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Effect of pollution on the environment
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A Story in Technicolor
Standing waist-deep in saw grass, a flawless graysky framing an unrealscene where river and reeds become indistinguishable,Karen gazed unimpressed. The sublime natureof this ecological experience bordering so unbelievably close to herown urban existence did not seep into her mind or psyche. Perhaps the seven applications of gel she had put on her hair that morning in order to prevent as much frizziness as possible was impeding the correct reaction, but that's not likely. Much more probable is the inference that Karen was not an outdoors type of person, in fact, only the most serenely beautiful sunsets ever tempted her to hike outside, and the Everglades with its apparently monotonous landscape was not making even a dent of an impression. Not to mention that it was raining, ruthlessly pouring down on her and the rest of her class, making her gel effort of the morning practically useless.
She wasn't even really standing in the saw grass; it felt more like she was imperceptibly sinking into the mucky bottom. Sure, she might imagine that she could move around on the spongy surface but, in truth, she knew that if she remained immobile for more than a minute, the earth would commence to slowly swallow her, drowning her inch by inch. She moved around uncomfortably. Always acutely aware of her lack of balance, ever since a ballet teacher had pointed it out to her, Karen now felt as if her woman-child inadequacies were on full display. Her eyes darted sloppily around to see if anyone noticed her ineptitude in the new terrain and quickly looked down as she realized they were all too enthralled in their own conversations and eloquated experiences of nature to pay any mind to her.
"Isn't this great?", she heard one girl say.
"I can't believe all of this is so close to where I live and I'd never been here before. There really should be more educational awareness programs. I wonder why I was never taken on a field trip to the Everglades? Wouldn't it be challenging if our school became involved with primary schools to…", whether this curly-haired speaker went on a diatribe in response to the first girl's remark or simply for the sake of talking was beyond Karen. She lost interest rather quickly in their conversation and rather unstealthfully moved away from them, refusing to hear the rest of the genuinely exciting questions and remarks.
To begin with, is vital to understand the history of co-occurring disorders. Late in 1970s mental health providers started noticing that their clients commonly had mental illnesses and a substance use disorder. Then, “by the 1990s, substance abuse treatment programs typically reported that 50 to 75 percent of clients had co-occurring mental disorders, while clinicians in mental health settings reported that between 20 to 50 percent of their clients had a co-occurring substance use disorder” (SAMHSA, 2005). That being said, one needs to understand that co-occurring disorders affect people from different walks of life, cultures, socioeconomic status, and racial backgrounds. Furthermore, is important to keep in mind that many of the cases that were reported and diagnosed in the past and present are not an accura...
The speaker in “Five A.M.” looks to nature as a source of beauty during his early morning walk, and after clearing his mind and processing his thoughts along the journey, he begins his return home feeling as though he is ready to begin the “uphill curve” (ln. 14) in order to process his daily struggles. However, while the speaker in “Five Flights Up,” shares the same struggles as her fellow speaker, she does little to involve herself in nature other than to observe it from the safety of her place of residence. Although suffering as a result of her struggles, the speaker does little to want to help herself out of her situation, instead choosing to believe that she cannot hardly bare recovery or to lift the shroud of night that has fallen over her. Both speakers face a journey ahead of them whether it be “the uphill curve where a thicket spills with birds every spring” (ln. 14-15) or the five flights of stares ahead of them, yet it is in their attitude where these two individuals differ. Through the appreciation of his early morning surroundings, the speaker in “Five A.M.” finds solitude and self-fulfillment, whereas the speaker in “Five Flights Up” has still failed to realize her own role in that of her recovery from this dark time in her life and how nature can serve a beneficial role in relieving her of her
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
Technicolor created America’s first motion picture process in 1916. Exactly a century later, it’s introducing a hub for augmented and virtual reality.
We live in a very diverse society, observance of the rule of law is the best way that can guarantee that our basic human rights are preserved, successful government at home is operating and a fair progress on the international level is maintained. Basic principles of the rule of law go back to Dicey’s theory, which states that there should be an absolute supremacy of regular law, no one should be above the law and that the Constitution is the result of the ordinary law of land. There is no clear meaning of the rule of law; therefore it is essential that the government maintains the basic principles of the rule of law that were established by the philosophers who feared the concentration of power in one’s hands, on order to prevent tyranny. Rule of Law cannot exist without a transparent legal system, the main components of which are a clear set of laws that are freely and easily accessible to all, strong enforcement structures, and an independent judiciary to protect citizens against the arbitrary use of power by the state, individuals or any other organisation. Only if each branch has influence and retraining functions on each other, can the parliamentary machine function properly and give the effect of the rule of law without imposing any tyrannical or arbitrary power by a specific institution, which would infringe the main principles of the rule of law. The issue would arise if there would be very weak separation of powers with a strong concept of parliamentary sovereignty at the same time. The power of judicial review ensures that officials act within the scope of their legal powers and that individuals have an effective way of obtaining remedies if their rights were violated. Although UK is said to have an efficient system of...
When I found myself on my Feet, I looked about me, and must confess I never beheld a more entertaining Prospect. The Country round appeared like a continued Garden, and the inclosed Fields, which were generally Forty Foot square, resembled so many Beds of flowers. These Fields were intermingled with Woods of half a Stang, and the tallest Trees, as I could judge, appeared to be seven Foot high. I viewed the Town on my left Hand, which looked like the painted Scene of a City in a Theatre.
The drive to cross the Kentucky border had taken hours and hours of strenuous patience to finally arrive in another state. The view was by far country like as hints of cow manure could be smelled far from a distance. We drive through small towns, half the size of our hometown of Glen Ellyn had been the biggest town we've seen if not smaller. The scenery had overwhelmed us, as lumps of Earth from a great distance turned to perfectly molded hills, but as we got closer and closer to our destination the hills no longer were hills anymore, instead the hills had transformed to massive mountains of various sizes. These mountains surrounded our every view as if we had sunken into a great big deep hole of green pastures. Our path of direction was seen, as the trails of our road that had followed for numerous hours ended up winding up the mountainous mountains in a corkscrew dizzy-like matter.
The rain cried as if the heavens had torn apart and came down to Earth to show its sorrow, beating a gentle yet violent tattoo on the roof. The cool breeze blew fiercely through the shelter sending a shiver down Liesel’s spine, awakening her from her slumber. She peered through the rotten sheet of linen that barely covered her shrivelled, thin body as the sound of little feet and nibbling rustled through her ears. Not of the children, but of mice, eating their way through her pillow; an empty potato bag. She heaved herself up, and staggered off the cement floor, wondering if it was wet or stone cold. Her head spun as she stood for a minute leaning against the mouldy walls to get her orientation back.
Canada, H. (2009, December 16). Best Practices- Concurrent Mental Health and Substance Use Disorders. Retrieved from Intergrated Treatment: www.hc-sc.gc.ca
The silhouettes of blossoms are menacing shadows against the luminous falls. I tiptoe further down the twisting vine of pale red blooms emerging, unfurling their rosy petals to the fluorescent streaks of lightening that extend their crooked arms through the sky and down into the swamp’s abyss. The brisk breeze carries scents of moss and mist. The magnificent falls tower above my head, breaking through the clouds, stretching up into space, like a daylily reaching up to swallow the sun. Water surges to the ground, crashing, the sodden earth crumbling away in its presence. An overwhelming sound of water rushing, as though it is a massive radio set malfunctioning, penetrates my ears. I slink through the canopy of vines, slithering, watching intensely,
The contrast between the mental health and substance abuse systems regarding convictions, preparing, conduct, and belief system posture critical boundaries to the viable treatment of co-occurring patients. Mental health regularly has been contended that substance abuse issues are side effects of more deep mental trouble and that when those different issues are legitimately treated, substance abuse problems will decrease or die down. The existence of substance abuse issues and mental health disorders are associated with adverse outcomes of treatment including a decrease in emotional functioning, increased amount of time in treatment, increased depreciation regarding care, increased inpatient stays, and an increase in medical illness from both mental health and substance abuse (Wüsthoff, Waal, & Gråwe, 2014). This conceptualization fortifies a progression in which substance abuse issue and their treatment at times, is viewed as less real and less meriting consideration and assets. In the meantime, the substance abuse treatment field every now and again is belief system driven, and its conflicts with the emotional wellness field on fitting finding and treatment regularly have been
Technicolor Life was written by Jami Brandli and directed by Joseph W. Ritsch. Rep Stage Theater Company performed it in Smith Theater at Howard Community College. Technicolor Life ran from October 21 to November 8. I attended the October 29 performance. The overall production of this play was engaging, exciting and emotionally moving. The basic plot is the life of a smart young girl, Maxine, as her older sister, Billie returns from a deployment in Iraq and as her grandmother becomes ill. Maxine learns some valuable lessons through a series of tense and touching moments with her family.
I slowly trudged up the road towards the farm. The country road was dusty, and quiet except for the occasional passing vehicle. Only the clear, burbling sound of a wren’s birdsong sporadically broke the boredom. A faded sign flapped lethargically against the gate. On it, a big black and white cow stood over the words “Bent Rail Farm”. The sign needed fresh paint, and one of its hinges was broken. Suddenly, the distant roar of an engine shattered the stillness of that Friday afternoon. Big tires speeding over gravel pelted small stones in all directions. The truck stopped in front of the red-brick farmhouse with the green door and shutters. It was the large milking truck that stopped by every Friday afternoon. I leisurely passed by fields of corn, wheat, barley, and strawberries. The fields stretched from the gradient hills to the snowy mountains. The blasting wind blew like a bellowing blizzard. A river cut through the hilly panorama. The river ubiquitously flowed from tranquil to tempestuous water. Raging river rapids rushed recklessly into rocks ricocheting and rebounding relentlessly through this rigorous river. Leaves danced with the wind as I looked around the valley. The sun was trapped by smoky, and soggy clouds.
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.