Tuesday, October 29, 2019
Retail Marketing Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 3000 words - 2
Retail Marketing - Essay Example The emergence and popularity of the free trade policies have facilitated the international expansion of the multinational corporations as the free trade policies have multiplied the opportunities in the international market. In case retailing marketing, the international exposures have paved the way for better market expansions and hence many leading retailers like Wal-Mart, Tesco, and Sainsbury etc have entered many international markets with better opportunities. However, many academics believe that from the very early period of business, the retailers used to go for international business. At presented, the entire process of international trade have become more structured and as retailers have started to open their international divisions and units with multiple retailing stores. The multinational retailers have realized that potential opportunities underlying in the international and development market like China, Middle East, India etc. The process of international retailing bec omes a notable instance during late 1990s. With increasing global competition, many scholars perceive that for long term sustainability, retailers must opt for the internationalisation of their business as some of expert retail analytics have commented that â€Å"by the year 2005....retailer will either be global...or they will be gone†(Lamba, 2002, p.06). This paper will also attempt to present a retailer’s international viability through analysis and discussion. Therefore, as a retailer, India’s retail chain group, Shopper’s Stop has been selected as it does not have international business unit. In order to assess its international viability, an internal analysis of this retailer will be conducted using the value chain model. Next, for international exposition, retailer also needs to understand the basics of international retailing. Hence, it is necessary to identify the factors affecting the international retailing and the way to gain the competitive advantages. Moreover, for international retailing expansion, strategic framework must be in according and hence, finally, a set of plausible and relevant recommended strategies will be given followed by a conclusion. 2. Brief Overview about Company: Shopper’s Stop Shopper’s Stop is a popular Indian retail chain and it is primarily India-based retailing company. This retail chain was established on October 07, 1991 and it was founded by the K. Raheja Group of Companies, one of pioneers in hospitality and real estate business. Initially, the retail chain was brand shop and gradually, it a brand store family store for Fashion and Lifestyle. It has experienced a rapid growth in Indian competitive retailing industry and many considered it as â€Å"the highest benchmark for the Indian retail industry†, and moreover, it keeps expanding its business in the domestic market by target the non-catered regional markets (Shoppers Stop Ltd.-a, n.d.). It is an public ltd. Compa ny and listed in the Bombay Stock Exchange. The company aims to be the top retail company in India in department store category with a set of pre-defined
Sunday, October 27, 2019
Alan Turings Life, Contributions, and Legacy
Alan Turings Life, Contributions, and Legacy Our daily lives are filled with technology. We wake up on time thanks to the alarms we set on our phone. We can find the fastest route available to get to where we need to go using the GPS. We can work anywhere and whenever we want, using our portable laptops. Sometimes we dont know how to spell a word, or know the answer to a question, and we are able to search it up on Google and find an answer. Technology makes our lives easier. It would be hard to live in a world without the conveniences we have today. We owe a lot of our modern advancements to Alan Turing, one of the most prominent computer scientists in the early 1900s. Turing created the concept of a Universal Turing machine, what is known as a computer today. Moreover, Turing also led the philosophy to artificial intelligence, much of what our newest technologies incorporate nowadays. While he did not get to witness the potential and great reality of his concepts today, his vision created a lasting legacy that future computer scientists continue to build on and explore. Alan Mathison Turing was born on June 23, 1912 in Paddington, London (Hodges). Turings father, Julius Mathison Turing, served the British Indian Civil Service where he had met Turings mother, Ethel Sara Stoney, who was the daughter of the chief railway engineer in the Madras Presidency (Hodges). Alan Turing also had an older brother, John Turing. Turing grew up in the upper-middle-class, and did not see his parents much (Hodges). Accordingly, he was sent to Sherborne School, a boarding school. At Sherborne School, Turing focused on mathematics and science, studying ahead of what the school expected the students to learn (Hodges). In his classes, Turing met Christopher Morcom, which he found to be an equal peer in his interest in mathematics and science (Hodges). Unfortunately, 2 years after they had met, Morcom passed away, which caused great trauma for Turing (Hodges). After his best friends death, Turing went to Kings College in Cambridge, where the two intended to go together before Morcoms untimely death (Hodges). At Kings College, he was more encouraged to endeavor in his studies and research rather than at Sherborne (Hodges). Turing was well read in principles of math and quantum mechanics (Hodges). Turing studied and was influenced works by other mathematicians and scientists such as von Neumann and A. S. Eddington (Hodges). Turing was awarded a Fellowship of Kings College in 1935 (Hodges). A year later, he received a Smiths Prize for his research on probability theory (Hodges). While attending Kings College, Alan Turing was involved with the Anti-war movement of 1933, although he was not deeply into politics (Hodges). The Anti-war movement that Turing was associated with was in between the two world wars. In the 1930s, people rebelled against further warfare because of the consequences of the First World War. Because the First World War caused great casualties and suffering, people resisted fighting in future wars, and advocated for peace instead. The Anti-war movement led to new reason of thoughts such as Marxism and pacifism, which Turing did not participate in (Hodges). The Second World War broke out in 1939 and ended shortly 6 years after. During that time, Turing worked in secret as a cryptographer for the British Intelligence, among other top cryptographers (Hodges). Ultimately, his mission was to crack Germanys Enigma cipher, the most complex cipher at its time, which was the key to accessing important German troops plan. Turing managed the impossible and cracked the code. By doing so, he saved many Allied lives. Turing was hugely responsible for the outcome of the war. While it is not confirmed, Winston Churchill supposedly said that Turing made the single biggest contribution to Allied victory in the war against Nazi Germany (Schilling). Turings involvement with the Second World War and working with the British government allowed him to have funding and thus influenced him to work on several other projects. Turing had many great contributions during the Second World War. In order to crack the Enigma, Turing and his colleague Gordon Welchman invented the Bombe, which deciphers the encrypted messages from the Enigma sent by the Germans (IWM). Before the invention of the Bombe, the Enigma would have been impossible to crack, as the encryption method was changed daily. Consequently, the Bombe drastically reduced the workload required to crack the Enigma, and allowed the British to have Germans intelligence which was a huge advantage. Turing shared his work with other allied countries, which led them to work on different versions of the Bombe (IWM). One of Turings greatest contributions is the Universal Turing Machine. Turing started working on it in 1936 before the Second World War, and continued to work on it after the war (IWM). Turing first had the idea of a Turing machine, a machine that is capable of performing a computational task. There are many possible tasks that a Turing Machine can compute, thus there are infinite possibilities of Turing machines (Hodges). Alan Turing conceptualized the Universal Turing machine, which would perform any task one Turing machine would be able to do (Hodges). Think of a Turing machine as a function on a calculator, such as adding or subtracting. The Universal Turing machine is the calculator itself, which comprises many functions. The Universal Turing machine was a single machine that had the potential to do many tasks. Many computer scientists may argue Alan Turing is the inventor of the first modern computer. His idea of the Universal Turing machine is the essence of the modern computer. Computers today have many applications, such as a calculator, a web browser, or a music player. These applications could be independent machines, however they are encapsulated into one machine, which is the idea of the Universal Turing machine at heart. Without Turings ingenious concept, we might not have the modern computer today. Another big contribution by Alan Turing is the Turing Test. The Turing Test comes from Turings Computing Machinery and Intelligence paper written in 1950 (Hodges). Turing created a hypothesis that a Turing machine can be created to have intelligence. According to John M. Kowalik, The test consisted of a person asking questions via keyboard to both a person and an intelligent machine. He believed that if the person could not tell the machine apart from the person after a reasonable amount of time, the machine was somewhat intelligent. The Turing Test challenges the idea of an intelligent machine, or at least convince a human it has intelligence. Turing has left a great legacy for the progress of computer science. Based on his concepts of the Universal Turing machine, later computer scientists were inspired computational machines that could perform multiple tasks. The idea of a Universal Turing machine has not changed, but its capabilities have certainly evolved as technology evolves. From the clunky desktops in the late 1900s, to the rail thin laptops we have today, they were all inspired by Turings concept of the Universal Turing machine. Today, computer scientists are still exploring the infinite possibilities of the functionalities of a computer, as Turing theorized. The Turing Test spawned a new field of study in computer science. Turing left future computer scientists the ambitious idea of artificial intelligence. Although it was not achieved in his lifetime, today we have many applications of artificial intelligence that are all based on the fundamental idea of the Turing Test. Cars that can autonomously drive, Siri on the iPhone, and Google search are all examples of artificially intelligence led by the legacy of Turing. Scholars are still finding ways to implement artificial intelligence into our interactions in daily life. What Turing has started blossomed into a new form of technology that has transformed the way we cooperate with machines. In conclusion, Alan Turing deserves much appreciation for his works in his lifetime. Turings invention of the Bombe allowed the British to decipher the Enigma and led to victory for the Allied forces. The Universal Turing machine was arguably the first concept of the modern computer. The Turing Test led to talk and future work by computer scientists in artificial intelligence. Turing had a grand vision for how machines could aid us in the future. By following his legacy, computer scientists continue to build on the foundation that his concepts had laid out. Even when technology progress further, Turings vision will never be forgotten. His ideas have transcended in new forms. Many science fiction novels, philosophy, and movies can be accredited to Turings concepts. It is unfortunate that his contributions were not greatly recognized in his own lifetime as it is today. Turing faced many adversities with authorities concerning his sexuality with men, which was shunned mid-1900s in Engla nd (Hodges). Sadly, Turing passed away on June 8, 1954, due to cyanide poisoning, which was believed to be suicide (Hodges). Despite the challenges in his life, Turing still fathered many revolutionary ideas in computer science. Turing leaves us behind with his legacy, in promising hope for a greater future. References Hodges, Andrew. Alan Turing a Short Biography. Alan Turing a Short Biography. Turing.org.uk, 1995. Web. 24 Mar. 2017. Hodges, Andrew. The Alan Turing Internet Scrapbook. Alan Turing Scrapbook Turing Test. N.p., n.d. Web. 24 Mar. 2017. How Alan Turing Cracked The Enigma Code. Imperial War Museums. N.p., 21 Jan. 2015. Web. 24 Mar. 2017. Kowalik, John M. Alan Turing. N.p., 1995. Web. 24 Mar. 2017. Schilling, Johnathan. Churchill: Turing Made the Single Biggest Contribution to Allied Victory. The Churchill Centre. The International Churchill Society, n.d. Web. 24 Mar. 2017.
Friday, October 25, 2019
An Analysis of Shakespeares Sonnet 73 Essays -- Sonnet essays
An Analysis of Shakespeare's Sonnet 73    Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare is widely read and studied. But what is Shakespeare  trying to say? Though it seems there will not be a simple answer, for a better understanding of Shakespeare's Sonnet 73, this essay offers an explication of the sonnet from The Norton Anthology of English Literature:               That time of year thou mayst in me behold              When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang              Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,              Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.              In me thou seest the twilight of such day              As after sunset fadeth in the west;              Which by and by black night doth take away,              Death's second self that seals up all in rest.              In me thou seest the growing of such fire,              That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,              As the deathbed whereon it must expire,              Consumed with that it was nourished by.              This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,              To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.  (879)        This sonnet rhymed abab cdcd efef gg form. Most of his sonnets were written in the 1590s at the height of the vogue, but they were not published until 1609. The first 126 are addressed to a young man; the remainder (with the exception of the last two, which are conventional sonnets on Cupid) are addressed to an unknown "Dark Lady." Whether or not Shakespeare laid bare his heart in his sonnets, as many critics have contended, they are his most personal poems.        For understandi... ...ine 14). "Leave" in line 14 does not mean more than "leave behind."        Shakespeare's Sonnet 73 well fills and fits the three quatrains and single couplet of the Elizabethan sonnet. We can be sure there is no doubt to believe that some of Shakespeare's sonnets, like Sonnet 73, were well known and he was surely placed at the head of the dramatists and high among the non-dramatic poets. As Bender and Squier claimed (75), in the sixteenth century, Shakespeare is England's greatest playwright and the best of the Elizabethan sonneteers.  Works Cited Abrams, M. H., et al., The Norton Anthology of English Literature. Vol. 1. New York: Norton, 1986. Bender, Robert M., and Charles L. Squier, eds. The Sonnet: An Anthology. New York: Washington Square P, 1987. McAuley, James. Versification: A Short Introduction. Michigan: Michigan UP, 1985.Â
Thursday, October 24, 2019
A Game of Thrones Chapter Thirteen
Tyrion The north went on forever. Tyrion Lannister knew the maps as well as anyone, but a fortnight on the wild track that passed for the kingsroad up here had brought home the lesson that the map was one thing and the land quite another. They had left Winterfell on the same day as the king, amidst all the commotion of the royal departure, riding out to the sound of men shouting and horses snorting, to the rattle of wagons and the groaning of the queen's huge wheelhouse, as a light snow flurried about them. The kingsroad was just beyond the sprawl of castle and town. There the banners and the wagons and the columns of knights and freeriders turned south, taking the tumult with them, while Tyrion turned north with Benjen Stark and his nephew. It had grown colder after that, and far more quiet. West of the road were flint hills, grey and rugged, with tall watchtowers on their stony summits. To the east the land was lower, the ground flattening to a rolling plain that stretched away as far as the eye could see. Stone bridges spanned swift, narrow rivers, while small farms spread in rings around holdfasts walled in wood and stone. The road was well trafficked, and at night for their comfort there were rude inns to be found. Three days ride from Winterfell, however, the farmland gave way to dense wood, and the kingsroad grew lonely. The flint hills rose higher and wilder with each passing mile, until by the fifth day they had turned into mountains, cold blue-grey giants with jagged promontories and snow on their shoulders. When the wind blew from the north, long plumes of ice crystals flew from the high peaks like banners. With the mountains a wall to the west, the road veered north by northeast through the wood, a forest of oak and evergreen and black brier that seemed older and darker than any Tyrion had ever seen. â€Å"The wolfswood,†Benjen Stark called it, and indeed their nights came alive with the howls of distant packs, and some not so distant. Jon Snow's albino direwolf pricked up his ears at the nightly howling, but never raised his own voice in reply. There was something very unsettling about that animal, Tyrion thought. There were eight in the party by then, not counting the wolf. Tyrion traveled with two of his own men, as befit a Lannister. Benjen Stark had only his bastard nephew and some fresh mounts for the Night's Watch, but at the edge of the wolfswood they stayed a night behind the wooden walls of a forest holdfast, and there joined up with another of the black brothers, one Yoren. Yoren was stooped and sinister, his features hidden behind a beard as black as his clothing, but he seemed as tough as an old root and as hard as stone. With him were a pair of ragged peasant boys from the Fingers. â€Å"Rapers,†Yoren said with a cold look at his charges. Tyrion understood. Life on the Wall was said to be hard, but no doubt it was preferable to castration. Five men, three boys, a direwolf, twenty horses, and a cage of ravens given over to Benjen Stark by Maester Luwin. No doubt they made a curious fellowship for the kingsroad, or any road. Tyrion noticed Jon Snow watching Yoren and his sullen companions, with an odd cast to his face that looked uncomfortably like dismay. Yoren had a twisted shoulder and a sour smell, his hair and beard were matted and greasy and full of lice, his clothing old, patched, and seldom washed. His two young recruits smelled even worse, and seemed as stupid as they were cruel. No doubt the boy had made the mistake of thinking that the Night's Watch was made up of men like his uncle. If so, Yoren and his companions were a rude awakening. Tyrion felt sorry for the boy. He had chosen a hard life . . . or perhaps he should say that a hard life had been chosen for him. He had rather less sympathy for the uncle. Benjen Stark seemed to share his brother's distaste for Lannisters, and he had not been pleased when Tyrion had told him of his intentions. â€Å"I warn you, Lannister, you'll find no inns at the Wall,†he had said, looking down on him. â€Å"No doubt you'll find some place to put me,†Tyrion had replied. â€Å"As you might have noticed, I'm small.†One did not say no to the queen's brother, of course, so that had settled the matter, but Stark had not been happy. â€Å"You will not like the ride, I promise you that,†he'd said curtly, and since the moment they set out, he had done all he could to live up to that promise. By the end of the first week, Tyrion's thighs were raw from hard riding, his legs were cramping badly, and he was chilled to the bone. He did not complain. He was damned if he would give Benjen Stark that satisfaction. He took a small revenge in the matter of his riding fur, a tattered bearskin, old and musty-smelling. Stark had offered it to him in an excess of Night's Watch gallantry, no doubt expecting him to graciously decline. Tyrion had accepted with a smile. He had brought his warmest clothing with him when they rode out of Winterfell, and soon discovered that it was nowhere near warm enough. It was cold up here, and growing colder. The nights were well below freezing now, and when the wind blew it was like a knife cutting right through his warmest woolens. By now Stark was no doubt regretting his chivalrous impulse. Perhaps he had learned a lesson. The Lannisters never declined, graciously or otherwise. The Lannisters took what was offered. Farms and holdfasts grew scarcer and smaller as they pressed northward, ever deeper into the darkness of the wolfswood, until finally there were no more roofs to shelter under, and they were thrown back on their own resources. Tyrion was never much use in making a camp or breaking one. Too small, too hobbled, too in-the-way. So while Stark and Yoren and the other men erected rude shelters, tended the horses, and built a fire, it became his custom to take his fur and a wineskin and go off by himself to read. On the eighteenth night of their journey, the wine was a rare sweet amber from the Summer Isles that he had brought all the way north from Casterly Rock, and the book a rumination on the history and properties of dragons. With Lord Eddard Stark's permission, Tyrion had borrowed a few rare volumes from the Winterfell library and packed them for the ride north. He found a comfortable spot just beyond the noise of the camp, beside a swift-running stream with waters clear and cold as ice. A grotesquely ancient oak provided shelter from the biting wind. Tyrion curled up in his fur with his back against the trunk, took a sip of the wine, and began to read about the properties of dragonbone. Dragonbone is black because of its high iron content, the book told him. It is strong as steel, yet lighter and far more flexible, and of course utterly impervious to fire. Dragonbone bows are greatly prized by the Dothraki, and small wonder. An archer so armed can outrange any wooden bow. Tyrion had a morbid fascination with dragons. When he had first come to King's Landing for his sister's wedding to Robert Baratheon, he had made it a point to seek out the dragon skulls that had hung on the walls of Targaryen's throne room. King Robert had replaced them with banners and tapestries, but Tyrion had persisted until he found the skulls in the dank cellar where they had been stored. He had expected to find them impressive, perhaps even frightening. He had not thought to find them beautiful. Yet they were. As black as onyx, polished smooth, so the bone seemed to shimmer in the light of his torch. They liked the fire, he sensed. He'd thrust the torch into the mouth of one of the larger skulls and made the shadows leap and dance on the wall behind him. The teeth were long, curving knives of black diamond. The flame of the torch was nothing to them; they had bathed in the heat of far greater fires. When he had moved away, Tyrion could have sworn that the beast's empty eye sockets had watched him go. There were nineteen skulls. The oldest was more than three thousand years old; the youngest a mere century and a half. The most recent were also the smallest; a matched pair no bigger than mastiff's skulls, and oddly misshapen, all that remained of the last two hatchlings born on Dragonstone. They were the last of the Targaryen dragons, perhaps the last dragons anywhere, and they had not lived very long. From there the skulls ranged upward in size to the three great monsters of song and story, the dragons that Aegon Targaryen and his sisters had unleashed on the Seven Kingdoms of old. The singers had given them the names of gods: Balerion, Meraxes, Vhaghar. Tyrion had stood between their gaping jaws, wordless and awed. You could have ridden a horse down Vhaghar's gullet, although you would not have ridden it out again. Meraxes was even bigger. And the greatest of them, Balerion, the Black Dread, could have swallowed an aurochs whole, or even one of the hairy mammoths said to roam the cold wastes beyond the Port of Ibben. Tyrion stood in that dank cellar for a long time, staring at Balerion's huge, empty-eyed skull until his torch burned low, trying to grasp the size of the living animal, to imagine how it must have looked when it spread its great black wings and swept across the skies, breathing fire. His own remote ancestor, King Loren of the Rock, had tried to stand against the fire when he joined with King Mern of the Reach to oppose the Targaryen conquest. That was close on three hundred years ago, when the Seven Kingdoms were kingdoms, and not mere provinces of a greater realm. Between them, the Two Kings had six hundred banners flying, five thousand mounted knights, and ten times as many freeriders and men-at-arms. Aegon Dragonlord had perhaps a fifth that number, the chroniclers said, and most of those were conscripts from the ranks of the last king he had slain, their loyalties uncertain. The hosts met on the broad plains of the Reach, amidst golden fields of wheat ripe for harvest. When the Two Kings charged, the Targaryen army shivered and shattered and began to run. For a few moments, the chroniclers wrote, the conquest was at an end . . . but only for those few moments, before Aegon Targaryen and his sisters joined the battle. It was the only time that Vhaghar, Meraxes, and Balerion were all unleashed at once. The singers called it the Field of Fire. Near four thousand men had burned that day, among them King Mern of the Reach. King Loren had escaped, and lived long enough to surrender, pledge his fealty to the Targaryens, and beget a son, for which Tyrion was duly grateful. â€Å"Why do you read so much?†Tyrion looked up at the sound of the voice. Jon Snow was standing a few feet away, regarding him curiously. He closed the book on a finger and said, â€Å"Look at me and tell me what you see.†The boy looked at him suspiciously. â€Å"Is this some kind of trick? I see you. Tyrion Lannister.†Tyrion sighed. â€Å"You are remarkably polite for a bastard, Snow. What you see is a dwarf. You are what, twelve?†â€Å"Fourteen,†the boy said. â€Å"Fourteen, and you're taller than I will ever be. My legs are short and twisted, and I walk with difficulty. I require a special saddle to keep from falling off my horse. A saddle of my own design, you may be interested to know. It was either that or ride a pony. My arms are strong enough, but again, too short. I will never make a swordsman. Had I been born a peasant, they might have left me out to die, or sold me to some slaver's grotesquerie. Alas, I was born a Lannister of Casterly Rock, and the grotesqueries are all the poorer. Things are expected of me. My father was the Hand of the King for twenty years. My brother later killed that very same king, as it turns out, but life is full of these little ironies. My sister married the new king and my repulsive nephew will be king after him. I must do my part for the honor of my House, wouldn't you agree? Yet how? Well, my legs may be too small for my body, but my head is too large, although I prefer to think it is just large eno ugh for my mind. I have a realistic grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses. My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind . . . and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.†Tyrion tapped the leather cover of the book. â€Å"That's why I read so much, Jon Snow.†The boy absorbed that all in silence. He had the Stark face if not the name: long, solemn, guarded, a face that gave nothing away. Whoever his mother had been, she had left little of herself in her son. â€Å"What are you reading about?†he asked. â€Å"Dragons,†Tyrion told him. â€Å"What good is that? There are no more dragons,†the boy said with the easy certainty of youth. â€Å"So they say,†Tyrion replied. â€Å"Sad, isn't it? When I was your age, used to dream of having a dragon of my own.†â€Å"You did?†the boy said suspiciously. Perhaps he thought Tyrion was making fun of him. â€Å"Oh, yes. Even a stunted, twisted, ugly little boy can look down over the world when he's seated on a dragon's back.†Tyrion pushed the bearskin aside and climbed to his feet. â€Å"I used to start fires in the bowels of Casterly Rock and stare at the flames for hours, pretending they were dragonfire. Sometimes I'd imagine my father burning. At other times, my sister.†Jon Snow was staring at him, a look equal parts horror and fascination. Tyrion guffawed. â€Å"Don't look at me that way, bastard. I know your secret. You've dreamt the same kind of dreams.†â€Å"No,†Jon Snow said, horrified. â€Å"I wouldn't . . . â€Å" â€Å"No? Never?†Tyrion raised an eyebrow. â€Å"Well, no doubt the Starks have been terribly good to you. I'm certain Lady Stark treats you as if you were one of her own. And your brother Robb, he's always been kind, and why not? He gets Winterfell and you get the Wall. And your father . . . he must have good reasons for packing you off to the Night's Watch . . . â€Å" â€Å"Stop it,†Jon Snow said, his face dark with anger. â€Å"The Night's Watch is a noble calling!†Tyrion laughed. â€Å"You're too smart to believe that. The Night's Watch is a midden heap for all the misfits of the realm. I've seen you looking at Yoren and his boys. Those are your new brothers, Jon Snow, how do you like them? Sullen peasants, debtors, poachers, rapers, thieves, and bastards like you all wind up on the Wall, watching for grumkins and snarks and all the other monsters your wet nurse warned you about. The good part is there are no grumkins or snarks, so it's scarcely dangerous work. The bad part is you freeze your balls off, but since you're not allowed to breed anyway, I don't suppose that matters.†â€Å"Stop it!†the boy screamed. He took a step forward, his hands coiling into fists, close to tears. Suddenly, absurdly, Tyrion felt guilty. He took a step forward, intending to give the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder or mutter some word of apology. He never saw the wolf, where it was or how it came at him. One moment he was walking toward Snow and the next he was flat on his back on the hard rocky ground, the book spinning away from him as he fell, the breath going out of him at the sudden impact, his mouth full of dirt and blood and rotting leaves. As he tried to get up, his back spasmed painfully. He must have wrenched it in the fall. He ground his teeth in frustration, grabbed a root, and pulled himself back to a sitting position. â€Å"Help me,†he said to the boy, reaching up a hand. And suddenly the wolf was between them. He did not growl. The damned thing never made a sound. He only looked at him with those bright red eyes, and showed him his teeth, and that was more than enough. Tyrion sagged back to the ground with a grunt. â€Å"Don't help me, then. I'll sit right here until you leave.†Jon Snow stroked Ghost's thick white fur, smiling now. â€Å"Ask me nicely.†Tyrion Lannister felt the anger coiling inside him, and crushed it out with a will. It was not the first time in his life he had been humiliated, and it would not be the last. Perhaps he even deserved this. â€Å"I should be very grateful for your kind assistance, Jon,†he said mildly. â€Å"Down, Ghost,†the boy said. The direwolf sat on his haunches. Those red eyes never left Tyrion. Jon came around behind him, slid his hands under his arms, and lifted him easily to his feet. Then he picked up the book and handed it back. â€Å"Why did he attack me?†Tyrion asked with a sidelong glance at the direwolf. He wiped blood and dirt from his mouth with the back of his hand. â€Å"Maybe he thought you were a grumkin.†Tyrion glanced at him sharply. Then he laughed, a raw snort of amusement that came bursting out through his nose entirely without his permission. â€Å"Oh, gods,†he said, choking on his laughter and shaking his head, â€Å"I suppose I do rather look like a grumkin. What does he do to snarks?†â€Å"You don't want to know.†Jon picked up the wineskin and handed it to Tyrion. Tyrion pulled out the stopper, tilted his head, and squeezed a long stream into his mouth. The wine was cool fire as it trickled down his throat and warmed his belly. He held out the skin to Jon Snow. â€Å"Want some?†The boy took the skin and tried a cautious swallow. â€Å"It's true, isn't it?†he said when he was done. â€Å"What you said about the Night's Watch.†Tyrion nodded. Jon Snow set his mouth in a grim line. â€Å"If that's what it is, that's what it is.†Tyrion grinned at him. â€Å"That's good, bastard. Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it.†â€Å"Most men,†the boy said. â€Å"But not you.†â€Å"No,†Tyrion admitted, â€Å"not me. I seldom even dream of dragons anymore. There are no dragons.†He scooped up the fallen bearskin. â€Å"Come, we had better return to camp before your uncle calls the banners.†The walk was short, but the ground was rough underfoot and his legs were cramping badly by the time they got back. Jon Snow offered a hand to help him over a thick tangle of roots, but Tyrion shook him off. He would make his own way, as he had all his life. Still, the camp was a welcome sight. The shelters had been thrown up against the tumbledown wall of a long-abandoned holdfast, a shield against the wind. The horses had been fed and a fire had been laid. Yoren sat on a stone, skinning a squirrel. The savory smell of stew filled Tyrion's nostrils. He dragged himself over to where his man Morrec was tending the stewpot. Wordlessly, Morrec handed him the ladle. Tyrion tasted and handed it back. â€Å"More pepper,†he said. Benjen Stark emerged from the shelter he shared with his nephew. â€Å"There you are. Jon, damn it, don't go off like that by yourself. I thought the Others had gotten you.†â€Å"It was the grumkins,†Tyrion told him, laughing. Jon Snow smiled. Stark shot a baffled look at Yoren. The old man grunted, shrugged, and went back to his bloody work. The squirrel gave some body to the stew, and they ate it with black bread and hard cheese that night around their fire. Tyrion shared around his skin of wine until even Yoren grew mellow. One by one the company drifted off to their shelters and to sleep, all but Jon Snow, who had drawn the night's first watch. Tyrion was the last to retire, as always. As he stepped into the shelter his men had built for him, he paused and looked back at Jon Snow. The boy stood near the fire, his face still and hard, looking deep into the flames. Tyrion Lannister smiled sadly and went to bed.
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
Importance of Reading Essay
Reading has at all times and in all ages been a source of knowledge, of happiness, of pleasure and even moral courage. In today’s world with so much more to know and to learn and also the need for a conscious effort to conquer the divisive forces, the importance of reading has increased. In the olden days if reading was not cultivated or encouraged, there was a substitute for it in the religious sermon and in the oral tradition. The practice of telling stories at bed time compensated to some extent for the lack of reading. In the nineteenth century Victorian households used to get together for an hour or so in the evenings and listen to books being read aloud. But today we not only read, we also want to read more and more and catch up with the events taking place around us. The various courses and classes being conducted in rapid reading support this belief. The amount of reading one should get through is of course nobody’s business. There is no end to it for there is a variety of subjects to read about. The daily newspaper or the popular magazine while it discusses topical issues and raised controversies, it also provokes thought and throws light on human nature. It brings the news of wars, rebellions, organizations, political stances, heroic deeds etc. , together and helps knit a world of some sort. There is then the serious reading undertaken for research and for satisfying one’s longing for knowledge. It may be a subject of scientific significance, or a subject of historic or philosophic importance – varying according to the taste of the person. This kind of reading disciplines the mind and trains one for critical and original thinking. There is yet another kind of reading -reading for pleasure. Though serious reading is also a source of pleasure, reading which is devoted mainly to it differs in one respect. It grows upon one, it gives before demanding and it soothes and relieves tension and loneliness. The only kind of reading which neither stimulates thought nor provides knowledge is one which is approached negatively, with the simple motive of escape and of â€Å"killing†time. A person who is widely read is able to mix with others: he is a better conversationalist than those who do not read. He can stand his ground. Reading broadens the vision. it is in a way a substitute for travel. It is not possible to travel as much as one would like to and reading can fill in the gap created by the lack of travel. â€Å"Reading†, as Bacon wrote in his essay. ‘Of Studies’. â€Å"maketh a full man: conference a ready man: and writing an exact man†. Thus a widely-read man is a better conversationalist and is able to see the other point of view. Literature is a form of art which can cross barriers and if one does not know the language in which a piece of literature is written, one is willing sometimes to learn the language. Even if one does not learn a language one reads the literary work in translation. This contributes to the growth of understanding and tolerance amongst people. Reading also helps one to see the present in relation to the past and the future, and thus develop a historical perspective. Care is needed to ensure that reading does not become a substitute for real life. The moment one ceases to enjoy the ordinary pleasures and happiness of life and is content to enjoy them vicariously through fictional and historical representations, one loses all the benefits of reading and loses contact with life. With the cinema and television taking up a great deal of attention of children, teenagers and even adults, the habit of serious reading is dying out. People are content to read abridged versions. see films, go through illustrated comics and be content. But just as reading should not become a substitute for the joy of living or drive out the other forms of entertainment, other substitutes should not be accepted for the pleasure of reading which lies in the act itself. One may be selective, may be discriminating but no one can afford to shut himself off from this rich and ever-growing world of literature.
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