"The international relations of Germany between 1870 - 1914 were influenced solelyby the need to preserve the new nation state of Germany." How far do you agree withthis statement?

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German Foreign Policy 1870 - 114.

During the 44 year period between 1870 and 114 Germany pursued one

set of foreign policies under Bismarck and another under William II.

Bismarck, the man who shaped the newly united Germany, controlled

German foreign policy until 180 and was heavily influenced in his

decisions on foreign policy to keep the peace in Europe and thereby

guarantee the security of Germany.

For example one of the main thrust of Bismarck's foreign policy was to

ensure that France had no allies and was kept isolated. Bismarck

evidently pursued this goal to prevent a repeat of the Franco - Prussian

war (something Bismarck believed was contrary to German interests) and

did his best to try to divert ...the fiery steed of French ambition... away

from their territorial losses in Alsace and Lorraine. Bismarck's desire to

keep the peace in Europe was also part of his attempt to keep France

isolated; A crisis could polarise the Great Powers and France could gain

an ally. In constructing a complex web of secret agreements and

alliances Bismarck bound virtually the whole of Europe together, -

excluding France and Germany - another way of securing European

peace and therefore Germany's security. Bismarck's foreign policy was

never 100% consistent; he was perfectly prepared to change his mind to

suit the circumstances or a change in his power base at home.

By 180 Bismarck's system of alliances and agreements was falling apart

and Bismarck fell from office. He succeeded in keeping Germany free

from conflict that would threaten her newly established unity. This was

his main motivating force in terms of German foreign policy.

After Bismarck left Germanys political scene the power vacuum was

filled, not by his successor as chancellor but by William II, who was

determined to take a much greater part in the governing of Germany.

The Kaiser saw himself as an international statesman, something he

wasn't, and his diplomatic blunderings often produced an effect opposite

to the one intended. William II did not seem to recognise the importance

of keeping on good terms with Russia and only years after Bismarck's

departure from office, Germany had turned down a Russian offer to

renew the re-insurance treaty and this resulted in an alliance between

Russia and France, something blatantly contrary to German interests.

Although there was a brief improvement in relations with Britain on the

whole the Kaiser seemed to have a knack for creating international

tension and souring relations with the other European powers - bar those

in the Triple alliance. The Kaiser seemed incapable of recognising any

threat to Germany and his foreign policy appears to have been mainly

motivated by a desire to see Germany (and himself) as a leading figure

on the world stage. The Kaiser's mistakes were largely unintentional and

he did try to rectify the mistake of abandoning Russia as an ally in 105,

but in general the Kaiser was a shadow of Bismarck as a statesman and

could not halt Germany's slide into a pan-European war.

Under Bismarck it can be said that Germany's foreign policy was

motivated almost entirely by a the need to preserve the new nation state

of Germany. However under William II Germany made more enemies

than friends in Europe and he led Germany into a war that was disastrous

for her. So it can be said that Germany's foreign policy between 1870 -

114 was not influenced solely by the need to preserve the new nation

state.

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Half of the early command

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Delivering his keynote paper to the International Game Cultures Conference, Espen Aarseth identified 001 as the first year of video game studies. His statement was confirmed in many ways by the grandiose scale of the event, bringing together an international community of video gamers and academics to discuss this new and exciting discipline.

For Jesper Juul, Aki Jarvinen and Espen Aarseth the terminology of video game theory had to be drawn from the language of 'play'. However, the concept of theory being intertwined with play/pleasure appeared unexpectedly problematic for some academics. Even the field of ludology in which Juul and Jarvinen situated themselves was new and unfamiliar to many at the conference. Although not entirely incompatible, the narratological perspective adopted by Henry Jenkins and Greg Smith did not sit well with ludology. Similar tensions arose where methodology was called into question. Ethnographic studies presented by T.L. Taylor, Kirsty Horrell, David Buckingham and Julian Sefton-Green emphasied the benefits and the limitations of conducting empirical research into video games.

Henry Jenkins's opening keynote address was a productive enterprise in applying film-theory to video games. Using the phrase, 'an art of narrative architecture', he described the relationship between games and cinema as a two-way process where both media share aesthetic devices along with a similar cultural status. As vessels of a so-called 'popular aesthetic', cinema and video games exist somewhere in between a continuum of pure convention and pure invention. Jenkins argued that they are both in a constant process of movement between the conventional and experimental, and between urban and technological worlds.

As objects of comparison, Jenkins selected two texts of 'pure invention', namely Sergei Eisenstein's cinematic masterpiece Battleship Potemkin (15) and the critically acclaimed computer game The Sims (001). Both texts were united by the presence of what Jenkins termed 'micro narratives'. A still from the famous Odessa Steps sequence of Battleship Potemkin is composed of a number of micro-narratives. A revolutionary waving a flag or a defeated Tsarist lying dead on the ground, both tell a simple story and also threaten to undermine the importance of any unifying narrative. In The Sims, micro narratives dominate as simple events adjust and change according to the actions of the player. This kind of narrative is termed 'emergent' because it has no predetermined outcome. On the opposite side there are 'embedded' stories; narratives that cannot be manipulated by the player. This second definition seems slightly problematic given that most games will have at least two possible outcomes dependent upon success or failure. If this is true, then why is there any benefit from making such a distinction? Furthermore, the absence of textual examples from the 'conventional' end of the spectrum perhaps signified the privileging of invention and innovation. This was just one example at the conference where one could observe the transference of a high culture/low-culture hierarchy from cinema to videogames.

Espen Aarseth's initial argument that 'game theory' should be separated from film theory, psychology and physiology seemed far from pragmatic. This is not to say that Aarseth believes games theory can exist independently from other academic fields. Arguably it is the 'fear of playing' implicit in these disciplines that leads him to reject them.

Another significant tension between Jenkins's and Aarseth's papers was the importance of narrative. Presenting examples of games without narratives such as Tetris (18), Furby (1) and Anarchy Online (001), Aarseth questioned the valorising of games that attempt to tell stories. But arguing that the agendas of games and stories are incompatible is more difficult than might be expected. Arguably, it is not an over-reliance on narrative that makes a game like Myst (1) awkward and lacking in playability, but rather an over-reliance on cinematic convention and mise-en-scene. Myst might have been an excellent game had it maintained the same storyline but improved its storytelling techniques (i.e. game engine).

Similarly, it is possible to argue that games with only an abstract relation to the real world still possess a kind of basic narrative. As a critic observed in the closing questions, even the simplest of actions such as a block falling in a game of Tetris can constitute a kind of micro-narrative. Perhaps Aarseth could have made a more conclusive argument had he considered why other communicative methods (film, literature, word-of-mouth, etc.) might be more appropriate for storytelling than video games. Arguably, no story exists in isolation from the means by which it is communicated and whilst video games change the nature of storytelling they are perhaps no less effective tools than the spoken word.

The paper delivered by Jesper Juul represented a compromise between ludology and narratology. In a refreshing attempt to define what we mean by 'games', he used the step-by-step development of a simple program like Pac-Man as an example. Drawing from existing theories by Chris Crawford, Juul argued that games are 1) a means of representation delineated as 'unreal' or separate from the material world, ) rule-based, ) loaded with criteria for evaluating performance and 4) lacking in any material outcome. In terms of the development of Pac-Man, the eponymous hero is a somewhat abstract representation of the player, occupying a simple representation of space (i.e. a blue box). Pac-Man can move around this space freely but cannot move outside it. However, this does not yet constitute a game. Juul added a system of rules by including a maze for Pac-Man to move around. It was only with the final addition of 'Ghosties' and 'power-pills' for Pac-Man to eat that the game attained criteria for success or failure and thus became complete.

It is the absence of a material outcome and the representation of physical space that aligns a game like Pac-Man with narratological theory. On the other hand, the concept of rules and goal-orientated play seems largely incompatible with traditional story-telling. One of Juul's most important observations is that as a player becomes more focused on a particular game, narrative and representation can often become subordinate to an awareness of rules and performance. This argument appears sound, however, more empirical work into the act of game-play needs to be done before such an observation is confirmed.

If a general lack of empiricism could be considered one of the weaknesses of the conference, then another would have to be an occasional absence of self-reflexivity, particularly when it came to the theorists' own experience as games-players. Although largely anecdotal, evidence of a 'fear of playing' could be observed during a Pac-Man tournament on the first day of the conference. Out of nearly eighty delegates, only three were willing to participate in the game. It is conceivable that more would have played the game had there not been such a large group of spectators. Other delegates might have been simply demonstrating their gaming preferences by avoiding Pac Man. Indeed, it is important to question whether it is essential that games theorists should experience the act of playing.

During Greg Smith's narratological analysis of the role-playing-game Final Fantasy 7, he made several claims about the relationship between audience and text. With particular reference to emotion and pleasure he cited Noel Carroll's work on horror film audiences. According to Carroll, the emotional responses of horror audiences are supposed to mimic those of the on-screen 'victim' in a kind of empathy. Arguably, Smith's detailed knowledge of Final Fantasy 7 was largely drawn from his personal experience of playing the game. It appears that one not only attains deeper knowledge of the video game text through playing but one is also able to relate the experience with a greater sense of enthusiasm and passion.

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Workplace Diversity

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Pharmacia has many different types of organizational cultures. James Quick (1) argued that culture begins with the values and beliefs that people hold. (p. 57) Pharmacia needs organization to keep their operation running smoothly.

Over the years Pharmacia's organizational culture has changed in many ways. In the year of 1 Upjohn which then Monsanto and Pharmacia had merged turning the name to Pharmacia bought out Monsanto. Pharmacia had received its name in June of 000. The reason that Monsanto and Upjohn merged was because Monsanto was in a deep financial crisis. Once the merger took place the company decided to reorganize the company. Many employees were loosing jobs due to the merger.

Since the merger Pharmacia is currently bringing in contract employees for the first ninety days on a trial basis. This can be a good thing or it can be bad. One of the good ways to look at being a contract employee is to see if you really like working for the company. Many employers are doing this to see if the employee will be a good fit for the company. On the other hand Pharmacia has been abusing contract employees because employees start a position with high aspirations and expectations of becoming a permanent. In the past at the company that I work for, employees have been contractors for months at a time without getting a chance of becoming permanent. Currently that rule has changed to when you are a contract employee longer than three months Pharmacia must either decide to keep the employee permanent or end your contract.

This part of this organizational culture is inclusive. I am pretty fortunate for the job I have and the working condition that I work in. Because I am contract the company treats me as a regular employee. Everyone that I work with is friendly and is willing to help you with whatever task that needs to be done. You are able to work without someone breathing over your neck and be willing to work independently as long as you get your job done. No need to worry about getting an earful from your boss. In some cases if your not meeting up to your bosses expectations you have to reason with him or her. Let them hear you side of the story. Then ask what their expectations should be. In my working environment I feel that people interact on a professional level at Pharmacia. But you are still able to have fun at what you do. You can be your self and feel comfortable while you are working and not feel inferior. This is a professional environment and I do not have to worry about your fellow coworkers spreading roomers around the office.

The employee and employer relationship seems to be a pretty relaxed environment. You are able to feel comfortable around upper management. I can say what is on my mind without the fear of losing my job. My bosses are pretty diverse when it comes to new ideas. Any time I make a suggestion they are always up to listen. Sometimes they use my idea and sometimes they do not.

Pharmacia has to be the most enjoyable company to work for. Because when the company holds company functions, the contract employees are able to attend them as well. Contract employees do not have to feel that they are the minority. People that I work with are friendly and you feel uncomfortable. Everyone can be there self's and work in a relaxed working environment. You are able to make mistakes without getting a prison sentence. I have had many jobs and I have found that this has been the most rewarding job I have ever had. I am able to come to work to do my job without anyone breathing over my neck and snooping in my business.

Every work place has something that is not so pleasant about the working environment. For instance I do not enjoy getting to work late which causes me to not find a parking spot. When I have a million things to do theirs people that I assist that expect me to take care of their needs before anyone else that was first priority? Noticing over the past few months I've realized that I had to change my way of thinking because I thought that I could go in their and make the company know my way of things and that wasn't the case. Organizational culture has not really affected my work. Because by the way Pharmacia's structure is it's taught me to be better worker. Everyone has their own way of doing things and it is hard to go into a company and tell them that they need to change some things. People hate change because their comfortable with the way things has been. When one little change would occur the company thinks that it would be a bad idea for the company. In order to have companies be successful they have to have been diverse. More and more companies should listen to their employees about new ideas to make the company a better place to work.

References

James Quick (1) Crafting an Organizational Culture Herbs's Hand at Southwest Airlines 51. 57.

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Grey

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Look, I know Im not supposed to pick up hitchers. Its not smart for me, and its not smart for the hiker. But it was a rainy afternoon, and the guy up the road looked really dejected. He was somewhat small anyway, and his shoulders slumped over as he slogged through the mud. All alone in the half-dark like that, he reminded me of my cat when I had rescued him as a stray from a sudden downpour. The kid had a yellow poncho on and wasnt carrying any bag or even a gas can. I supposed he was just walking some short distance, and I could drop him off and be on my way in five minutes. I pulled over and lowered the passenger window. Where you headed? The guy leaned down and looked in through the opened window. Except it wasnt a guy. She was maybe twenty or twenty-one, and she was soaked like she wasnt wearing the plastic poncho at all. If theres anything that makes my heart melt more than a kitten in a rainstorm, its a beautiful young woman in a rainstorm. The look in her eyes told me that she knew it wasnt smart taking rides on the back roads, even if Lincoln. But it also told me she wanted desperately to get out of the rain. Im going west, she said. Nice and specific. Im going cross-country to California on business. She considered that for a moment. I tried to look non-threatening, without looking like I was trying to look non-threatening, you know? I was concerned about this girl, with nothing but what she was wearing, trying to reach an unknown destination. But if I frightened her off, I wasnt going to do any good. She looked into my face, then back down the road in both directions. Visibly, she came to her decision. Okay. I unlocked the passenger doors and told her to put her poncho on the back floorboard. She did and got in, putting her purse between herself and the passenger door. She stared out the window at the passing countryside and at the patterns the rain and wind made on the glass. She could also probably look at my reflection that way, too. Checking me out.

Obviously, she didnt feel like talking. That was fine with me. For about half an hour we were like that, me trying not to look at her, her trying to hide the fact that she was looking at me. I had the radio turned down in case she wanted to talk, but she didnt want to talk. But you know how it is when two people are in a car, you have to talk or the silence grows oppressive. So whats west? I asked at last. She finally turned her head to me. What? I said, whats west. Oh. My parents. They live in Seattle. I see, I replied, knowingly, but still in the dark. She looked too old to be a runaway trying to get back home. And she didnt have that tired, wary look I had seen in news documentaries. Maybe she was just down on her luck, trying to get to a support system on her own. I shrugged inwardly and concentrated on driving. She didnt seem inclined to volunteer more information, so I turned the radio back up. The local public radio station was on, and I heard the last minute or two of something by Bach, I dont know which piece, but hes one of the few composers I can recognize without a program. They thanked the sponsors, and mentioned my companys name. I pointed at the radio and said, Thats me. Or my company, at least. My names Mark Ferguson. Im Grace, she replied. Nice to meet you, Grace. No, not Grace. G-R-E-Y. Grey. Grey? Thats an unusual name, I commented. At least it is around here. Yeah, well. My parents were hippies, you know? The way they told me, they wanted to name me after whatever the sky was when I was born. But they happened to be in Seattle, and I was early. They couldnt really name me Overcast or Gloomy, so Grey, I finished, grinning. Exactly.

She glanced at me and I saw her smile for the first time. Her lips curled momentarily and I caught a glimpse of her white, even teeth. Then she turned back toward the window, and all I saw was her hair and half an ear. Her neck was thin and graceful, the left tendon standing out clear as her head was turned. Her hair was unstyled, hanging straight down her back. It was brunette, I suppose, when dry, with golden brown highlights. What I thought was a mans scrawny body was, instead, a young womans athletic body. Her blue work shirt was tucked tightly into baggy army fatigues not the camouflage that soldiers wear now high, pointed breasts and a stomach without an ounce of fat. She saw me staring at her, and she turned her head to stare back at me. Her face was... beautiful, but that doesnt begin to describe it. She had a high forehead and intelligent green eyes. Her nose sloped down and out, and flared outward in wide nostrils. Her lips were neither full nor thin, and always seemed to be slightly open. Her face still retained some baby fat, but her high cheekbones were just discernible. It was a face that would age well, going from pretty to beautiful to striking to handsome as the years passed. I was getting uncomfortable, and looked away. The airports coming up in a while, I said. If you want, we can call your folks. Im sure theyd be willing to wire you a ticket to Seattle. Grey stretched out her arms. Thanks, Mark, but if its alright, Ill just tag along with you for a while. Fine with me, but its going to take about three weeks for me to get to the coast. What do you do, for a living, anyway? Oh, I own a small company that makes machine tools for light manufacturers. I make the machines that make the machines that make the prizes in your cereal, is how I put it. She smiled at that. We just started writing software for companies that want to network machines from different manufacturers. Im not sure how that works, and my people tell me that in a few years everythings going to be cross-compatible, anyway. I dont know what that means, either, but itll get a foot in the door for us. I looked at her and saw her staring out the windshield, not listening anymore. Sorry. I talk too much, I know. Just tired of the quiet. Oh, yeah.

Then, for fifty or sixty miles, she told me about her life. How her parents had finally settled down after she was born, settled down too much, in fact. At fifteen, she just got tired of her life, so she decided to quit. She hit the road, heading south and east. She wasnt a runaway, she said. She just left home a little early. She knew the dangers, so she avoided big cities, where it was hard to live and easy to get into serious trouble. By the time she was seventeen, she was in North Carolina and had just sort of... stopped. At least that was how she phrased it. She floated around the state for a year or so, mostly living with college students around the Triad and Triangle, working in textile factories and restaurants. Then she met Randy. She was in love, or thought she was, and moved in with him. He had a good job as an electrician, and they were talking about getting married and starting a family. Then the recession hit. People were afraid to build, and Randys jobs dried up. There were bills to pay, more than Grey could handle. A friend of Randys got him into selling drugs. Its the kind of thing that just happens. Several of my relatives had been busted for the same thing under the same circumstances. Its really not that big a step from moonshine to marijuana to cocaine. Randy started using, and to pay for his own habit, he had to sell more. A way to make ends meet became a way to make a living. Grey was getting scared, and when Randy started selling to kids, she got angry. She decided to clear out for good. She took every penny Randy had, called the sheriff and told where he kept the drugs, and left. She left her clothes behind and just walked out. She hadnt even decided to head back to Seattle until I stopped on the road. Suddenly I thought of something. Grey, Im registered at some pretty expensive hotels for the next few days. Id better stop and cancel those, and we can stay someplace cheaper. Dont worry, she smiled, as though at a private joke. I got enough from Randy to pay for expense-account hotels for a couple of weeks, and to buy some new clothes, too. Youre sure? Im sure. Dont worry about me.

We made small talk almost all the way to Knoxville. Grey turned out to be an intelligent, witty young woman. She was widely read as far as I could tell, history and art, the sciences. I never seem to have time to read more than sales and R and D reports. Once she opened up, despite her name, she was very lively. As for me, she seemed impressed by my CD collection. She thought it was cool that an older guy like me (she grinned widely when she said that; Im only forty) would like the Chili Peppers and the Hoodoo Gurus. On the other hand, I was amazed that she was able to sing along with Battlefield Band. I told her about my family, but she was reticent to talk about hers, except to say that it had been so long since she had seen them, that she wanted to work herself up to going back home.

When we got to my hotel, I escorted her to her room. I told her when my meeting was, and that Id drop her off at a mall so she could shop for whatever she needed while I was busy. She said goodnight, and I went on up to my own room.

The next morning, we had a quiet breakfast in the hotel restaurant (separate checks, she insisted) and left. I dropped her off at a shopping center off the interstate and told her when Id be back and where to meet me. Then I went to my meeting. I dont like taking fun vacations, so every year or two, I make the circuit of the companys bigger out-of-state customers. Its a policy that pays off in repeat customers and a lot of word of mouth business, and I can write off about a third of my vacation. The meeting went well, and I went back to the shopping center, only half-expecting to see Grey there. But she was waiting for me, bags in hand, wearing a white blouse and knee-length dark red skirt, and medium heels instead of sneakers. She looked much nicer than she did in the work shirt and fatigues and maybe a couple of years older. She stepped off the sidewalk and we put her purchases in the trunk. I complimented her on her new clothes. When she thanked me, she reached up to loosen my tie a bit and said, If Im going to be travelling with you, I think I ought to look the part. Okay, this was probably a perfectly innocent remark. But at the time, I wasnt sure how to take it.

On the drive into Tennessee, I had certainly noticed how attractive she was, and had wondered what she would be like as a bed partner. But then, almost every man thinks that about almost every pretty woman he meets. The fact that my long-time lover and I had split up not long before didnt make matters any easier. But this girl was not even quite twenty yet, half my age. So I tried to put her eyes and legs and the perfume she was wearing out of my mind.

The next day was nothing but relaxation. When I vacation, I like to do absolutely nothing. Im not a work hard/play hard kind of guy. No golf or tennis, just sitting by the hotel pool, reading a book. As I said, these meetings I had scheduled for the next couple of weeks were mostly just to make sure everything was running smoothly, so I didnt have any paperwork to wade through. At any rate, I was sitting by the pool, trying to finish The Creators so I could move on to something lighter, when Grey stepped up beside me. Are you nearly through with that? she asked. I looked up to see her standing above me, wearing a soft pink one-piece bathing suit and matching knee-length wrap. I thumbed through the remainder of the book. About a hundred more pages, I think. Can I borrow it when youre through? I left my copy at Randys about half-read. Sure. This wont take long. She dropped the wrap and sat on the lounge chair beside mine. She reclined and tilted her head back, enjoying the warmth of the late spring sun. Her eyes were closed, so I took the opportunity to look closely at her. The suit was cut low front and back, and high along her hips. Her skin was smooth and just barely tanned on all the parts I could see. Her legs were well-toned, not too muscular. Her arms were the same. Her fingers were delicately crossed beneath her breasts and a smile played across her lips. I then noticed that her eyes were cracked open. I think I may have blushed as I turned my attention, but not my concentration, back to my book. I had gotten through about half a page when Grey spoke again five minutes later. Do you think its warm enough for a swim? I considered. She was probably quite beautiful when wet but not moping. I think so. She stood and untied her wrap, facing me. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye while pretending to read my book. She turned and I saw the rest of her suit, what little of it that there was. It was one of those thong suits. I could see faint, almost invisible, tan lines across her buttocks where she had worn a more respectable bikini the previous summer. She dove cleanly into the water, feet and legs together, and for a split second, that exquisite posterior was pointing skyward, filling my vision. I didnt burn with passion for her, I didnt want to possess her body; nothing so cliched. Part of me sexually appreciated the display of her body, but for another part, there was an aesthetic appreciation of the grace of her movements, of the proportions of her form. I found myself to be tantalized more than anything else. She swam possibly a dozen laps, using different strokes. I watched her the entire time, and she saw me watching her, but I didnt turn away, this time. When she came to the edge of the pool after her final lap, I was waiting for her, towel in hand. I helped her out like a gentleman and handed her the towel. You swim beautifully, I said, more softly than I meant to. Thank you.

Excuse me, Miss. We turned to find that we had been joined by the manager of the hotel. When he had our attention, he continued. Some of our patrons have requested that I ask you to change into a less revealing swimsuit, or to not use the pool. I noticed two women, about sixty years old but trying to look forty, sit down and begin talking and looking in our direction. Despite the sun hats and dark glasses, they looked like they had just come from a DAR function. It was obvious that the manager approved of Greys attire about as much as they did. For a moment, I thought Grey was going to protest, and I was eager to see it. But she didnt. All right. I was going to have lunch anyway. Would you join me, Mark? I said I would join her shortly. I wanted to stay and tell this glorified desk clerk that I would be checking out and not patronizing his hotel ever again. But Greys actions made me forget what I was going to say. She had gathered up her wrap and tanning lotion. The wrap and towel were draped over her arm, and she swung the lotion back and forth in the other hand. Her route took her right past the Daughters, but she didnt acknowledge their presence. But then the bottle of lotion flew out of her hand to land directly in front of the women. So Grey bent to pick it up. From the waist. Facing away from the women. She gave her hips a little shake, and the look on their faces as she did that made me laugh out loud. Grey winked at me and continued on inside the hotel with the most arrogant walk I have ever seen a non-feline do.

I went up to my room, half-hoping that Grey would be waiting in the hall for me, wearing that suit. She wasnt, of course. I hopped in the shower to wash off the sunscreen, dried off, dressed, and was out the door in fifteen minutes. I went down two floors to Greys room. I could hear a blow dryer running in her room, so I knocked harder on the door than usual. It hadnt been completely shut, so it swung open smoothly. I looked around the open door and saw Grey staring at me in the mirror above the sink outside the bathroom. She was completely naked. All I could see, however, were those eyes, looking out of the mirror at me. The rest was just an impression. I stammered some sort of an apology and stepped back into the hall. Grey came out not long after. Again, she was dressed conservatively, but her dress highlighted her figure. Neither of us said anything about what I might have seen. I wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful and she did, in a belted navy dress and white half-jacket but I feared she would take it as a reference to my view of her naked. If I had had more confidence, I would have, but I was looking for a clear, a very clear signal for her. Mainly because I didnt want to look foolish before her. Lunch was filled with wonderful conversation. I suppose the food was delicious, at least Grey said it was. But all my senses were concentrated on her. Sure, it sounds hackneyed, but its the truth. I was terribly fascinated by her. It wasnt really love, though the physical and emotional attraction was there. No, I was interested in the totality of Grey. Her laugh and wit, the way she whispered when she thought she might be overheard even though all we were talking about was my intinerary. I realize I havent mentioned much about Greys part of our conversations. That is because I find it impossible to isolate a short fragment for illustration. I could relate her explanation of why she both loved and hated the rain. About taking her general equivalency diploma and taking a semester of college just because people might otherwise think she had quit high school because she couldnt handle it. About her theories on the cyclic nature of history were on the road. Which do I pick and which do I ignore? I cant, so all I can do is give an overall impression of Grey, which built up slowly, evolved over the weeks, until I had this complete picture of a woman I was happy to call my friend, and possibly more. The next week went much like this. Little Rock and New Orleans. Scintillating conversations. More probably- innocent remarks from Grey, and ambiguous feelings on my part. I found myself staring at her more and more. A few times I think I caught her staring at me.

One day, out of the blue, she brought up our relationship, if I can call it that. We were watching a pay-per-view movie in my room when she just asked me flat out, Mark, how come you havent made a pass at me? This was making me uncomfortable for some reason. Maybe I thought my sexuality was being questioned. I tried to joke my way out of it. Just never got around to it I guess. Would you like me to make one now? But Grey was having none of that. Im serious. Ive been with you for ten days now, and not once have you asked me to spend the night in your room. Hell, you havent even put your hand on my knee in the car. If she wanted a serious answer, I would give her a serious answer. Of course, I had been wondering myself why i hadnt tried anything. Look, Grey, first of all, Im twice your age. That hasnt stopped other men. Then theres the fact that, when we first met, I thought I might be taking advantage of your vulnerability. She was actually indignant for a second. I am not some helpless puppy who needs your protection. I held up my hands in a conciliatory gesture. I know that now. But by the time I figured that out, I thought we were more friends than anything else. I just didnt want to damage that by making some kind of unwanted advance. Yeah. When was the last time you heard a guy say we can still be friends? The conversation just seemed to die after that. The movie ended and Grey went to her own room. Idiot! I yelled at myself inside my head. I couldnt have asked for a clearer signal than that, and I had blown it. I didnt think that Grey was the type of woman who would throw herself at a man after even such a half-hearted rebuff as I had given her. So I resolved to stop thinking of our relationship as anything more than friendship. I had just talked myself out of a potential lover, I thought. Naturally, my ambiguity resolves itself right after I shoot myself in the foot.

Dallas was covered in conventioneers. We were late getting to the hotel and discovered my reserved room had been rented. Naturally there was nothing for Grey. An hours search found one hotel room (in Dallas!), so I gave them my credit card number and we followed the directions. It was a small motel that the interstates had ignored, but there were double beds and the room was clean. Grey seemed to take the change in accommodations well. I, however, was worried. Here I finally had her in the same room with me for the entire night, and I had as much as told her I wasnt interested. How was I going to act calm? How could I broach the subject? You know, Grey, Ive changed my mind Id give my left arm to sleep with you. Sure. So I told her I was going to look up an old friend and would probably be out late and she should just go to bed without waiting up. Of course, I didnt have a friend; I just didnt want to face the next couple of hours with Grey.

After cruising around and getting lost, I found myself in the parking lot of one of those big strip clubs that cater to businessmen. Big mistake. The last thing I needed to calm my nerves was to be in the middle of a big room filled with horny convention-goers and twenty to thirty naked women. The shriners or plumbers or whatever the hell they were were crude and obnoxious, but they had lots of cash, so these tanned, bare-breasted beauties kept parading past me. They grow em big in Texas, and if they dont grow em, they can make em big. But there was this one girl. She had straight brunette hair and comparatively small breasts. Other than that, she didnt look much like Grey. But I had her do a lap dance anyway. Great invention, lap dancing. You cant touch her, but shell touch you, except where you want her to touch you. But that was okay, because I was thinking of Grey. I imagined Greys hands on my face and chest. I looked at my watch and saw it was midnight. Grey would probably be asleep, so I gave the dancer a generous tip and left. I could at least be in the same room with Grey, watch her sleep, listen to her breathe. Ill bet shes beautiful when shes asleep, I thought.

Of course, shes beautiful when shes awake. She was beautiful. And she was awake. She was watching something on television, a movie, I think. She was wearing a floor-length dressing gown of pure white, and her hair shone. Did you see your friend? she asked me. Uh, yeah, I saw him. She stood to turn the television off. I cant seem to go to sleep. Ill just go in the bathroom and read, so you can go to bed. For some reason, she was more stunning than ever, standing there in the dim light. No need. I can handle a few more hours awake. Oh. Okay. She sat back in her chair, and I sat on the bed. We just sat there, saying nothing for the longest time. I thought she might be as tense as I was. Mark, she said at last. I sat up, doing my best to look attentive. I know how you feel about me. But Im afraid I dont feel the same way. So I think its best that I go on alone. Jeez. The only thing worse than having Grey beside me and being afraid to touch her would be not having her beside me at all. Grey, you dont have to... I mean, I can control my feelings for you. She stared back at me, dumfounded. But you said you werent interested in me. Didnt you? She was attracted to me, too. The weight on my chest disappeared. Yes, I did. No, I... I mean, I did, but I didnt mean it. That is, I wasnt sure how I felt, or how you felt about me. So I took the safe way out. Like in an old melodrama, we were in each others arms. We just held each other. I was relieved more than anything else, because the self-torture was over.

The passion could come later. Right now it was enough just to know that I had her, that my feelings were reciprocated. But the passion couldnt wait for Grey. Her mouth sought mine, and, finding it, clamped tightly to my lips. The morose young woman I had picked up in the rain, the vivacious young woman who had captivated my imagination, had become the passionate young woman who was crushing me in her arms. How many more Greys were there? I was eager to find out. I returned her kisses with equal fervor. We nibbled on each others lips and exploring tongue. I inhaled her perfume. Perfume? I gently pried Greys delicious body away from mine. I looked at the dressing gown in a new light. With trembling fingers, I untied her belt. The satin robe fell open to reveal Grey, dressed for seduction in a camisole and panties, garters and stockings, all white. I wasnt sure if I wanted to seduce you or not, she explained, somewhat bashfully. I wanted to, but I wasnt sure if it was what you really wanted. You know? I know. I know exactly. When did you get these? She actually blushed, the first time Id ever seen her do that, and she was heartbreakingly beautiful. That first day in Knoxville. I had an idea. I chuckled and pulled her back to me. I let my hands roam over her. Soft satin and silk, soft skin. I felt warm fingers unbutton my shirt, soft moist lips against my chest. I suppose the swimsuit was for my benefit also? I felt her head nod against my shoulder. And the open door afterward. But you were a perfect gentleman, damn you. She nipped at my chest with her teeth. I laughed in surprise.

I took her tightly by the waist and threw her on the bed. I landed on top of her, hands and knees on either side of her, my weight just barely pressing down on her. I suppose you want some kind of barbarian, hmm? I growled menacingly and ripped at her robe. Of course, all I did was pull it off her shoulders. She just giggled. Then she gave me the most serious look she had ever given me. I just want you. We kissed again, long and deep. Grey pulled my shirt off my back and tossed it away. She ran her hands up and down my arms, touching nothing but the hairs. I never knew my arms could be an erogenous zone, and maybe theyre not, except with Grey. She explored every curve of my torso while I kissed her. My shoulder blades and the crook of my neck, every vertebra, even my love handles and short ribs. I was uncomfortable but still highly aroused by the whole thing. She unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, and I kicked off my shoes. Awkwardly, because I didnt want to break our kiss, I slid my trousers and underwear off. Now I wanted to do her. While I find sexy underwear erotically and aesthetically pleasing, its much more fun to take them off. I sat on the bed and she stood between my legs, her nylon-clad legs just barely brushing against my erect member. Her dressing gown floated to the floor, forming a small cloud around her feet. I untied the fastenings of her camisole from the bottom up, to prolong the delicious waiting before I finally saw her breasts. Ah. They were everything I imagined them to be. They stood straight out from her chest, two rounded-over cones not large enough to sag even a millimeter. The slopes formed two pink nipples that were extensions of the breasts more than separate features. I placed my mouth over the left one and sucked on it. Her skin tasted like spring, of some soap other than the antiseptic kind in the motel shower. Sweat was just beginning to form along her sternum, and I licked the moisture up on the way to her right breast. I twirled my finger around the areola of the one I had abandoned while I nibbled on the one in my mouth. Grey moved her hands up to my head and rubbed circles through my hair. Then, taking my hands in hers, she moved them down to her hips. The garters had tiny ruffles on them, something I hadnt noticed in the poor lighting. Her panties were on the outside of her garters, but I wanted to save them for last. I unclipped the garters from each stocking. It took a nice bit of feeling around since my eyes were closed so I could concentrate on the taste of her skin and the sound of her heavy breaths. When the stockings were no longer attached, I worked the clasp on the back of the belt and pulled the garters through the waistband of her panties. Again, I took her by the hips and laid her on the bed. I pulled the low-heeled slippers off her feet and placed her stockinged right foot on my shoulder. I ran my hands down her leg until I reached her stocking top. I willed myself to go no further. Using my palms, I rolled the stocking up her leg, while weaving long patterns with my fingertips along the wondrously smooth flesh of her leg. When one leg was bare, I repeated the process on the other leg, and it was even harder to stop my hands from moving up beyond her stocking top. All this time, Grey had been playing with her breasts, cupping them and rubbing her hands along the undersides, tweaking the nipples. Her hands made a few abortive movements down to her pelvis, but she was apparently forcing herself to wait like I was. But I would wait no longer. I took the waistband of her panties in the hooked fingers of each hand and pulled them down her thighs. I kept my eyes on the stark white silk. I wanted no half-glimpses of her sex. I wanted to see all of her at once. Grey was not so patient. As the panties passed her knees, she groaned in frustration and tried to kick out of them. Unfortunately, I was bringing my face down to kiss her leg at the same time. Oh, my God. Ohmygodohmygod! Suddenly Grey was like a little girl who has just broken on of her mothers crystal glasses.

My nose was numb, but I felt a trickle of warmth on my upper lip. I couldnt help myself. I burst out laughing. I laughed so hard I couldnt sit up. I collapsed on my back, still laughing. My nose wasnt numb anymore; in fact, it hurt like hell, but I laughed. Grey had gone into the bathroom and now returned with a damp cloth. She tried to wash the blood off, but I couldnt stop my head from moving as I laughed. Now, I feel like a jerk over the whole thing, but at the time, the incongruity of events had me in hysterics. Grey stood over me, hands on hips like a frustrated mother hen. Whats so funny? she demanded. I had finally been able to catch my breath. Its just that... the first time in my... life... Ive ever had someone bloody... my nose... and its the woman I love. Then I burst out again. But Grey didnt see the humor in it. She pushed against my forehead to hold me still. I was now completely out of breath, so I didnt resist much. She wiped away the blood. She touched my nose gingerly. Not broken, she muttered. It wasnt bad at all. Already the blood was clotting in one nostril, and the pain was almost completely gone. In all the confusion, I had gone soft. But looking at Greys nude body, seeing her completely for the first time, was causing things to stir again. Grey saw the process, and decided to help it along. She took my cock in her cool fingers and stroked the underside. Her fingertips felt like silk as they roamed over my lengthening shaft and wandered down to my heavy scrotum. Grey looked into my eyes as she masturbated me. She got on the bed. She spread my thighs and lay on her stomach between them. Propped on her elbows, she moved her head closer to my erection and flicked her tongue out. My cock jumped in response, making Grey smile playfully. Still fondling my balls, Grey moved her opened mouth slowly to the head of my cock. Then, even more slowly, she moved her wet lips over the crown. Heaven. Her tongue performed wonders on my flesh as her head went down on my cock. And down, and down. She didnt take me into her throat, she just moved so slowly that it seemed like she did. What she could not cover with her mouth, she stroked with her hand. And all the time, her tongue moved around and around the head of my cock, and down an obscenely long stretch of the shaft. I could do nothing but lie there and moan. My thighs twitched a few times, and my cock flexed in Greys talented mouth, but other than that, I was paralyzed, fearful that Greys mouth on me was a dream I could not recapture if I woke myself by moving. Faster than I am used to, my cock began to get that particular pre=orgasmic rigidity. My cock became so sensitive I imagined I could feel each individual taste bud on Greys twirling tongue. Confession time. It had been a long time since I had been able to go more than two rounds in a night. Time and familiarity had taken their toll in my last relationship. I ran my fingers through Greys hair and told her that, if I came now, I would probably only be able to get it up once more that night. Grey removed me from her mouth. Still lightly stroking with her hand, she said, Thats all right. Well have tomorrow night. And she kissed the seeping head of my cock. And the night after. Kiss. And the night after. Kiss. And the night after that. Then she did swallow me completely. For a second at least. I felt her begin to gag, and she quickly backed off. She sucked harder and stroked faster, with more pressure. Harder and faster, harder and faster. Now only the head was in her mouth, and her hand was a blur on my shaft. I was in sweet agony as all my senses focused on the cubic inch of my cock head. Then I exploded. Literally. All the sexual tension I had felt the previous week, all the self-torment, left me as the semen fired from the head of my cock into Greys mouth. Grey let out a muffled sound of surprise, and, bless her, made a valiant effort to swallow everything I had. But I suppose I surprised her, for the first spurts ran out from between her lips and dripped down to my balls. In a second, she was back in control and was able to swallow, and then to suck the dregs out of my rapidly softening cock. Lastly, she moved down to lick up most of what she had missed. For a few minutes, she tried to get me back up, but was only half successful. So I got up from the bed and motioned her forward. When she was lying where I had been, I moved between her own thighs. Her sex was lightly covered in dark hairs, straight, not curly. Her labia were slightly open and glistening with moisture, smooth and pinkish brown. Her clitoris was exposed and slightly larger than average, based on my own experience. Like everything else about her, it was beautiful. I moved in closer to her pussy. I blew gently on her and heard her giggle lightly. Sensitive, good. The only regret I had was that I was unable to smell her musk clearly. Her scent was mingled with that of my own dried blood. But, as Grey had said, there was tomorrow night. I moved my tongue down to her inner thigh, just where it joined her pelvis. I licked up and down the crease a few times before I moved further inward. As I moved closer to her pussy, I lingered longer at each portion of her flesh. At last, I was at my goal, what I had been dreaming about for the past nights. I flipped my tongue over the left labia, making it move in and out. Then I traced its length downward, then up the right side, stopping just short of the clitoris. Then back down again, and up the other side. Several times I did this, always avoiding the engorged bud. Greys hands were again in my hair trying to pull me up. I didnt resist. Now, I was at her clit, and I attacked it with my tongue. I lashed out at it from all sides. I brought lips and teeth into play, sucking on the organ and scraping it with my teeth. Each new element brought a new and louder gasp from Grey, who was otherwise non-vocal. I stayed down there, licking and sucking on her pussy the entire time it took my cock to recuperate without any other stimulation. Fortunately €€ or unfortunately, depending on your point of view this took about half an hour, and two or maybe three orgasms. My hands were busy on Grey. I had one to three fingers inside her pussy, stroking in and out at differing speeds. The other hand roamed over her breasts and along her stomach and thighs. I even managed to work a finger between her clenched buttocks and into her tight anus. When I was finally fully hard again, I raised myself above Grey. I kissed her lips and her tongue darted into my mouth. Put it in, she whispered. You do it, I answered. I felt her raise her legs until her knees were against my ribs. Her hand sought and found my cock and placed it at the entrance to her opening. I let myself sink into her in one smooth movement. At last. We both moaned. Slowly, I withdrew, leaving only the head inside her. Then I eased my hips forward until our pelvises touched again. Slowly, but inexorably, I built up speed. Her walls gripped me like I had never felt another woman do. God, she was tight. And wet. And hot. And wonderful. Grey wrapped her arms around my back and her legs around my waist. She pulled me tight against her, almost like she was trying to pull me completely inside her. Her little nipples bored into my chest and her heels ground into my lower back. I actually had to fight her to withdraw again, so I could enter her again. I worked my arms under her and pulled her to me. I let my weight rest upon her, and she seemed all right like that. Now only my hips and head were moving as I rhythmically fucked her and kissed her entire face. We didnt say a word as we lay there, as much of us touching the other as possible, but our kisses said it all. Greys hands and feet, her quivering stomach, told me all I needed to know. It was happening. Much sooner than I wanted. I could feel myself getting closer to climax, but I couldnt stop myself. I pushed my feet into the bed and thrust up into Grey with my whole body. Our mingled sweat let me move smoothly along Greys body as I felt lust take control of me. Faster and still faster I pounded into Grey. Part of my brain realized I might be hurting her, but the lizard brain, the visceral instinctual part didnt give a damn, it only wanted orgasmic release. Grey let out a little cry, not in pain but in passion. The lizard was taking over her, too. So I stopped resisting myself, and thrust madly into her. The room was filled with animal grunts and squeals. Absently I noticed that my nose was bleeding again, dotting Greys cheeks with my blood. I licked it up, the bitter taste driving me ever harder forward. I couldnt keep this up much longer; something had to give, eventually. Something did. My cock had reached that point where its painful to touch and painful not to touch. It was so sensitive even Greys wet pussy felt somewhat abrasive. Less than half a dozen strokes and I was gone. The cum poured out of my cock into Grey. It was, quite literally, the best orgasm of my entire life. I held still on top of Grey as all my energy drained out of me into her. I couldnt move; my arms and legs were dead. I rolled off of Grey, but still held onto her, so that were on our sides facing each other. My head was between hers and the pillow and her hair was in my mouth and nostrils, but I didnt care. The French dont call it the little death for nothing. Grey and I panted across each others neck as the sweat cooled on our bodies. My cock shrank and fell out of her. I knew I was finished for the night.

I dont know how long we lay there, holding each other, not speaking, but eventually I rolled away from her. I was exhausted, but Grey got up on one shoulder and looked down at me. She rubbed a little blood off my upper lip with her thumb. I didnt feel any more leak out, so there was no need to get up and clean my face up. Mark? Yeah? Did you mean what you said before? Whats that? That you loved me? I thought back. Yeah, I had called her the woman I love, hadnt I? Had I stepped in it again? Would I frighten her off if I told the truth? Would I drive her away if I lied? Nothing for it but to hope. Yes, I meant it.

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Stranded

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Stranded

By

Gavin Marshall

4R1

AAAAAAAAH screams of shock, distress and terror. Hectic passengers running around knocking each other over and no one can do anything about it. Children crying, people trying to keep calm, although it was hard with an unsettled atmosphere. More screams AAAAAAAH, HHHHEEEEEELLLLP. Suddenly the lights go out. Screams get louder. Oxygen masks dropped from the roof. The stewardess called out Everyone keep calm. We're doing all we can, but it got worse. The minute she uttered the words, it was like a volcano had erupted. The cold air blasted through the aircraft as it belted through the clouds. As people gasped for breath the plane hit the water and everything went silent.

The pilot, Vernon Cannon awoke in strange surroundings. He could smell the fresh salt water and could taste a gritty salty taste, as he spat the sand from his mount. The waves crashed onto the shore. He rose slowly and looked around. Hundreds and hundreds of acres of beach with an abundance of trees placed in a random manner everywhere. There were hills to the left of him, which towered high into the air.

He knew he had to find a way off this island so he started walking. As he walked he wondered if there were any survivors but it didn't really matter if there was he just wanted off the island. He approached a small cubit object lying in the sand. He picked it up and examined it. All of a sudden small jagged needles spring from the object and pierced holes into his hand AAAAAAAAH, ST he yelled. His voice echoed around the whole island. Blood started pouring from his hand. The little box was still embedded into him. He shook furiously, and the box fell into the sand and the needles disappeared. The cubic object just lay there. He took off his shirt and wrapped it around his hand very tightly, as a bandage. It was getting warn now, so he ripped his trousers in an effort to keep cool. He did not take them off completely because he did not want to be naked on a desert island. What if he turned around and discovered he was not alone. He could always jump into the water to keep cool.

He kept walking further and further until he got tired. Eventually he found a nice cool shady space under a tree. He sat down with his back against the tree. He had not come across anything after his encounter with the little shy square thing. While he sat there, he looked into the ocean wondering how he would survive. No water, no food and no company. No one to talk to. He felt like a little boy in a rd world country. No privileges. He wondered how long he would be there. Would it be days, months or even years? He dosed off in the shade.

He awoke to a very loud tapping noise. It sounded like rain. It pounded off the sand and sea. How can such good weather get so bad he wondered? He stood out in the middle of the beach and wondered how he was going to live on this island and how he was going to survive. He was drenched with rain but still he stood there thinking of what he was going to need. First he wanted food. The drops battered hard off the sand. He would need to find shelter. The noise wad deafening like boulders banging off the ground. Most of all he needed water. Where would he get fresh water? The only water he had was salty. He had an idea. He could collect the rainwater, yeah that's what he could do. He could collect it in palm leaves and use them like a bucket. What a great idea. Although, what if it didn't rain again. He sat back under the tree in disbelief. Such a great idea wasted. Without any warning what so ever, the rain stopped. It was like someone hit a switch to turn it off. He could not believe it. He gazed into the stars. Help he screamed at the tope of his voice but it was useless. He was alone on a desert island without any civilisation what so ever.

He set off the next morning to collect tools and any other useful objects he could get his hands on, which would not only help him get off the island but most importantly keep him alive. When he was walking through the trees he heard millions of what sounded like typical animal noises, but in actual fact he didn't have a clue what they were. He came across a bundle of large branches, which looked like they had fallen from a tree. He gathered them up and hiked back to the open beachfront. When he got to the beach he dumped the thick branches down and decided to trail back into the forest. While he walked deeper into land unknown to him he watched out for anything. He travelled through the forest picking up this and that for the whole entire day. It started to get dark so he thought he'd better start to head back to the beachfront. He gathered all of what he had collected during that day and thought about what he was going to do with it. Altogether he had a couple of strong vines about 10ft long which he managed to tear out of the ground, 1 thick logs, 5 reasonably large palm leaves and lots of dry leaves and twigs.

He took of the palm leaves and one of the vines and tied it around the leaves so they were in a cup shape; this was so he could collect fresh water for when it rained. This was placed in the middle of the beach. The sticks and logs were

put into the shape of a bonfire, with the dry leaves surrounding it, was placed under a tree and the other three palm leaves were placed over it so when it rained it would not get wet. He intended to light the fire with the glass on his watch by shining it in the sun and burning the dry leaves and twigs with the reflection. But still he had no shelter for himself if it rained. The night-time was kicking in and he decided to go and dose off under a tree nearby for the night.

The next again morning he awoke to a delightful surprise. He saw smoke coming from what looked like a ship deep in the water. The smoke was a tight little know on the horizon and was uncoiling slowly. Beneath the smoke was a dot, which could be a funnel. Anxiously he scampered over to the fire, threw the palm leaves off the top and started to reflect his watch off the sun and onto the sticks. Every two seconds he kept looking up to see the smoke. Then he would look at the twigs praying for them to light. Then, all of a sudden a big ball of fire exploded from the ship. He stopped and dropped his watch in the sand and looked at the sinking wreck in disbelief. It felt as if he would be trapped here on his abandoned island for the rest of his life.

Days went by without sign of any way off the island. He had nothing to build a raft and no planes or helicopters went over head. What also bothered him was he had had nothing to eat or drink for about four days. He was desperate and at the end of his tether.

As he walked on into the forest a tremendously massive bear suddenly burst out of the bushes to his left. They both stood there not making a move. The sweat was dripping of him and the bear started moving towards him. The moment grew intense and the bear lunged for him. AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH he screamed in a panicky voice. They started wrestling when all of a sudden the bear stopped and stood up. He lay there on the ground as the bear stood and looked at him. He was simulating a dead person so the bear would think it had killed him and would walk away. But the bear went over to him and started sniffing around. He kept his eyes tightly shut so the bear didn't suspect anything and tried to make as little movement as possible. After a few minutes the bear gave up and walked away, but he still lay there like a rock not moving. Another couple of minutes passed and he slowly opened his eyes examining the place thoroughly. She slowly arose from the ground and ran back to the beachfront.

The next morning he awoke to a thundering noise above the mountain. It was a helicopter. This time he was not going to let it get away. He lit the fire and he watched, as the smoke grew high into the air. He could see the helicopter hovering overhead and he started waving up at it. He could not believe it when it went straight on past the island. Once again he had blown his chance of getting away. He fell in the sand on his knees with his head on his hands. How much more could he take?

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Shakespeare

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Analyse the dramatic contribution of Mercutio in shakespears

Romeo and Juliet by refering to the play and the two film versions

In the play Mercutio is Romeos kingsman which means, related and a friend, also a courtier. The first time we meet Mercutio is in act 1 scene 4.He is in a street outside the Capulets Mansion, he is playing the fool but becomes serious when the subject of dreams comes up. Mercutio then starts talking about Queen Mab, the creator of dreams and nightmares

She is the faries midwife,and she comes

in a shape no bigger than an agate-stone.

In this speech Mercutio gets carried away easily as Romeo has to stop him

Peace,peace Mercutio,peace.He is very excitable and morbid as he talks of death alot.For example

Sometimes she driveth ore a soldiers neck,

and then dreams he of cutting foreign throats.

The next time we meet Mercutio is in Act scene 1, outside the Capulets Mansion, with Benvolio looking for Romeo.They cant find him, and while they are looking for him, they make sexual innuendos about Romeos love for Rosoline.For example

An open-arse, thou a pop rin pear Mercutio is playing on words which could have two meanings while he says this.For example he says

Circlewhich could mean magic circle of vigina.All of this shows us that Mercutio doesnt believe in love only in sex.

Then we meet him in Act Scene 4 we encounter him in the streets of Verona with Benvolio the day after the party.Mercutio and Benvolio are joking around about Romeos obsession with Rosoline.They dont realise he has spent most the night on Juliets balcony.Prior to this scene Tybolt has challenged Romeo to a duel. Benvolio and Mercutio argue over if he will accept.Mercutio shows us that he respects Tybolt

More than prince of cats.O,hes the courageous captain of compliments. In this scene the Nurse enters and Mercutio mocks the Nurse about her age and looks. For example

Farewell ancient lady.In this scene Mercutio is his normal self witty and funny.

We last see Mercutio in the play in Act Scene1, he is in a public place in a verona street, when he gets confronted by Tybolt. Benvolio tries to warn Mercutio that Tybolt is around, for example he says

I pray thee, good Mercutio,lets retire

The day is hot, the Capulets are abroad When he says this he shows us that he is afraid.Mercutio has none of it, and says he is not afraid, then Tybolt comes along and confronts him about Romeo.Mercutio is looking for a fight with Tybolt and when Romeo comes along it makes it heated.Romeo tries to make friends with Tybolt as they are now family because Romeo has just married Juliet in secret. He says

And so, good Capulet, which name i tender as dearly as mine own, be satisfied.Mercutio doesnt like seeing Romeo be made a fool of as Tybolt hits him and beats him in front of everyone. Mercutio then strikes Tybolt and Romeo tries to stop the fighting by getting in between the two. Tybolt stabs Mercutio under Romeos arm and no one sees.When Tybolt realizes what hes done he leaves. Mercutio is dying and because of his reputation of being a jocker no one believes him, they think hes playing the fool. When they realize what has happened it is to late, just before he dies he says

A plague aboth your houses.What he means when he says this is, look what your houses have done, look what your families hatred has done, also that it is there fault he is going to die.

In the film Baz Luhrman wrote, Mercutio, as usual, makes a big entrance he is out going,lively and a very changeable character.In Zeferellis version he is much more serious, for example, when the speech of Queen Mab came up he was very serious and in Baz Luhrmans he was on drugs and he got carried away,and not very serious.The way Mercutio is betrayed in Baz Luhrmans play just before the party at the Capulets mansion, he dressed up like a drag queen, and in Zeferellis play all he has is a mask.Of both versions compared together i would say that Baz Luhrmans play is much more imaginative and Zeferellis play makes Mercutio seem more mature and not as out going.

The importants that Mercutio has to the the play,is how much entertainment he adds, he is the only source of entertainment.For example

Good Peter,to hide her face,for her fans the fairer face.making puns about the nurse and her looks. As soon as he dies the play gets very serious, he is the only one that jokes around and encourages others to, and makes bawdy jokes about women.He adds to the plays plot more than any character.For example if he hadnt of taken Romeo to the party he

wouldnt of met Juliet or got challenged by Tybolt. Mercutio then got killed because of what led from the challenge and the hatred Tybolt held for Romeo after that night of the party.Romeo then seeked revenge and killed Tybolt getting himself banished from Verona. That ended up leading to Romeos death and Juliets death which ended the two family hatred for each other.

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Sylvia Plath: An analysis of "Daddy"

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The Poem Daddy, by Sylvia Plath describes the authors relationsship and feelings towards her father, that have also carried over into all of her relationships with men. In the poem her father is shown to be all powerful, Godlike. She describes her feelings that she must kill her father, but at age ten her father dies before she has the chance to do him in herself. Because of this her feelings towards him are left unresolved. These unresolved feelings lead to problms in all of her relationships with men, lead to feelings of oppression and control by men. This, I think, is the underlying theme of the poem. The struggle of a woman in a male dominated society. Now I will go through the poem stanza by stanza describing and explaining the images presented.

In the first stanza Plath describes the influence her father has over her. She describes herself as a foot living inside a shoe. The shoe being her father. She describes herself as poor and white inside the shoe. White because she is always inside the shoe, it consumes her, keeping out the air and sunlight that see needs. This is interesting because the purpose of ahoe is to protect the feet, but in her case the shoe is trapping her keeping her in a state of fear towards her father. This fear of her father is so great that she becomes barley daring to breath or Achoo. Of course it must be hard to breath while being completely covered by the shoe of her father.

In the second stanza she describes her father as Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, and as a ghastly statue. Marble is an expensive material, but it is still very cold and hard, like her father. He is impressive, but almost untouchable, like a statue. I think what she meant by a bag full of God is that her father had god-like qualities, but of course he was not a god. However, like a god, he is all powerfull in her mind, intangible, and like God she feels love for him. However, this love is seems to based in her fear of him, much like how many feel towards God.

The last line of the secaond stanza, Big as a Frisco seal carries over its meaning to the thrid stanza beginning with, And a head in the freakish atlantic. What i think these lines mean is that she sees her father as so big that he spans the continent. This further illustrates the power which she thinks her father posseses.

In the fourth stanza Plath makes reference to her fathers bithplace in Poland, a place that was destroyed by wars, wars, wars. She almost downplays her fathers importance by saying that the name of the town is common, meaning perhaps that he came from humble and simlpe beginnings. This carries over into the fifth stanza where she says ...there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I think that what this means is that there were so many like him, that maybe he wasnt as god-ike as she thought. Again she usees feet in metaphor. In this case her fathers feet are what rooted him, like a plant, to his birthpalce.

The end of the fifth stanza and throughout the sixth she descrbes one reson for the distance between her and her father, that there is a language barrier. Of course her fear of him was on reason her tongue stuck in her jaw, but in addition to this his language, german, kept him distant to her. She says, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obsene. She may be refering to the harsh sounding way that german is spoken, a harsh language for the harsh man that her father appears to be.

In the seventh and eigth stanzas she describes her feelings that she may be part Jewish, as her mother was part Jewish. She says, An engine, an engine Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Aushwitz, Belsen. These were concentration camps during WWII. Perhaps she feels that at any time her father will send her to these places because of her ancestry. This of course reinforceses her fear of her father.

In the ninth and tenth stanzas she describes her father as a Nazi. She describes his neat mustache, and his Aryan eye, brght blue, these are both references to Hitler. Aslo she uses the term Panzer-man which was a member of the German army during WWII. She further emphasises his power over her with the lines, Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Like the shoe metaphor her father is so powerful that he blocks the sunlight, he keeps her in darkness. I like how she uses God and a swastika juxtaposed.The swastika in the sky represents her father, black, evil, and full of control. On the other hand, God is good, loving, and he would have let the sunlight through. The next line, I think, is my favorite in the poem. Every woman adores a Facist, of course she is using sarcasim here. This sarcasim adds some lightness to an otherwise very dark poem.

In stanza eleven she describes a picture she found of her father. She says, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot. she is making her father out to be the devil himself, perhaps in disguise because instead of having cloven feet like the devil he has his cleft in his chin. She goes on to say that he is no less a devil for that beacuse he bit her pretty little red heart in two. I think what she meant by this was that he created in her both a love and a hate towards him.

In stanzas twelve and thirteen she describes the death of her father when she was ten years old, and her own subsequent suicide attempt at age twenty. In fact she says, AT twenty I tried to die And to get back, back, back to you. I though even the bones would do. I think she tried to kill herself because the feelings she had towards her father were left completely unresolved when he suddenly died. She felt that she had to get back to him, that something woudl be restored if she could.

In stanzas thirteen and fourteen she describes herself after attemting suicide. She says that they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. You could almost take this literally, she had fallen apart, tried to kill herself, and was then saved and glued back together. This event may have helped her a bit, perhaps by making her see that her father is gone and no longer has power over her. I think this is so beacuse she goes on to say, So daddy, Im finally through. The black telephone is off at the root, The voices just cant worm through. Again she makes reference to roots, that the black telephone (not just a telephone but a black telephone, black having bad connotations) has lost its roots, perhaps she means that her fear of her father was rooted into her, but now these roots have been disturbed. Since these roots have been disturbed the voice of her father that has been haunting her cannot get through tto her.

I said in the last paragraph that she was saved, but it appears she was not safe for long. Stanza fifteen describes a vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year this I believe is a reference to her husband. It seems as if she was alomst dependent on being controled by the men in her life. She replaces her father with her husband who drank her blood, drainning her emotionally like her father did. She even says, Daddy you can lie back now meaning that his position of power has been filled.

In the last stanza she describes how the villagers are even glad he is dead, dancing and stamping on you. Perhaps these villagers are not seperate people but extensions of her own personality. The last line, Daddy, daddy, you bastard, Im through shows the resolvment of her feelings towards her father. Of coures one could argue that these feelings are not really resloved but have just been moved from her father to her husband.

This poem is wonderful in its imagery and clearly and almost beautifully (in a dark sort of way) describes the problems that she had with her father. It is obvious that this realtionship marked her greatly. She is unable to resolve the feelings of hate and fear towards her father so instead of completely moving on she brings these feelings into her realtionship with her husband. This is why I think that the main point of the poem is the control by men by which she must always live under.

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