in a sneer that may be more reflexive than real. â€Å"Heard. That.† He struggles. The lip curls again, and this time the sneer seems less reflexive. It is, in fact, a snarl. â€Å"Gol. Gol. Gol-den boy. Holly. Wood.† â€Å"He's managed to retain at least some of his charm and his joi de vivre,† Jack says. â€Å"Will he be okay here?† â€Å"Not much with ary brain in its head comes near the Little Sisters' tent,† Parkus says. â€Å"He'll be okay. And if he smells somethin' tasty on the breeze and comes for a look-see, why, I guess we can feed him.† He turns toward Wendell. â€Å"We're going just over yonder. If you want to come and visit, why, you just up and do her. Understand me, Mr. News Hawk?† â€Å"Wen. Dell. Green.† â€Å"Wendell Green, yessir.† Parkus looks at the others. â€Å"Come on. Let's mosey.† â€Å"We mustn't forget him,† Sophie murmurs, with a look back. â€Å"It will be dark in a few hours.† â€Å"No,† Parkus agrees as they top the nearest rise. â€Å"Wouldn't do to leave him beside that tent after dark. That wouldn't do at all.† There's more foliage in the declivity on the far side of the rise even a little ribbon of creek, presumably on its way to the river Jack can hear in the distance but it still looks more like northern Nevada than western Wisconsin. Yet in a way, Jack thinks, that makes sense. The last one had been no ordinary flip. He feels like a stone that has been skipped all the way across a lake, and as for poor Wendell To the right of where they descend the far side of the draw, a horse has been tethered in the shade of what Jack thinks is a Joshua tree. About twenty yards down the draw to the left is a circle of eroded stones. Inside it a fire, not yet lit, has been carefully laid. Jack doesn't like the look of the place much the stones remind him of ancient teeth. Nor is he alone in his dislike. Sophie stops, her grip on his fingers tightening. â€Å"Parkus, do we have to go in there? Please say we don't.† Parkus turns to her with a kindly smile Jack knows well: a Speedy Parker smile for sure. â€Å"The Speaking Demon's been gone from this circle many the long age, darling,† he says. â€Å"And you know that such as yon are best for stories.† â€Å"Yet â€Å" â€Å"Now's no time to give in to the willies,† Parkus tells her. He speaks with a trace of impatience, and â€Å"willies† isn't precisely the word he uses, but only how Jack's mind translates it. â€Å"You waited for him to come in the Little Sisters' hospital tent â€Å" â€Å"Only because she was there on the other side â€Å" † and now I want you to come along.† All at once he seems taller to Jack. His eyes flash. Jack thinks: A gunslinger. Yes, I suppose he could be a gunslinger. Like in one of Mom's old movies, only for real. â€Å"All right,† she says, low. â€Å"If we must.† Then she looks at Jack. â€Å"I wonder if you'd put your arm around me?† Jack, we may be sure, is happy to oblige. As they step between two of the stones, Jack seems to hear an ugly twist of whispered words. Among them, one voice is momentarily clear, seeming to leave a trail of slime behind it as it enters his ear: Drudge drudge drudge, oho the bledding foodzies, soon he cummz, my good friend Mun-shun, and such a prize I have for him, oho, oho Jack looks at his old friend as Parkus hunkers by a tow sack and loosens the drawstring at the top. â€Å"He's close, isn't he? The Fisherman. And Black House, that's close, too.† â€Å"Yep,† Parkus says, and from the sack he spills the gutted corpses of a dozen plump dead birds. Thoughts of Irma Freneau reenter Jack's head at the sight of the grouse, and he thinks he won't be able to eat. Watching as Parkus and Sophie skewer the birds on greensticks reinforces this idea. But after the fire is lit and the birds begin to brown, his stomach weighs in, insisting that the grouse smell wonderful and will probably taste even better. Over here, he remembers, everything always does. â€Å"And here we are, in the speaking circle,† Parkus says. His smiles have been put away for the nonce. He looks at Jack and Sophie, who sit side by side and still holding hands, with somber gravity. His guitar has been propped against a nearby rock. Beside it, Sacred and Profane sleeps with its two heads tucked into its feathers, dreaming its no doubt bifurcated dreams. â€Å"The Demon may be long gone, but the legends say such things leave a residue that may lighten the tongue.† â€Å"Like kissing the Blarney Stone, maybe,† Jack suggests. Parkus shakes his head. â€Å"No blarney today.† Jack says, â€Å"If only we were dealing with an ordinary scumbag. That I could handle.† Sophie looks at him, puzzled. â€Å"He means a dust-off artist,† Parkus tells her. â€Å"A hardcase.† He looks at Jack. â€Å"And in one way, that is what you're dealing with. Carl Bier-stone isn't much an ordinary monster, let's say. Which is not to say he couldn't do with a spot of killing. But as for what's going on in French Landing, he has been used. Possessed, you'd say in your world, Jack. Taken by the spirits, we'd say in the Territories â€Å" â€Å"Or brought low by pigs,† Sophie adds. â€Å"Yes.† Parkus is nodding. â€Å"In the world just beyond this borderland Mid-World they would say he has been infested by a demon. But a demon far greater than the poor, tattered spirit that once lived in this circle of stones.† Jack hardly hears that. His eyes are glowing. It sounded something like beer stein, George Potter told him last night, a thousand years ago. That's not it, but it's close. â€Å"Carl Bierstone,† he says. He raises a clenched fist, then shakes it in triumph. â€Å"That was his name in Chicago. Burnside here in French Landing. Case closed, game over, zip up your fly. Where is he, Speedy? Save me some time h â€Å" â€Å"Shut . . . up,† Parkus says. The tone is low and almost deadly. Jack can feel Sophie shrink against him. He does a little shrinking himself. This sounds nothing like his old friend, nothing at all. You have to stop thinking of him as Speedy, Jack tells himself. That's not who he is or ever was. That was just a character he played, someone who could both soothe and charm a scared kid on the run with his mother. Parkus turns the birds, which are now browned nicely on one side and spitting juice into the fire. â€Å"I'm sorry to speak harsh to you, Jack, but you have to realize that your Fisherman is pretty small fry compared to what's really going on.† Why don't you tell Tansy Freneau he's small fry? Why don't you tell Beezer St. Pierre? Jack thinks these things, but doesn't say them out loud. He's more than a little afraid of the light he saw in Parkus's eyes. â€Å"Nor is it about Twinners,† Parkus says. â€Å"You got to get that idea out of your mind. That's just something that has to do with your world and the world of the Territories a link. You can't kill some hardcase over here and end the career of your cannibal over there. And if you kill him over there, in Wisconsin, the thing inside will just jump to another host.† â€Å"The thing ?† â€Å"When it was in Albert Fish, Fish called it the Monday Man. Fellow you're after calls it Mr. Munshun. Both are only ways of trying to say something that can't be pronounced by any earthly tongue on any earthly world.† â€Å"How many worlds are there, Speedy?† â€Å"Many,† Parkus says, looking into the fire. â€Å"And this business concerns every one of them. Why else do you think I've been after you like I have? Sending you feathers, sending you robins' eggs, doing every damned thing I could to make you wake up.† Jack thinks of Judy, scratching on walls until the tips of her fingers were bloody, and feels ashamed. Speedy has been doing much the same thing, it seems. â€Å"Wake up, wake up, you dunderhead,† he says. Parkus seems caught between reproof and a smile. â€Å"For sure you must have seen me in the case that sent you running out of L.A.† â€Å"Ah, man why do you think I went?† â€Å"You ran like Jonah, when God told him to go preach against the wickedness in Nineveh. Thought I was gonna have to send a whale to come and swallow you up.† â€Å"I feel swallowed,† Jack tells him. In a small voice, Sophie says: â€Å"I do, too.† â€Å"We've all been swallowed,† says the man with the gun on his hip. â€Å"We're in the belly of the beast, like it or not. It's ka, which is destiny and fate. Your Fisherman, Jack, is now your ka. Our ka. This is more than murder. Much more.† And Jack sees something that frankly scares the shit out of him. Lester Parker, a.k.a. Speedy, a.k.a. Parkus, is himself scared almost to death. â€Å"This business concerns the Dark Tower,† he says. Beside Jack, Sophie gives a low, desperate cry of terror and lowers her head. At the same time she raises one hand and forks the sign of the Evil Eye at Parkus, over and over. That gentleman doesn't seem to take it amiss. He simply sets to work turning the birds again on their sticks. â€Å"Listen to me, now,† he says. â€Å"Listen, and ask as few questions as you can. We still have a chance to get Judy Marshall's son back, but time is blowing in our teeth.† â€Å"Talk,† Jack says. Parkus talks. At some point in his tale he judges the birds done and serves them out on flat stones. The meat is tender, almost falling off the small bones. Jack eats hungrily, drinking deep of the sweet water from Parkus's waterskin each time it comes around to him. He wastes no more time comparing dead children to dead grouse. The furnace needs to be stoked, and he stokes it with a will. So does Sophie, eating with her fingers and licking them clean without the slightest reserve or embarrassment. So, in the end, does Wendell Green, although he refuses to enter the circle of old stones. When Parkus tosses him a golden-brown grouse, however, Wendell catches it with remarkable adroitness and buries his face in the moist meat. â€Å"You asked how many worlds,† Parkus begins. â€Å"The answer, in the High Speech, is da fan: worlds beyond telling.† With one of the blackened sticks he draws a figure eight on its side, which Jack recognizes as the Greek symbol for infinity. â€Å"There is a Tower that binds them in place. Think of it as an axle upon which many wheels spin, if you like. And there is an entity that would bring this Tower down. Ram Abbalah.† At these words, the flames of the fire seem to momentarily darken and turn red. Jack wishes he could believe that this is only a trick of his overstrained mind, but cannot. â€Å"The Crimson King,† he says. â€Å"Yes. His physical being is pent in a cell at the top of the Tower, but he has another manifestation, every bit as real, and this lives in Can-tah Abbalah the Court of the Crimson King.† â€Å"Two places at once.† Given his journeying between the world of America and the world of the Territories, Jack has little trouble swallowing this concept. â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"If he or it destroys the Tower, won't that defeat his purpose? Won't he destroy his physical being in the process?† â€Å"Just the opposite: he'll set it free to wander what will then be chaos . . . din-tah . . . the furnace. Some parts of Mid-World have fallen into that furnace already.† â€Å"How much of this do I actually need to know?† Jack asks. He is aware that time is fleeting by on his side of the wall, as well. â€Å"Hard telling what you need to know and what you don't,† Parkus says. â€Å"If I leave out the wrong piece of information, maybe all the stars go dark. Not just here, but in a thousand thousand universes. That's the pure hell of it. Listen, Jack the King has been trying to destroy the Tower and set himself free for time out of mind. Forever, mayhap. It's slow work, because the Tower is bound in place by crisscrossing force beams that act on it like guy wires. The Beams have held for millennia, and would hold for millennia to come, but in the last two hundred years that's speaking of time as you count it, Jack; to you, Sophie, it would be Full-Earth almost five hundred times over â€Å" â€Å"So long,† she says. It's almost a sigh. â€Å"So very long.† â€Å"In the great sweep of things, it's as short as the gleam of a single match in a dark room. But while good things usually take a long time to develop, evil has a way of popping up full-blown and ready-made, like Jack out of his box. Ka is a friend to evil as well as to good. It embraces both. And, speaking of Jack . . .† Parkus turns to him. â€Å"You've heard of the Iron Age and the Bronze Age, of course?† Jack nods. â€Å"On the upper levels of the Tower, there are those who call the last two hundred or so years in your world the Age of Poisoned Thought. That means â€Å" â€Å"You don't have to explain it to me,† Jack says. â€Å"I knew Morgan Sloat, remember? I knew what he planned for Sophie's world.† Yes, indeed. The basic plan had been to turn one of the universe's sweetest honeycombs into first a vacation spot for the rich, then a source of unskilled labor, and finally a waste pit, probably radioactive. If that wasn't an example of poisoned thought, Jack doesn't know what is. Parkus says, â€Å"Rational beings have always harbored telepaths among their number; that's true in all the worlds. But they're ordinarily rare creatures. Prodigies, you might say. But since the Age of Poisoned Thought came on your world, Jack infested it like a demon such beings have become much more common. Not as common as slow mutants in the Blasted Lands, but common, yes.† â€Å"You speak of mind readers,† Sophie says, as if wanting to be sure. â€Å"Yes,† Parkus agrees, â€Å"but not just mind readers. Precognates. Teleports world jumpers like old Travelin' Jack here, in other words and telekinetics. Mind readers are the most common, telekinetics the rarest . . . and the most valuable.† â€Å"To him, you mean,† Jack says. â€Å"To the Crimson King.† â€Å"Yes. Over the last two hundred years or so, the abbalah has spent a good part of his time gathering a crew of telepathic slaves. Most of them come from Earth and the Territories. All of the telekinetics come from Earth. This collection of slaves this gulag is his crowning achievement. We call them Breakers. They . . .† He trails off, thinking. Then: â€Å"Do you know how a galley travels?† Sophie nods, but Jack at first has no idea what Parkus is talking about. He has a brief, lunatic vision of a fully equipped kitchen traveling down Route 66. â€Å"Many oarsmen,† Sophie says, then makes a rowing motion that throws her breasts into charming relief. Parkus is nodding. â€Å"Usually slaves chained together. They â€Å" From outside the circle, Wendell suddenly sticks his own oar in. â€Å"Spart. Cus.† He pauses, frowning, then tries it again. â€Å"Spart-a-cus.† â€Å"What's he on about?† Parkus asks, frowning. â€Å"Any idea, Jack?† â€Å"A movie called Spartacus,† Jack says, â€Å"and you're wrong as usual, Wendell. I believe you're thinking about Ben-Hur.† Looking sulky, Wendell holds out his greasy hands. â€Å"More. Meat.† Parkus pulls the last grouse from its sizzling stick and tosses it between two of the stones, where Wendell sits with his pallid, greasy face peering from between his knees. â€Å"Fresh prey for the news hawk,† he says. â€Å"Now do us a favor and shut up.† â€Å"Or. What.† The old defiant gleam is rising in Wendell's eyes. Parkus draws his shooting iron partway from its holster. The grip, made of sandalwood, is worn, but the barrel gleams murder-bright. He has to say no more; holding his second bird in one hand, Wendell Green hitches up his robe and hies himself back over the rise. Jack is extremely relieved to see him go. Spartacus indeed, he thinks, and snorts. â€Å"So the Crimson King wants to use these Breakers to destroy the Beams,† Jack says. â€Å"That's it, isn't it? That's his plan.† â€Å"You speak as though of the future,† Parkus says mildly. â€Å"This is happening now, Jack. Only look at your own world if you want to see the ongoing disintegration. Of the six Beams, only one still holds true. Two others still generate some holding power. The other three are dead. One of these went out thousands of years ago, in the ordinary course of things. The others . . . killed by the Breakers. All in two centuries or less.† â€Å"Christ,† Jack says. He is beginning to understand how Speedy could call the Fisherman small-fry. â€Å"The job of protecting the Tower and the Beams has always belonged to the ancient war guild of Gilead, called gunslingers in this world and many others. They also generated a powerful psychic force, Jack, one fully capable of countering the Crimson King's Breakers, but â€Å" â€Å"The gunslingers are all gone save for one,† Sophie says, looking at the big pistol on Parkus's hip. And, with timid hope: â€Å"Unless you really are one, too, Parkus.† â€Å"Not I, darling,† he says, â€Å"but there's more than one.† â€Å"I thought Roland was the last. So the stories say.† â€Å"He has made at least three others,† Parkus tells her. â€Å"I've no idea how that can be possible, but I believe it to be true. If Roland were still alone, the Breakers would have toppled the Tower long since. But with the force of these others added to his â€Å" â€Å"I have no clue what you're talking about,† Jack says. â€Å"I did, sort of, but you lost me about two turns back.† â€Å"There's no need for you to understand it all in order to do your job,† Parkus says. â€Å"Thank God for that.† â€Å"As for what you do need to understand, leave galleys and oarsmen and think in terms of the Western movies your mother used to make. To begin with, imagine a fort in the desert.† â€Å"This Dark Tower you keep talking about. That's the fort.† â€Å"Yes. And surrounding the fort, instead of wild Indians â€Å" â€Å"The Breakers. Led by Big Chief Abbalah.† Sophie murmurs: â€Å"The King is in his Tower, eating bread and honey. The Breakers in the basement, making all the money.† Jack feels a light but singularly unpleasant chill shake up his spine: he thinks of rat paws scuttering over broken glass. â€Å"What? Why do you say that?† Sophie looks at him, flushes, shakes her head, looks down. â€Å"It's what she says, sometimes. Judy. It's how I hear her, sometimes.† Parkus seizes one of the charred greensticks and draws in the rocky dust beside the figure-eight shape. â€Å"Fort here. Marauding Indians here, led by their merciless, evil and most likely insane chief. But over here † Off to the left, he draws a harsh arrow in the dirt. It points at the rudimentary shapes indicating the fort and the besieging Indians. â€Å"What always arrives at the last moment in all the best Lily Cavanaugh Westerns?† â€Å"The cavalry,† Jack says. â€Å"That's us, I suppose.† â€Å"No,† Parkus says. His tone is patient, but Jack suspects it is costing him a great effort to maintain that tone. â€Å"The cavalry is Roland of Gilead and his new gunslingers. Or so those of us who want the Tower to stand or to fall in its own time dare hope. The Crimson King hopes to hold Roland back, and to finish the job of destroying the Tower while he and his band are still at a distance. That means gathering all the Breakers he can, especially the telekinetics.† â€Å"Is Tyler Marshall â€Å" â€Å"Stop interrupting. This is difficult enough without that.† â€Å"You used to be a hell of a lot cheerier, Speedy,† Jack says reproachfully. For a moment he thinks his old friend is going to give him another tongue-lashing or perhaps even lose his temper completely and turn him into a frog but Parkus relaxes a little, and utters a laugh. Sophie looks up, relieved, and gives Jack's hand a squeeze. â€Å"Oh, well, maybe you're right to yank on my cord a little,† Parkus says. â€Å"Gettin' all wound up won't help anything, will it?† He touches the big iron on his hip. â€Å"I wouldn't be surprised if wearin' this thing has given me a few delusions of grandeur.† â€Å"It's a step or two up from amusement-park janitor,† Jack allows. â€Å"In both the Bible your world, Jack and the Book of Good Farming yours, Sophie dear there's a scripture that goes something like ? ®For in my kingdom there are many mansions.' Well, in the Court of the Crimson King there are many monsters.† Jack hears a short, hard laugh bolt out of his mouth. His old friend has made a typically tasteless policeman's joke, it seems. â€Å"They are the King's courtiers . . . his knights-errant. They have all sorts of tasks, I imagine, but in these last years their chief job has been to find talented Breakers. The more talented the Breaker, the greater the reward.† â€Å"They're headhunters,† Jack murmurs, and doesn't realize the resonance of the term until it's out of his mouth. He has used it in the business sense, but of course there is another, more literal meaning. Headhunters are cannibals. â€Å"Yes,† Parkus agrees. â€Å"And they have mortal subcontractors, who work for . . . one doesn't like to say for the joy of it, but what else could we call it?† Jack has a nightmarish vision then: a cartoon Albert Fish standing on a New York sidewalk with a sign reading WILL WORK FOR FOOD. He tightens his arm around Sophie. Her blue eyes turn to him, and he looks into them gladly. They soothe him. â€Å"How many Breakers did Albert Fish send his pal Mr. Monday?† Jack wants to know. â€Å"Two? Four? A dozen? And do they die off, at least, so the abbalah has to replace them?† â€Å"They don't,† Parkus replies gravely. â€Å"They are kept in a place a basement, yes, or a cavern where there is essentially no time.† â€Å"Purgatory. Christ.† â€Å"And it doesn't matter. Albert Fish is long gone. Mr. Monday is now Mr. Munshun. The deal Mr. Munshun has with your killer is a simple one: this Burnside can kill and eat all the children he wants, as long as they are untalented children. If he should find any who are talented any Breakers they are to be turned over to Mr. Munshun at once.† â€Å"Who will take them to the abbalah,† Sophie murmurs. â€Å"That's right,† Parkus says. Jack feels that he's back on relatively solid ground, and is extremely glad to be there. â€Å"Since Tyler hasn't been killed, he must be talented.† † ? ®Talented' is hardly the word. Tyler Marshall is, potentially, one of the two most powerful Breakers in all the history of all the worlds. If I can briefly return to the analogy of the fort surrounded by Indians, then we could say that the Breakers are like fire arrows shot over the walls . . . a new kind of warfare. But Tyler Marshall is no simple fire arrow. He's more like a guided missile. â€Å"Or a nuclear weapon.† Sophie says, â€Å"I don't know what that is.† â€Å"You don't want to,† Jack replies. â€Å"Believe me.† He looks down at the scribble of drawings in the dirt. Is he surprised that Tyler should be so powerful? No, not really. Not after experiencing the aura of strength surrounding the boy's mother. Not after meeting Judy's Twinner, whose plain dress and manner can't conceal a character that strikes him as almost regal. She's beautiful, but he senses that beauty is one of the least important things about her. â€Å"Jack?† Parkus asks him. â€Å"You all right?† There's no time to be anythin' else, his tone suggests. â€Å"Give me a minute,† Jack says. â€Å"We don't have much t â€Å" â€Å"That has been made perfectly clear to me,† Jack says, biting off the words, and he feels Sophie shift in surprise at his tone of voice. â€Å"Now give me a minute. Let me do my job.† From beneath a ruffle of green feathers, one of the parrot's heads mutters: â€Å"God loves the poor laborer.† The other replies: â€Å"Is that why he made so fucking many of them?† â€Å"All right, Jack,† Parkus says, and cocks his head up at the sky. Okay, what have we got here? Jack thinks. We've got a valuable little boy, and the Fisherman knows he's valuable. But this Mr. Munshun doesn't have him yet, or Speedy wouldn't be here. Deduction? Sophie, looking at him anxiously. Parkus, still looking up into the blameless blue sky above this borderland between the Territories what Judy Marshall calls Faraway and the Whatever Comes Next. Jack's mind is ticking faster now, picking up speed like an express train leaving the station. He is aware that the black man with the bald head is watching the sky for a certain malevolent crow. He is aware that the fair-skinned woman beside him is looking at him with the sort of fascination that could become love, given world enough and time. Mostly, though, he's lost in his own thoughts. They are the thoughts of a coppiceman. Now Bierstone's Burnside, and he's old. Old and not doing so well in the cognition department these days. I think maybe he's gotten caught between what he wants, which is to keep Tyler for himself, and what he's promised this Munshun guy. Somewhere there's a fuddled, creaky, dangerous mind trying to make itself up. If he decides to kill Tyler and stick him in the stewpot like the witch in â€Å"Hansel and Gretel,† that's bad for Judy and Fred. Not to mention Tyler, who may already have seen things that would drive a Marine combat vet insane. If the Fisherman turns the boy over to Mr. Munshun, it's bad for everyone in creation. No wonder Speedy said time was blowing in our teeth. â€Å"You knew this was coming, didn't you?† he says. â€Å"Both of you. You must have. Because Judy knew. She's been weird for months, long before the murders started.† Parkus shifts and looks away, uncomfortable. â€Å"I knew something was coming, yes there have been great disruptions on this side but I was on other business. And Sophie can't cross. She came here with the flying men and will go back the same way when our palaver's done.† Jack turns to her. â€Å"You are who my mother once was. I'm sure of it.† He supposes he isn't being entirely clear about this, but he can't help it; his mind is trying to go in too many directions at once. â€Å"You're Laura DeLoessian's successor. The Queen of this world.† Now Sophie is the one who looks uncomfortable. â€Å"I was nobody in the great scheme of things, really I wasn't, and that was the way I liked it. What I did mostly was write letters of commendation and thank people for coming to see me . . . only in my official capacity, I always said ? ®us.' I enjoyed walking, and sketching flowers, and cataloging them. I enjoyed hunting. Then, due to bad luck, bad times, and bad behavior, I found myself the last of the royal line. Queen of this world, as you say. Married once, to a good and simple man, but my Fred Marshall died and left me alone. Sophie the Barren.† â€Å"Don't,† Jack says. He is surprised at how deeply it hurts him to hear her refer to herself in this bitter, joking way. â€Å"Were you not single-natured, Jack, your Twinner would be my cousin.† She turns her slim fingers so that now she is gripping him instead of the other way around. When she speaks again, her voice is low and passionate. â€Å"Put all the great matters aside. All I know is that Tyler Marshall is Judy's child, that I love her, that I'd not see her hurt for all the worlds that are. He's the closest thing to a child of my own that I'll ever have. These things I know, and one other: that you're the only one who can save him.† â€Å"Why?† He has sensed this, of course why else in God's name is he here? but that doesn't lessen his bewilderment. â€Å"Why me?† â€Å"Because you touched the Talisman. And although some of its power has left you over the years, much still remains.† Jack thinks of the lilies Speedy left for him in Dale's bathroom. How the smell lingered on his hands even after he had given the bouquet itself to Tansy. And he remembers how the Talisman looked in the murmuring darkness of the Queen's Pavilion, rising brightly, changing everything before it finally vanished. He thinks: It's still changing everything. â€Å"Parkus.† Is it the first time he's called the other man the other coppiceman by that name? He doesn't know for sure, but he thinks it may be. â€Å"Yes, Jack.† â€Å"What's left of the Talisman is it enough? Enough for me to take on this Crimson King?† Parkus looks shocked in spite of himself. â€Å"Never in your life, Jack. Never in any life. The abbalah would blow you out like a candle. But it may be enough for you to take on Mr. Munshun to go into the furnace-lands and bring Tyler out.† â€Å"There are machines,† Sophie says. She looks caught in some dark and unhappy dream. â€Å"Red machines and black machines, all lost in smoke. There are great belts and children without number upon them. They trudge and trudge, turning the belts that turn the machines. Down in the foxholes. Down in the ratholes where the sun never shines. Down in the great caverns where the furnace-lands lie.† Jack is shaken to the bottom of his mind and spirit. He finds himself thinking of Dickens not Bleak House but Oliver Twist. And, of course he thinks of his conversation with Transy Freneau. At least Irma's not there, he thinks. Not in the furnace-lands, not she. She got dead, and a mean old man ate her leg. Tyler, though . . . Tyler . . . â€Å"They trudge until their feet bleed,† he mutters. â€Å"And the way there . . . ?† â€Å"I think you know it,† Parkus says. â€Å"When you find Black House, you'll find your way to the furnace-lands . . . the machines . . . Mr. Munshun . . . and Tyler.† â€Å"The boy is alive. You're sure of that.† â€Å"Yes.† Parkus and Sophie speak together. â€Å"And where is Burnside now? That information might speed things up a bit.† â€Å"I don't know,† Parkus says. â€Å"Christ, if you know who he was â€Å" â€Å"That was the fingerprints,† Parkus says. â€Å"The fingerprints on the telephone. Your first real idea about the case. The Wisconsin State Police got the Bierstone name back from the FBI's VICAP database. You have the Burnside name. That should be enough.† Wisconsin State Police, FBI, VICAP, database: these terms come out in good old American English, and in this place they sound unpleasant and foreign to Jack's ear. â€Å"How do you know all that?† â€Å"I have my sources in your world; I keep my ear to the ground. As you know from personal experience. And surely you're cop enough to do the rest on your own.† â€Å"Judy thinks you have a friend who can help,† Sophie says unexpectedly. â€Å"Dale? Dale Gilbertson?† Jack finds this a little hard to believe, but he supposes Dale may have uncovered something. â€Å"I don't know the name. Judy thinks he's like many here in Faraway. A man who sees much because he sees nothing.† Not Dale, after all. It's Henry she's talking about. Parkus rises to his feet. The heads of the parrot come up, revealing four bright eyes. Sacred and Profane flutters up to his shoulder and settles there. â€Å"I think our palaver is done,† Parkus says. â€Å"It must be done. Are you ready to go back, my friend?† â€Å"Yes. And I suppose I better take Green, little as I want to. I don't think he'd last long here.† â€Å"As you say.† Jack and Sophie, still holding hands, are halfway up the rise when Jack realizes Parkus is still standing in the speaking circle with his parrot on his shoulder. â€Å"Aren't you coming?† Parkus shakes his head. â€Å"We go different ways now, Jack. I may see you again.† If I survive, Jack thinks. If any of us survive. â€Å"Meantime, go your course. And be true.† Sophie drops another deep curtsey. â€Å"Sai.† Parkus nods to her and gives Jack Sawyer a little salute. Jack turns and leads Sophie back to the ruined hospital tent, wondering if he will ever see Speedy Parker again. Wendell Green ace reporter, fearless investigator, explicator of good and evil to the great unwashed sits in his former place, holding the crumpled foolscap in one hand and the batteries in the other. He has resumed muttering, and barely looks up when Sophie and Jack approach. â€Å"You'll do your best, won't you?† Sophie asks. â€Å"For her.† â€Å"And for you,† Jack says. â€Å"Listen to me, now. If this were to end with all of us still standing . . . and if I were to come back here . . .† He finds he can say no more. He's appalled at his temerity. This is a queen, after all. A queen. And he's . . . what? Trying to ask her for a date? â€Å"Perhaps,† she says, looking at him with her steady blue eyes. â€Å"Perhaps.† â€Å"Is it a perhaps you want?† he asks softly. â€Å"Yes.† He bends and brushes his lips over hers. It's brief, barely a kiss at all. It is also the best kiss of his life. â€Å"I feel like fainting,† she tells him when he straightens up again. â€Å"Don't joke with me, Sophie.† She takes his hand and presses it against the underswell of her left breast. He can feel her heart pounding. â€Å"Is this a joke? If she were to run faster, she'd catch her feet and fall.† She lets him go, but he holds his hand where it is a moment longer, palm curved against that springing warmth. â€Å"I'd come with you if I could,† she says. â€Å"I know that.† He looks at her, knowing if he doesn't get moving now, right away, he never will. It's wanting not to leave her, but that's not all. The truth is that he's never been more frightened in his life. He searches for something mundane to bring him back to earth to slow the pounding of his own heart and finds the perfect object in the muttering creature that is Wendell Green. He drops to one knee. â€Å"Are you ready, big boy? Want to take a trip on the mighty Mississip'?† â€Å"Don't. Touch. Me.† And then, in a nearly poetic rush: â€Å"Fucking Hollywood asshole!† â€Å"Believe me, if I didn't have to, I wouldn't. And I plan to wash my hands just as soon as I get the chance.† He looks up at Sophie and sees all the Judy in her. All the beauty in her. â€Å"I love you,† he says. Before she can reply, he seizes Wendell's hand, closes his eyes, and flips.

Code of conduct

Those principles operate in injunction with our values (as described by our CEO above) and our policies and procedures. At the heart of each of the principles is the imperative to uphold the reputation of the Weakest Group. We all have a role to play in ensuring that the Group's reputation is strengthened and not harmed by our conduct, whatever work we do and wherever we are located. Remember this simple test to determine if our proposed conduct is appropriate: would we be happy to see that conduct reported on the front page of a newspaper?The Code has the full support of the Board and the Executive Team and we take compliance with the Code very seriously. If you breach the Code then you may face disciplinary action, including termination of your employment. You also have a responsibility to report immediately any breaches by a colleague to your manager or team leader or your Human Resources or Compliance business unit representative. Do the same even if you are unsure if there has b een a breach.Our Whistler's Protection Policy outlines all reporting channels, as well as the process for raising concerns anonymously. Here is some more detail about each of the principles in the Code. We do the right thing because it is the right thing to do. Honesty and integrity go hand-in-hand. They guide us in making decisions, so that we make the correct choices between right and wrong. There is no room for compromise: if we do not act with honesty and integrity 100% of the time, we are undeserving of the trust of our customers, colleagues, community and shareholders.Here are some examples of how we act with honesty and integrity: we do not use funds, property or information belonging to he Weakest Group or our customers for our personal benefit and nor do we help others to do so; we immediately report dishonest behavior by our colleagues and customers; we do not offer or give bribes, facilitation payments or other benefits to influence others, nor accept bribes or other bene fits; we keep records of our dealings with customers and suppliers that are accurate and transparent.If we fail to comply with laws and regulations both the Weakest Group and the individual employee may face criminal sanctions or other serious consequences. If o are unsure what laws and regulations apply then contact Legal & Secretariat. We must also comply with the Weakest Group's internal policies and procedures, including this Code.If you are unsure what policies and procedures apply to your work then talk to your manager or team leader. If there is anything inconsistent between the laws and regulations applying where you work and our policies and procedures, then you need to meet whichever sets the higher standard of behavior. If you believe such an inconsistency exists, you should talk to your Customers can be confident

Manejar en EEUU auto con placas de México

Manejar en EEUU auto con placas de Mà ©xico Es obvio que en la zona fronteriza los turistas mexicanos pueden ingresar a Estados Unidos manejando sus autos con placas mexicanas. Adems,  nada impide que el viaje se extienda mucho ms all de la frontera y alcance cualquiera de los 48 estados continentales contiguos del paà ­s. Es decir, se excluye Alaska y Hawaii. Para manejar sin problemas en Estados Unidos con un auto con placas de Mà ©xico este artà ­culo explica cules son los requisitos que se deben cumplir, con informacià ³n detallada sobre el seguro del auto. Adems, se  detalla quà © acciones se deben evitar y, finalmente, informacià ³n general pero relevante sobre cruce de frontera y procedimientos migratorios y de aduanas que deben ser tenidos en cuenta. Requerimientos para manejar un auto con placas mexicanas en EE.UU. Todos los dà ­as miles de autos mexicanos cruzan la frontera por los puentes internacionales. Generalmente, limitan sus viajes a unas pocas millas dentro del territorio estadounidense y se regresan inmediatamente pero nada impide estancias ms largas y alejadas de la zona fronteriza. Para no tener problemas, hay que tener en cuenta los siguientes puntos: En primer lugar, el chà ³fer mexicano debe tener una licencia de manejar de su paà ­s vlida. Adems, si va a adentrarse a estados no fronterizos serà ­a conveniente que antes de salir de Mà ©xico adquiriese una licencia internacional de manejar, que es una traduccià ³n a varios idiomas, incluido el inglà ©s, de su licencia. En segundo lugar, el automà ³vil debe tener placas y registracià ³n vlidas.   En tercer lugar, tener en cuenta que en las aduanas y fronteras de los Estados Unidos, los  autos viejos  pueden ser rechazados para ingresar  por incumplir con los requerimientos medioambientales. Por lo tanto, verificar que se est al dà ­a en el cumplimiento de estos requisitos, principalmente cuando se trata de un auto viejo. En cuarto lugar, un auto mexicano puede estar en manos de un turista hasta un mximo de un aà ±o. Pero,  si se va a estar ms de 30 dà ­as en el mismo estado, comprobar con el Department of Motor Vehicles del estado en el que se encuentre sobre si hay algà ºn requerimiento adicional que cumplir. Destacar que aunque el auto puede estar legalmente en EE.UU., en teorà ­a, hasta un aà ±o, eso no quiere decir que el turista que lo maneja o todos los que viajan en su interior puedan estar legalmente en Estados Unidos por todo ese tiempo. Hay que mirar las condiciones de la visa americana con la que se ingresa al paà ­s. Si se tiene una lser, el tiempo que se puede permanecer en Estados Unidos y los lugares a los que se puede viajar son ms restringidos que si se ingresa con una visa de turista. Si se tiene una de estas visas, verificar en el I-94 cunto tiempo es posible permanecer legalmente en EE.UU. Generalmente la estancia se permite por 180 dà ­as, pero puede ser por menos tiempo. Adems, si se quiere prolongar la estancia es posible solicitar una extensià ³n de la visa de turista. Seguro de auto mexicano en carreteras de EE.UU. Quiz el requisito fundamental es contar con una pà ³liza de seguro de auto que dà © cobertura, como mà ­nimo, para lesiones de ocupantes y daà ±os a terceros en sus personas y/o bienes. Y hay que obtener una certificacià ³n de esa pà ³liza en inglà ©s. En muchas ocasiones, este seguro mexicano no cubre eventualidades que puedan ocurrir manejando el auto en Estados Unidos. En este caso, hay que contratar uno que sà ­ brinde esta cobertura. Adems, es importante incluir en esa pà ³liza a todos los posible conductores que vayan a manejar el auto en Estados Unidos, si es que va a hacerlo ms de un ocupante del automà ³vil. Estos seguros se pueden contratar por un sà ³lo dà ­a, por meses o hasta un aà ±o. Es muy importante tener en cuenta que si se planea viajar por varios estados, la cobertura mà ­nima puede variar. Asegurarse de cumplir con las leyes estatales que se pueden consultar en el Departamento de Vehà ­culos a Motor de cada estado (liability, en inglà ©s). Varias aseguradoras mexicanas ofrecen este tipo de pà ³liza. Tambià ©n es posible contratarla cerca de la frontera, del lado mexicano.  Si la policà ­a para al auto, sin duda van a pedir que se enseà ±e esta certificacià ³n. Si se tiene alguna inquietud,  marcar al telà ©fono de la CIAM. Se puede llamar desde Estados Unidos y tambià ©n desde Mà ©xico.  Resuelven dudas de diverso tipo, incluidas las que afectan a seguros de auto  y son muy competentes en sus respuestas. Cà ³mo evitar problemas manejando en EE.UU. un auto con placas mexicanas El asunto del manejo en Estados Unidos de automà ³viles con placas extranjeras est regulado por ley federal y por las leyes estatales. La federal es el tratado de 1949 conocido como Inter-American Convenction Road Traffic. Si la policà ­a para el automà ³vil y uno de los ocupantes resulta ser un inmigrante indocumentado, es posible que el auto acabe embargado por la Policà ­a de Fronteras (ICE, por sus siglas en inglà ©s) y que acabe siendo subastado. Es decir, que el dueà ±o se quede sin su auto. En los casos de multas por una infraccià ³n de trnsito, es conveniente pagarla. En la actualidad, las computadoras en los controles migratorios de Estados Unidos estn conectados a una base de datos que se llama TECS que contiene, entre otras, informacià ³n que proveen los Departamentos de Vehà ­culos de los diferentes estados y estn notificando multas de trfico, aunque no es asà ­ en todos los casos. Finalmente, los  ciudadanos americanos y los residentes permanentes legales con licencias de manejar de los Estados Unidos (que es la que tienen que tener) no pueden manejar en el paà ­s un automà ³vil con placas mexicanas. Est prohibido, del mismo modo que los mexicanos residentes en Mà ©xico  no pueden por ley manejar en su paà ­s un auto con placas de los Estados Unidos. Tips à ºtiles para turistas mexicanos en Estados Unidos   Para evitar problemas muy serios como quedarse en situacià ³n de ilegalidad, cancelacià ³n o revocacià ³n de visas o que en el control migratorio simplemente impidan el ingreso al paà ­s, es necesario tener en cuenta asunto como con  Ã‚  cunta frecuencia se puede ingresar como turista a Estados Unidos  y tener muy claro quà ©Ã‚  pasa si se queda en Estados Unidos ms tiempo del permitido. Tambià ©n es interesante  saber  cunto dinero se puede  ingresar legalmente a Estados Unidos  y, si trae mascota, asegurarse de que goce de buen estado de salud y de que tenga todos los documentos en regla. Lo que se pide va a depender del lugar de procedencia y  del tipo de mascota.   A la hora de cruzar la frontera terrestre entre Mà ©xico y Estados Unidos es posible acelerar el paso por el control migratorio si se forma parte del programa  SENTRI. En los dems casos, conviene evitar los dà ­as y horas de mucho trfico, cuando los retrasos pueden ser enormes en los puentes internacionales.   Finalmente, se recomienda tomar este  test o quiz  sobre la visa de turista  para asegurarte de que tienes los conocimientos que debes saber para sacarla y conservarla.   Este artà ­culo no es asesorà ­a legal para ningà ºn caso especà ­fico. Es sà ³lo informacià ³n de carcter general.

Different Types of Canvas Essays - Body Modification, Steve Haworth

Different Types of Canvas Essays - Body Modification, Steve Haworth Different Types of Canvas Misericordia University Different Type of Canvas How many different types of canvases for art can there be. There is cotton and linen and even stretched but I have chosen the least thought about canvas probably of them all. The human body is the most unique beautiful yet slightly grotesque canvas I can think of. Picture a normal 54 year old man from Nevada, nothing special right until you take one view of him. Dennis Avner was this man, he was walking art. A unique form that didnt involve a simple paint brush or video but the permanent modification of a beautiful body making into a beautiful and grotesque work of art all at the same time. He has stepped into the grotesque by defying boundaries of society, by deforming his body into a new piece of art, and by having a lack of fixity. He was constantly changing and modifying his body. The Artist The artist isnt your typical artist as most would think of. Steve Haworth is a body modification artist based out of Phoenix, Arizona. He is responsible for making subdermal and transdermal implants popular. Specialized instruments were designed just for processes called dermal elevators. Surface bars, ear shaping, tongue splitting and magnetic implants are some of the modifications he has performed. According to Peter Overton of Grinding interview, If body modification is an art form, then Steve Haworth is a modern master. In a makeshift surgery at his home in Arizona he transforms thousands of individuals helping them find their inner freak. Remarkably, he has no formal medical qualifications, and is entirely self-taught. Haworths father was a manufacturer of surgical equipment. Steve followed in that eventually branching into piercing jewelry and body modification instruments. Haworth and his partner Jesse Jarrell created a silicone product that is currently used for large gauge piercings. Haworth brought about a whole new era of body modification according to BMEzine founder Shannon Larratt One could make the argument that Steve Haworth birthed the entire modern body modification community before him there was simply piercing, scarification, and tattooing all merely modern implementations of traditional art forms. In fact, Steve Haworths development of 3-D art implants is the single most significant thing to happen to body modification in the last 5,000 years. The Canvas The canvas is unique in that it is a living canvas and one of a kind. As Connelly states a body in the act of becoming never finished, never completed (Connelly 2003). This canvas lacks stability in the fact that the human body is constantly changing and becoming something different. Haworth causes his canvas to be ever changing by continually modifying the canvas a little at a time. Artists can choose canvas material and come close to duplicating the artwork but a living canvas is one of a kind and can never be duplicated by the artist or anyone else. This canvas is Dennis Avner also known as catman. Dennis was a normal navy man at one point in his life until advised by the chief of his clan to follow the ways of the tiger which was Denniss totem animal. The start of his body modifications were in the early 1980s. Dennis has had facial tattoos to resemble the tiger stripes. He has also received facial and dermal implants that were done by the body modification artist Steve Haworth. Among some of the body art that Steve Haworth has done include subdermal implants to change the shape of his brow, forehead, and bridge of his nose. Septum relocation was done to flatten his nose to look more like a feline nose. Haworth injected silicone into Denniss lips, cheeks, chin, and other parts of his face to define the feline aspects. Three of the more permanent body modifications are the bifurcating of his upper lip, the filing and removal of teeth to have fitted fangs and sharpened teeth and the surgical reshaping of his ears to be more pointed. Along with all these he also had dermal implants placed on his upper and sides of his lip so he would be able to screw in whiskers to further resemble his cat totem. All of these are grotesque because they are the aberration from ideal form or

Top 10 Hacks That Will Super Charge Your Resume

Top 10 Hacks That Will Super Charge Your Resume GoGirl Finance’s Elana Konstant has some vital tips for your resume in the era of online applications. True, the first set of eyes on your resume will probably be a digital reader looking for industry buzzwords, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t crucial steps of preparing your resume. Pay close attention, and get ready to improve your hiring odds.   Here are some of the best resume tips in 2016 that’ll help land your next job interview. 1. Know your targetGet really friendly with â€Å"save as† while updating your resume. With every job you apply for, parse the job posting closely to find out what responsibilities and experiences they’re seeking in an ideal candidate. Highlight the most relevant features wherever you can, and craft a specifically tailored version of your resume to submit. Make sure you set up a naming system for your files so you don’t get them confused (I suggested [Your Last Name] _ [Company Name] _ [Date].doc).2. Prioritize your achievementsWhen summarizing each job description, put the most relevant achievements first and list the rest in descending order of relevance. Consider having a brief summary section at the top of your resume to grab the reader right away. Once you’ve acquired a significant employment history, you can also move your education to the end of your resume instead of leading with it.3. Deliver your value in your cover letterYour cover letter should always seek to answer the questions â€Å"Why this company?† â€Å"Why you?† and â€Å"Why right now?†, overtly or subtly. In Konstant’s words, â€Å"be forceful in selling your experience, skills, and drive. Always put yourself in the perspective of the employer and be sure your resume responds to the listed job requirements.†4. Use industry key termsUsing precise industry terms shows that you’re knowledgable about the position, the company, and the field as a whole. Harvest k eywords from the job description, industry research and sites like LinkedIn or Glassdoor, ask prospective colleagues for informational interviews over coffee, and use the words as early in your materials as possible.5. Be specific about what you achieved in your previous jobsWhen describing your previous employment history, be as particular as you can about defining the scale and scope of your responsibilities. Did you secure impressive grant amounts? Publish an imposing number of papers? Can you point to individual successes that can be quantified and measured?6. Gain more experienceYou may be seeking jobs you aren’t yet experienced enough to earn–figure out what outside certifications or internship experiences you can pursue to boost your bona fides. Consulting can offer hands-on experience without even requiring you to leave your current job, if you have one. Don’t wait to be hired to become proficient in your field.7. Name dropA writer friend of mine precede s every pitch to a magazine or online journal by asking her Facebook network, â€Å"Who do I know at X?† Most of the time it yields her an editorial contact or a tip for how to frame her proposal, which makes bypassing gatekeepers that much easier. Whenever possible, find out the name of the hiring person (something as simple as calling the switchboard can get it done!) and direct your cover letter to them specifically. If you were referred by a colleague, mention them in your first sentence.8. Maximize real estateFind the sweet spot between an overloaded, cluttered page and a bare listing of your accomplishments. For each piece of experience, have a topic sentence with action verbs, and a list of specific responsibilities and accomplishments. Aim for a one page document unless they’ve asked for a CV.9. Be consistentThis is a chance to show off your attention to detail–make sure you’re formatting places, dates, and company names the same way, every time. Even an errant space can make your layout look sloppy. Use a fresh, but non-novelty, font, bold your job titles, and fixate on commas and periods until you’ve achieved a uniform, polished look.10. ProofreadGet an extra set of eyes on your materials. Inaccuracies are bad, but typos and careless errors can be even worse. Miscommunications can be explained but, not having taken the time to eradicate errors can be a fatal mistake.