The Masque Of The Red Death Essay - 1572 Words

Edgar Allen Poe was an American poet and short story writer, who specialized in the genres of horror and gothic writing. Poe’s work became so influential that he is â€Å"†¦credited with refining the short story form and inventing the modern detective story† (Slova ). In eighteen forty, Poe released one of his more well-known gothic short stories, â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death.† In â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death† Poe relies heavily upon the use literary devices such as allegories, symbolism, and narration to convey his overall theme of how death and mortality are inevitable. Poe was considered to have completely mastered the art of Gothic writing. It is believed by many that his inspiration came from the unfortunate events of his life (Miline, 233). At a very young age Poe’s father left, leaving the family in a financially difficult situation. Poe’s mother took up extra acting jobs to support her three children, even though she was ill with tuberculosis; this would eventually be the cause of her death (Slova, ). Unfortunately, Poe’s mother was not the only person lost to by tuberculosis. The disease would go on to killed his brother, William Henry Leonard, and his Cousin/Wife, Virginia Clemm. It would not be a far stretch to say that Poe was most likely â€Å"inspired in some ways† by his personal experience with Tuberculosis while writing the â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death† (Miline, 238). â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death† tells a story about a time during a terrible plague, referred to as â€Å"TheShow MoreRelatedThe Masque Of The Red Death1093 Words   |  5 PagesThe Masque of Allegory Many writers of literature incorporate symbolic references in their works throughout history and today. One romantic poet and storywriter in particular is excellent in the use of allegory in his poems and stories. This unique writer’s name is Edgar Allan Poe and his tale â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death† is one of his most well known pieces of allegoric writing. Although there are numerous symbols in this story, the seven rooms and the fact that death is inevitable are the twoRead MoreThe Masque Of The Red Death1592 Words   |  7 Pagesexcellent example of this struggle in his short story â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death†. While a deadly plague is ravaging his country, a prosperous prince, quite appropriately named Prospero, takes a thousand of his fellow elites into seclusion at an abbey, where he later holds an elaborate masquerade. It is then towards the end of this masque, held in an imperial suite of brilliantly colored but bizarre rooms, that the plague , known as the ‘Red Death’, finally makes its way into the abbey, inevitably killingRead MoreThe Masque of the Red Death2065 Words   |  9 Pagesall up. But before she died she gasped out .’Any excuse will serve a tyrant.’ I chose THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH by Edgar Allen Poe as my short story. The theme that I selected from that story is Mortality. Thesis Statement on Mortality: Even though fear of the unknown is scary, should mortality actually be something we fear? Death effects everyone the same. It ends life for all equally and death is life’s only certainty. Some of the literary elements Edgar Allen Poe uses in this storyRead MoreThe Masque of the Red Death914 Words   |  4 Pagesâ€Å"The Masque of the Red Death† by Edgar Allen Poe is an eerie short story about the â€Å"Red Death†, Poe’s twist on the Black Plague. This plague swept across an unknown kingdom killing many people as it went. There were sharp pain, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. Poe had two main themes for readers to think about. These themes were proven through five main symbols: The ebony clock in the black room, Prince Prospero in the abbey with his friends, the colorsRead MoreThe Masque Of The Red Death1788 Words   |  8 PagesDeath is inevitable in the human life cycle, so how does one attempt to avoid it? Symbolism is defined as the use of symbols to represent ideas or qualities. Edgar Allan Poe wrote a short story called, â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death.† The majority of people believe he is referring to the black plague that has struck the kingdom. Prince Prospero decides to let the kingdom â€Å"peasants† take care of themselves while himself, knights, and chosen women isolate themselves in Prospero’s castle. A little whileRead More The Masque of the Red Death879 Words   |  4 Pages â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death† is an extraordinary story of many elements that can grasp any readers attention. This story targets more of the emotions and actions of the characters, creating more of a fathom. Edgar Allan Poe wrote this story from his own perspective and perhaps succeeded in getting the reader to some what relate to the characters focusing on the feelings. The point of view Poe wrote this in makes a clear understanding. The point of view Edgar wrote this in is very effectiveRead MoreThe Masque Of The Red Death1679 Words   |  7 Pages Power in â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death† â€Å"Frail humanity can never escape the ravages of time†. Humans are born and will eventually die; it’s the cycle of life. No one can prevent death, but it does not stop people from trying to prolong life. Fate is inevitably predetermined; death is our predetermined fate. In the allegory â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death†, written by Edgar Allan Poe in 1842, Poe teaches that death is predestined and that you cannot avoid fate. Poe focuses in on an unusual characterRead More Conflict in The Masque of the Red Death920 Words   |  4 Pages Conflicts affect the mood of the main characters in a story, by expressing the insecurities, Death,† a couple of conflicts are exposed throughout the piece. In the story â€Å"The Masque of the Red,† a couple of conflicts are expressed throughout this piece. The conflicts man versus fate and man versus himself are the conflicts that are displayed several times within this story. From major conflicts to minor conflicts, this story clarifies the problems that Prince Prospero faces within himselfRead MoreSymbolism In The Masque Of The Red Death708 Words   |  3 PagesDeath is something everyone frets on a daily basis. Edgar Allan Poe stresses how death is an unavoidable reality in his short story â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death†. Prince Prospero, a lying, cowardly, untrustworthy leader pretends to be helping his town as people are suddenly dying off from the Red Death, when he is actually just protecting himself and leaving his town helpless. This story is shown through the use of many symbols and events. Ultimately Poe utilizes symbolism in order to convey theRead MoreThe Masque Of The Red Death Analysis1117 Words   |  5 Pageshorrorerous descriptions. In â€Å"The Masque of the Red Death ¨, Edgar Allan Poe uses symbolism to portray the mood of death and despair with imagery though his descriptions of time, fear, and obliteration to develop the theme of the story . This is more than just a simple horror narrative. Throughout the story, the Masque of the  ¨Red Death ¨ corresponds with the uses of symbolism to portray the mood of death and despair. To break the title apart, the key image of the  ¨Masque ¨ implies a historic view of a

Typhoid Mary, Who Spread Typhoid in Early 1900s

Mary Mallon (September 23, 1869–November 11, 1938), known as Typhoid Mary, was the cause of several typhoid outbreaks. Since Mary was the first healthy carrier of typhoid fever recognized in the United States, she did not understand how someone not sick could spread disease—so she tried to fight back. Fast Facts: Mary Mallon ('Typhoid Mary') Known For: Unknowing (and knowing) carrier of typhoid feverBorn: September 23, 1869 in Cookstown, IrelandParents: John and Catherine Igo MallonDied: November 11, 1938 in the Riverside Hospital, North Brother Island, BronxEducation: UnknownSpouse: NoneChildren: None Early Life Mary Mallon was born on September 23, 1869, in Cookstown, Ireland; her parents were John and Catherine Igo Mallon, but other than that, little is known of her life. According to what she told friends, Mallon emigrated to America in 1883, around the age of 15, living with an aunt and uncle. Like most Irish immigrant women, Mallon found a job as a domestic servant. Finding she had a talent for cooking, Mallon became a cook, which paid better wages than many other domestic service positions. Cook for the Summer Vacation For the summer of 1906, New York banker Charles Henry Warren wanted to take his family on vacation. They rented a summer home from George Thompson and his wife in Oyster Bay, Long Island. The Warrens hired Mary Mallon to be their cook for the summer. On August 27, one of the Warrens daughters became ill with typhoid fever. Soon, Mrs. Warren and two maids became ill as well, followed by the gardener and another Warren daughter. In total, six of the 11 people in the house came down with typhoid. Since the common way typhoid spread was through water or food sources, the owners of the home feared they would not be able to rent the property again without first discovering the source of the outbreak. The Thompsons first hired investigators to find the cause, but they were unsuccessful. George Soper, Investigator The Thompsons then hired George Soper, a civil engineer with experience in typhoid fever outbreaks. It was Soper who believed the recently hired cook, Mary Mallon, was the cause. Mallon had left the Warren house approximately three weeks after the outbreak. Soper began to research her employment history for more clues. Soper was able to trace Mallons employment history back to 1900. He found that typhoid outbreaks had followed Mallon from job to job. From 1900 to 1907, Soper found that Mallon had worked at seven jobs in which 22 people had become ill, including one young girl who died with typhoid fever shortly after Mallon had come to work for them. Soper was satisfied that this was much more than a coincidence; yet, he needed stool and blood samples from Mallon to scientifically prove she was the carrier. Capture  of Typhoid Mary In March 1907, Soper found Mallon working as a cook in the home of Walter Bowen and his family. To get samples from Mallon, he approached her at her place of work.   I had my first talk with Mary in the kitchen of this house. ... I was as diplomatic as possible, but I had to say I suspected her of making people sick and that I wanted specimens of her urine, feces and blood. It did not take Mary long to react to this suggestion. She seized a carving fork and advanced in my direction. I passed rapidly down the long narrow hall, through the tall iron gate, ... and so to the sidewalk. I felt rather lucky to escape. This violent reaction from Mallon did not stop Soper; he proceeded to track  Mallon to her home. This time, he brought an assistant (Dr. Bert Raymond Hoobler) for support. Again, Mallon became enraged, made clear they were unwelcome and shouted expletives at them as they made a hurried departure. Realizing it was going to take more persuasiveness than he was able to offer, Soper handed his research and hypothesis over to Hermann Biggs at the New York City Health Department. Biggs agreed with Sopers hypothesis. Biggs sent Dr. S. Josephine Baker to talk to Mallon. Mallon, now extremely suspicious of these health officials, refused to listen to Baker, who then returned with the aid of five police officers and an ambulance. Mallon was prepared this time. Baker describes the scene: Mary was on the lookout and peered out, a long kitchen fork in her hand like a rapier. As she lunged at me with the fork, I stepped back, recoiled on the policeman and so confused matters that, by the time we got through the door, Mary had disappeared. Disappear is too matter-of-fact a word; she had completely vanished. Baker and the police searched the house. Eventually, footprints were spotted leading from the house to a chair placed next to a fence. Over the fence was a neighbors property. They spent five hours searching both properties, until, finally, they found a tiny scrap of blue calico caught in the door of the area way closet under the high outside stairway leading to the front door. Baker describes the emergence of Mallon from the closet: She came out fighting and swearing, both of which she could do with appalling efficiency and vigor. I made another effort to talk to her sensibly and asked her again to let me have the specimens, but it was of no use. By that time she was convinced that the law was wantonly persecuting her, when she had done nothing wrong. She knew she had never had typhoid fever; she was maniacal in her integrity. There was nothing I could do but take her with us. The policemen lifted her into the ambulance and I literally sat on her all the way to the hospital; it was like being in a cage with an angry lion. Mallon was taken to the Willard Parker Hospital in New York. There, samples were taken and examined; typhoid bacilli was found in her stool. The health department then transferred Mallon to an isolated cottage (part of the Riverside Hospital) on North Brother Island (in the East River near the Bronx). Can the Government Do This? Mary Mallon was taken by force and against her will and was held without a trial. She had not broken any laws. So how could the government lock her up in isolation indefinitely? Thats not easy to answer. The health officials were basing their power on sections 1169 and 1170 of the Greater New York Charter: The board of health shall use all reasonable means for ascertaining the existence and cause of disease or peril to life or health, and for averting the same, throughout the city. [Section 1169] Said board may remove or cause to be removed to [a] proper place to be by it designated, any person sick with any contagious, pestilential or infectious disease; shall have exclusive charge and control of the hospitals for the treatment of such cases. [Section 1170] This charter was written before anyone knew of healthy carriers—people who seemed healthy but carried a contagious form of a disease that could infect others. Health officials believed healthy carriers to be more dangerous than those sick with the disease because there is no way to visually identify a healthy carrier in order to avoid them. But to many, locking up a healthy person seemed wrong. Isolated on North Brother Island Mary Mallon herself believed she was being unfairly persecuted. She could not understand how she could have spread disease and caused a death when she, herself, seemed healthy. I never had typhoid in my life, and have always been healthy. Why should I be banished like a leper and compelled to live in solitary confinement with only a dog for a companion? In 1909, after having been isolated for two years on North Brother Island, Mallon sued the health department. During Mallons confinement, health officials had taken and analyzed stool samples from Mallon approximately once a week. The samples came back intermittently positive for typhoid, but mostly positive (120 of 163 samples tested positive).   For nearly a year preceding the trial, Mallon also sent samples of her stool to a private lab where all her samples tested negative for typhoid. Feeling healthy and with her own lab results, Mallon believed she was being held unfairly.   This contention that I am a perpetual menace in the spread of typhoid germs is not true. My own doctors say I have no typhoid germs. I am an innocent human being. I have committed no crime and I am treated like an outcast—a criminal. It is unjust, outrageous, uncivilized. It seems incredible that in a Christian community a defenseless woman can be treated in this manner. Mallon did not understand a lot about typhoid fever and, unfortunately, no one tried to explain it to her. Not all people have a strong bout of typhoid fever; some people can have such a weak case that they only experience flu-like symptoms. Thus, Mallon could have had typhoid fever but never known it. Though commonly known at the time that typhoid could be spread by water or food products, people who are infected by the typhoid bacillus could also pass the disease from their infected stool onto food via unwashed hands. For this reason, infected persons who were cooks (like Mallon) or food handlers had the most likelihood of spreading the disease. The Verdict   The judge ruled in favor of the health officials and Mallon, now popularly known as Typhoid Mary, was remanded to the custody of the Board of Health of the City of New York.  Mallon went back to the isolated cottage on North Brother Island with little hope of being released. In February of 1910, a new health commissioner decided that Mallon could go free as long as she agreed never to work as a cook again. Anxious to regain her freedom, Mallon accepted the conditions. On February 19, 1910, Mary Mallon agreed that she was ...prepared to change her occupation (that of the cook), and will give assurance by affidavit that she will upon her release take such hygienic precautions as will protect those with whom she comes in contact, from infection.  She was then released.   Recapture of Typhoid Mary Some people believe that Mallon never had any intention of following the health officials rules; thus they believe Mallon had malicious intent with her cooking. But not working as a cook pushed Mallon into service in other domestic positions which did not pay as well. Feeling healthy, Mallon still did not really believe that she could spread typhoid. Though in the beginning, Mallon tried to be a laundress as well as worked at other jobs, for a reason that has not been left in any documents, Mallon eventually went back to working as a cook. In January of 1915 (nearly five years after Mallons release), the Sloane Maternity Hospital in Manhattan suffered a typhoid fever outbreak. Twenty-five people became ill and two of them died. Soon, evidence pointed to a recently-hired cook, Mrs. Brown—and Mrs. Brown was really Mary Mallon, using a pseudonym. If the public had shown Mary Mallon some  sympathy during her first period of confinement because she was an unwitting typhoid carrier, all of the sympathies disappeared after her recapture. This time, Typhoid Mary knew of her healthy carrier status, even if she didnt believe it; thus she willingly and knowingly caused pain and death to her victims. Using a pseudonym made even more people feel that Mallon knew she was guilty. Isolation and Death Mallon was again sent to North Brother Island to live in the same isolated cottage that she had inhabited during her last confinement. For 23 more years, Mary Mallon remained imprisoned on the island. The exact life she led on the island is unclear, but it is known that she helped around the tuberculosis  hospital, gaining the title nurse in 1922 and then hospital helper sometime later. In 1925, Mallon began to help in the hospitals lab. In December 1932, Mary Mallon suffered a large stroke that left her paralyzed. She was then transferred from her cottage to a bed in the childrens ward of the hospital on the island, where she stayed until her death six years later, on November 11, 1938. Other Healthy Carriers Though Mallon was the first carrier found, she was not the only healthy carrier of typhoid during that time. An estimated 3,000 to 4,500 new cases of typhoid fever were reported in New York City alone and it was estimated that about three percent of those who had typhoid fever become carriers, creating 90–135 new carriers a year. By the time Mallon died over 400 other healthy carriers had been identified in New York. Mallon was also not the most deadly. Forty-seven illnesses and three deaths were attributed to Mallon while Tony Labella (another healthy carrier) caused 122 people to become ill and five deaths. Labella was isolated for two weeks and then released. Mallon was not the only healthy carrier who broke the health officials rules after being told of their contagious status. Alphonse Cotils, a restaurant and bakery owner, was told not to prepare food for other people. When health officials found him back at work, they agreed to let him go free when he promised to conduct his business over the phone. Legacy So why is Mary Mallon so infamously remembered as Typhoid Mary? Why was she the only healthy carrier isolated for life? These questions are hard to answer. Judith Leavitt, the author of  Typhoid Mary, believes that her personal identity contributed to the extreme treatment she received from health officials. Leavitt claims that there was prejudice against Mallon not only for being Irish and a woman, but also for being a domestic servant, not having a family, not being considered a bread earner, having a temper, and not believing in her carrier status. During her life, Mary Mallon experienced extreme punishment for something in which she had no control and, for whatever reason, has gone down in history as the evasive and malicious Typhoid Mary. Sources Brooks, J. The Sad and Tragic Life of Typhoid Mary. CMAJ :154.6 (1996): 915–16. Print. Canadian Medical Association Journal (Journal de lAssociation medicale canadienne) Leavitt, Judith Walzer. Typhoid Mary: Captive to the Publics Health. Boston: Beacon Press, 1996.Marineli, Filio, et al. Mary Mallon (1869–1938) and the History of Typhoid Fever. Annals of Gastroenterology 26.2 (2013): 132–34. Print.Moorhead, Robert. William Budd and Typhoid Fever. Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine 95.11 (2002): 561–64. Print.Soper, G. A. The Curious Career of Typhoid Mary. Bulletin of the New York Academy of Medicine 15.10 (1939): 698–712. Print.

Angels Demons Chapter 98-101 Free Essays

98 The six pompieri firemen who responded to the fire at the Church of Santa Maria Della Vittoria extinguished the bonfire with blasts of Halon gas. Water was cheaper, but the steam it created would have ruined the frescoes in the chapel, and the Vatican paid Roman pompieri a healthy stipend for swift and prudent service in all Vatican-owned buildings. Pompieri, by the nature of their work, witnessed tragedy almost daily, but the execution in this church was something none of them would ever forget. We will write a custom essay sample on Angels Demons Chapter 98-101 or any similar topic only for you Order Now Part crucifixion, part hanging, part burning at the stake, the scene was something dredged from a Gothic nightmare. Unfortunately, the press, as usual, had arrived before the fire department. They’d shot plenty of video before the pompieri cleared the church. When the firemen finally cut the victim down and lay him on the floor, there was no doubt who the man was. â€Å"Cardinale Guidera,† one whispered. â€Å"Di Barcellona.† The victim was nude. The lower half of his body was crimson-black, blood oozing through gaping cracks in his thighs. His shinbones were exposed. One fireman vomited. Another went outside to breathe. The true horror, though, was the symbol seared on the cardinal’s chest. The squad chief circled the corpse in awestruck dread. Lavoro del diavolo, he said to himself. Satan himself did this. He crossed himself for the first time since childhood. â€Å"Un’ altro corpo!† someone yelled. One of the firemen had found another body. The second victim was a man the chief recognized immediately. The austere commander of the Swiss Guard was a man for whom few public law enforcement officials had any affection. The chief called the Vatican, but all the circuits were busy. He knew it didn’t matter. The Swiss Guard would hear about this on television in a matter of minutes. As the chief surveyed the damage, trying to recreate what possibly could have gone on here, he saw a niche riddled with bullet holes. A coffin had been rolled off its supports and fallen upside down in an apparent struggle. It was a mess. That’s for the police and Holy See to deal with, the chief thought, turning away. As he turned, though, he stopped. Coming from the coffin he heard a sound. It was not a sound any fireman ever liked to hear. â€Å"Bomba!† he cried out. â€Å"Tutti fuori!† When the bomb squad rolled the coffin over, they discovered the source of the electronic beeping. They stared, confused. â€Å"Medico!† one finally screamed. â€Å"Medico!† 99 â€Å"Any word from Olivetti?† the camerlegno asked, looking drained as Rocher escorted him back from the Sistine Chapel to the Pope’s office. â€Å"No, signore. I am fearing the worst.† When they reached the Pope’s office, the camerlegno’s voice was heavy. â€Å"Captain, there is nothing more I can do here tonight. I fear I have done too much already. I am going into this office to pray. I do not wish to be disturbed. The rest is in God’s hands.† â€Å"Yes, signore.† â€Å"The hour is late, Captain. Find that canister.† â€Å"Our search continues.† Rocher hesitated. â€Å"The weapon proves to be too well hidden.† The camerlegno winced, as if he could not think of it. â€Å"Yes. At exactly 11:15 P.M., if the church is still in peril, I want you to evacuate the cardinals. I am putting their safety in your hands. I ask only one thing. Let these men proceed from this place with dignity. Let them exit into St. Peter’s Square and stand side by side with the rest of the world. I do not want the last image of this church to be frightened old men sneaking out a back door.† â€Å"Very good, signore. And you? Shall I come for you at 11:15 as well?† â€Å"There will be no need.† â€Å"Signore?† â€Å"I will leave when the spirit moves me.† Rocher wondered if the camerlegno intended to go down with the ship. The camerlegno opened the door to the Pope’s office and entered. â€Å"Actually†¦Ã¢â‚¬  he said, turning. â€Å"There is one thing.† â€Å"Signore?† â€Å"There seems to be a chill in this office tonight. I am trembling.† â€Å"The electric heat is out. Let me lay you a fire.† The camerlegno smiled tiredly. â€Å"Thank you. Thank you, very much.† Rocher exited the Pope’s office where he had left the camerlegno praying by firelight in front of a small statue of the Blessed Mother Mary. It was an eerie sight. A black shadow kneeling in the flickering glow. As Rocher headed down the hall, a guard appeared, running toward him. Even by candlelight Rocher recognized Lieutenant Chartrand. Young, green, and eager. â€Å"Captain,† Chartrand called, holding out a cellular phone. â€Å"I think the camerlegno’s address may have worked. We’ve got a caller here who says he has information that can help us. He phoned on one of the Vatican’s private extensions. I have no idea how he got the number.† Rocher stopped. â€Å"What?† â€Å"He will only speak to the ranking officer.† â€Å"Any word from Olivetti?† â€Å"No, sir.† He took the receiver. â€Å"This is Captain Rocher. I am ranking officer here.† â€Å"Rocher,† the voice said. â€Å"I will explain to you who I am. Then I will tell you what you are going to do next.† When the caller stopped talking and hung up, Rocher stood stunned. He now knew from whom he was taking orders. Back at CERN, Sylvie Baudeloque was frantically trying to keep track of all the licensing inquiries coming in on Kohler’s voice mail. When the private line on the director’s desk began to ring, Sylvie jumped. Nobody had that number. She answered. â€Å"Yes?† â€Å"Ms. Baudeloque? This is Director Kohler. Contact my pilot. My jet is to be ready in five minutes.† 100 Robert Langdon had no idea where he was or how long he had been unconscious when he opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the underside of a baroque, frescoed cupola. Smoke drifted overhead. Something was covering his mouth. An oxygen mask. He pulled it off. There was a terrible smell in the room – like burning flesh. Langdon winced at the pounding in his head. He tried to sit up. A man in white was kneeling beside him. â€Å"Riposati!† the man said, easing Langdon onto his back again. â€Å"Sono il paramedico.† Langdon succumbed, his head spiraling like the smoke overhead. What the hell happened? Wispy feelings of panic sifted through his mind. â€Å"Sorcio salvatore,† the paramedic said. â€Å"Mouse†¦ savior.† Langdon felt even more lost. Mouse savior? The man motioned to the Mickey Mouse watch on Langdon’s wrist. Langdon’s thoughts began to clear. He remembered setting the alarm. As he stared absently at the watch face, Langdon also noted the hour. 10:28 P.M. He sat bolt upright. Then, it all came back. Langdon stood near the main altar with the fire chief and a few of his men. They had been rattling him with questions. Langdon wasn’t listening. He had questions of his own. His whole body ached, but he knew he needed to act immediately. A pompiero approached Langdon across the church. â€Å"I checked again, sir. The only bodies we found are Cardinal Guidera and the Swiss Guard commander. There’s no sign of a woman here.† â€Å"Grazie,† Langdon said, unsure whether he was relieved or horrified. He knew he had seen Vittoria unconscious on the floor. Now she was gone. The only explanation he came up with was not a comforting one. The killer had not been subtle on the phone. A woman of spirit. I am aroused. Perhaps before this night is over, I will find you. And when I do†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Langdon looked around. â€Å"Where is the Swiss Guard?† â€Å"Still no contact. Vatican lines are jammed.† Langdon felt overwhelmed and alone. Olivetti was dead. The cardinal was dead. Vittoria was missing. A half hour of his life had disappeared in a blink. Outside, Langdon could hear the press swarming. He suspected footage of the third cardinal’s horrific death would no doubt air soon, if it hadn’t already. Langdon hoped the camerlegno had long since assumed the worst and taken action. Evacuate the damn Vatican! Enough games! We lose! Langdon suddenly realized that all of the catalysts that had been driving him – helping to save Vatican City, rescuing the four cardinals, coming face to face with the brotherhood he had studied for years – all of these things had evaporated from his mind. The war was lost. A new compulsion had ignited within him. It was simple. Stark. Primal. Find Vittoria. He felt an unexpected emptiness inside. Langdon had often heard that intense situations could unite two people in ways that decades together often did not. He now believed it. In Vittoria’s absence he felt something he had not felt in years. Loneliness. The pain gave him strength. Pushing all else from his mind, Langdon mustered his concentration. He prayed that the Hassassin would take care of business before pleasure. Otherwise, Langdon knew he was already too late. No, he told himself, you have time. Vittoria’s captor still had work to do. He had to surface one last time before disappearing forever. The last altar of science, Langdon thought. The killer had one final task. Earth. Air. Fire. Water. He looked at his watch. Thirty minutes. Langdon moved past the firemen toward Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Teresa. This time, as he stared at Bernini’s marker, Langdon had no doubt what he was looking for. Let angels guide you on your lofty quest†¦ Directly over the recumbent saint, against a backdrop of gilded flame, hovered Bernini’s angel. The angel’s hand clutched a pointed spear of fire. Langdon’s eyes followed the direction of the shaft, arching toward the right side of the church. His eyes hit the wall. He scanned the spot where the spear was pointing. There was nothing there. Langdon knew, of course, the spear was pointing far beyond the wall, into the night, somewhere across Rome. â€Å"What direction is that?† Langdon asked, turning and addressing the chief with a newfound determination. â€Å"Direction?† The chief glanced where Langdon was pointing. He sounded confused. â€Å"I don’t know†¦ west, I think.† â€Å"What churches are in that direction?† The chief’s puzzlement seemed to deepen. â€Å"Dozens. Why?† Langdon frowned. Of course there were dozens. â€Å"I need a city map. Right away.† The chief sent someone running out to the fire truck for a map. Langdon turned back to the statue. Earth†¦ Air†¦ Fire†¦ VITTORIA. The final marker is Water, he told himself. Bernini’s Water. It was in a church out there somewhere. A needle in a haystack. He spurred his mind through all the Bernini works he could recall. I need a tribute to Water! Langdon flashed on Bernini’s statue of Triton – the Greek God of the sea. Then he realized it was located in the square outside this very church, in entirely the wrong direction. He forced himself to think. What figure would Bernini have carved as a glorification of water? Neptune and Apollo? Unfortunately that statue was in London’s Victoria Albert Museum. â€Å"Signore?† A fireman ran in with a map. Langdon thanked him and spread it out on the altar. He immediately realized he had asked the right people; the fire department’s map of Rome was as detailed as any Langdon had ever seen. â€Å"Where are we now?† The man pointed. â€Å"Next to Piazza Barberini.† Langdon looked at the angel’s spear again to get his bearings. The chief had estimated correctly. According to the map, the spear was pointing west. Langdon traced a line from his current location west across the map. Almost instantly his hopes began to sink. It seemed that with every inch his finger traveled, he passed yet another building marked by a tiny black cross. Churches. The city was riddled with them. Finally, Langdon’s finger ran out of churches and trailed off into the suburbs of Rome. He exhaled and stepped back from the map. Damn. Surveying the whole of Rome, Langdon’s eyes touched down on the three churches where the first three cardinals had been killed. The Chigi Chapel†¦ St. Peter’s†¦ here†¦ Seeing them all laid out before him now, Langdon noted an oddity in their locations. Somehow he had imagined the churches would be scattered randomly across Rome. But they most definitely were not. Improbably, the three churches seemed to be separated systematically, in an enormous city-wide triangle. Langdon double-checked. He was not imagining things. â€Å"Penna,† he said suddenly, without looking up. Someone handed him a ballpoint pen. Langdon circled the three churches. His pulse quickened. He triple-checked his markings. A symmetrical triangle! Langdon’s first thought was for the Great Seal on the one-dollar bill – the triangle containing the all-seeing eye. But it didn’t make sense. He had marked only three points. There were supposed to be four in all. So where the hell is Water? Langdon knew that anywhere he placed the fourth point, the triangle would be destroyed. The only option to retain the symmetry was to place the fourth marker inside the triangle, at the center. He looked at the spot on the map. Nothing. The idea bothered him anyway. The four elements of science were considered equal. Water was not special; Water would not be at the center of the others. Still, his instinct told him the systematic arrangement could not possibly be accidental. I’m not yet seeing the whole picture. There was only one alternative. The four points did not make a triangle; they made some other shape. Langdon looked at the map. A square, perhaps? Although a square made no symbolic sense, squares were symmetrical at least. Langdon put his finger on the map at one of the points that would turn the triangle into a square. He saw immediately that a perfect square was impossible. The angles of the original triangle were oblique and created more of a distorted quadrilateral. As he studied the other possible points around the triangle, something unexpected happened. He noticed that the line he had drawn earlier to indicate the direction of the angel’s spear passed perfectly through one of the possibilities. Stupefied, Langdon circled that point. He was now looking at four ink marks on the map, arranged in somewhat of an awkward, kitelike diamond. He frowned. Diamonds were not an Illuminati symbol either. He paused. Then again†¦ For an instant Langdon flashed on the famed Illuminati Diamond. The thought, of course, was ridiculous. He dismissed it. Besides, this diamond was oblong – like a kite – hardly an example of the flawless symmetry for which the Illuminati Diamond was revered. When he leaned in to examine where he had placed the final mark, Langdon was surprised to find that the fourth point lay dead center of Rome’s famed Piazza Navona. He knew the piazza contained a major church, but he had already traced his finger through that piazza and considered the church there. To the best of his knowledge it contained no Bernini works. The church was called Saint Agnes in Agony, named for St. Agnes, a ravishing teenage virgin banished to a life of sexual slavery for refusing to renounce her faith. There must be something in that church! Langdon racked his brain, picturing the inside of the church. He could think of no Bernini works at all inside, much less anything to do with water. The arrangement on the map was bothering him too. A diamond. It was far too accurate to be coincidence, but it was not accurate enough to make any sense. A kite? Langdon wondered if he had chosen the wrong point. What am I missing! The answer took another thirty seconds to hit him, but when it did, Langdon felt an exhilaration like nothing he had ever experienced in his academic career. The Illuminati genius, it seemed, would never cease. The shape he was looking at was not intended as a diamond at all. The four points only formed a diamond because Langdon had connected adjacent points. The Illuminati believe in opposites! Connecting opposite vertices with his pen, Langdon’s fingers were trembling. There before him on the map was a giant cruciform. It’s a cross! The four elements of science unfolded before his eyes†¦ sprawled across Rome in an enormous, city-wide cross. As he stared in wonder, a line of poetry rang in his mind†¦ like an old friend with a new face. ‘Cross Rome the mystic elements unfold†¦ ‘Cross Rome†¦ The fog began to clear. Langdon saw that the answer had been in front of him all night! The Illuminati poem had been telling him how the altars were laid out. A cross! ‘Cross Rome the mystic elements unfold! It was cunning wordplay. Langdon had originally read the word’Cross as an abbreviation of Across. He assumed it was poetic license intended to retain the meter of the poem. But it was so much more than that! Another hidden clue. The cruciform on the map, Langdon realized, was the ultimate Illuminati duality. It was a religious symbol formed by elements of science. Galileo’s path of Illumination was a tribute to both science and God! The rest of the puzzle fell into place almost immediately. Piazza Navona. Dead center of Piazza Navona, outside the church of St. Agnes in Agony, Bernini had forged one of his most celebrated sculptures. Everyone who came to Rome went to see it. The Fountain of the Four Rivers! A flawless tribute to water, Bernini’s Fountain of the Four Rivers glorified the four major rivers of the Old World – The Nile, Ganges, Danube, and Rio Plata. Water, Langdon thought. The final marker. It was perfect. And even more perfect, Langdon realized, the cherry on the cake, was that high atop Bernini’s fountain stood a towering obelisk. Leaving confused firemen in his wake, Langdon ran across the church in the direction of Olivetti’s lifeless body. 10:31 P.M., he thought. Plenty of time. It was the first instant all day that Langdon felt ahead of the game. Kneeling beside Olivetti, out of sight behind some pews, Langdon discreetly took possession of the commander’s semiautomatic and walkie-talkie. Langdon knew he would call for help, but this was not the place to do it. The final altar of science needed to remain a secret for now. The media and fire department racing with sirens blaring to Piazza Navona would be no help at all. Without a word, Langdon slipped out the door and skirted the press, who were now entering the church in droves. He crossed Piazza Barberini. In the shadows he turned on the walkie-talkie. He tried to hail Vatican City but heard nothing but static. He was either out of range or the transmitter needed some kind of authorization code. Langdon adjusted the complex dials and buttons to no avail. Abruptly, he realized his plan to get help was not going to work. He spun, looking for a pay phone. None. Vatican circuits were jammed anyway. He was alone. Feeling his initial surge of confidence decay, Langdon stood a moment and took stock of his pitiful state – covered in bone dust, cut, deliriously exhausted, and hungry. Langdon glanced back at the church. Smoke spiraled over the cupola, lit by the media lights and fire trucks. He wondered if he should go back and get help. Instinct warned him however that extra help, especially untrained help, would be nothing but a liability. If the Hassassin sees us coming†¦ He thought of Vittoria and knew this would be his final chance to face her captor. Piazza Navona, he thought, knowing he could get there in plenty of time and stake it out. He scanned the area for a taxi, but the streets were almost entirely deserted. Even the taxi drivers, it seemed, had dropped everything to find a television. Piazza Navona was only about a mile away, but Langdon had no intention of wasting precious energy on foot. He glanced back at the church, wondering if he could borrow a vehicle from someone. A fire truck? A press van? Be serious. Sensing options and minutes slipping away, Langdon made his decision. Pulling the gun from his pocket, he committed an act so out of character that he suspected his soul must now be possessed. Running over to a lone Citroen sedan idling at a stoplight, Langdon pointed the weapon through the driver’s open window. â€Å"Fuori!† he yelled. The trembling man got out. Langdon jumped behind the wheel and hit the gas. 101 Gunther Glick sat on a bench in a holding tank inside the office of the Swiss Guard. He prayed to every god he could think of. Please let this NOT be a dream. It had been the scoop of his life. The scoop of anyone’s life. Every reporter on earth wished he were Glick right now. You are awake, he told himself. And you are a star. Dan Rather is crying right now. Macri was beside him, looking a little bit stunned. Glick didn’t blame her. In addition to exclusively broadcasting the camerlegno’s address, she and Glick had provided the world with gruesome photos of the cardinals and of the Pope – that tongue! – as well as a live video feed of the antimatter canister counting down. Incredible! Of course, all of that had all been at the camerlegno’s behest, so that was not the reason Glick and Macri were now locked in a Swiss Guard holding tank. It had been Glick’s daring addendum to their coverage that the guards had not appreciated. Glick knew the conversation on which he had just reported was not intended for his ears, but this was his moment in the sun. Another Glick scoop! â€Å"The 11th Hour Samaritan?† Macri groaned on the bench beside him, clearly unimpressed. Glick smiled. â€Å"Brilliant, wasn’t it?† â€Å"Brilliantly dumb.† She’s just jealous, Glick knew. Shortly after the camerlegno’s address, Glick had again, by chance, been in the right place at the right time. He’d overheard Rocher giving new orders to his men. Apparently Rocher had received a phone call from a mysterious individual who Rocher claimed had critical information regarding the current crisis. Rocher was talking as if this man could help them and was advising his guards to prepare for the guest’s arrival. Although the information was clearly private, Glick had acted as any dedicated reporter would – without honor. He’d found a dark corner, ordered Macri to fire up her remote camera, and he’d reported the news. â€Å"Shocking new developments in God’s city,† he had announced, squinting his eyes for added intensity. Then he’d gone on to say that a mystery guest was coming to Vatican City to save the day. The 11th Hour Samaritan, Glick had called him – a perfect name for the faceless man appearing at the last moment to do a good deed. The other networks had picked up the catchy sound bite, and Glick was yet again immortalized. I’m brilliant, he mused. Peter Jennings just jumped off a bridge. Of course Glick had not stopped there. While he had the world’s attention, he had thrown in a little of his own conspiracy theory for good measure. Brilliant. Utterly brilliant. â€Å"You screwed us,† Macri said. â€Å"You totally blew it.† â€Å"What do you mean? I was great!† Macri stared disbelievingly. â€Å"Former President George Bush? An Illuminatus?† Glick smiled. How much more obvious could it be? George Bush was a well-documented, 33rd-degree Mason, and he was the head of the CIA when the agency closed their Illuminati investigation for lack of evidence. And all those speeches about â€Å"a thousand points of light† and a â€Å"New World Order†Ã¢â‚¬ ¦ Bush was obviously Illuminati. â€Å"And that bit about CERN?† Macri chided. â€Å"You are going to have a very big line of lawyers outside your door tomorrow.† â€Å"CERN? Oh come on! It’s so obvious! Think about it! The Illuminati disappear off the face of the earth in the 1950s at about the same time CERN is founded. CERN is a haven for the most enlightened people on earth. Tons of private funding. They build a weapon that can destroy the church, and oops!†¦ they lose it!† â€Å"So you tell the world that CERN is the new home base of the Illuminati?† â€Å"Obviously! Brotherhoods don’t just disappear. The Illuminati had to go somewhere. CERN is a perfect place for them to hide. I’m not saying everyone at CERN is Illuminati. It’s probably like a huge Masonic lodge, where most people are innocent, but the upper echelons – â€Å" â€Å"Have you ever heard of slander, Glick? Liability?† â€Å"Have you ever heard of real journalism!† â€Å"Journalism? You were pulling bullshit out of thin air! I should have turned off the camera! And what the hell was that crap about CERN’s corporate logo? Satanic symbology? Have you lost your mind?† Glick smiled. Macri’s jealousy was definitely showing. The CERN logo had been the most brilliant coup of all. Ever since the camerlegno’s address, all the networks were talking about CERN and antimatter. Some stations were showing the CERN corporate logo as a backdrop. The logo seemed standard enough – two intersecting circles representing two particle accelerators, and five tangential lines representing particle injection tubes. The whole world was staring at this logo, but it had been Glick, a bit of a symbologist himself, who had first seen the Illuminati symbology hidden in it. â€Å"You’re not a symbologist,† Macri chided, â€Å"you’re just one lucky-ass reporter. You should have left the symbology to the Harvard guy.† â€Å"The Harvard guy missed it,† Glick said. The Illuminati significance in this logo is so obvious! He was beaming inside. Although CERN had lots of accelerators, their logo showed only two. Two is the Illuminati number of duality. Although most accelerators had only one injection tube, the logo showed five. Five is the number of the Illuminati pentagram. Then had come the coup – the most brilliant point of all. Glick pointed out that the logo contained a large numeral â€Å"6 – clearly formed by one of the lines and circles – and when the logo was rotated, another six appeared†¦ and then another. The logo contained three sixes! 666! The devil’s number! The mark of the beast! Glick was a genius. Macri looked ready to slug him. The jealousy would pass, Glick knew, his mind now wandering to another thought. If CERN was Illuminati headquarters, was CERN where the Illuminati kept their infamous Illuminati Diamond? Glick had read about it on the Internet – â€Å"a flawless diamond, born of the ancient elements with such perfection that all those who saw it could only stand in wonder.† Glick wondered if the secret whereabouts of the Illuminati Diamond might be yet another mystery he could unveil tonight. How to cite Angels Demons Chapter 98-101, Essay examples

The Centralized Organizational Structure Of The US Military free essay sample

The Need for Centralization Centralization is the measure of the distribution of authority over decision- making among the top-tier Army leadership and second-level commanders within the organization. Decision-making deals with the formulation of strategy, scheduling appointments, distribution of resources, communication dissemination, and the enforcement of discipline. Second-level commanders can only make such decisions for their part of the organization, while the top leadership can be influential on all of the organizational levels (Sino, 201 1).According to Sino (2011), only centralized organizations can implement pesticides strategies such as divide and conquer, co-option, and hearts and minds, and they are the most effective at enforcing standards and discipline. However, the US military is very inefficient and slow to adapt to change. Centralization Has Its Flaws Fort Riley, Kansas did not have a combat aviation brigade until 2006. As a result, the Army post has always been infantry-centric. The demands placed on the aviation brigade far outpace the other units stationed at Fort Riley. We will write a custom essay sample on The Centralized Organizational Structure Of The US Military or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page The 1st Infantry Divisions leadership does not fully understand the diversity of he units in its command, and therefore does not fully realize all of the internal and external requirements placed on the various units. As the RAND study pointed out, The challenge for the U. S. Military is to develop new organizational structures that achieve the efficiencies and creativity businesses have gained in the virtual and reengineering environments, while at the same time retaining the elements of the traditional, hierarchical, command and control system (for example, discipline, morale, tradition) essential for operations in the combat arena. (Price, 2013). While effective in he distribution of information and resources from top-down, the current military structure has many negative impacts on the members of our Armed Forces. At the individual level, the militarys hierarchical bureaucratic structure shuns creativity, impedes empowerment and a sense of ownership, and promotes cynicism and doubt of the organizations decision-making ability (Price, 2013). My flight commander from flight school said it perfectly, the Army measures something with a micrometer, marks it with chalk, and cuts it with an axe. What Can be Done? Although am not an expert in organizational structuring, believe that there deeds to be some form of decentralization throughout the Department of Defense. Decentralization would put more decision-making power in the hands of second-tier commanders, which would make them more flexible on the unit level. This unit flexibility, however may come at the expense of the overall flexibility of the organization (Sino, 201 1).For example, if the battalion commander of the attack helicopter battalion decided to change his mission in order to kill the enemy more effectively, it may have an adverse impact on other units on the battlefield. The top-tier leaderships strategy is eased on the orders given to the subordinate units and their confidence that they will be carried out. Conclusion After spending over twenty years serving the SIS Army, I have always worked in a centralized organization.The nature of our militarys missions require a centralized structure with a definite chain-of-command for decision-making processes, distribution, and enforcing standards and discipline. The Armys strict centralization, however comes at a cost. It shuns creativity, impedes empowerment and a sense of ownership, is inefficient and promotes cynicism. Believe that there needs to be some form of decentralization wrought the SIS Armed Forces, providing more decision-making power in the hands of second-tier commanders without comprising the overall strategic mission of the organization.