Imprisonment and Social Control Essay -- Prison Justice

Imprisonment is one of the primary ways in which social control may be achieved; the Sage Dictionary of Criminology defines social control as a concept used to describe all the ways in which conformity may be achieved. Throughout time imprisonment and its ideas around social control have varied. Imprisonment has not always been used for punishment, nor has it always thought about the prisoners themselves. However when looking at imprisonment it is important to consider the new penology. Therefore, it needs to be clear what the new penology is. The new penology is said, not to be about punishing individuals or about rehabilitating them, but about identifying and managing unruly groups in society. It is concerned with the managerial processes, not the individual’s behaviour or even community organisation. All in all, its goal is to make crime tolerable, not to eliminate it entirely. (Feeley, M and Simon, J). Therefore the New Penology is not about the reform of individuals but the control of populations as a whole, with imprisonment focusing on particular offenders who are defined as ‘persistent’ or ‘high rate’. In light of this, the history of imprisonment, the purposes of imprisonment and indeed the question of whether it works as a form of social control or not all need to be addressed, as well as looking into the critics of the new penology. Imprisonment has a number of purposes, the first being punishment, which brings with it the idea of retribution and revenge. The second purpose is incapacitation, this looks at the protection of society and the length of time the individual must serve in prison. Deterrence is the third purpose; it attempts to prevent the individual committing any future crime and goes some way to deter ... ...ology. Devon: Willan Publishing, pp 684-713. Sampson, R, and Laub, J. (1933), ‘Individual Factors in Crime’, in Newburn, T. Criminology. Devon: Willan Publishing, pp. 843. Shichor, D. (1997) ‘Three Strikes as a Public Policy: The Convergence of the New Penology and the McDonaldization of Punishment’, Crime Delinquency, (43), pp. 470-492. Spelman, W. (2000) ‘What Recent Studies Do (and Dont) Tell Us About Imprisonment and Crime’. In Michael, T. Crime and Justice: A Review of Research. (3). Chicargo: University of Chicargo Press. Wilson, D. (2006) ‘Social Control’, The Sage Dictionary of Criminology: 391-392. London: Sage Publications. Woolfe, H. And Tumim, S. (1991). ‘Official Aims of Imprisonment’, in Cavadino, M. and Dignan, J. The Penal System: An Introduction. London: Sage Publications. Zedner, L (2004). Criminal Justice. New York, USA: Oxford University.

The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove Chapter 4~5

Four Estelle Boyet As September's promise wound down, a strange unrest came over the people of Pine Cove, due in no small part to the fact that many of them were going into withdrawal from their medications. It didn't happen all at once – the streets were not full of middle-class junkies rocking and sweating and begging for a fix – but slowly as the autumn days became shorter. And as far as they knew (because Val Riordan had called every one of them), they were experiencing the onset of a mild seasonal syndrome, sort of like spring fever. Call it autumn malaise. The nature of the medications kept the symptoms spread out over the next few weeks. Prozac and some of the older antidepressants took almost a month to leave the system, so those people slipped into the fray more slowly than those on Zoloft or Paxil or Wellbutrin, which was flushed from the system in only a day or two, leaving the deprived with symptoms re-sembling a low-grade flu, then a scattered disorientation akin to a temporary case of attention deficit disorder, and, in some, a rebound of depression that dropped on them like a smoky curtain. One of the first to feel the effects was Estelle Boyet, a local artist, successful and semifamous for her seascapes and idealized paintings of Pine Cove shore life. Her prescription had run out a day before Dr. Val had replaced the supply with sugar pills, so she was already in the midst of withdrawal when she took the first dose of the placebo. Estelle was sixty, a stout, vital woman who wore brightly colored caftans and let her long gray hair fly around her shoulders as she moved through life with an energy and determination that inspired envy from women half her age. For thirty years she had been a teacher in the decaying and increas-ingly dangerous Los Angeles Unified School District, teaching eighth graders the difference between acrylics and oils, a brush and a pallet knife, Dali and Degas, and using her job and her marriage as a justification for never producing any art herself. She had married right out of art school: Joe Boyet, a promising young businessman, the only man she had ever loved and only the third she had ever slept with. When Joe had died eight years ago, she had nearly lost her mind. She tried to throw herself into her teaching, hoping that by inspiring the children she might find some reason to go on herself. In the face of the escalating violence in her school, she resigned herself to wearing a bullet-proof vest under her artist smocks and even brought in some paintball guns to try to gain the pupils' interest, but the latter only backfired into several incidents of drive-by abstract expressionism, and soon she received death threats for not allowing students to fashion crack pipes in ceramics class. Her students – children living in a hyperadult world where play-ground disputes were settled with 9 mms – eventually drove her out of teaching. Estelle lost her last reason to go on. The school psychologist re-ferred her to a psych iatrist, who put her on antidepressants and recommen-ded immediate retirement and relocation. Estelle moved to Pine Cove, where she began to paint and where she fell under the wing of Dr. Valerie Riordan. No wonder then that Estelle's painting had taken a dark turn over the last few weeks. She painted the ocean. Every day. Waves and spray, rocks and serpentine strands of kelp on the beach, otters and seals and pelicans and gulls. Her canvases sold in the local gal-leries as fast as she could paint them. But lately the inner light at the heart of her waves, titanium white and aquamarine, had taken on a dark shadow. Every beach scene spoke of desolation and dead fish. She dreamed of le-viathan shadows stalking her under the waves and she woke shivering and afraid. It was getting more difficult to get her paints and easel to the shore each day. The open ocean and the blank canvas were just too fright-ening. Joe is gone, she thought. I have no career and no friends and I produce nothing but kitschy seascapes as flat and soulless as a velvet Elvis. I'm afraid of everything. Val Riordan had called her, insisting that she come to a group therapy session for widows, but Estelle had said no. Instead, one evening, after finishing a tormented painting of a beached dolphin, she left her brushes to harden with acrylic and headed downtown – anywhere where she didn't have to look at this shit she'd been calling art. She ended up at the Head of the Slug Saloon – the first bar she'd set foot in since college. The Slug was full of Blues and smoke and people chasing shots and running from sadness. If they'd been dogs, they would have all been in the yard eating grass and trying to yak up whatever was making them feel so lousy. Not a bone gnawed, not a ball chased – all tails went unwagged. Oh, life is a fast cat, a short leash, a flea in that place where you just can't scratch. It was dog sad in there, and Catfish Jefferson was the designated howler. The moon was in his eye and he was singing up the sum of human suffering in A-minor, while he worked that bottleneck slide on the National guitar until it sounded like a slow wind through heartstrings. He was grinning. Of the hundred or so people in the Slug, half were experiencing some sort of withdrawal from their medications. There was a self-pity contingent at the bar, staring into their drinks and rocking back and forth to the Delta rhythms. At the tables, the more social of the de-pressed were whining and slurring their problems into each other's ears and occasionally trading hugs or curses. Over by the pool table stood the agitated and the aggressive, the people looking for someone to blame. These were mostly men, and Theophilus Crowe was keeping an eye on them from his spot at the bar. Since the death of Bess Leander, there had been a fight in the Slug almost every night. In addition, there were more pukers, more screamers, more criers, and more unwanted advances stifled with slaps. Theo had been very busy. So had Mavis Sand. Mavis was happy about it. Estelle came through the doors in her paint-spattered overalls and Shetland sweater, her hair pulled back in a long gray braid. Just inside, she paused as the music and the smoke washed over her. Some Mexican laborers were standing there in a group, drinking Budweisers, and one of them whistled at her. â€Å"I'm an old lady,† Estelle said. â€Å"Shame on you.† She pushed her way through the crowd to the bar and ordered a white wine. Mavis served it in a plastic beer cup. (She was serving everything in plastic lately. Evidently, the Blues made people want to break glass – on each other.) â€Å"Busy?† Estelle said, although she had nothing to compare it to. â€Å"The Blues sure packs 'em in,† Mavis said. â€Å"I don't much care for the Blues,† said Estelle. â€Å"I enjoy Classical music.† â€Å"Three bucks,† said Mavis. She took Estelle's money and moved to the other end of the bar. Estelle felt as if she'd been slapped in the face. â€Å"Don't mind Mavis,† a man's voice said. â€Å"She's always cranky.† Estelle looked up, caught a shirt button, then looked up farther to find Theo's smile. She had never met the constable, but she knew who he was. â€Å"I don't even know why I came in here. I'm not a drinker.† â€Å"Something going around,† Theo said. â€Å"I think maybe we're going to have a stormy winter or something. People are coming out of the woodwork.† They exchanged introductions and Theo complimented Estelle on her paintings, which he'd seen in the local galleries. Estelle dismissed the compliment. â€Å"This seems like a strange place to find the constable,† Estelle said. Theo showed her the cell phone on his belt. â€Å"Base of operations,† he said. â€Å"Most of the trouble has been starting in here anyway. If I'm here already, I can stop it before it escalates.† â€Å"Very conscientious of you.† â€Å"No, I'm just lazy,† Theo said. â€Å"And tired. In the last three weeks I've been called to five domestic disputes, ten fights, two people who barricaded themselves in the bathroom and threatened suicide, a guy who was going house to house knocking the heads off garden gnomes with a sledgehammer, and a woman who tried to take her husband's eye out with a spoon.† â€Å"Oh my. Sounds like one day in the life of an L.A. cop.† â€Å"This isn't L.A.,† Theo said. â€Å"I don't mean to complain, but I'm not really prepared for a crime wave.† â€Å"And there's nowhere left to run,† Estelle said. â€Å"Pardon?† â€Å"People come here to run away from conflict, don't you think? Come to a small town to get out of the violence and the competition in the city. If you can't handle it here, there's nowhere else to go. You might as well give up.† â€Å"Well, that's a little cynical. I thought artists were supposed to be idealists.† â€Å"Scratch a cynic and you'll find a disappointed romantic,† Estelle said. â€Å"That's you?† Theo asked. â€Å"A disappointed romantic?† â€Å"The only man I ever loved died.† â€Å"I'm sorry,† Theo said. â€Å"Me too.† She drained her cup of wine. â€Å"Easy on that, Estelle. It doesn't help.† â€Å"I'm not a drinker. I just had to get out of the house.† There was some shouting over by the pool table. â€Å"My presence is required,† Theo said. â€Å"Excuse me.† He made his way through the crowd to where two men were squaring off to fight. Estelle signaled Mavis for a refill and turned to watch Theo try to make peace. Catfish Jefferson sang a sad song about a mean old woman doing him wrong. That's me, Estelle thought. A mean old worthless woman. Self-medication was working by midnight. Most of the customers at the Slug had given in and started clapping and wailing along with Catfish's Blues. Quite a few had given up and gone home. By closing time, there were only five people left in the Slug and Mavis was cackling over a drawer full of money. Catfish Jefferson put down his National steel guitar and picked up the two-gallon pickle jar that held his tips. Dollar bills spilled over the top, change skated in the bottom, and here and there in the middle fives and tens struggled for air. There was even a twenty down there, and Catfish dug in after it like a kid going for a Cracker Jack prize. He carried the jar to the bar and plopped down next to Estelle, who was gloriously, eloquently crocked. â€Å"Hey, baby,† Catfish said. â€Å"You like the Blues?† Estelle searched the air for the source of the question, as if it might have come from a moth spiraling around one of the lights behind the bar. Her gaze finally settled on the Bluesman and she said, â€Å"You're very good. I was going to leave, but I liked the music.† â€Å"Well, you done stayed now,† Catfish said. â€Å"Look at this.† He shook the money jar. â€Å"I got me upward o' two hundred dollar here, and that mean old woman owe me least that much too. What you say we take a pint and my guitar and go down to the beach, have us a party?† â€Å"I'd better get home,† Estelle said. â€Å"I have to paint in the morning.† â€Å"You a painter? I never knowed me a painter. What you say we go down to the beach and watch us a sunrise?† â€Å"Wrong coast,† Estelle said. â€Å"The sun comes up over the mountains.† Catfish laughed. â€Å"See, you done saved me a heap of waiting already. Let's you and me go down to the beach.† â€Å"No, I can't.† â€Å"It 'cause I'm Black, ain't it?† â€Å"No.† â€Å"‘Cause I'm old, right?† â€Å"No.† â€Å"‘Cause I'm bald. You don't like old bald men, right?† â€Å"No!† Estelle said. â€Å"‘Cause I'm a musician. You heard we irresponsible?† â€Å"No.† â€Å"‘Cause I'm hung like a bull, right?† â€Å"No!† Estelle said. Catfish laughed again. â€Å"Well, you wouldn't mind spreadin that one around town just the same, would you?† â€Å"How would I know how you're hung?† â€Å"Well,† Catfish said, pausing and grinning, â€Å"you could go to the beach with me.† â€Å"You are a nasty and persistent old man, aren't you, Mr. Jefferson?† Estelle asked. Catfish bowed his shining head, â€Å"I truly am, miss. I truly am nasty and persistent. And I am too old to be trouble. I admits it.† He held out a long, thin hand. â€Å"Let's have us a party on the beach.† Estelle felt like she'd just been bamboozled by the devil. Something smooth and vibrant under that gritty old down-home shuck. Was this the dark shadow her paintings kept finding in the surf? She took his hand. â€Å"Let's go to the beach.† â€Å"Ha!† Catfish said. Mavis pulled a Louisville Slugger from behind the bar and held it out to Estelle. â€Å"Here, you wanna borrow this?† They found a niche in the rocks that sheltered them from the wind. Catfish dumped sand from his wing tips and shook his socks out before laying them out to dry. â€Å"That was a sneaky old wave.† â€Å"I told you to take off your shoes,† Estelle said. She was more amused than she felt she had a right to be. A few sips from Catfish's pint had kept the cheap white wine from going sour in her stomach. She was warm, despite the chill wind. Catfish, on the other hand, looked miserable. â€Å"Never did like the ocean much,† Catfish said. â€Å"Too many sneaky things down there. Give a man the creeps, that's what it does.† â€Å"If you don't like the ocean, then why did you ask me to come to the beach?† â€Å"The tall man said you like to paint pictures of the beach.† â€Å"Lately, the ocean's been giving me a bit of the creeps too. My paintings have gone dark.† Catfish wiped sand from between his toes with a long finger. â€Å"You think you can paint the Blues?† â€Å"You ever seen Van Gogh?† Catfish looked out to sea. A three-quarter moon was pooling like mercury out there. â€Å"Van Gogh†¦Van Gogh†¦fiddle player outta St. Louis?† â€Å"That's him,† Estelle said. Catfish snatched the pint out of her hand and grinned. â€Å"Girl, you drink a man's liquor and lie to him too. I know who Vincent Van Gogh is.† Estelle couldn't remember the last time she'd been called a girl, but she was pretty sure she hadn't liked hearing it as much as she did now. She said, â€Å"Who's lying now? Girl?† â€Å"You know, under that big sweater and them overalls, they might be a girl. Then again, I could be wrong.† â€Å"You'll never know.† â€Å"I won't? Now that is some sad stuff there.† He picked up his guitar, which had been leaning on a rock, and began playing softly, using the surf as a backbeat. He sang about wet shoes, running low on liquor, and a wind that chilled right to the bone. Estelle closed her eyes and swayed to the music. She realized that this was the first time she'd felt good in weeks. He stopped abruptly. â€Å"I'll be damned. Look at that.† Estelle opened her eyes and looked toward the waterline where Catfish was pointing. Some fish had run up on the beach and were flopping around in the sand. â€Å"You ever see anything like that?† Estelle shook her head. More fish were coming out of the surf. Beyond the breakers, the water was boiling with fish jumping and thrashing. A wave rose up as if being pushed from underneath. â€Å"There's something moving out there.† Catfish picked up his shoes. â€Å"We gots to go.† Estelle didn't even think of protesting. â€Å"Yes. Now.† She thought about the huge shadows that kept appearing under the waves in her paintings. She grabbed Catfish's shoes, jumped off the rock, and started down the beach to the stairs that led up to a bluff where Catfish's station wagon waited. â€Å"Come on.† â€Å"I'm comin'.† Catfish spidered down the rock and stepped after her. At the car, both of them winded and leaning on the fenders, Catfish was digging in his pocket for the keys when they heard the roar. The roar of a thousand phlegmy lions – equal amounts of wetness, fury, and volume. Estelle felt her ribs vibrate with the noise. â€Å"Jesus! What was that?† â€Å"Get in the car, girl.† Estelle climbed into the station wagon. Catfish was already fumbling the key into the ignition. The car fired up and he threw it into drive, kicking up gravel as he pulled away. â€Å"Wait, your shoes are on the roof.† â€Å"He can have them,† Catfish said. â€Å"They better than the ones he ate last time.† â€Å"He? What the hell was that? You know what that was?† â€Å"I'll tell you soon as I'm done havin this heart attack.† Five The Sea Beast The great Sea Beast paused in his pursuit of the delicious radioactive aroma and sent a subsonic message out to a gray whale passing several miles ahead of him. Roughly translated, it said, â€Å"Hey, baby, how's about you and I eat a few plankton and do the wild thing.† The gray whale continued her relentless swim south and replied with a subsonic thrum that translated, â€Å"I know who you are. Stay away from me.† The Sea Beast swam on. During his journey he had eaten a basking shark, a few dolphins, and several hundred tuna. His focus had changed from food to sex. As he approached the California coast, the radioactive scent began to diminish to almost nothing. The leak at the power plant had been discovered and fixed. He found himself less than a mile offshore with a belly full of shark – and no memory of why he'd left his volcanic nest. But there was a buzz reaching his predator's senses from shore, the listless re-solve of prey that has given up: depression. Warm-blooded food, dolphins, and whales sent off the same signal sometimes. A large school of food was just asking to be eaten, right near the edge of the sea. He stopped out past the surf line and came to the surface in the middle of a kelp bed, his massive head breaking though strands of kelp like a zombie pickup truck breaking sod as it rises from the grave. Then he heard it. A hated sound. The sound of an enemy. It had been half a century since the Sea Beast had left the water, and land was not his natural domain, but his instinct to attack overwhelmed his sense of self-preservation. He threw back his head, shaking the great purple gills that stood out on his neck like trees, and blew the water from his vestigial lungs. Breath burned down his cavernous throat for the first time in fifty years and came out in a horrendous roar of pain and anger. Three of the protective ocular membranes slid back from his eyes like electric car windows. allow-ing him to see in the bitter air. He thrashed his tail, pumped his great webbed feet, and torpedoed toward the shore. Gabe It had been almost ten years since Gabe Fenton had dissected a dog, but now, at three o'clock in the morning, he was thinking seriously about taking a scalpel to Skinner, his three-year-old Labrador retriever, who was deep in the throes of a psychotic barking fit. Skinner had been banished to the porch that afternoon, after he had taken a roll in a dead seagull and refused to go into the surf or get near the hose to be washed off. To Skinner, dead bird was the smell of romance. Gabe crawled out of bed and padded to the door in his boxers, scooping up a hiking boot along the way. He was a biologist, held a Ph.D. in animal behavior from Stanford, so it was with great academic credibility that he opened the door and winged the boot at his dog, following it with the behavior-reinforcing command of: â€Å"Skinner, shut the fuck up!† Skinner paused in his barking fit long enough to duck under the flying L. L. Bean, then, true to his breeding, retrieved it from the washbasin that he used as a water dish and brought it back to the doorway where Gabe stood. Skinner set the soggy boot at the biologist's feet. Gabe closed the door in Skinner's face. Jealous, Skinner thought. No wonder he can't get any females, smelling like fabric softener and soap. The Food Guy wouldn't be so cranky if he'd get out and sniff some butts. (Skinner always thought of Gabe as â€Å"the Food Guy.†) Then, after a quick sniff to confirm that he was, indeed, the Don Juan of all dogs, Skinner resumed his barking fit. Doesn't he get it, Skinner thought, there's something dangerous coming. Danger, Food Guy, danger! Inside, Gabe Fenton glanced at the computer screen in his living room as he returned to bed. A thousand tiny green dots were working their way, en masse, across the map of the Pine Cove area. He stopped and rubbed his eyes. It wasn't possible. Gabe went to the computer and typed in a command. The map of the area reappeared in wider scale. Still, the dots were all moving in a line. He zoomed the map to only a few square miles, the dots were still on the move. Each green dot on the map represented a rat that Gabe had live-trapped, injected with a microchip, and released into the wild. Their location was tracked and plotted by satellite. Every rat in a ten-square-mile area was moving east, away from the coast. Rats did not behave that way. Gabe ran the data backward, looking at the rodents' movements over the last few hours. The exodus had started abruptly, only two hours ago, and already most of the rats had moved over a mile inland. They were running full-tilt and going far beyond their normal range. Rats are sprinters, not long-distance runners. Something was up. Gabe hit a key and a tiny green number appeared next to each of the dots. Each chip was unique, and each rat could be identified like airplanes on the screen of an air traffic controller. Rat 363 hadn't moved outside of a two-meter range for five days. Gabe had assumed that she had either given birth or was ill. Now 363 was half a mile from her normal territory. Anomalies are both the bane and bread of researchers. Gabe was excited by the data, but at the same time it made him anxious. An anomaly like this could lead to a discovery, or make him look like a total fool. He cross-checked the data three different ways, then tapped into the weather station on the roof. Nothing was happening in the way of weather, all changes in barometric pressure, humidity, wind, and temperature were well within normal ranges. He looked out the window: a low fog was settling on the shore, totally normal. He could just make out the lighthouse a hundred yards away. It had been shut down for twenty years, used only as a weather station and as a base for biological research. He grabbed a blanket off of his bed and wrapped it around his shoulders against the chill, then returned to his desk. The green dots were still moving. He dialed the number for JPL in Pasadena. Skinner was still barking outside. â€Å"Skinner, shut the fuck up!† Gabe shouted just as the automated answering service put him through to the seismology lab. A woman answered. She sounded young, probably an intern. â€Å"Excuse me?† she said. â€Å"Sorry, I was yelling at my dog. Yes, hello, this is Dr. Gabe Fenton at the research station in Pine Cove, just wondering if you have any seismic activity in my area.† â€Å"Pine Cove? Can I get a longitude and latitude?† Gabe gave it to her. â€Å"I think I'm looking for something offshore.† â€Å"Nothing. Minor tremor centered at Parkfield yesterday at 9 A.M. Point zero-five-three. You wouldn't even be able to feel it. Have you picked something up on your instruments?† â€Å"I don't have seismographic instruments. That's why I called you. This is a biological research and weather station.† â€Å"I'm sorry, Doctor, I didn't know. I'm new here. Did you feel something?† â€Å"No. My rats are moving.† As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn't. â€Å"Pardon me?† â€Å"Never mind, I was just checking. I'm having some anomalous behavior in some specimens. If you pick up anything in the next few days, could you call me?† He gave her his number. â€Å"You think your rats are predicting an earthquake, Doctor?† â€Å"I didn't say that.† â€Å"You should know that there's no concrete data on animals predicting seismic activity.† â€Å"I know that, but I'm trying to eliminate all the possibilities.† â€Å"Did it occur to you that your dog might be scaring them?† â€Å"I'll factor that in,† Gabe said. â€Å"Thank you for your time.† He hung up, feeling stupid. Nothing seismic or meteorological, and a call to the highway patrol confirmed that there were no chemical spills or fires. He had to confirm the data. Perhaps something was wrong with the satellite signal. The only way to find out was to take out his portable antenna and track the rats in the field. He dressed quickly and headed out to his truck. â€Å"Skinner, you want to go for a ride?† Skinner wagged his tail and made a beeline for the truck. About time, he thought. You need to get away from the shore, Food Guy, right now. Inside the house, ten green dots were moving away from the others toward the shore. The Sea Beast The Sea Beast crawled up the beach, roaring as his legs took the full weight of his body and the undertow sucked at his haunches. The urgency of killing his enemy had diminished now and hunger was upon him in re-sponse to the effort of moving out of the ocean. An organ at the base of his brain that had disappeared from other species when man's only living an-cestors were tree shrews produced an electric signal to call food. There were many prey here, that same organ sensed. The Sea Beast came to the fifty-foot cliff that bordered the beach, reared back on his tail, and pulled himself up with his forelegs. He was a hundred feet long, nose to tail, and stood twenty-five feet tall with his broad neck extended to its full height. His rear feet were wide and webbed, his front talonlike, with a thumb that opposed three curved claws for grasping and killing prey. On the dry grass above the beach, some of the prey he had called already waited. Raccoons, ground squirrels, a few skunks, a fox, and two cats ca-vorted on the grass – some copulated, others dug at fleas with blissful abandon, others just rolled on their backs as if overcome by a fit of joy. The Sea Beast swept them into his great maw with a flick of his tongue, crunching a few bones on the way down, but swallowing most whole. He belched and savored the skunky bouquet, his jaws smacking together like two wet mattresses, and a flash of neon color ran across his flanks with the pleasure. He moved over the bluff, across the Coast Highway, and into the sleeping town. The streets were deserted, lights off in all the businesses on Cypress Street. A low fog splashed against the pseudo-Tudor half-timbered buildings and formed green coronas around the streetlights. Above it all, the red Texaco sign shone like a beacon. The Sea Beast changed the color of his skin to the same smoky gray as the fog and moved down the center of the street looking like a serpentine cloud. He followed a low rumbling sound coming from under the red beacon, broke out of the fog, and there he saw her. She purred, taunting and teasing him from the front of the deserted Texaco station. That come-hither rumble. That low, sexy growl. Those silver flanks reflecting fog and the red Texaco sign called to him, begged him to mount her. The Sea Beast flashed a rainbow of color down his sides to display his magnificent maleness. He fanned the gill trees on his neck, sending bands of color and light into their branches. The Sea Beast sent her a signal, which roughly translated into: â€Å"Hey, baby, haven't seen you around before.† She sat there, purring, playing coy, but he knew she wanted him. She had short black legs, a stumpy tail, and smelled as if she may have recently eaten a trawler, but those magnificent silver flanks were too much to resist. The Sea Beast turned himself silver as well, to make her feel a little more comfortable, then reared up on his hind legs and displayed his aroused member. No response, just that shy purring. He took it as an invitation and moved across the parking lot to mount the fuel truck. Estelle Estelle placed a mug of tea in front of Catfish, then sat down across the table from him with her own. Catfish sipped the tea and grimaced, then pulled the pint from his back pocket and unscrewed the cap. Estelle caught his hand before he could pour. â€Å"You have some explaining to do first, Mr. Bluesman.† Estelle was more than a little rattled. When they were only half a mile away from the beach, she had been overtaken by a sudden urge to return and had fought Catfish for control of the car. It was crazy behavior. It frightened her as much as the thing at the beach had, and when they got to her house she immediately took a Zoloft, even though she'd already had her dose for the day. â€Å"Leave me be, woman. I said I'd tell you. I needs me some nerve medicine.† Estelle released his hand. â€Å"What was that at the beach?† Catfish splashed some whiskey into Estelle's tea first, then into his own. He grinned, â€Å"You see my name wasn't always Catfish. I was born with the name of Meriwether Jefferson. Catfish come on me sometime later.† â€Å"Christ, Catfish, I'm sixty years old. Am I going to live long enough to hear the end of this story? What in the hell was out in the water tonight?† She was definitely not herself, swearing like this. â€Å"You wanna know or not?† Estelle sipped her tea. â€Å"Sorry, go ahead.†

Nature vs. Nurture a Biblical Perspective - 1531 Words

RUNNING TITLE: Nature vs. Nurture Nature vs. Nurture: A Biblical Perspective Ouida Lynne Heath Psychology 101, Module 5 Professor Roberts December 17, 2009 Nature vs. Nurture: A Biblical Perspective The Nature versus Nurture debate has been ongoing for centuries. People have tried to gain power through knowledge in determining what causes the human â€Å"mind to tick.† For centuries leaders and scientists have performed unethical and immoral studies to determine why two people with similar genetic composition can come from similar backgrounds and turn out so differently. I have witnessed a person raised in a poor home by parents with drug addictions†¦show more content†¦Scripture also says that the Lord teaches the way we should go, and He will counsel us and watch over us. (Psalm 32:8-10). Even though God teaches, sometimes we choose not to learn. We, as individuals, have the power of choice. We have â€Å"free will†. This is illustrated in Genesis when Eve chose to eat the fruit. It is possible for a child to be raised correctly and then turn from their teachings and pursue a life totally different. God trained the nation of Israel, but the peop le still abandoned His teachings. â€Å"Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth: for Jehovah has spoken: I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me.† (Isaiah 1:2) We read and learn about studies and experiments. We argue and debate one another which has more influence: genetics or environment? The Bible even says we are perfectly made, however we are still influenced by our surroundings and other people. The bottom line is that we have a choice. We can choose to follow God and let His will be done in our lives, or we can choose to let the environment determine our outcome. Paul said it best: â€Å"Be not deceived: Evil companionships corrupt good morals.† (1Corinth. 14:13) My mother was an admitted alcoholic when I was a child and loved to party. She abandoned me and my Grandmother took me into her home to raise. My Grandfather was an alcoholic and was verbally abusive to our entire family. MyShow MoreRelatedNature vs. Nurture: A Biblical Perspective1182 Words   |  5 PagesThe Nature versus Nurture debate has been ongoing for centuries. People have tried to gain power through knowledge in determining what causes the human â€Å"mind to tick.† For centuries leaders and scientists have performed unethical and immoral studies to determine why two people with similar genetic composition can come from similar backgrounds and turn out so differently. I have witnessed a person raised in a poor home by parents with drug addictions become a thriving contributable member of societyRead MoreSix Major Tenants of Personality Theory Essay2500 Words   |  10 PagesUniversity Abstract This paper will  review  the six major tenants of personality theory. The first discussed are the foundations of psychology, which are: nature versus nurture, the unconscious, and view of self. Each of these foundations are important to  the development of  a psychologically healthy person. Nature versus nurture is a long time debated concept within psychology that argues whether a  person’s behaviors  are derived  from genetics and what  are derived  from the things we learn.Read MorePersonality Theory And The Psychological Processes Of Functioning And Psychopathology2377 Words   |  10 PagesThere are different areas of personality theory, such as the roots of personality in the individual, and the role of personality in achieving happiness, productivity, etc. The core of all personality research is centered on the question of nature versus nurture. The fundamental question is whether personality is a â€Å"naturally† derived thing hardwired in at birth or as socialized through the â€Å"nurturing† of the parent in youth. Secondary to this question, though working quite in conjunction, is thatRead MoreNature Vs Nurture : Personality Theories1855 Words   |  8 Pagesamong us has that privilege? The best approach is to follow Biblical personality characteristics and its cases of identity qualities, however in research men and ladies alike have made efforts at attempting to direct research to study human practices. While some of these are exact and can aid advancement of behavioral medical problems, some of them are inadequate with regards to truth. For instance, the issue of nature versus nurture will be talked about. The specialist would need to be in a fair-mindedRead MoreNature Vs Nurture : Nature Versus Nurture2710 Words   |  11 PagesAbstract If someone inquires about nature versus nurture, this paper will give not one specific answer but a combination of both answers. Human personality is a combination of environment and a biological characteristic that controls precisely where the individual will end up in the developmental spectrum. The experiences that individuals will develop from throughout stages of development, their childhood and into their adulthood, play a great part in their conscious and unconscious motives. TheRead MoreRole of Marriage in Society2476 Words   |  10 PagesRole of Marriage in Society 1 Introduction: This paper will examine society’s view on marriage. This issue is worthy of investigation because everyone has different perspectives and opinions on marriage. They should be informed about both sides of opinions. Everyone should be respected no matter who they are or who they love. If a man loves a man then people should celebrate it rather than destroy it. The goal of this paper will be to share both views of marriage and will include the history ofRead MoreLeadership Styles And Leadership Philosophies3775 Words   |  16 Pagesspirituality by its nature may or may not encompass the affirmation of a higher power, a God, or specific religious doctrine it does support a connection with being part of something larger than one’s self and prayer allows an opportunity for leaders to make spiritual connections. Thus both Porter-O-Grady and Malloch’s fourth spiritual rule and O’Brien’s behavioral theme Embracing a Higher Power, encourage l eaders to utilize spirituality in their leadership role. Differences Serving the Self vs. Serving OthersRead MoreCoun 5014908 Words   |  20 Pagesis talk. There are many reasons why one may become a counselor. Some of the main reason being; excitement and satisfaction for helping people change, opportunity for evaluating one’s own life, desire to nurture others, or even joy of seeing others become in control of their lives vs. â€Å"victims†. This job is not for everyone; for instance a person with anger, unresolved issues and habitual relationship conflicts may not fit the role of a â€Å"good counselor†. A counselor would be one with innerRead MoreA Christian Approach to Homosexuality7265 Words   |  30 Pages 1 TABLE OF CONTENTS INTRODUCTION I. BIBLE AND HOMOSEXUALITY 1. Biblical View of Sexuality 2. Old Testament on Homosexuality 2a. Stories of Sodom and Gibeah 2b. Levitical Texts 3. New Testament on Homosexuality 3a. Paul’s Statements in Romans 3b. Other Pauline Texts II. BIOLOGYRead MoreA Concept Of A Calling5698 Words   |  23 Pages(Carter, 2014). An early usage was the Biblical calling of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the Old Testament. The New Testament used the term for the calling of the disciples by Christ (Scott, 2007). During the Protestant Reformation the idea that ?earthly? occupations could have spiritual significance was developed (Dik Duffy, 2009). Since the Reformation, a secular perspective of the concept of ?a calling? has developed, although religious perspectives continue to have meaning particularly in

The Burden in The Things They Carried by OBrien Essay

The Burden in The Things They Carried by OBrien In The Things They Carried, OBrien made reference to the Vietnam war that was closely associated with the physical, psychological, and emotional weight the soldiers beared. The overall method of presentation of this story incorporated many different outlooks on the things the soldiers carried, dealt with, and were forced to adapt to. In addition to this, OBrien showed us the many reasons why and how the soldiers posessed these things individually and collectively and how they were associated directly and indirectly. The strong historical content in The Things They Carried helped emphasize the focus of the story and establish a clearer understanding of details in the†¦show more content†¦Vietnam made a big portion of history also through its use of slang and war specified language. This language came about through many means including its adaption to the Vietnamese language, coded words, phrases, profanity and initials that represent war objects, and other means, and to r epresent or even hide their emotional stand points. On page 19, OBrien describes the young soldiers as actors. They were afraid of dying but they were even more afraid to show it. On page 12, Lieutenant describes his feelings for Martha as dense, crushing love. He then explains how he wants to sleep inside her lungs, breathe her blood, amd be smothered. This sounds like extremely harsh description for love. However, the soldiers environment became the most they could relate to. For example, to describe the death of a soldier, theyd used phrases such as Boom. Down. Like Cement, or flat fuck fell. OBrien explains how the soldiers would make conscious efforts to joke about things and make comical references to have themselves laugh. Page 19 describes that they used a hard vocabulary to contain the terrible softness. At the end of page 18 and beginning of page 19, we find that the men would now and then panic and have the desire to cry out for the misery to stop. Theyd make u nguaranteed promises to God and their parents in hope that that would be their source of survival. On page 11 OBrien tells that the Imagination was aShow MoreRelatedRemembrance is a Substantial Burden in the Book, The Things They Carried by Tim OBrien614 Words   |  2 Pages Remembrance; the mental impression on the brain from a certain event. Each soldier in the book, The Things They Carried, experiences some sort of remembrance whether it be saddening or enlightening. Remembrance is consistently perceived as the ability our brains have to go back and revisit moments in time which either disturb us, or give to us a feeling of pure happiness. Its mere sound provokes thought along with curiosity. Generally, when we are alone, surrounded by a nonchalant atmosphere, ourRead MoreThe Things They Carried Questions1139 Words   |  5 Pagesâ€Å"The Things They Carried† Questions a) The main topic of this novel is burdens. O’Brien is writing about what burdens the soldiers and he had to carry throughout war, physically and emotionally. One way I know is because of the title- â€Å"The Things They Carried.† This title almost summarizes the whole book. O’Brien frequently showed and explained the burdens that were inner conflicts of his and outer conflicts too. In the chapter â€Å"The things They Carried,† O’Brien showed an emotional burdenRead MoreHeroism In Tim OBriens The Things They Carried1684 Words   |  7 Pagesis far from the reality that is war. A more realistic rendition of war is seen in Tim O’Brien’s short story, The Things They Carried. Throughout the story, O’Brien uses metafictional characters to portray the physical and emotional burdens carried by American soldiers who were forced to conform to societal expectations upon being drafted for the Vietnam War. The literary elements Oâ⠂¬â„¢Brien uses throughout the story to convey this theme are symbolism, imagery, tone, and inner conflict of the protagonistRead MoreTim OBriens Captivating and Life-Changing Story The Things They Carried632 Words   |  3 Pages â€Å"The Things They Carried† is a short verisimilitude story. It was written by Tim O’Brien, who is a Vietnam veteran. He never dreamed it would have been such a captivating and life changing story that it has become. Tim O’Brien introduces us to life during the Vietnam War. He captures the feelings of each soldier as they were in the battle field. We are involved in their dreams, fears, and the ghosts that haunted them. These were some of the things they carried. â€Å"First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross carriedRead MoreAn Inside Look At A Soldiers Life in the Vietnam War Essay1346 Words   |  6 Pagesdeaths. From the beginning of the story, O’Brien the author of â€Å"The Things They Carried† uses specific details and illustrations to show readers what the experience was like for the men during the Vietnam war. Among the many things that the men carry were guilt, fear, grief, and stress. Throughout the story O’Brien emphasizes the dreadful events that these men carry with them by incorporating the use of multiple themes such as: the emotional and physical burdens, fear, psychological well being and theRead MoreSummary Of The Things They Carried 915 Words   |  4 Pagesthe story, The Things They Carried, Lieutenant Jimmy Cross is a man who is in two forms of war, one that is in Vietnam, and one that is mental. Lieutenant Cross carried many things while in war. Lieutenant Cross did not just carry equipment, he also  "carried the common secret of cowardice barley restrained, the instinct to run or freeze or hide, and in many respects this was the heaviest burden of all, for it could never be put down, it required perfect balance and posture† (O’Brien, 1198). ThroughoutRead MoreOverview: The Things They Carried by Tim OBrien1510 Words   |  7 Pages The Things They Carried is a novel written by Vietnam Veteran Tim O’Brien. The Vietnam War took place between 1955 and 1975. Most of the soldiers fighting were young teenage men around the age of eighteen and nineteen years old. Like O’Brien many of these young men were pulled away from their families and life to fight a war they didn’t approve of or even know about. This had a strong affect on most of these men and O’Brien uses different ways to show how the Vietnam War affected them both physicallyRead MoreThe Things They Carried By Tim O Brien917 Words   |  4 PagesThe Things They Carried is an autobi ographical novel written by Tim O’Brien that details his time as a soldier in the Vietnam War. Considered to be â€Å"the best work of fiction ever written about Vietnam, some even think it is the best about war,† (Greenya 1). The stories that are contained within the novel talk about themes such as loss, burdens, and the horrifying truths of the Vietnam War, the first war to take place during a more ‘modern’ era, as the tragedies of the war could be broadcasted throughRead More Tim OBriens The Things They Carried Essay735 Words   |  3 PagesTim OBriens The Things They Carried Culture teaches that men must dispense of ridiculous emotions and remain firm, following expected duties. O’Brien develops this theme of the transition from youth to manhood in his short story, â€Å"The Things They Carried.† Through the protagonist Jimmy Cross, metaphors of weight, and futile ideas of freedom, O’Brien reveals how society expects young men in transition to adulthood to let go of impractical idealism and dwell instead on the cruel reality of theRead MoreEssay On The Things They Carried1058 Words   |  5 Pages â€Å"The Things They Carried† provides a personal view into the minds of soldiers, and tells us the emotional and psychological costs of war. First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross is stationed in Vietnam in the middle of the war. He seems to be a man in love, or more like a man in love with the idea of a lady named Martha. He ends up changing from a love struck, blind man into a firm, leading soldier. In this story, the characters do t he things they do because of desires and motivations. In â€Å"The Things

Monsters And The Core Program - 1826 Words

Monsters and Villains in the Core Program Monsters and villains have been a very crucial part in Core 3 and Core 4. We have read some of the most well none villains in Core including Humbaba from Gilgamesh, Polyphemus from The Odyssey, Grendel from Beowulf, and Iago from Othello. Teratology is the study of monsters and throughout Core we have learned some of the characteristics that are monsters have in common. Mostly all the monsters that we have studied reveals society’s fears or something wrong with society. We furthered this discussion by figuring out why these villains did such evil acts. In this paper, I will discuss the monsters we have studied in Core 3 and 4 and then compare and contrast their stories and monstrous†¦show more content†¦This is almost strange when one thinks of a monster asking for forgiveness. Revisiting the story I start to notice that Humbaba is not necessarily and evil person. Humbaba does not stay in the forest and protects it like an ogre protects his swamp, he was placed there. Humbaba was placed at the Cedar Forest by Enlil, the king of the gods, to protect the forest (Gilgamesh, 133). Humbaba was just doing his job, guarding the trees so that humans would not cut them down and destroy them. Another villain that we read in Core 3 comes from the story of The Odyssey. Polyphemus is the gigantic one eye monster that Odysseus meets on his way back home. Odysseus stops at his island and Polyphemus then catches them and takes Odysseus and his crew as prisoners and for food. Although Polyphemus is a powerful being, son of Poseidon, he is not the brightest. Polyphemus is freely convinced that Odysseus’s name is â€Å"Nobody†. When he realizes that his name is â€Å"Nobody†, Odysseus starts to stab his eye in the hope of getting away. This causes some disorientation especially when Polyphemus screams to his fellow giants that â€Å"Nobody† is hurting him (Odyssey ). Polyphemus w as not the only monster that was in The Odyssey, there was also Polyphemus and Humbaba were the two monsters that we focused on in Core 3, now I will discuss the villains we encountered in Core 4. In Beowulf there was many monsters that include Grendel, Grendel’s mother, and the Dragon.

The Effects Of Violent Music Content On Teens free essay sample

Throughout history the human populous has been attracted to music. Whether It be part of a ritual, an emotional release, religious reasons, or just for listening pleasure music has been at the center of our society. We have used music to express ourselves, tell stories, and let others into our thoughts. However, we often wonder whether what we are saying has an effect on the listening audience. Recently, in the asss references have often been made to link violent and deviant behavior to music and certain music genres.Some such genres Include but are not limited to; heavy metal, death metal, rap, angst rap, industrial, hardcore, and alternative music. During the last decade we have seen music lyrics become more and more violent and sexually explicit. Experts argue that this can cause problems in children and adolescents. Studies show that the average teenager listens to approximately 40 hours of music in a given week. Teenagers often do not understand what is being said, in fact in one study only 30 percent of those questioned knew the lyrics to their favorite songs and they all had varied comprehension as to what the message was. It could be argued that if the lyrics were not included in the artists booklet then the audience would never know what was being said. Some lyrics are indeed harsh such as this Nine Inch Nails lyric: I am a big man yes I am; and I have a big gun; got me a big ole *censored* and I like to have fun; held against your forehead Ill make you suck; you know, just for the *censored* of it.Obviously we cannot interpret this as a positive meaning. A sampling of lyrics from Marilyn Manson include Who says date rape sin t fun, The housewife I will beat.. And slit my teenage wrist, among others. Manson concerts are often grounds to bash religion and rip bibles while fan chant we hate love, we love hate. Other songs that have overtones of violence include slap-a-ho by Dove Shack and another song sung by death metal band Cannibal Corpse in which they make reference to masturbating with a dead womans head.Avid music lovers attest that they words sung in these songs are just words and or no different that poetry printed in literature books. No studies to date have concluded that listening to a song that speaks of death will make a manager want to go out and kill. Do these kinds of lyrics breed todays children to be killers and to be sexually promiscuous? Yes, and no, depending on who you speak to. Listening to music does not drive people to kill, and no proof of such has been offered.In fact, one teacher speaks of a student who wore a Metallic shirt everyday to school and wrote lyrics with foul language, but was often seen sitting in the front row at Sunday mass with his mother in a nice suit. The same people who go out to see Black Sabbath and Motley Cruel are the name people who hand le world finance and international affairs, it is just their choice in music. Studies that use music videos on the other hand show an increased tolerance in deviant behavior among both males and females. Music videos add reinforcement to what is being heard with the use of visuals.Now an extra sense is being used. Videos often exhibit sexual innuendo, acts of aggression, and gender stereotypes. Studies showed that men have a tolerable attitude as to what is violent and what is too far in sexual advances. Women have less of a tolerance. Studies have also found that heavy metal music and giants rap influence mess attitudes towards women and that increased exposure to videos containing interpersonal violence against women tended to increase mens acceptance of rape myths such as she was dressing like she wanted it or she brought it on herself. In contrast, women is beliefs decreased and they felt that men were coming on too strong and being to aggressive. Another study conducted on college campuses in the northwestern United States involved men and women watching various music videos and then answering a set of questions afterwards. One video was The Way You Make Me Feel by Michael Jackson which depicts a man stalking a woman who then becomes infatuated in his game of pursuit. The other was The Stand by ERM which only showed the band on-stage playing instruments.In questions answered after the videos men said it was necessary to pursue the woman to such an extent while women thought it was annoying and/or disturbing. Men scored higher on a attitudes for sexual overtones, while surprisingly women scored slightly higher on the acceptance of interpersonal violence. The studies did conclude that women who were often subjected to violent music videos were more accepting of violence than those who have not had constant viewing o r listening to such lyrics and images. It also showed that men had a greater acceptance of sexual stereotyping and rape myths after being subjected to the videos. Many methods of behavior modification have been suggested in order to keep this music from causing harm or hurting anyone individuals. Many arguments can be made as to whether the music should be censored or if it is unconstitutional to do. The American Academy Of Pediatrics recommends different types of behavior modification to combat the harmful effects of this music.One such idea is as simple as having parents be aware as to what their children are listening to, and to discuss anything they deem objectionable. This would be a positive way to relate emotions to the songs. Another idea proposed is labeling of content in compact discs. It would be labeled outside as to what the lyrics contained (I. E. Language, sex, drugs). It has also been suggested that groups as well as individuals approach record impasses, music studies, and artists and ask them to consider the ramifications of their music on their audience and market it accordingly and in a favorable manner.Ideas have been proposed to set up research studies to further investigate the effects of explicit music on the behavior of teenagers. One of the most effective ideas proposed is as simple as people accept that this music is an art form and a means of self-expression and emotional release and treat it as such. Just as with rock and roll and Elvis Presley people will always find something wrong with the music that others listen to.

President Of USA Essays - Heads Of State, Titles,

President Of USA The position of being the president of the United States is the most powerful office in the world. The president is the leader of a nation of wealth and great military strength. Unlike most governments around the world, our president is the chief of state and a head of government. Also each and every president has played their own important role in shaping our history. A person who would like to run for president must fit the qualifications. First of all he must be a "natural born" citizen of the United States. The person must be at least 35 years of age and must have lived in the United States for fourteen years or more. After this the person is then nominated by a national political party convention. Then the person is elected by the vote of the electoral college which is held in December following the election on the first Tuesday in November every four years. The inauguration is held January 20 after election. The president is elected for a four year term but he may not be elected for more than two terms. The president yearly receives a salary of two hundred thousand dollars. After leaving office he is eligible for a pension of ninety nine thousand five hundred dollars. The daily life of the president is filled with many tasks. Being the chief of state the president performs many public and ceremonial duties. He also must make sure federal laws are enforced. The president also acts as the commander in chief of the nations armed forces and he is in charge of the national defense. The president is in charge of determining United States relations with other countries. The executive branch of the federal government is run by the president. The branch consists of thirteen executive departments, and over one hundred independent agencies. Almost three million civilian employees and two million members of the armed forces are included in the executive branch. Over the years the presidents responsibilities have increased. Court decisions, customs, laws and other developments have expanded the presidents responsibilities and powers. Different powers are used by the president to carry out his administrative duties. There are hundreds of laws that give the president emergency powers. This means that the president has special authority to prevent or end a national emergency. The president can also give executive orders. Executive orders have the force of a law that are issued through directions, proclamations or statements by the president. They require no action by congress. Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation which was on of the most famous executive orders ever. It declared freedom for all slaves in the areas under the confederate control.