Analysis and Application of Clinical Practice Guidelines & Scoring Essay

Examination and Application of Clinical Practice Guidelines and Scoring Rubric - Essay Example lines are an arrangement of suggestions on clinical consideration helped by the best present sign in a clinical writing (Castellani, Girlanda, and Barbu, 2014). For quite a while, Clinical Practice Guidelines on a few events have been utilized and manhandled. In spite of the fact that position explanations on the best consideration were intended to be fair-minded, the archives were dangerous. The procedure of improvement didn't meet straightforwardness prerequisites, and the specialists engaged with the advancement made the material valuable to themselves. Patients and rehearsing doctors typically felt cheated in situations where choices on medicinal services were centered around rules worried about financial and not quality objectives. Through use of proof based medication procedures being developed of rules, supposition and inclinations are strikingly limited and the rise of rich logical writing is seen and evaluated in a methodical manner to offer straightforwardness and decrease awkwardness in proof based Clinical Practice Guidelines. Proof based Clinical Practice Guidelines are more prominent than non-proof based Clinical Practice Guidelines and are correct devices of better quality patient consideration. The organized, straightforward procedure utilized in creating Clinical Practice Procedures makes them hard to manhandle and simple to utilize. Proof based Clinical Practice Procedures are being utilized to make quality measures just as used to help referrals when insurance agencies question them. Notwithstanding that Clinical Practice Procedures go about as patient’s training devices. Proof put together Clinical Practice Procedures with respect to a national level are an immediate methods for development of value and assume a major job really taking shape of proportions of execution for pay-for-execution reimbursement programs. Rehearsing orthopedists are given a voice by the proof based clinical practice rules. Society put together Clinical Practice Guidelines with respect to a nearby level are utilized to impact and advise emergency clinic rules so as to improve best practices.

Impact of Announcing Dividends on Shares Prices of Corporations Listed Dissertation

Effect of Announcing Dividends on Shares Prices of Corporations Listed in the Dubai Financial Market - Dissertation Example 1.2 Name and job of the specialist 1.3 Summary With the advancement of exchange and business, the essence of the money related markets has changed totally. Administrative specialists of various nations have understood the expanding significance of business for monetary turns of events. In this procedure, they endeavor to support the business condition through different methods. So as to support industrialization inside a nation, a gigantic measure of speculations is required. In any case, it isn't constantly feasible for the administration to give the whole cash-flow to creating development arranged financial structure. In this procedure, various money related markets assume an exceptionally significant job in forming an economy. The essential goal of monetary markets is to profit important capital for mechanical improvement from various sources. In this way, money related markets act a middle person that changes the perfect and potential capital for beneficial purposes. Besley and B righam have clarified that the budgetary market serves to â€Å"facilitate stream of fund† from various sources, and in the event of created nations, â€Å"financial markets help productively allot abundance assets of savers to people and association needing assets for venture or consumption† (Besley and Brigham, 2007, p.89). ... Among these, the monetary market is the most conspicuous as far as creating assets for open recorded organizations. The capital market assists with raising long haul assets from various retail or institutional financial specialists and the whole instrument is actually prepared however the stock trades. The capital markets bargain in two sub markets for example securities exchange and security advertise (CBL Economic Review, 2009). The ventures exchange process between the financial specialists and organizations are finished by the stock trade and the stock costs are commonly decided consequently dependent on the overarching request and flexibly. In any case, the stock costs stay for short run as request and gracefully of stock is questionable and will in general change from time to time (Gray, Cusatis and Woolridge, 2003, p.31). Be that as it may, there are additionally different components that impact the interest and flexibly of a stock. Fundamentally, numerous inward factors like organization execution, profit, rivalry and so on and outer variables like swelling, advertise structure, monetary cycle and so on are liable for affecting interest and flexibly (Khan and Zuberi, 1999, p.47). This exploration paper will endeavor to break down the job of profit declaration affecting a stock cost while concentrating on the organizations recorded in the Dubai Financial market. Profit is one of the inside elements that impact stock costs. Indeed, when the administrations of open recorded organizations declare the issue of profits, the stock costs are affected and there are different changes which can likewise be followed corresponding to the stock. Profit is â€Å"any appropriation made by an organization to its investors whether in cash or other property† (CCH Editors, 2009, p.119).

Fryday on Sunday

Fryday on Sunday Tonight, I emerged from a coma of essay-writing and unglued my gaze from OpenOffice long enough to wander up two flights of stairs and straight into a delirious, dripping dream. Having recovered enough by now to return my shocked fingers to their home-sweet-home row keys, I write this in pendulous obligation to the slippery edge of a Sunday night that is separated from Monday (a student holiday!) by precious few oscillations of a cesium atom. Editors note: The following is not for the faint of heart, nor the high of blood pressure, nor the diabetic of pancreas. Its the end of the week, and apparently someone up above (by which I mean the 4th floor of Random) has decided that the MIT student body has yet to change its weekly quota of potentially bad ideas into kinetically bad ideas. So, the logical conclusion is to deep fry various organic structures into a state of unrecognizable (yet crunchy) homogeneity. This made more sense than some of my answers to the last biology problem set, which took a long time to cook and turned out sort of bland, so I decided that it was safe to take a look. Before I venture any further, Id like to introduce you to a site called mitadmissions.org that has all sorts of fantastic information about admissions, academics, student life, apples, and even dining options at MIT. Some students prefer to cook their own meals, daily or on special occasions. Every dorm suite sports a full-size kitchen and barbecue pits line the courtyards of every residence hall. Never mind that this would imply that Random is not actually a residence hall by virtue of its lack of barbecue pits (not to mention a courtyard in which the barbecue pits line themselves up like well-behaved, frankfurter-cooking kindergarteners, pardon the mixed simile); lets talk about the kitchen and its role in certain not-unheard-of “special occasions”. Random Hall has roughly 0.0714 kitchens per resident (thats one kitchen per fourteen residents), so its more than plausible to make every day a special occasion. Its also within a 5 minute walk of two well-stocked grocery stores, one of which has a hefty supply of vegetarian/vegan/special diet options and the other of which has a hefty supply of MIT students stocking up on peanut butter, bread, and Nutella (in case France declares war, I guess). Thats in addition to a small Korean market across the street and a gas station convenience store within arms reach for anyone who has six-feet long arms. Rebecca 12, for instance, is renowned in Random Hall for her elaborate recipes, which are supposedly so complex that they exist only in the imaginary plane. I was fortunate enough to accompany her on one of her grocery runs last week and personally witnessed her purchase of $80 worth of vegetables and cooking staples (vinegar, rice, etc.), which will no doubt go into many weeks of tasty and nutritious dinners. This blog, however, is not about Rebecca and definitely not about nutrition. Its about various permutations of grease and meat and pastries. Please adjust your expectations accordingly at this time. So, up I walked the stairs like Alice into a greasy Wonderland where the atmosphere was an unearthly solution of nitrogen, oxygen, and oil droplets, heavy with visions of unborn culinary chimeras. The atmosphere was palpitant as Dr. Frankenstein readied the fryer, the unspeakable materials having been collected and dumped tableward. Some of you are probably clutching your intestines in fright and wondering if Draino can be used to unclog arteries, but let it be said that this amputated Italian sausage was the lightweight of Randoms cholesterol olympics. Onions curled limply like deformed (yet crunchy) tentacles, remarkably similar to the ones that emerge from the plutonious depths of the Charles River during a full moon. Note to all the aspiring Jean Georges out there: Add flour to your onion rings before you coat them in batter, or else the hot oil will be like the Earths atmosphere and the batter will be like the rock on the outside of a meteor entering at 70 km/s. Conventionally, theres four states of matter. And then theres potato, which according to the latest research exists in at least 29 states of matter, including raw (the form occurring in nature), French fry (degenerate state with structural deficiencies), tater tot (only forms under high heat and pressure), mashed (theorized to be a transition state between baked potato and potato pie filling), and hashed brown (which, according to some physicists, has no inherent differences from the tater tot). Random Halls state-of-the-art deep fryer produced an impressive total of two such states in the span of 20 minutes. An in-depth, empirical analysis of our results will be published in next Januarys issue of Science. At some point, our lipid-covered soirée took a sharp left into total perversity. The philosophers of ancient Athens have long warned that the path to self-destruction begins with fried Oreos. . . . and soon progresses to the soft, golden centers of human vulnerability, sucking away the white cream like marrow from our hapless souls. Fried Twinkies were too morally challenging for some of our more conscientious participants, so they opted for a cleaner, lighter alternative. Deep-fried broccoli, crystallized in crusty nubs of pancake batter! Have you had your daily serving of irony today? Eventually, I got tired of living the hallucinations of a McDonalds worker on NyQuil, so I departed to my floor in escape from the reminders of tonights merciless ambush on innumerable broccoli stalks (for what is broccoli but the nuns of the vegetable world?). Peace was not to be found; it just so happened that someone else also considered tonight a special occasion. Natania had decided to bake a batch of cookies for her professors, which to me seems like baking a batch of tenure for your professors. What more could one ask for? The Food Pyramid just called and threatened to take legal action, so it looks like I now owe you a blog about health and wellness. Post Tagged #Random Hall

Unequal Democracy By Larry Bartle - 1503 Words

In â€Å"Unequal Democracy† written by Larry Bartle focuses on how politics have influenced the growing gap between the rich and poor in America. Bartle argues that the gap has resulted from policy choices dominated by partisan ideologies and interest of the wealthy, specifically under the Republican Party, while Democrats have managed to slightly decrease the gap. Bartle sheds light on how poor voters have a disadvantage in which wealthier voters are more affluent to political leaders. In addition, Bartle examines whether voting patterns of voters have contributed to the growing economic inequality, and he concludes voters do not weigh more into social and cultural issues; rather Republic presidents are good at timing income growth to garner voters. The political environment has essentially influenced economy, in result has led to a growing economic gap between the rich and poor, which is a national and state issue that must be addressed. Education is essential to attain so cial mobility, however students face difficult obstacles. Even though we have laws like No Child Left Behind Act (NCLB), however many students that come from low social class families do not have equal opportunities as students that come from higher income households. NCLB is encouraging on its face, but it does not address the unequal distribution of funds for districts. NCLB set standards in which students must achieve scores on standardized test rather than having access to equal opportunities, in

The Letter From Birmingham Jail Was Written By Dr. Martin

The letter from Birmingham Jail was written by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., a famous and influential activist during the period of Civil Rights struggle in 1960 s America, from a confinement cell in Birmingham as a response to the open letter written and published by eight white clergymen from Birmingham. In their letter, the clergymen criticized Dr. King and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) for their activism, while commending the Birmingham police. Though Dr. King structures the Letter as a direct response to the clergymen, they are ultimately a means through which he addresses white moderates in general and society at large. The Letter reflects many of his central philosophies, including those of nonviolence, civil†¦show more content†¦When they decided they could, they then prepared to protest. However, the SCLC chose to hold out because Birmingham had impending mayoral elections. Though the notorious racist Eugene â€Å"Bull† Connor was defeated in the election, his successor, Albert Boutwell, was also a pronounced segregationist. Therefore, the protests began. Dr. King understands that the clergymen value negotiation over protest, but he insists that negotiations cannot happen without protest, which creates a â€Å"crisis† and â€Å"tension† that forces unwilling parties (in this case, the white business owners) to negotiate in good faith. He admits that words like â€Å"tension† frighten white moderates, but embraces the concepts as â€Å"constructive and nonviolent.† He provides examples that suggest tension is necessary for humans to grow, and repeats that the tension created by direct action is necessary in this case if segregation is to end. He next turns to the clergymen criticism that the SCLC action is â€Å"untimely.† After insisting that Albert Boutwell was not different enough to warrant patience, he launches into an extended claim that â€Å"privileged groups† will always oppose action that threatens the status quo. They will always consider attacks on their privilege as â€Å"untimely,† especially because groups have a tendency towards allowing immorality that individuals might oppose. Dr. King insists that the black man has waited â€Å"more than 340 years† for justice, and he then launches into a litany of abuses thatShow MoreRelatedPersuasive Speech : Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.1334 Words   |  6 Pagesthe most important part of the speech is not what is said during the speech, but what the audience feels and remembers after the speech was over. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., a powerful advocate of African American rights, was an expert at convincing his audience to feel and react to his speeches however he wanted them to. One of the main ways he achieved this was through the use of the artistic proofs. The ‘artistic proofs’ is a term coined by the ancient greek philosopher known as Aristotle (User)Read MoreLetter From Birmingham Jail Analysis1617 Words   |  7 Pagesamusement park,; that was the painful impediment that African Americans of the 1960’s faced solely due to the melanin in their skin (King 2). Among these African Am ericans was the reverend, doctor, humanist, husband, and Civil Rights activist, Mr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King was a middle class, black man with a life-long devotion of implementing ethnic equality to African Americans nationwide. Following one of Rev. King’s peaceful protests in Birmingham, Alabama, he was jailed on accounts ofRead MoreLetter from Birmingham Jail, by Martin Luther King Jr. Essay938 Words   |  4 Pages Is it not ironic that Martin Luther King Jr. s, â€Å"Letter from Birmingham Jail†, which testifies to his struggle for Civil Rights; not only contradicts the time Martin Luther King wrote it in, but also echoes the same sentiments of today’s moral causes and laws? . Dr. King (*) then known as Baptist minister Martin Luther King Jr. wrote the Letter to Birmingham in response to his fellow clergymen’s criticisms of him being locked up for his actions in Birmingham’s Civil Rights protest. The letter’sRead MoreLetter From Birmingham Jail By Dr. Martin Luther King1510 Words   |  7 PagesLetter from Birmingham Jail was a letter written by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. from a solitary confinement cell in Birmingham, Alabama. Some portions of the letter were written and gradually smuggled out by King s lawyer on scraps of paper including, by some reports, rough jailhouse toilet paper. Violent racist terror against African Americans was so horrible in Bir mingham in the summer of 1963 that the city was being referred to by some locals as â€Å"Bombingham†. King had been arrested while participatingRead MoreDeclaration of Independence and Letter from Birmingham Jail Essay1102 Words   |  5 PagesThomas Jefferson and Martin Luther King Jr. are two American men who were key leaders during very controversial periods in U.S. history, and they were instrumental in movements that forever changed American society. Although their generations, cultures, backgrounds, and motives were quite different, their cause was relatively the same. It was a cause that stood against injustice, oppression, and sought the freedom of all men. Their beliefs and struggles were evident in their writings. Two of theRead MoreAn Analysis of Letter from a Birmingham Jail Essay1090 Words   |  5 Pages Letter from a Birmingham Jail was written by Doctor Martin Luther King Jr. in April of 1963, as he sat, as the title states, in a Birmingham, Alabama jail. King had been jailed for his participation in a peaceful protest of segregation in public places such as lunch counters and public restrooms (Berkley, 2003). While jailed, King read a criticism of the protest by a group of white ministers, who felt such demonstrations â€Å"directed and in part led by outsiders† were â€Å"unwise and untimely†Read MoreWhy Kings Letter from a Birmingham Jail Resounds throughout American History?926 Words   |  4 PagesTime: Why Kings Letter from Birmingham Jail Resounds Throughout American History Dr. Martin Luther Kings Letter from Birmingham Jail is a direct response to A Call for Unity, a letter penned by eight Alabama clergymen including one rabbi. In A Call for Unity, the eight clergymen decry the peaceful protests organized by Dr. King and his fellow civil rights activists. The clergymen claim that the protests are unwise and untimely. In his response written from jail, Dr. King outlines allRead MoreCivil Disobedience By Henry David Thoreaus Letter From A Birmingham Jail1605 Words   |  7 PagesThoreau and The Letter from a Birmingham Jail by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr and taking a closer look at their rhetorical devices and strategy’s. In Civil disobedience by Henry David Thoreau shows us the need to prioritize some one’s wellbeing over what the law says. American laws are criticized mostly over slavery and the Mexican-American war. In Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s â€Å"Letter from a Birmingham Jail† was written in response to a letter writt en by clergymen criticizing the actions of Dr. King and theRead MoreOutline And Objective Of A Persuasive Text1284 Words   |  6 Pageshave an empty picture. Evidence and reasoning are the two basic pieces of your persuasive letter. Without these, you’ll simply have a frame—your claim—without information to complete the argument. Explaining how things connect for your reader is one of the most important ways to strengthen your argument. Today s lesson objective is: Students will be able to develop an analysis using relevant evidence from texts to support claims, opinions, ideas, and inferences. When reading a persuasive textRead MoreRhetorical Analysis of Letter from Birmingham Jail Essay examples651 Words   |  3 Pagesthe â€Å"Letter from Birmingham Jail† (Jr., Letter from Birmingham Jail) written by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. the three artistic appeals of Aristotle are plainly apparent, especially logos. Dr. King repeatedly appeals to logos (Ruszkiewicz) throughout the entire piece; particularly when he says he was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist then gradually gained a matter of satisfaction from the label. He is very impassioned in his language and tone in this part of the letter, yet

Lamb The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal Chapter 23 Free Essays

string(46) " for the things he had learned from the Magi\." Part V Lamb I am light, now I fly, now I see myself beneath myself, now a god dances through me. FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE Chapter 23 We rode Vana north toward the Silk Road, skirting the great Indian desert that had almost killed Alexander the Great’s forces as they returned to Persia after conquering half of the known world, three centuries before. Although it would have saved a month to cut through the desert, Joshua was not confident about his ability to conjure enough water for Vana. We will write a custom essay sample on Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal Chapter 23 or any similar topic only for you Order Now A man should learn the lessons of history, and although I insisted that Alexander’s men had probably been tired from all that conquering, while Josh and I had basically been sitting around at the beach for two years, he insisted we take the less hostile route through Delhi, and north into what is now Pakistan until we joined the Silk Road once again. A little ways down the Silk Road I thought we received another message from Mary. We had stopped to have a short rest. When we resumed the journey, Vana happened to walk over where she had just done her business and the pile was pressed into the perfect likeness of a woman’s face, dark poo against the light gray dust. â€Å"Look, Josh, there’s another message from your mother.† Josh glanced and looked away. â€Å"That’s not my mother.† â€Å"But look, in the elephant poop, it’s a woman’s face.† â€Å"I know, but it’s not my mother. It’s distorted because of the medium. It doesn’t even look like her. Look at the eyes.† I had to climb to the back of the elephant to get another angle on it. He was right, it wasn’t his mother. â€Å"I guess you’re right. The medium obscured the message.† â€Å"That’s what I’m saying.† â€Å"I’ll bet it looks like someone’s mom, though.† With the detour around the desert, we were nearly two months getting to Kabul. Although Vana was an intrepid walker, as I have mentioned, she was a less than agile climber, so we often had to take long detours to get her through the mountains of Afghanistan. Josh and I both knew that we could not take her into the high, rocky desert once we passed Kabul, so we agreed to leave the elephant with Joy, if we could find the erstwhile courtesan. Once in Kabul we asked around the market for any news of a Chinese woman named Tiny Feet of the Divine Dance of Joyous Orgasm, but no one had heard of her, nor had they seen a woman simply named Joy. After a full day of searching, Joshua and I were about to abandon the search for our friend when I remembered something she had once said to me. I asked a local tea seller. â€Å"Is there a woman who lives around here, a very rich woman perhaps, who calls herself the Dragon Lady or something like that?† â€Å"Oh, yes sir,† the fellow said, and he shuddered as he spoke, as if a bug had run across his neck. â€Å"She is called the Cruel and Accursed Dragon Princess.† â€Å"Nice name,† I said to Joy as we rode through the massive stone gates into the courtyard of her palace. â€Å"A woman alone, it helps to have your reputation precede you,† said the Cruel and Accursed Dragon Princess. She looked almost exactly as she had almost nine years ago when we had left, except perhaps that she wore a little more jewelry. She was petite, and delicate, and beautiful. She wore a white silk robe embroidered with dragons and her blue-black hair hung down her back almost to her knees, held in place by a single silver band that just kept it from sweeping around her shoulders when she turned. â€Å"Nice elephant,† she added. â€Å"She’s a present,† Joshua said. â€Å"She’s lovely.† â€Å"Do you have a couple of camels you can spare, Joy?† I asked. â€Å"Oh, Biff, I had really hoped that you two would sleep with me tonight.† â€Å"Well, I’d love to, but Josh is still sworn off the muffin.† â€Å"Young men? I have a number of man-boys I keep around for, well, you know.† â€Å"Not those either,† Joshua said. â€Å"Oh Joshua, my poor little Messiah. I’ll bet no one made you Chinese food for your birthday this year either?† â€Å"We had rice,† Joshua said. â€Å"Well, we’ll see what the Accursed Dragon Princess can do to make up for that,† said Joy. We climbed down from the elephant and exchanged hugs with our old friend, then a stern guard in bronze chain mail led Vana away to the stables and four guards with spears flanked us as Joy led us into the main house. â€Å"A woman alone?† I said, looking at the guards that seemed to stand at every doorway. â€Å"In my heart, darling,† Joy said. â€Å"These aren’t friends, family, or lovers, these are employees.† â€Å"Is that the Accursed part of your new title?† Joshua said. â€Å"I could drop it, just be the Cruel Dragon Princess, if you two want to stay on.† â€Å"We can’t. We’ve been called home.† Joy nodded dolefully and led us into the library (filled with Balthasar’s old books), where coffee was served by young men and women who Joy had obviously brought from China. I thought of all the girls, my friends and my lovers, who had been killed by the demon so long ago, and swallowed my coffee around a lump in my throat. Joshua was as excited as I had seen him in a long time. It might have been the coffee. â€Å"You won’t believe the wonderful things I’ve learned since I left here, Joy. About being the agent of change (change is at the root of belief, you know), and about compassion for everyone because everyone is part of another, and most important, that there is a bit of God in each of us – in India they call it the Divine Spark.† He rambled on like that for an hour, and eventually my melancholy passed and I was infected by Joshua’s enthusiasm for the things he had learned from the Magi. You read "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal Chapter 23" in category "Essay examples" â€Å"Yes,† I added, â€Å"and Josh can climb inside a standard-size wine amphora. You have to bust him out with a hammer, but it’s interesting to watch.† â€Å"And you, Biff?† Joy asked, smiling into her cup. â€Å"Well, after supper I’ll show you a little something I like to call Water Buffalo Teasing the Seeds out of the Pomegranate.† â€Å"That sounds – â€Å" â€Å"Don’t worry, it’s not that hard to learn. I have pictures.† We were four days at Joy’s palace, enjoying comfort, food, and drink such as we hadn’t experienced since we’d last seen her. I could have stayed forever, but on the morning of the fifth day Joshua stood at the entrance to Joy’s bedchamber, his satchel slung over his shoulder. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. We shared breakfast with Joy and she met us at the gate to say good-bye. â€Å"Thanks for the elephant,† she said. â€Å"Thanks for the camels,† Joshua said. â€Å"Thanks for the sex book,† Joy said. â€Å"Thanks for the sex,† I said. â€Å"Oh, I forgot, you owe me a hundred rupees,† Joy said. I had told her about Kashmir. The Cruel and Accursed Dragon Princess grinned at me. â€Å"Just kidding. Be well, my friend. Keep that amulet I gave you and remember me, huh?† â€Å"Of course.† I kissed her and climbed on my camel’s back, then coaxed him to his feet. Joy embraced Joshua and kissed him on the lips, hard and long. He didn’t seem to be trying to push her away. â€Å"Hey, we had better go, Josh,† I said. Joy held the Messiah at arm’s length and said, â€Å"You are always welcome here, you know that?† Josh nodded, then climbed on his camel. â€Å"Go with God, Joy,† he said. As we rode through the gates of the palace the guards shot fire arrows that trailed long tails of sparks over us until they exploded above the road ahead: Joy’s last good-bye to us, a tribute to the friendship and arcane knowledge we had all shared. It scared the bejeezus out of the camels. After we had been on the road awhile, Joshua asked, â€Å"Did you say goodbye to Vana?† â€Å"I intended to, but when I went to the stable she was practicing her yoga and I didn’t want to disturb her.† â€Å"No kidding?† â€Å"Really, she was sitting in one of the postures you taught her.† Joshua smiled. It didn’t hurt anything for him to believe that. The journey on the Silk Road through the high deserts took us over a month, but it was fairly uneventful, except for one attack by a small group of bandits. When I caught the first two spears they flung at me and flung them right back, wounding the two who had thrown them, they turned and ran. The weather was mild, or as mild as one can expect in a deadly and brutal desert, but by now Joshua and I had traveled so much in this sort of harsh country that there was little that affected us. Just before we reached Antioch, however, a sandstorm whipped up out of the desert that left us hiding between our camels for two days, breathing through our shirts and washing the mud out of our mouths every time we took a drink. The storm settled enough to travel, and we were at a veritable gallop in the streets of Antioch when Joshua located an inn by impacting with its sign on his forehead. He was knocked back off his camel and sat up in the street with blood streaming down his face. â€Å"Are you hurt badly?† I asked, kneeling beside him. I could barely see in the driving dust. Joshua looked at the blood on his hands where he had touched his forehead. â€Å"I don’t know. It doesn’t hurt that badly, but I can’t tell.† â€Å"Inside,† I said, helping him to his feet and through the door of the inn. â€Å"Shut the door,† the innkeeper shouted as the wind whipped through the room. â€Å"Were you born in a barn?† â€Å"Yeah,† said Joshua. â€Å"He was,† I said. â€Å"Angels on the roof, though.† â€Å"Shut the damn door,† said the innkeeper. I left Joshua sitting there by the door while I went out and found shelter for the camels. When I returned Joshua was wiping his face with a linen cloth that someone had handed to him. A couple of men stood over him, eager to help. I handed the cloth to one of them and examined Josh’s wounds. â€Å"You’ll live. A big bump and two cuts, but you’ll live. You can’t do the healing thing on – â€Å" Joshua shook his head. â€Å"Hey, look at this,† one of the travelers who had helped Joshua said, holding up the piece of linen Joshua had used to wipe his face. The dust and blood from Josh’s face had left a perfect likeness on the linen, even handprints where he’d gotten blood from his head wound. â€Å"Can I keep this?† the fellow said. He was speaking Latin, but with a strange accent. â€Å"Sure,† I said. â€Å"Where are you fellahs from?† â€Å"We’re from the Ligurian tribe, from the territories north of Rome. A city on the Po river called Turin. Have you heard of it?† â€Å"No, I haven’t. You know, you fellahs can do what you want with that cloth, but out on my camel I’ve got some erotic drawings from the East that are going to be worth something someday. I can let you have them for a very fair price.† The Turinians went off holding their pathetic swath of muddy cloth like it was some kind of holy relic. Ignorant bastards wouldn’t know art if you nailed them to it. I bandaged Joshua’s wounds and we checked into the inn for the night. In the morning we decided to keep our camels and take the land route home through Damascus. As we passed out of the gates of Damascus on the final leg home, Joshua started to worry. â€Å"I’m not ready to be the Messiah, Biff. If I’m being called home to lead our people I don’t even know where to start. I understand the things I want to teach, but I don’t have the words yet. Melchior was right about that. Before anything you have to have the word.† â€Å"Well it’s not just going to come to you in a flash here on the Damascus road, Josh. That sort of thing doesn’t happen. You’re obviously supposed to learn what you need to know in its own time. To everything a season, yada, yada, yada†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"My father could have made learning all this easier. He could have just told me what I was supposed to do.† â€Å"I wonder how Maggie’s doing. You think she got fat?† â€Å"I’m trying to talk about God here, about the Divine Spark, about bringing the kingdom to our people.† â€Å"I know you are, so am I. Do you want to do all of that without help?† â€Å"I guess not.† â€Å"Well, that’s why I was thinking about Maggie. She was smarter than us before we left, she’s probably smarter than us now.† â€Å"She was smart, wasn’t she? She wanted to be a fisherman,† said Josh, grinning. I could tell that the thought of seeing Maggie tickled him. â€Å"You can’t tell her about all the whores, Josh.† â€Å"I won’t.† â€Å"Or Joy and the girls. Or the old woman with no teeth.† â€Å"I won’t tell her about any of them, not even the yak.† â€Å"There was nothing with the yak. The yak and I weren’t even on speaking terms.† â€Å"You know, she probably has a dozen children by now.† â€Å"I know.† I sighed. â€Å"They should be mine.† â€Å"And mine.† Joshua sighed back. I looked at him as he rode beside me in a sea of gently loping camel waves. He was staring off at the horizon, looking forlorn. â€Å"Yours and mine? You think they should be yours and mine?† â€Å"Sure, why not. You know I love all the little – â€Å" â€Å"You are such a doofus sometimes.† â€Å"Do you think she’ll remember us? I mean, how we all were back then?† I thought about it and shuddered. â€Å"I hope not.† No sooner did we pass into Galilee than we began to hear about what John the Baptist was doing in Judea. â€Å"Hundreds have followed him into the desert,† we heard in Gischala. â€Å"Some say he is the Messiah,† one man told us in Baca. â€Å"Herod is afraid of him,† said a woman in Cana. â€Å"He’s another crazy holy man,† said a Roman soldier in Sepphoris. â€Å"The Jews breed them like rabbits. I hear he drowns anyone who doesn’t agree with him. First sensible idea I’ve heard since I was sent to this accursed territory.† â€Å"May I have your name, soldier?† I asked. â€Å"Caius Junius, of the Sixth Legion.† â€Å"Thank you. We’ll keep you in mind.† To Josh I said, â€Å"Caius Junius: front of the line when we start shoving Romans out of the kingdom into the fiery abyss.† â€Å"What did you say?† said the Roman. â€Å"No, no, don’t thank me, you earned it. Right at the front of the line you go, Caius.† â€Å"Biff!† Josh barked, and once he had my attention he whispered, â€Å"Try not to get us thrown into prison before we get home, please.† I nodded and waved to the legionnaire as we rode away. â€Å"Just crazy Jew talk. Pay no attention. Whimper Fidelis,† I said. â€Å"We have to find John after we see our families,† Joshua said. â€Å"Do you think that he’s really claiming to be the Messiah?† â€Å"No, but it sounds like he knows how to get the word out.† We rode into Nazareth a half hour later. I suppose we expected more upon our arrival. Cheering maybe, little children running at our heels begging for tales of our great adventures, tears and laughter, kisses and hugs, strong shoulders to bear the conquering heroes through the streets. What we’d forgotten was that while we were traveling, having adventures, and experiencing wonders, the people of Nazareth had been living through the same old day-to-day crap – a lot of days had passed, and a lot of crap. When we rode up to Joshua’s old house, his brother James was working outside under the awning, shaving a piece of olive wood into a strut for a camel saddle. I knew it was James the moment I saw him. He had Joshua’s narrow hooked nose and wide eyes, but his face was more weathered than Josh’s, and his body heavier with muscle. He looked ten years older than Joshua rather than the two years younger that he was. He put down his spoke shave and stepped out in the sunlight, holding up a hand to shield his eyes. â€Å"Joshua?† Joshua tapped his camel on the back of his knees with the long riding crop and the beast lowered him to the ground. â€Å"James!† Joshua climbed off the camel and went to his brother, his arms out as if to embrace him, but James stepped back. â€Å"I’ll go tell Mother that her favorite son has returned.† James turned away and I saw the tears literally shoot out of Joshua’s eyes into the dust. â€Å"James,† Joshua was pleading. â€Å"I didn’t know. When?† James turned and looked his half brother in the eye. There was no pity there, no grief, just anger. â€Å"Two months ago, Joshua. Joseph died two months ago. He asked for you.† â€Å"I didn’t know,† Joshua said, still holding his arms out for the embrace that wasn’t going to come. â€Å"Go inside. Mother has been waiting for you. She starts every morning wondering if this is the day you’ll return. Go inside.† He turned away as Joshua went past him into the house, then James looked up at me. â€Å"The last thing he said was ‘Tell the bastard I love him.'† â€Å"The bastard?† I said as I coaxed my camel to let me down. â€Å"That’s what he always called Joshua. ‘I wonder how the bastard is doing. I wonder where the bastard is today?’ Always talking about the bastard. And Mother yammering on always about how Joshua did this, and Joshua did that, and what great things Joshua would do when he returned. And all the while I’m the one looking out for my brothers and sisters, taking care of them when Father got sick, taking care of my own family. Still, was there any thanks? A kind word? No, I was doing nothing more than paving Joshua’s road. You have no idea what it’s like to always be second to Joshua.† â€Å"Really,† I said. â€Å"You’ll have to tell me about that sometime,† I said. â€Å"Tell Josh if he needs me I’ll be at my father’s house. My father is still alive, isn’t he?† â€Å"Yes, and your mother too.† â€Å"Oh good, I didn’t want to put one of my brothers through breaking the painful news.† I turned and led my camel away. â€Å"Go with God, Levi,† James said. I turned. â€Å"James, it is written, ‘To the work you are entitled, but not the fruits thereof.'† â€Å"I’ve never heard that. Where is that written?† â€Å"In the Bhagavad Gita, James. It’s a long poem about going into battle, and this warrior’s god tells him not to worry about killing his kinsmen in battle, because they are already dead, they just don’t know it yet. I don’t know what made me think of it.† My father hugged me until I thought he’d broken my ribs, then he handed me off to my mother, who did the same until she seemed to come to her senses, then she began to cuff me about the head and shoulders with her sandal, which she had whipped off with surprising speed and dexterity for a woman her age. â€Å"Seventeen years you’re gone and you couldn’t write?† â€Å"You don’t know how to read.† â€Å"So you couldn’t send word, smart mouth?† I fended off the blows by directing their energy away from me, as I had been taught at the monastery, and soon two small boys who I didn’t recognize were catching the brunt of the beating. Fearing lawsuits from small strangers, I caught my mother’s arms and hugged them to her sides as I looked at my father, nodded to the two little ones, and raised my eyebrows as if to say, Who are the squirts? â€Å"Those are your brothers, Moses and Japeth,† my father said. â€Å"Moses is six and Japeth is five.† The little guys grinned. Both were missing front teeth, probably sacrificed to the squirming harpy I was currently holding at bay. My father beamed as if to say, I can still build the aqueduct – lay a little pipe, if you know what I mean – when I need to. I scowled as if to say, Look, I was barely able to hold on to my respect for you when I found out what you did to make the first three of us; these little fellows are only evidence that you’ve no memory for suffering. â€Å"Mother, if I let you go will you calm down?† I looked over her shoulder at Japeth and Moses. â€Å"I used to tell people she was besought by a demon, do you guys do that?† I winked at them. They giggled as if to say, Please, end our suffering, kill us, kill us now, or kill this bitch that plagues us like the torments of Job. Okay, maybe I was just imagining that’s what they were saying. Maybe they were just giggling. I let my mother go and she backed off. â€Å"Japeth, Moses,† Mother said, â€Å"come meet Biff. You’ve heard your father and me talk about our oldest disappointment – well, this is him. Now run and get your other brothers, I’ll go fix something nice.† My brothers Shem and Lucius brought their families and joined us for dinner and we all lay around the table as Mother served us something nice, I’m not sure what it was. (I know I’ve said that I was the oldest of three brothers, and obviously, with the squirts, it was five, but dammit, by the time I met Japeth and Moses I was too old to have the time to torment them, so they never really paid their dues as brothers. They were more like, oh, pets.) â€Å"Mother, I’ve brought you a gift from the East,† I said, running out to the camel to retrieve a package. â€Å"What is it?† â€Å"It’s a breeding mongoose,† I said, tapping on the cage. The little scamp tried to bite the pad off of my finger. â€Å"But there’s only one.† â€Å"Well, there were two, but one escaped, so now there’s one. They’ll attack a snake ten times their size.† â€Å"It looks like a rat.† I lowered my voice and whispered conspiratorially, â€Å"In India, the women train them to sit on their heads like hats. Very fashionable. Of course the fad hasn’t reached Galilee yet, but in Antioch, no self-respecting woman will go out of the house without wearing a mongoose.† â€Å"Really,† said Mother, looking at the mongoose in a new light. She took the cage and stowed it gently away in the corner, as if it contained a delicate egg, rather than a vicious miniature of herself. â€Å"So,† said Mother, waving to her two daughters-in-law and the half-dozen grandchildren that loitered near the table, â€Å"your brothers married and gave me grandchildren.† â€Å"I’m happy for them, Mother.† Shem and Lucius hid their grins behind a crust of flatbread the same way they did when we were little and Mother was giving me hell. â€Å"All the places you traveled, you never met a nice girl you could settle down with?† â€Å"No, Mother.† â€Å"You can marry a gentile, you know. It would break my heart, but why did the tribes almost wipe out the Benjamites if it wasn’t so a desperate boy could marry a gentile if he needs to? Not a Samaritan, but, you know, some other gentile. If you have to.† â€Å"Thanks, Mother, I’ll keep that in mind.† Mother pretended to find some lint or something on my collar, which she picked at while she said, â€Å"So your friend Joshua never married either? You heard about his little sister Miriam, didn’t you?† Here her voice went to a conspiratorial whisper. â€Å"Started wearing men’s clothes and ran off to the island of Lesbos.† Back to normal nudging tone. â€Å"That’s Greek, you know? You boys didn’t go to Greece on your travels, did you?† â€Å"No, Mother, I really have to go.† I tried to stand and she grabbed me. â€Å"It’s because your father has a Greek name, isn’t it? I told you, Alphaeus, change the name, but you said you were proud of it. Well, I hope you’re proud of it now. What’s next, Lucius here will start hanging Jews on crosses like the other Romans?† â€Å"I’m not a Roman, Mother,† Lucius said wearily. â€Å"Lots of good Jews have Latin names.† â€Å"Not that it matters, Mother, but how do you think they get more Greeks?† To my mother’s credit, she stopped for a second to think. I used the lull to escape. â€Å"Nice to see you guys.† I nodded to all of my relatives, old and new. â€Å"I’ll come by and visit before I go. I have to go check on Joshua.† And I was out the door. I threw the door open at Joshua’s old house without even knocking, nearly coldcocking Joshua’s brother Judah in the process. â€Å"Josh, you’ve got to bring the kingdom soon or I’m going to have to kill my mother.† â€Å"She still plagued by demons?† asked Judah, who looked exactly as he had when he was four, except for the beard and the receding hairline, but he was as wide-eyed and goofy of smile as he had ever been. â€Å"No, I was just being hopeful when I used to say that.† â€Å"Will you join us for supper?† said Mary. Thank God she had aged: gone a little thicker around the hips and waist, developed some lines at the corner of her eyes and mouth. Now she was just the second or third most beautiful creature on earth. â€Å"Love to,† I said. James must have been home with his wife and children, as I guessed were the other sisters and brothers, except for Miriam, and I’d already been apprised of her whereabouts. At the table it was only Mary, Joshua, Judah, his pretty wife, Ruth, and two little redheaded girls that looked like their mother. I expressed my condolences for the family’s loss, and Joshua filled me in on the timing of events. About the time that I spotted Mary’s portrait on the temple wall in Nicobar, Joseph had taken ill with some disease of the water. He started peeing blood, and in a week he was bedridden. He lingered only a week longer before he died. He’d been buried for two months now. I looked at Joshua as Mary related this part of the story and he shook his head, meaning, too long in the grave, there’s nothing I can do. Mary had known nothing about a message calling us home. â€Å"Even if you two had only been in Damascus you’d have been lucky to get here in time. He went so fast.† She was strong, had recovered somewhat from the loss, but Joshua appeared to still be in shock. â€Å"You have to go find Joshua’s cousin John,† Mary said. â€Å"He’s been preaching about the coming of the kingdom, of preparing the way for the Messiah.† â€Å"We’ve heard,† I said. â€Å"I’ll stay here with you, Mother,† Joshua said. â€Å"James is right, I have responsibilities. I’ve shirked them too long.† Mary touched her son’s face and looked in his eyes. â€Å"You will leave in the morning and you will find John the Baptist in Judea and you will do what God has ordained you do since he placed you in my womb. Your responsibilities are not to a bitter brother or an old woman.† Joshua looked at me. â€Å"Can you leave in the morning? I know it’s soon after being gone so long.† â€Å"Actually, I thought I’d stay, Josh. Your mother needs someone to look after her, and she’s still a relatively attractive woman. I mean, a guy could do worse.† Judah aspirated an olive pit and began coughing furiously until Joshua pounded him on the back and the pit shot across the room, leaving Judah gasping and staring at me through watery red eyes. I put my hand on Joshua and Judah’s shoulders. â€Å"I think I can learn to love you both as sons.† I looked at the pretty but shy Ruth, who was tending the little girls. â€Å"And you, Ruth, I hope that you can learn to love me as a slightly older, but incredibly attractive close uncle. And you, Mary – â€Å" â€Å"Will you go with Joshua to Judea, Biff?† Mary interrupted. â€Å"Sure, first thing in the morning.† Joshua and Judah were still staring at me as if they’d both been smacked in the face with a large fish. â€Å"What?† I said. â€Å"How long have you guys known me? Jeez. Grow a sense of humor.† â€Å"Our father died,† said Joshua. â€Å"Yeah, but not today,† I said. â€Å"I’ll meet you here in the morning.† The next morning, as we rode through the square, we passed Bartholomew, the village idiot, who looked no worse or less filthy for the years gone by, and who seemed to have come to some sort of understanding with his doggy friends. Instead of jumping all over him as they always had, now they sat quietly before him in a group, as if listening to a sermon. â€Å"Where have you been?† Bart called to us. â€Å"In the East.† â€Å"Why did you go there?† â€Å"We were looking for the Divine Spark,† Joshua said. â€Å"But we didn’t know that when we left.† â€Å"Where are you going?† â€Å"To Judea, to find John the Baptist.† â€Å"He should be easier to find than the Spark. Can I come?† â€Å"Sure,† I said. â€Å"Bring your things.† â€Å"I don’t have any things.† â€Å"Then bring your stench.† â€Å"That will follow on its own,† Bartholomew said. And thus we became three. How to cite Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal Chapter 23, Essay examples

Philosophy - Hume Essays - Miracles, Of Miracles, Noah In Islam

Philosophy - Hume In explaining Hume's critique of the belief in miracles, we must first understand the definition of a miracle. The Webster Dictionary defines a miracle as: a supernatural event regarded as to define action, one of the acts worked by Christ which revealed his divinity an extremely remarkable achievement or event, an unexpected piece of luck. Therefore, a miracle is based on one's perception of past experiences, what everyone sees. It is based on a individuals own reality, and the faith in which he/she believes in, it is based on interior events such as what we are taught, and exterior events, such as what we hear or see first hand. When studying Hume's view of a miracle, he interprets or defines a miracle as such; a miracle is a violation of the laws of nature, an event which is not normal to most of mankind. Hume explains this point brilliantly when he states, ?Nothing is esteemed a miracle, if it has ever happened in the common course of nature. It is no miracle that a man seemingly in good health should die on a sudden.? (Hume p.888) Hume states that this death is quite unusual, however it seemed to happen naturally. He could only define it as a true miracle if this dead man were to come back to life. This would be a miraculous event because such an experience has not yet been commonly observed. In which case, his philosophical view of a miracle would be true. Hume critiques and discredits the belief in a miracle merely because it goes against the laws of nature. Hume defines the laws of nature to be what has been ?uniformly? observed by mankind, such as the laws of identity and gravity. He views society as being far to liberal in what they consider to be a miracle. He gives the reader four ideas to support his philosophy in defining a true miracle, or the belief in a miracle. These points leads us to believe that there has never been a miraculous event established. Hume's first reason in contradicting a miracle is, in all of history there has not been a miraculous event with a sufficient number of witnesses. He questions the integrity of the men and the reputation in which they hold in society. If their reputation holds great integrity, then and only then can we have full assurance in the testimony of men. Hume is constantly asking throughout the passage questions to support proof for a miracle. He asks questions such as this; Who is qualified? Who has the authority to say who qualifies? As he asks these questions we can see there are no real answers, in which case, it tends to break the validity of the witnesses to the miracle. Hume's second reason in contradicting the validity of a miracle is that he views all of our beliefs, or what we choose to accept, or not accept through past experience and what history dictates to us. Furthermore, he tends to discredit an individual by playing on a human beings consciousness or sense of reality. An example is; using words such as, the individuals need for ?excitement? and ?wonder? arising from miracles. Even the individual who can not enjoy the pleasure immediately will still believe in a miracle, regardless of the possible validity of the miracle. With this, it leads the individual to feel a sense of belonging and a sense of pride. These individuals tend to be the followers within society. These individuals will tend to believe faster than the leaders in the society. With no regard to the miracles validity, whether it is true or false, or second hand information. Miracles lead to such strong temptations, that we as individuals tend to lose sense of our own belief of fantasy and reality. As individuals we tend to believe to find attention, and to gossip of the unknown. Through emotions and behavior Hume tends to believe there has been many forged miracles, regardless if the information is somewhat valid or not. His third reason in discrediting the belief in a miracle is testimony versus reality. Hume states, ?It forms a strong presumption against all supernatural and miraculous events, that they are observed chiefly