Hackers Essay -- Hacking Computers Technology Security Essays

Hackers It is the weekend you have nothing to do so you decide to play around on your computer . You turn it and than start up , calling people with your modem , conneciting to another world with people. This is all fine but what happens when you start getting into other people’s computer files , then it becomes a crime and who are the criminals. To begin i will start with hacking and hackers. Hacking is the act of breaking into computers and network of other poeple’s with out any permission . Hacking is like drugs or any other substance , its an addiction for the mind and once started it is diffucult to stop . Hacker is a person who enjoy learning details of a programming language or system , who tries to break into computer systems .There is two types of hackers. On is the benign hackers , who likes get into his or her own computer and understand how it works . The malicious hackers is the person who likes getting into other people’s system . Black hat is used to discribe a hacker who break into a computer system or network with malicious intent . Unlike white hat , the black hat takes advantage of the break in perhaps destroying files or stealing data for some future purpose. White hat hackers describes a hacker who identifies a security weakness in a computer system or network but instead of taking malicious advantage of it . They will allow the system‘s owners to fix it before can be taken advantage by others . But U.S law does not see differences between black hat hacker and white hat hacker. Many of the poeple in our society today often think that computer hackers are very smart individuals who have special talents and abilities and enabiling them to crack passwords , send viruses , cancel your cable tv , raid your social security and crash computer systems. Most people in our society do not spend the time to break into computer systems but all studies indicate that hackers are genarlly young and not haave full time jobs or own property kaygusuz2 They have so much time and energy to break into computers. Hackers learn hacking from reading different kind of computer books , they find many available tools on the internet , they spend so much time on the computer to learn the techniques of hacking . Some of the hackers hack for to gain highest pre... ...entality work and their lifestyle and also goverment regulations against these smart indivuduals. à nformation security professions must be more visible in a way that get children before the hackers community gets them . They get together to teach parents and schools and also they must teach children about hacking and hackers before somebody else does. And also goverment takes to find a way to stop hackers. If the goverment does not hurry up they are going to get buried by hackers and when that happens the world will not be a fun places to live in and aslo the cyberspace WORKS CITED Cert Coordination Center Computer Crime in today’s Society Retrieved: November 10, 2000 from the World Wide Web: http:// www.cert.org// Choas Computer Club ( januvary 05 , 1995 ) Hacker Bible The New Hackers Dictionary ( online education ) Retrieved November 10 , 2000 from the Worl Wide Web A non-technical artical from business web zine about Distrbuted Denial Service Attacks: http://www.cert.org/advisories /Ca-99-17-denial-of-service-tools.html Tool from the FBI’s National Infrastructure Protection Center : http://www.nipc.gov/

The Character of Falstaff in Shakespeares Henry IV, Part I Essay

The Character of Falstaff in Henry IV, Part I      Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Shakespeare's genius in character and plot development is exemplified in two of his most complex history plays, Richard II and Henry IV, Part I. With these sequential plays, Shakespeare vividly develops characters and sets up complicated plots by juxtapositioning people with others. Specifically, he first creates a binary opposition between Richard and Bolingbrook in Richard II, and then, recalls the plot and carries out an almost mirror image character contrast with Hal and Hotspur in Henry IV, Part I. However, in typical Shakespeare fashion, the seemingly mirror-image binaries of Richard/Bolingbrook and Hal/Hotspur break down with Shakespeare's character complexity.    A major reason why these character parallels do not perfectly hold up is because of the marvelous character of Falstaff. Absent from Richard II, Falstaff is introduced in Henry IV to create intricacy and ambiguity regarding likenesses among these characters. Falstaff significantly complicates the Hotspur-is-to-Bolingbrook-as-Hal-is-to-Richard II assumption because Falstaff has so much in common with the King. Therefore, as opposed to Hotspur's becoming the Bolingbrook persona, it is the drunken and disorderly Falstaff who becomes the character most parallel to the King. However, the King associates himself with Hotspur, who, as his name suggests, is a relentless warrior. The King puts forth a sense that Hotspur will act as Bolingbrook did in Richard II, by challenging the Prince's right to the throne; he feels that Bolingbrook's rivalry with Richard is reflected in Hotspur's position as Hal's challenger.    In the first scene of Henry IV, Part I, King Henry immediately ... ...tspur seems unfitting. Adding complexity to characterization through his comical action, Falstaff is a crucial character in Henry IV, Part I, and it is through the character of Falstaff that we see the parallel between Hotspur and Bolingbrook breaks down.    Works Cited and Consulted Coleridge, Samuel Taylor. H.C. Robinson's Memoranda Henry IV, Signet Classic, pp. 236-237. Goldman, Michael. Shakespeare and the Energies of Drama Henry IV, Signet Classic, pp. 260-261. Johnson, Samuel. The Plays of William Shakespeare Henry IV, Signet Classic, pp.234- 235. Kahn, Coppelia. Man's Estate: Masculine Identity in Shakespeare Henry IV, Signet Classic, pp.262-266. Shakespeare, William. Henry IV, Part I, ed. M.A. Shaaber, Penguin Books (NY: 1985). Wilson, John Dover. The Fortunes of Falstaff Henry IV, Signet Classic, pp.238-243.   

The US, the ICC and the future: A suggestion on how to convince the US

The US, the ICC and the future: A suggestion on how to convince the US that signing and ratifying the ICC would be to its benefit Introduction Throughout the 20th century, the world has experienced some of the greatest wars and catastrophes for human life. Simultaneously the world has achieved some of the greatest advances in codifying human rights and enhancing the understanding that we are all citizens of this world and invariably connected. Whatever human crisis occurs in one part of the world will in the short or long term influence the other parts of the world and nobody is immune to this fact. Especially the United States seems to have understood in the 20th century that interaction between states and individuals is vital, and that the rule of law has to be established on a national and international level. Arguable after the civil rights struggle and eventually the end of the Cold War the US was able to take action in order to criticize human rights violations across the globe. The civil rights movement indicated the US slowly growing willingness to accept the equality of all its citizens, while the fall of the Berlin Wall gave the US (and arguably other countries too), the freedom to care and openly criticize human rights violations wherever they happened to occur. However, despite the US strong involvement in codifying human rights and international criminal law through treaties, conventions and institutions, the US has already recently been accused of maintain an isolationist and even hegemonic stance across the globe. The US, through its omnipresent stance in the international media, international political arena, military capacity etc. is able to be unilateralist and not care about hum... ... of the United Nations. The International Criminal Court: The Making of the Rome Statute: Issues, Negotiations, Results [10] 81. Herman von Hebel and Darryl Robinson. The International Criminal Court: The Making of the Rome Statute: Issues, Negotiations, Results [11] Statement by US President Bill Clinton, authorizing the US signing of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, 31 December 2000, Camp David, Maryland, United States [12] UNDER SECRETARY OF STATE FOR ARMS CONTROL AND INTERNATIONAL SECURITY WASHINGTON, John R. Bolton. http://www.newsmax.com/archives/articles/2002/5/6/114156.shtml [13] P. 38. John Bolton. Toward an International Criminal Court? A Council Policy Initiative. [14] 39. John R. Bolton. Toward an International Criminal court? A Council Policy Initiative [15] 43. Ibid. The US, the ICC and the future: A suggestion on how to convince the US The US, the ICC and the future: A suggestion on how to convince the US that signing and ratifying the ICC would be to its benefit Introduction Throughout the 20th century, the world has experienced some of the greatest wars and catastrophes for human life. Simultaneously the world has achieved some of the greatest advances in codifying human rights and enhancing the understanding that we are all citizens of this world and invariably connected. Whatever human crisis occurs in one part of the world will in the short or long term influence the other parts of the world and nobody is immune to this fact. Especially the United States seems to have understood in the 20th century that interaction between states and individuals is vital, and that the rule of law has to be established on a national and international level. Arguable after the civil rights struggle and eventually the end of the Cold War the US was able to take action in order to criticize human rights violations across the globe. The civil rights movement indicated the US slowly growing willingness to accept the equality of all its citizens, while the fall of the Berlin Wall gave the US (and arguably other countries too), the freedom to care and openly criticize human rights violations wherever they happened to occur. However, despite the US strong involvement in codifying human rights and international criminal law through treaties, conventions and institutions, the US has already recently been accused of maintain an isolationist and even hegemonic stance across the globe. The US, through its omnipresent stance in the international media, international political arena, military capacity etc. is able to be unilateralist and not care about hum... ... of the United Nations. The International Criminal Court: The Making of the Rome Statute: Issues, Negotiations, Results [10] 81. Herman von Hebel and Darryl Robinson. The International Criminal Court: The Making of the Rome Statute: Issues, Negotiations, Results [11] Statement by US President Bill Clinton, authorizing the US signing of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, 31 December 2000, Camp David, Maryland, United States [12] UNDER SECRETARY OF STATE FOR ARMS CONTROL AND INTERNATIONAL SECURITY WASHINGTON, John R. Bolton. http://www.newsmax.com/archives/articles/2002/5/6/114156.shtml [13] P. 38. John Bolton. Toward an International Criminal Court? A Council Policy Initiative. [14] 39. John R. Bolton. Toward an International Criminal court? A Council Policy Initiative [15] 43. Ibid.

Angels Demons Chapter 32-35

32 Langdon held his breath as the X-33 spiraled into Rome's Leonardo da Vinci International Airport. Vittoria sat across from him, eyes closed as if trying to will the situation into control. The craft touched down and taxied to a private hangar. â€Å"Sorry for the slow flight,† the pilot apologized, emerging from the cockpit. â€Å"Had to trim her back. Noise regulations over populated areas.† Langdon checked his watch. They had been airborne thirty-seven minutes. The pilot popped the outer door. â€Å"Anybody want to tell me what's going on?† Neither Vittoria nor Langdon responded. â€Å"Fine,† he said, stretching. â€Å"I'll be in the cockpit with the air-conditioning and my music. Just me and Garth.† The late-afternoon sun blazed outside the hangar. Langdon carried his tweed jacket over his shoulder. Vittoria turned her face skyward and inhaled deeply, as if the sun's rays somehow transferred to her some mystical replenishing energy. Mediterraneans, Langdon mused, already sweating. â€Å"Little old for cartoons, aren't you?† Vittoria asked, without opening her eyes. â€Å"I'm sorry?† â€Å"Your wristwatch. I saw it on the plane.† Langdon flushed slightly. He was accustomed to having to defend his timepiece. The collector's edition Mickey Mouse watch had been a childhood gift from his parents. Despite the contorted foolishness of Mickey's outstretched arms designating the hour, it was the only watch Langdon had ever worn. Waterproof and glow-in-the-dark, it was perfect for swimming laps or walking unlit college paths at night. When Langdon's students questioned his fashion sense, he told them he wore Mickey as a daily reminder to stay young at heart. â€Å"It's six o'clock,† he said. Vittoria nodded, eyes still closed. â€Å"I think our ride's here.† Langdon heard the distant whine, looked up, and felt a sinking feeling. Approaching from the north was a helicopter, slicing low across the runway. Langdon had been on a helicopter once in the Andean Palpa Valley looking at the Nazca sand drawings and had not enjoyed it one bit. A flying shoebox. After a morning of space plane rides, Langdon had hoped the Vatican would send a car. Apparently not. The chopper slowed overhead, hovered a moment, and dropped toward the runway in front of them. The craft was white and carried a coat of arms emblazoned on the side – two skeleton keys crossing a shield and papal crown. He knew the symbol well. It was the traditional seal of the Vatican – the sacred symbol of the Holy See or â€Å"holy seat† of government, the seat being literally the ancient throne of St. Peter. The Holy Chopper, Langdon groaned, watching the craft land. He'd forgotten the Vatican owned one of these things, used for transporting the Pope to the airport, to meetings, or to his summer palace in Gandolfo. Langdon definitely would have preferred a car. The pilot jumped from the cockpit and strode toward them across the tarmac. Now it was Vittoria who looked uneasy. â€Å"That's our pilot?† Langdon shared her concern. â€Å"To fly, or not to fly. That is the question.† The pilot looked like he was festooned for a Shakespearean melodrama. His puffy tunic was vertically striped in brilliant blue and gold. He wore matching pantaloons and spats. On his feet were black flats that looked like slippers. On top of it all, he wore a black felt beret. â€Å"Traditional Swiss Guard uniforms,† Langdon explained. â€Å"Designed by Michelangelo himself.† As the man drew closer, Langdon winced. â€Å"I admit, not one of Michelangelo's better efforts.† Despite the man's garish attire, Langdon could tell the pilot meant business. He moved toward them with all the rigidity and dignity of a U.S. Marine. Langdon had read many times about the rigorous requirements for becoming one of the elite Swiss Guard. Recruited from one of Switzerland's four Catholic cantons, applicants had to be Swiss males between nineteen and thirty years old, at least 5 feet 6 inches, trained by the Swiss Army, and unmarried. This imperial corps was envied by world governments as the most allegiant and deadly security force in the world. â€Å"You are from CERN?† the guard asked, arriving before them. His voice was steely. â€Å"Yes, sir,† Langdon replied. â€Å"You made remarkable time,† he said, giving the X-33 a mystified stare. He turned to Vittoria. â€Å"Ma'am, do you have any other clothing?† â€Å"I beg your pardon?† He motioned to her legs. â€Å"Short pants are not permitted inside Vatican City.† Langdon glanced down at Vittoria's legs and frowned. He had forgotten. Vatican City had a strict ban on visible legs above the knee – both male and female. The regulation was a way of showing respect for the sanctity of God's city. â€Å"This is all I have,† she said. â€Å"We came in a hurry.† The guard nodded, clearly displeased. He turned next to Langdon. â€Å"Are you carrying any weapons?† Weapons? Langdon thought. I'm not even carrying a change of underwear! He shook his head. The officer crouched at Langdon's feet and began patting him down, starting at his socks. Trusting guy, Langdon thought. The guard's strong hands moved up Langdon's legs, coming uncomfortably close to his groin. Finally they moved up to his chest and shoulders. Apparently content Langdon was clean, the guard turned to Vittoria. He ran his eyes up her legs and torso. Vittoria glared. â€Å"Don't even think about it.† The guard fixed Vittoria with a gaze clearly intended to intimidate. Vittoria did not flinch. â€Å"What's that?† the guard said, pointing to a faint square bulge in the front pocket of her shorts. Vittoria removed an ultrathin cell phone. The guard took it, clicked it on, waited for a dial tone, and then, apparently satisfied that it was indeed nothing more than a phone, returned it to her. Vittoria slid it back into her pocket. â€Å"Turn around, please,† the guard said. Vittoria obliged, holding her arms out and rotating a full 360 degrees. The guard carefully studied her. Langdon had already decided that Vittoria's form-fitting shorts and blouse were not bulging anywhere they shouldn't have been. Apparently the guard came to the same conclusion. â€Å"Thank you. This way please.† The Swiss Guard chopper churned in neutral as Langdon and Vittoria approached. Vittoria boarded first, like a seasoned pro, barely even stooping as she passed beneath the whirling rotors. Langdon held back a moment. â€Å"No chance of a car?† he yelled, half-joking to the Swiss Guard, who was climbing in the pilot's seat. The man did not answer. Langdon knew that with Rome's maniacal drivers, flying was probably safer anyway. He took a deep breath and boarded, stooping cautiously as he passed beneath the spinning rotors. As the guard fired up the engines, Vittoria called out, â€Å"Have you located the canister?† The guard glanced over his shoulder, looking confused. â€Å"The what?† â€Å"The canister. You called CERN about a canister?† The man shrugged. â€Å"No idea what you're talking about. We've been very busy today. My commander told me to pick you up. That's all I know.† Vittoria gave Langdon an unsettled look. â€Å"Buckle up, please,† the pilot said as the engine revved. Langdon reached for his seat belt and strapped himself in. The tiny fuselage seemed to shrink around him. Then with a roar, the craft shot up and banked sharply north toward Rome. Rome†¦ the caput mundi, where Caesar once ruled, where St. Peter was crucified. The cradle of modern civilization. And at its core†¦ a ticking bomb. 33 Rome from the air is a labyrinth – an indecipherable maze of ancient roadways winding around buildings, fountains, and crumbling ruins. The Vatican chopper stayed low in the sky as it sliced northwest through the permanent smog layer coughed up by the congestion below. Langdon gazed down at the mopeds, sight-seeing buses, and armies of miniature Fiat sedans buzzing around rotaries in all directions. Koyaanisqatsi, he thought, recalling the Hopi term for â€Å"life out of balance.† Vittoria sat in silent determination in the seat beside him. The chopper banked hard. His stomach dropping, Langdon gazed farther into the distance. His eyes found the crumbling ruins of the Roman Coliseum. The Coliseum, Langdon had always thought, was one of history's greatest ironies. Now a dignified symbol for the rise of human culture and civilization, the stadium had been built to host centuries of barbaric events – hungry lions shredding prisoners, armies of slaves battling to the death, gang rapes of exotic women captured from far-off lands, as well as public beheadings and castrations. It was ironic, Langdon thought, or perhaps fitting, that the Coliseum had served as the architectural blueprint for Harvard's Soldier Field – the football stadium where the ancient traditions of savagery were reenacted every fall†¦ crazed fans screaming for bloodshed as Harvard battled Yale. As the chopper headed north, Langdon spied the Roman Forum – the heart of pre-Christian Rome. The decaying columns looked like toppled gravestones in a cemetery that had somehow avoided being swallowed by the metropolis surrounding it. To the west the wide basin of the Tiber River wound enormous arcs across the city. Even from the air Langdon could tell the water was deep. The churning currents were brown, filled with silt and foam from heavy rains. â€Å"Straight ahead,† the pilot said, climbing higher. Langdon and Vittoria looked out and saw it. Like a mountain parting the morning fog, the colossal dome rose out of the haze before them: St. Peter's Basilica. â€Å"Now that,† Langdon said to Vittoria, â€Å"is something Michelangelo got right.† Langdon had never seen St. Peter's from the air. The marble faà §ade blazed like fire in the afternoon sun. Adorned with 140 statues of saints, martyrs, and angels, the Herculean edifice stretched two football fields wide and a staggering six long. The cavernous interior of the basilica had room for over 60,000 worshipers†¦ over one hundred times the population of Vatican City, the smallest country in the world. Incredibly, though, not even a citadel of this magnitude could dwarf the piazza before it. A sprawling expanse of granite, St. Peter's Square was a staggering open space in the congestion of Rome, like a classical Central Park. In front of the basilica, bordering the vast oval common, 284 columns swept outward in four concentric arcs of diminishing size†¦ an architectural trompe de l'oiel used to heighten the piazza's sense of grandeur. As he stared at the magnificent shrine before him, Langdon wondered what St. Peter would think if he were here now. The Saint had died a gruesome death, crucified upside down on this very spot. Now he rested in the most sacred of tombs, buried five stories down, directly beneath the central cupola of the basilica. â€Å"Vatican City,† the pilot said, sounding anything but welcoming. Langdon looked out at the towering stone bastions that loomed ahead – impenetrable fortifications surrounding the complex†¦ a strangely earthly defense for a spiritual world of secrets, power, and mystery. â€Å"Look!† Vittoria said suddenly, grabbing Langdon's arm. She motioned frantically downward toward St. Peter's Square directly beneath them. Langdon put his face to the window and looked. â€Å"Over there,† she said, pointing. Langdon looked. The rear of the piazza looked like a parking lot crowded with a dozen or so trailer trucks. Huge satellite dishes pointed skyward from the roof of every truck. The dishes were emblazoned with familiar names: Televisor Europea Video Italia BBC United Press International Langdon felt suddenly confused, wondering if the news of the antimatter had already leaked out. Vittoria seemed suddenly tense. â€Å"Why is the press here? What's going on?† The pilot turned and gave her an odd look over his shoulder. â€Å"What's going on? You don't know?† â€Å"No,† she fired back, her accent husky and strong. â€Å"Il Conclavo,† he said. â€Å"It is to be sealed in about an hour. The whole world is watching.† Il Conclavo. The word rang a long moment in Langdon's ears before dropping like a brick to the pit of his stomach. Il Conclavo. The Vatican Conclave. How could he have forgotten? It had been in the news recently. Fifteen days ago, the Pope, after a tremendously popular twelve-year reign, had passed away. Every paper in the world had carried the story about the Pope's fatal stroke while sleeping – a sudden and unexpected death many whispered was suspicious. But now, in keeping with the sacred tradition, fifteen days after the death of a Pope, the Vatican was holding Il Conclavo – the sacred ceremony in which the 165 cardinals of the world – the most powerful men in Christendom – gathered in Vatican City to elect the new Pope. Every cardinal on the planet is here today, Langdon thought as the chopper passed over St. Peter's Basilica. The expansive inner world of Vatican City spread out beneath him. The entire power structure of the Roman Catholic Church is sitting on a time bomb. 34 Cardinal Mortati gazed up at the lavish ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and tried to find a moment of quiet reflection. The frescoed walls echoed with the voices of cardinals from nations around the globe. The men jostled in the candlelit tabernacle, whispering excitedly and consulting with one another in numerous languages, the universal tongues being English, Italian, and Spanish. The light in the chapel was usually sublime – long rays of tinted sun slicing through the darkness like rays from heaven – but not today. As was the custom, all of the chapel's windows had been covered in black velvet in the name of secrecy. This ensured that no one on the inside could send signals or communicate in any way with the outside world. The result was a profound darkness lit only by candles†¦ a shimmering radiance that seemed to purify everyone it touched, making them all ghostly†¦ like saints. What privilege, Mortati thought, that I am to oversee this sanctified event. Cardinals over eighty years of age were too old to be eligible for election and did not attend conclave, but at seventy-nine years old, Mortati was the most senior cardinal here and had been appointed to oversee the proceedings. Following tradition, the cardinals gathered here two hours before conclave to catch up with friends and engage in last-minute discussion. At 7 P.M., the late Pope's chamberlain would arrive, give opening prayer, and then leave. Then the Swiss Guard would seal the doors and lock all the cardinals inside. It was then that the oldest and most secretive political ritual in the world would begin. The cardinals would not be released until they decided who among them would be the next Pope. Conclave. Even the name was secretive. â€Å"Con clave† literally meant â€Å"locked with a key.† The cardinals were permitted no contact whatsoever with the outside world. No phone calls. No messages. No whispers through doorways. Conclave was a vacuum, not to be influenced by anything in the outside world. This would ensure that the cardinals kept Solum Dum prae oculis†¦ only God before their eyes. Outside the walls of the chapel, of course, the media watched and waited, speculating as to which of the cardinals would become the ruler of one billion Catholics worldwide. Conclaves created an intense, politically charged atmosphere, and over the centuries they had turned deadly: poisonings, fist fights, and even murder had erupted within the sacred walls. Ancient history, Mortati thought. Tonight's conclave will be unified, blissful, and above all†¦ brief. Or at least that had been his speculation. Now, however, an unexpected development had emerged. Mystifyingly, four cardinals were absent from the chapel. Mortati knew that all the exits to Vatican City were guarded, and the missing cardinals could not have gone far, but still, with less than an hour before opening prayer, he was feeling disconcerted. After all, the four missing men were no ordinary cardinals. They were the cardinals. The chosen four. As overseer of the conclave, Mortati had already sent word through the proper channels to the Swiss Guard alerting them to the cardinals' absence. He had yet to hear back. Other cardinals had now noticed the puzzling absence. The anxious whispers had begun. Of all cardinals, these four should be on time! Cardinal Mortati was starting to fear it might be a long evening after all. He had no idea. 35 The Vatican's helipad, for reasons of safety and noise control, is located in the northwest tip of Vatican City, as far from St. Peter's Basilica as possible. â€Å"Terra firma,† the pilot announced as they touched down. He exited and opened the sliding door for Langdon and Vittoria. Langdon descended from the craft and turned to help Vittoria, but she had already dropped effortlessly to the ground. Every muscle in her body seemed tuned to one objective – finding the antimatter before it left a horrific legacy. After stretching a reflective sun tarp across the cockpit window, the pilot ushered them to an oversized electric golf cart waiting near the helipad. The cart whisked them silently alongside the country's western border – a fifty-foot-tall cement bulwark thick enough to ward off attacks even by tanks. Lining the interior of the wall, posted at fifty-meter intervals, Swiss Guards stood at attention, surveying the interior of the grounds. The cart turned sharply right onto Via della Osservatorio. Signs pointed in all directions: Palazzio Governatorio Collegio Ethiopiana Basilica San Pietro Capella Sistina They accelerated up the manicured road past a squat building marked Radio Vaticana. This, Langdon realized to his amazement, was the hub of the world's most listened-to radio programming – Radio Vaticana – spreading the word of God to millions of listeners around the globe. â€Å"Attenzione,† the pilot said, turning sharply into a rotary. As the cart wound round, Langdon could barely believe the sight now coming into view. Giardini Vaticani, he thought. The heart of Vatican City. Directly ahead rose the rear of St. Peter's Basilica, a view, Langdon realized, most people never saw. To the right loomed the Palace of the Tribunal, the lush papal residence rivaled only by Versailles in its baroque embellishment. The severe-looking Governatorato building was now behind them, housing Vatican City's administration. And up ahead on the left, the massive rectangular edifice of the Vatican Museum. Langdon knew there would be no time for a museum visit this trip. â€Å"Where is everyone?† Vittoria asked, surveying the deserted lawns and walkways. The guard checked his black, military-style chronograph – an odd anachronism beneath his puffy sleeve. â€Å"The cardinals are convened in the Sistine Chapel. Conclave begins in a little under an hour.† Langdon nodded, vaguely recalling that before conclave the cardinals spent two hours inside the Sistine Chapel in quiet reflection and visitations with their fellow cardinals from around the globe. The time was meant to renew old friendships among the cardinals and facilitate a less heated election process. â€Å"And the rest of the residents and staff?† â€Å"Banned from the city for secrecy and security until the conclave concludes.† â€Å"And when does it conclude?† The guard shrugged. â€Å"God only knows.† The words sounded oddly literal. After parking the cart on the wide lawn directly behind St. Peter's Basilica, the guard escorted Langdon and Vittoria up a stone escarpment to a marble plaza off the back of the basilica. Crossing the plaza, they approached the rear wall of the basilica and followed it through a triangular courtyard, across Via Belvedere, and into a series of buildings closely huddled together. Langdon's art history had taught him enough Italian to pick out signs for the Vatican Printing Office, the Tapestry Restoration Lab, Post Office Management, and the Church of St. Ann. They crossed another small square and arrived at their destination. The Office of the Swiss Guard is housed adjacent to Il Corpo di Vigilanza, directly northeast of St. Peter's Basilica. The office is a squat, stone building. On either side of the entrance, like two stone statues, stood a pair of guards. Langdon had to admit, these guards did not look quite so comical. Although they also wore the blue and gold uniform, each wielded the traditional â€Å"Vatican long sword† – an eight-foot spear with a razor-sharp scythe – rumored to have decapitated countless Muslims while defending the Christian crusaders in the fifteenth century. As Langdon and Vittoria approached, the two guards stepped forward, crossing their long swords, blocking the entrance. One looked up at the pilot in confusion. â€Å"I pantaloni,† he said, motioning to Vittoria's shorts. The pilot waved them off. â€Å"Il comandante vuole vederli subito.† The guards frowned. Reluctantly they stepped aside. Inside, the air was cool. It looked nothing like the administrative security offices Langdon would have imagined. Ornate and impeccably furnished, the hallways contained paintings Langdon was certain any museum worldwide would gladly have featured in its main gallery. The pilot pointed down a steep set of stairs. â€Å"Down, please.† Langdon and Vittoria followed the white marble treads as they descended between a gauntlet of nude male sculptures. Each statue wore a fig leaf that was lighter in color than the rest of the body. The Great Castration, Langdon thought. It was one of the most horrific tragedies in Renaissance art. In 1857, Pope Pius IX decided that the accurate representation of the male form might incite lust inside the Vatican. So he got a chisel and mallet and hacked off the genitalia of every single male statue inside Vatican City. He defaced works by Michelangelo, Bramante, and Bernini. Plaster fig leaves were used to patch the damage. Hundreds of sculptures had been emasculated. Langdon had often wondered if there was a huge crate of stone penises someplace. â€Å"Here,† the guard announced. They reached the bottom of the stairs and dead-ended at a heavy, steel door. The guard typed an entry code, and the door slid open. Langdon and Vittoria entered. Beyond the threshold was absolute mayhem.

The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner Chapters 9

â€Å"Trust me, we know the difficulties better than you. It is remarkable that you've managed to keep off the radar, so to speak, for this long. Tel me† – a hint of interest colored the monotone – â€Å"how are you doing it?† Our creator hesitated, and then spoke al in a rush. Almost as if there had been some silent intimidation. â€Å"I haven't made the decision,† she spit out. Then she added more slowly, unwil ingly, â€Å"To attack. I've never decided to do anything with them.† â€Å"Rough, but effective,† the cloaked girl said. â€Å"Unfortunately, your period of deliberation has come to a close. You must decide – now – what you wil do with your little army.† Both Diego's and my eyes widened at that word. â€Å"Otherwise, it wil be our duty to punish you as the law demands. This reprieve, however short, troubles me. It is not our way. I suggest you give us what assurances you can†¦ quickly.† â€Å"We'l go at once!† Riley volunteered anxiously, and there was a sharp hiss. â€Å"We'l go as soon as possible,† our creator amended furiously. â€Å"There is much to do. I assume you wish us to succeed? Then I must have a little time to get them trained – instructed – fed!† There was a short pause. â€Å"Five days. We wil come for you then. And there is no rock you can hide under or speed at which you can flee that wil save you. If you have not made your attack by the time we come, you wil burn.† This was said with no menace other than an absolute certainty. â€Å"And if I have made my attack?† our creator asked, shaken. â€Å"We'l see,† the cloaked girl answered in a brighter tone than she'd used yet. â€Å"I suppose that al depends on how successful you are. Work hard to please us.† The last command was given in a flat, hard pitch that made me feel a strange chil in the center of my body. â€Å"Yes,† our creator snarled. â€Å"Yes,† Riley echoed in a whisper. A second later the cloaked vampires were noiselessly exiting the house. Neither Diego nor I so much as took a breath for five minutes after they'd disappeared. Inside the house, our creator and Riley were just as quiet. Another ten minutes passed in total stil ness. I touched Diego's arm. This was our chance to get out of here. At the moment, I wasn't so afraid of Riley anymore. I wanted to get as far away as I could from those dark-cloaks. I wanted the safety of numbers waiting back in the log cabin, and I figured that was exactly how our creator felt, too. Why she'd made so many of us in the first place. There were some things out there scarier than I'd imagined. Diego hesitated, stil listening, and a second later his patience was rewarded. â€Å"Wel ,† she whispered inside the house, â€Å"now they know.† Was she talking about the cloaks or the mysterious clan? Which one was the enemy she'd mentioned before the drama? â€Å"That doesn't matter. We outnumber – â€Å" â€Å"Any warning matters!† she growled, cutting him off. â€Å"There is so much to do. Only five days!† She groaned. â€Å"No more messing around. You start tonight.† â€Å"I won't fail you!† Riley promised. Crap. Diego and I moved at the same time, leaping from our perch into the next tree over, flying back the way we'd come. Riley was in a hurry now, and if he found Diego's trail after al that had just passed with the cloaks, and no Diego there at the end of it†¦ â€Å"I've got to get back and be waiting,† Diego whispered to me as we raced. â€Å"Lucky it's not in view of the house! Don't want him to know I heard.† â€Å"We should talk to him together.† â€Å"Too late for that. He'd notice that your scent wasn't on the trail. Looks suspicious.† â€Å"Diego†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He'd trapped me into sitting this one out. We were back to the spot where he'd joined me. He spoke in a rushed whisper. â€Å"Stick to the plan, Bree. I'l tel him what I planned to tel him. It's not close to dawn, but that's just how it has to be. If he doesn't believe me†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Diego shrugged. â€Å"He's got bigger things to worry about than me having an overactive imagination. Maybe he'l be more likely to listen now – looks like we need al the help we can get, and being able to move around in the day can't hurt.† â€Å"Diego†¦,† I repeated, not knowing what else to say. He looked into my eyes, and I waited for his lips to twitch into that easy smile, for him to make some joke about ninjas or BFFs. He didn't. Instead, he leaned in slowly, never moving his eyes from mine, and kissed me. His smooth lips pressed against mine for one long second while we stared at each other. Then he leaned away and sighed. â€Å"Get home, hide behind Fred, and act clueless. I'l be right behind you.† â€Å"Be careful.† I grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard, then let go. Riley had spoken of Diego affectionately. I would have to hope that affection was real. There wasn't another choice. Diego disappeared into the trees, quiet as a rustling breeze. I didn't waste time looking after him. I sprinted through the branches in a direct line back to the house. I hoped my eyes were stil bright enough from last night's meal to explain my absence. Just a quick hunt. Got lucky – found a lone hiker. Nothing out of the ordinary. The sound of the thudding music that greeted my approach was accompanied by the unmistakable sweet, smoky scent of a burning vampire. My panic went into overdrive. I could just as easily die inside the house as outside. But there was no other way. I didn't slow, just rushed down the stairs straight to the corner where I could barely make out Freaky Fred standing. Looking for something to do? Tired of sitting? I had no idea what he was up to, and I didn't care. I would stick tight to him until Riley and Diego got back. In the middle of the floor was a smoldering heap that was too big to be just a leg or an arm. So much for Riley's twentytwo. No one seemed terribly concerned about the smoking remains. The sight was too common. As I hurried closer to Fred, for once the sense of disgust didn't get stronger. Instead, it faded. He didn't seem to notice me, just went on reading the book he held. One of those I'd left him a few days ago. I had no problem seeing what he was doing now that I was close to where he was leaning against the back of the couch. I hesitated, wondering why that was. Could he turn his nausea thing off when he wanted? Did that mean we both were unprotected right now? At least Raoul wasn't home yet, thankful y, though Kevin was. For the first time ever, I real y saw what Fred looked like. He was tal, maybe six two, with the thick, curly blond hair I'd noticed once before. He was broad-shouldered and muscular. He looked older than most of the others – like a col ege student, not a high school kid. And – this was the part that surprised me most for some reason – he was good-looking. As handsome as anyone else, maybe even handsomer than most. I didn't know why that was so trippy for me. I guessed just because I always associated him with revulsion. I felt weird for staring. I glanced quickly around the room to see if anyone had noticed that Fred was normal – and pretty – for the moment. No one was looking our way. I stole a fast peek at Kevin, ready to shift my focus at once if he noticed, but his eyes were concentrated on some point to the left of where we stood. He was frowning slightly. Before I could look away, his gaze skipped right over to me and settled on my right side. His frown deepened. Like†¦ he was trying to see me and couldn't. I felt the corners of my mouth twitch into not quite a grin. There was too much to worry about to real y enjoy Kevin's blindness. I looked back at Fred, wondering if the gross-out factor would return, only to see that he was smiling with me. Smiling, he was real y spectacular. Then the moment was over, and Fred went back to his book. I didn't move for a while, waiting for something to happen. For Diego to come through the door. Or Riley with Diego. Or Raoul. Or for the nausea to hit again, or for Kevin to glare in my direction, or for the next fight to break out. Something. When nothing did, I eventual y pul ed myself together and did what I should have been doing – pretending nothing unusual was going on. I grabbed a book from the pile near Fred's feet and then sat down right there and acted like I was reading. It was probably one of the same books I'd pretended to read yesterday, but it didn't look familiar. I flipped through the pages, again taking nothing in. My mind was racing around in tight little circles. Where was Diego? How had Riley reacted to his story? What had it al meant – the talk before the cloaks, the talk after the cloaks? I worked through it, going backward, trying to assemble the pieces into a recognizable picture. The vampire world had some kind of police, and they were damn scary. This wild group of months-old vampires was supposed to be an army, and this army was somehow il egal. Our creator had an enemy. Strike that, two enemies. We were going to attack one of them in five days, or else the other ones, the scary cloaks, were going to attack her – or us, or both. We would be trained for this attack†¦ as soon as Riley got back. I snuck a glance at the door, then forced my eyes back to the page in front of me. And then the stuff before the visitors. She was worrying about some decision. She was pleased that she had so many vampires – so many soldiers. Riley was happy that Diego and I had survived†¦. He'd said he thought he'd lost two more to the sun, so that must mean he didn't know how vampires really reacted to sunlight. What she'd said was strange, though. She'd asked if he was sure. Sure Diego had survived? Or†¦ sure that Diego's story was true? The last thought frightened me. Did she already know that the sun didn't hurt us? If she did know, then why had she lied to Riley and, through him, to us? Why would she want to keep us in the dark – literal y? Was it very important to her that we stay ignorant? Important enough to get Diego in trouble? I was working myself into a real panic, frozen solid. If I stil could sweat, I would have been sweating now. I had to refocus to turn the next page, to keep my eyes down. Was Riley deceived, or was he in on it, too? When Riley'd said he thought he'd lost two more to the sun, did he mean the sun literal y†¦ or the lie about the sun? If it was the second option, then to know the truth meant being lost. Panic scattered my thoughts. I tried to be rational and make sense of it. It was harder without Diego. Having someone to talk to, to interact with, sharpened my ability to concentrate. Without that, fear sucked at the edges of my thoughts, twisted with the always-present thirst. The lure of blood was constantly close to the surface. Even now, decently wel fed, I could feel the burn and the need. Think about her, think about Riley, I told myself. I had to understand why they would lie – if they were lying – so that I could try to figure out what it would mean to them that Diego knew their secret. If they hadn't lied, if they'd just told us al that the day was as safe for us as the night, how would that change things? I imagined what it would be like if we didn't have to be contained in a blacked-out basement al day, if the twenty-one of us – maybe fewer now, depending on how the hunting parties were getting along – were free to do what we wanted whenever we wanted to. We would want to hunt. That was a given. If we didn't have to come back, if we didn't have to hide†¦ wel, many of us wouldn't come back very regularly. It was hard to focus on the return while the thirst was in charge. But Riley had dril ed so deeply into al of us the threat of burning, of a return of that hideous pain we'd al experienced once. That was the reason we could stop ourselves. Self-preservation, the only instinct stronger than thirst. So the threat kept us together. There were other hiding places, like Diego's cave, but who else thought about that kind of thing? We had a place to go, a base, so we went to it. Clear heads were not a vampire specialty. Or, at least, they weren't the specialty of young vampires. Riley was clearheaded. Diego was more clearheaded than I was. Those cloaked vampires were terrifyingly focused. I shuddered. So the routine wouldn't control us forever. What would they do when we were older, clearer? It struck me that nobody was older than Riley. Everyone here was new. She needed a bunch of us now for this mystery enemy. But what about afterward? I had a strong feeling that I didn't want to be around for that part. And I suddenly realized something stupendously obvious. It was the solution that had tickled the edges of my understanding before, when I was tracking the vampire herd to this place with Diego. I didn't have to be around for that part. I didn't have to be around for one more night. I was a statue again as I thought over this stunning idea. If Diego and I hadn't known where the gang was most likely headed, would we ever have found them? Probably not. And that was a big group leaving a wide trail. What if it were a single vampire, one who could leap up onto the land, maybe into a tree, without leaving a trail at the edge of the water†¦. Just one, or maybe two vampires who could swim as far out to sea as they wanted†¦ Who could return to land anywhere†¦ Canada, California, Chile, China†¦ You would never be able to find those two vampires. They would be gone. Disappeared like they'd gone up in smoke. We didn't have to come back the other night! We shouldn't have! Why hadn't I thought of it then? But†¦ would Diego have agreed? I was abruptly not so sure of myself. Was Diego more loyal to Riley after al ? Would he have felt it was his responsibility to stand by Riley? He'd known Riley a lot longer – he'd real y only known me a day. Was he closer to Riley than he was to me? I pondered that, frowning. Wel, I would find out as soon as we had a minute alone. And then maybe, if our secret club real y meant something, it wouldn't matter what our creator had planned for us. We could disappear, and Riley would have to make do with nineteen vampires, or make some new ones quick. Either way, not our problem. I couldn't wait to tel Diego my plan. My gut instinct was that he would feel the same. Hopeful y. Suddenly, I wondered if this was what had real y happened to Shel y and Steve and the other kids who had disappeared. I knew they hadn't burned in the sun. Had Riley only claimed he'd seen their ashes as another way to keep the rest of us afraid and dependent on him? Returning home to him every dawn? Maybe Shel y and Steve had just set off on their own. No more Raoul. No enemies or armies threatening their immediate future. Maybe that's what Riley had meant by lost to the sun. Runaways. In which case, he'd be happy that Diego hadn't bailed, right? If only Diego and I had taken off! We could be free, too, like Shel y and Steve. No rules, no fear of the sunrise. Again, I imagined the whole horde of us on the loose without a curfew. I could see Diego and me moving like ninjas through the shade. But I could also see Raoul, Kevin, and the rest, sparkling disco-bal monsters in the center of a busy downtown street, the bodies piling up, the screaming, the helicopters whirring, the soft, helpless cops with their dinky little bul ets that wouldn't make a dent, the cameras, the panic that would spread so fast as the pictures bounced swiftly around the globe. Vampires wouldn't be a secret for very long. Even Raoul couldn't kil people fast enough to keep the story from spreading. There was a chain of logic here, and I tried to grasp it before I could be distracted again. One, humans didn't know about vampires. Two, Riley encouraged us to be inconspicuous, not to attract the notice of humans and educate them otherwise. Three, Diego and I had decided that al vampires must be fol owing that guideline, or else the world would know about us. Four, they must have a reason for doing so, and it wasn't the little popguns of the human police that motivated them. Yeah, the reason must be pretty important to make al vampires hide al day long in stuffy basements. Maybe reason enough to make Riley and our creator lie to us, terrify us about the burning sun. Maybe it was a reason Riley would explain to Diego, and since it was so important and he was so responsible, Diego would promise to keep the secret and they would be cool with that. Sure they would. But what if what actual y happened to Shel y and Steve was that they'd discovered the shiny skin thing and not run? What if they'd gone to Riley? And, crap, there went the next step in my logical path. The chain dissolved and I started panicking about Diego again. As I stressed, I realized that I'd been thinking things through for a while. I could feel dawn coming on. No more than an hour away. So where was Diego? Where was Riley? As I thought this, the door opened and Raoul leaped down the stairs, laughing with his buddies. I hunched down, leaning closer to Fred. Raoul didn't notice us. He looked at the crispyfried vampire in the center of the floor and laughed harder. His eyes were bril iant red. On the nights Raoul went hunting, he never came home til he had to. He would keep feeding as long as he could. So dawn must have been even closer than I'd thought. Riley must have demanded that Diego prove his words. That was the only explanation. And they were waiting for the dawn. Only†¦ that would mean that Riley didn't know the truth, that our creator was lying to him, too. Or did it? My thoughts twisted up again. Kristie showed up minutes later with three of her gang. She reacted indifferently to the pile of ashes. I did a quick head count as two more hunters hurried through the door. Twenty vampires. Everyone was home except Diego and Riley. The sun would rise at any moment. The door at the top of the basement stairs creaked as someone opened it. I sprang to my feet. Riley entered. He shut the door behind him. He walked down the stairs. No one fol owed.

Teen Obesity

When I was a teenager I faced obesity myself. Going through high school was the hardest thing ever. I weighed over two hundred pounds and I was constantly getting bullied and made fun of. When I was at home all I did sit around watch TV, play video games, and eat constantly. I never thought of going outside and doing physical fitness. Well one day I was lying in my bed and I was thinking about what I was doing to myself and how one day I could possibly not be here anymore if I keep doing what I am doing. My senior year of high school was a big change in my life. I lost over seventy pounds and I felt great about myself. Teenage obesity is getting worse over the years in America. The growth rates of teen obesity increasing are stunning. The reasons why teens are becoming obese are because of less activity or inactivity, excess TV watching, and fast food restaurants. First cause of teen obesity is less activity or inactivity of teenagers. Teenagers are more likely to become obese if they do not perform any activity at all or they are not doing enough activity to burn off calories and carbohydrates that cause fat build up in the body. Many television studies show that teenagers who have television sets in their bedrooms tend to watch TV more which can lead to inactivity†. (Teenage Obesity pg. 1) In order to prevent teens from becoming obese they must stay involved in some type of activity like sports, running, walking, bike riding, swimming, and etc†¦ these activities must be done every day or at least five times a week. Also parents can be a big cause of teen obesity. The reason why is because lots of parents don’t care about their children doing activities. If parents were raised doing whatever they wanted to do then more than likely their children are going to be raised the same way. Some parents are suffering from obesity themselves so this shows that their children are looking at their parents as being lazy and the children think they can do the same thing which leads the children to inactivity. Second cause of teen obesity is excess TV watching. TV watching is the main cause of teen obesity. The reason being is because teens tend to get addicted to TV shows and video games which leads them to become couch potato’s. Couch potato’s are caused by teens who sit, immobile, watching a screen instead of playing sports. A second view ties TV watching to eating, either through a barrage of ads or because teens snack while watching†. (ScienceDaily Pg. 1) â€Å"25% shows that television watching causes teens to snack largely on junk food because of food commercials that intimidate teens†. (ScienceDaily Pg. 1) Teen agers that sit on the couch and watch TV for excess amounts of hours causes the body to build up excess fat because there is nothing being burned off. Not only is TV causing teens to be overweight but video games are another big factor in teen obesity. â€Å"Children with higher weight status spent moderate amounts of time playing electronic video games†. (ScienceDaily Pg. 1) Video games become so addicting to teens that right when they get home from school they head straight to the couch to play. This causes teens to become lazy and obese. Final cause of teen obesity is Fast food restaurants. Fast food restaurants are a leading cause to teenage obesity. The reason why is because teens have no clue what they are ordering or if what they are eating is healthy for you or not. Also lots of teens are lazy to eat something from home, so they head out to a fast food restaurant where they can eat a lot of food for cheap money. Parents are a big reason for this because when parents have to work during the day they get tired and when they get home there too lazy to cook anything for their children so they take them out to dinner for fast food because again it’s cheap. Fast food contains high saturated fats and calories. Fast foods are packed with high amounts of sugar, carbohydrates, oil etc. Even small amount of fast food can increase your calorie intake considerably. †(YgoY Pg. 1) All of these lead to obesity. Another reason that fast food causes teens to be obese is because it is very addicting. It’s addicting because of the taste, advertisements, and it’s cheap to buy. â€Å"According to research, teenagers who eat fast food two times a week their obesity risk increases by 50%†. YgoY Pg. 1) Fast food eating leads teens from eating fruits and vegetables because of the addiction to the taste of fast food which cause obesity to rise in teens. In conclusion teen obesity is rising every year in America. The only way to stop this from rising is on the parents and on how they should raise their kids and to show them the right way not the wrong. I main causes of teen obesity are inactivity or less activity, excess TV watching, and fast food restaurants.

Wirk

In the previous seminar that I wasn't able to attend on time, I learned some helpful Information that will be beneficial throughout my semester in this class. All the basics were broken down so clearly by my professor. Such as, what to do when you have a question private and not as private. If the question is private you can just simply e-mail the professor and he will get back to you within a twenty-four time period. Also, for the questions that aren't as private you can Just simply post It In the discussion board, therefore your fellow classmates can help you with your problems.As stated by my professor we are all In this together. Furthermore, I was taught how to maneuver my way around the online page. For Instance, how to submit work In the drop. You Just have to go to the drop tab and go to submit assignment and then browse. After browsing for your assignment you will attach and send. This way your work will be there In time for grading. In Dalton, It Is stated to never delete y our saved assignment due to a disruption while It Is being graded. If you don't save it and it is told to you it's not submitted then you will have to do the assignment all ever.Moreover, I learned the many different ways getting to know my classmates. The discussion board is a very good source of that because, you can have discussions of different facts and opinions. Also, sometimes even provide more details from what you have studied or researched on. Another way to connect with your peers is to just e-mail them to get information correctly, get to know them better and even meet. Even though I never e-mailed anyone I am still comfortable in knowing their views on certain things.All in all I believe the seminar is a good way to know what you are up against for that following week. An hour a week on a specific day is not bad at all. Also, you can be active while being a part of it. Asking several questions and who knows your classmates can sometimes answer the question as well as th e professor can. It is actually a good way to do this class instead of being in class bored and with little or no input at all. Wire By Momentarily 7 information that will be beneficial throughout my semester in this class. All the have a question private and not as private.If the question is private you can Just period. Also, for the questions that aren't as private you can Just simply post it in the As stated by my professor we are all in this together. Furthermore, I was taught how to maneuver my way around the online page. For instance, how to submit work in the your work will be there in time for grading. In addition, it is stated to never delete your saved assignment due to a disruption while it is being graded.