Education Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 500 words - 26

Training - Essay Example The creator utilizes the social class assignment of schools to underscore the point that training in America doesn't have a standard measure. There are the individuals who are more advantaged than others. The equivalent is reflected in the work segment. The school that one went to decides their presentation and, in this manner, their possibility of finding a well-paying line of work. Youngsters from poor foundations wind up performing ineffectively and do frivolous occupations last in their life. The instruction framework has assisted with advancing the social disparity in America where the rich get more extravagant, and the poor keep passing on neediness over the ages. â€Å"In the white collar class school, work is finding the correct solution. On the off chance that one amasses enough right answers, one gets a decent grade†¦Ã¢â‚¬  (Colombo, Robert, and Bonnie 180). From this announcement, obviously instruction in the United States doesn't concentrate on abilities procurement. Finding the correct solution, paying little mind to how one gets it, is sufficient to give one a passing mark. In any case, kids are likewise educated to figure out how to clarify things and think autonomously. Considerably in the wake of finding the correct solution, one must have the option to disclose to the educator how they showed up at the appropriate response. This implies one can't simply duplicate the appropriate response so as to pass assessments. The training framework urges understudies to find solutions just from their books and their educators. As it were, instructors are focal mainstays of the American training framework to upgrade its prosperity. The American training framework likewise centers around the procurement of language aptitudes by the understudies. Kids ought to â€Å"learn to talk appropriately, to compose business letters and thank-you letters, and to comprehend what things and verbs†¦.† (Colombo, Robert, and Bonnie 182). The accentuation of language in the American training framework is significant in the open area since relational abilities are basic in the working environment. Language additionally empowers the understudies to do well in different subjects since they are

Race, Ethnicity and Role of Police an Example of the Topic Government and Law Essays by

Race, Ethnicity and Role of Police Some Harlem occupants named the occasion the Million Cop March since the quantum of police power out in the city of demonstrators were equivalent to the assessed 6,500 demonstrators, where 3000 formally dressed cops completely pressed shaped a human divider around the assembly with other 250 network undertakings police in light blue polo shirts moving alongside the marchers. It was the ideal spot for the Giuliani organization to exhibit the police state activity in the minority common laborers neighborhood. (Vann, 1998) Need exposition test on Race, Ethnicity and Role of Police theme? We will compose a custom exposition test explicitly for you Continue Reprieve International in 1998 reported the lead of police power. In its United States of America: Rights for All (AI Index: AMR 51/35/98), the association set the examples of abuse including beatings by the police, unjustified shootings and the utilization of perilous techniques professing to maintain the suspects. Though just the minority of the numerous law requirement officials connected with themselves in the severe activities, Amnesty International came out with truth that almost no was done to check the abusers or anything was done to ensure that the strategies of the police didn't include superfluous power or injury. Their report likewise showed different maltreatment in certain wards or police areas. (Acquittal International, 1999) All the above models present the racial and ethnic minorities as genuinely the casualties of police offense, alongside getting exposed to bogus captures, provocations, verbal and physical maltreatment. All associations have their own way of life a nd this is valid with the police power as well. The police culture in its customary job was created as a way to keep up the equivalent status in the general public and bestow consistency yet the progressions and the various standards, desires, ceremonies and ceremonies and conventions in the police office grants diverse test. Each police organization has its own social standards, ceremonies, customs, regular language, and conventions that have gotten very solid. The occurrences of police unfortunate behavior keep on being grave in West Virginia; when gotten some information about the police job toward the West Virginia State Police Chief Howard E. Slope Jr., he suitably answered, law requirement officials place their lives on the line each and every day and manage the leftovers of society that others stay away from . Numerous officials are harmed or murdered attempting to secure the public.(West Virginia Advisory Committee to The U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, 2004, p. 2) To decrease the mischief to other people and upon themselves, police need to make speedy judgment and act expeditiously, particularly in cases, which are unpredictable and possibly hazardous and fatal. Straight forwardly law requirement officials need to play out their obligation towards the open which isn't each simple. Law has likewise offered rights to the law requirement officials to receive what is proper in certain hazardous circumstances, while catching asserted hoodlums and ensuring themselves as well as other people. It has likewise been discovered that a considerable lot of the unfriendly activities by certain cops neither structure the part nor are the portrayal of the whole police power. Be that as it may, there is no uncertainty of the way that immense number of law implementation officials in West Virginia are dedicated and are cognizant about their obligations and prosperity towards the general public and agreeing them their unforgiving and forceful utilization of their capacity is just a special case and not a standard. It was noted by the State pundits in mid 2000 that allegations in as ahead of schedule as 2000 in West Virginia has been on the expansion. In Charleston, a basic arrangement of grumbling was received however the expansion in objections on the unfortunate behavior by the cops invalidated these strategies. The State law has made it obligatory for each state police to research on any grievance relating to the utilization of the over the top power by the state troopers. In the initial 11 months of 1998 in Charleston, 24 claims were asserted on the cops, yet just seven cases were researched. When contrasted with it in the initial a half year during 2000, the Charleston Police Department utilized power multiple times with indicating their guns, utilizing their hands to get claimed hoodlums to cuff, and other forceful strategies bookkeeping to physical wounds. (West Virginia Advisory Committee to The U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, 2004) There is an inward expert standard segment inside the state police taking care of charges on police unfortunate behavior by the state cops. Be that as it may, there are impediments to its forces with the procedure starting with an official in control (OIC) who designates an examiner to start an inner enquiry in regards to the issue. The examiner gathers the proof and makes proposals with respect to the disciplinary activity to the OIC, who at that point likewise offers suggestions to the director of police, who gives an official conclusion to embrace disciplinary activity. As reaction to this assurance, the blamed official gets an opportunity to introduce a barrier at a pre-hardship hearing and offer can likewise be made by a complaint methodology managed by a regulatory law judge. These offenses show up under three classes relying upon their seriousness one, which are less extreme, also progressively serious, and thirdly those cases, which are of intense in nature. The third class o ffenses structure superfluous power during a capture/authority. In these cases director can release an official. Every city of West Virginia has a common assistance framework relying on the size overseeing the way toward testing, recruiting and keeping up the control of nation workers. Be that as it may, the officials in power themselves are not happy with the methods as there are parcel of hierarchal layers and sittings of survey board included. It was discovered that police boss solid position was insufficient to concur or differ the maltreatment of power and there is a fervent need of the great directors to hold under control the maltreatment. (West Virginia Advisory Committee to The U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, 2004) The activity of the police power if there should arise an occurrence of aggressive behavior at home relies upon the gravity of the case and if there is a reasonable justification. Especially ladies of shading and poor ladies have restricted access to the lawful procedures, and are increasingly inclined to psychological mistreatment. The customary ways other social foundations particularly police reacts to the savagery against ladies is convoluted by prejudice, thus battered ladies having a place with distinction ethnicity and race feel themselves distraught. Battered ladies as pushed by court are given less regard by investigators and judges when contrasted with her partners white lady. She is regularly disparaged as being one of those white womens nonconformists who has sold out her own while chipping away at issues like abusive behavior at home that will additionally slander and crush the men of shading who are accused of battering. (Baur, E Cayleff, 1993). It has become exposed that police commonly present lazy methodology on assault cases. Just barely any percent of assault cases researched lead to conviction. Investigators also don't have any significant bearing indistinguishable polished methodology in instances of assault from they do with different genuine offenses. Police are frequently accused for taking care of complainants particularly ladies of shading with suspicions and idleness. It was the situation covered 25th July 2007 on Lesslie Iron pole, who was 20 years of age. She was ruthlessly assaulted and was hospitalized. Police was called and researched process experienced and regardless of revealing entire episode to the police and furthermore names of the frauds engaged with assaulting her examinations arrived at a dead stop with her demise and no charges were documented against any of the heels. Equity office found that all things considered, one among each three Native American ladies will be assaulted during her lifetime and as a rule these cases would frequently go unnoticed, unreported, or uninvestigated. Local Americans are arrived in the wellbeing places where they need the office to gather DNA tests. So also are the instances of the youngster misuse. They are either unreported or more often than not under examined. It is very obvious kids and young people turns out to be obvious objective of grown-ups bringing them into the universe of wrongdoing and medication misuse while overlooking the duty they have for their security and backing. Police react appropriately and without bias and undue power on the necessities of the youngsters. There is constantly a negative generalizing on both the sides and the police must be defenseless to the difficulty from any counter, yet the fruitful policing requires the generalizations to be broken and should take vigorous, firm and powerful advances. In a considerable lot of the cases, police embraced preference approach where the gravity and the affectability of the issue is included. The policing procedure can turn into a triumph whenever supported or firm or fixed activities are embraced and they are increasingly touchy towards youth issues and their needs. Youngsters from different ethnic foundations can be associated with the procedure of network arrangements that can get to the requirements of different adolescents and take activities in like manner. To accomplish gthis point, first a wide range of generalizations should be broken and furthermore broken all the boundaries separating individuals to individuals based on the race, ethnicity or shading. Reference List Reprieve International. 1999. US OF AMERICA: RACE, RIGHTS AND POLICE BRUTALITY. Bair Barbara, Cayleff E. Susan, 1993, Wings of Gauze: Women of Color and the Experience of Health and Illness, Wayne State University Press Place for Problem Oriented Policing. Reactions to the Problem of Disorderly Youth in Public Places. Sullivan Laura, 2007, Rape Cases on Indian Lands Go Uninvestigated, http://www.npr.org/formats/story/story.php?storyId=12203114 Vann, B. 1998. The Millio

A View From the Class Andres Ochoa Toasa James Schalkwyk COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - SIPA Admissions Blog

A View From the Class Andres Ochoa Toasa James Schalkwyk COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - SIPA Admissions Blog The SIPA Office of Alumni and Development is excited to share  A View from the Class, a SIPA stories series, featuring current SIPA students, recently graduated alumni, and SIPA faculty. Andres Ochoa Toasa Andres graduated from SIPA in May 2017 with a Master in International Affairs, concentrating in Economic and Political Development (EPD) with a specialization in Advanced Economic and Policy Analysis. Here, Andres discusses his EPD workshop project and how it impacted his SIPA experience. Why did you choose SIPA and the EPD Concentration? I chose SIPA over four other graduate schools to which I was accepted because of SIPA’s international public policy focus and because SIPA has built a community that reflects global perspectives through its faculty and students. My interest in the EPD concentration grew more organically. I have a law degree specializing in human rights and my professional experience is mainly in international development. I was drawn to the EPD program, not only for the strength of its courses, but also for the depth of the workshop projects, which stand out as practical and impactful. How did you decide on your EPD Workshop? What was the process like? It was a difficult decision because there were so many choices. My development background is in youth engagement; however, at SIPA, I chose to focus my studies on courses related to monitoring and evaluation, the United Nations, and management. I applied for projects that combined these topics and were outside of my regional area of Latin America. I applied for projects based in Kosovo, Nepal, Cote d’Ivoire, and Myanmar; ultimately, choosing the project based in Kosovo. In the end, it was a very fun process because it showed me how much I had grown in two years and what continues to drive me as a development professional. How did you spend your time in Kosovo? What were some highlight experiences? In Kosovo, I worked very hard with another SIPA student on a project mobilizing young Kosovars to pursue sustainable development goals (SDGs).   We conducted all of the stakeholder analysis and interview processes, laying the groundwork for a second student group. We reached out to ministers, ambassadors, NGOs, youth movements, human right activists, journalists, and even artists to see how youth could begin mainstreaming the SDGs. One highlight experience occurred during our last meeting with an official who complimented us on our impressive understanding of youth engagement in Kosovo. In what direction do you see your career moving? How do you think the EPD Workshop contributed to your future goals? My career is now moving rapidly into international development. Through the workshop, I developed many tools and greater experience that complement my development background and professional experience and will allow me to address and take on global challenges.  James Schalkwyk James is a SIPA Fund Fellow and a second year student pursuing his Master of Public Administration, concentrating in Urban and Social Policy (USP) and specializing in Advanced Policy and Economic Analysis (APEA) and the U.S. Region. Here, James discusses his motivation for attending SIPA and his SIPA experience thus far. What did you do prior to attending SIPA? I grew up in Cape Town, South Africa, and studied music and English literature at the University of Cape Town. After interning with DARPA in Washington, DC, which focused on how to encourage private investment in interstellar space travel, I became interested in how governments and the private sector can work together to achieve technological and social breakthroughs. This led me to NASA Ames in Silicon Valley, where I worked in public-private partnerships and public and governmental affairs. In addition to putting together agreements touching all aspects of NASA’s work, my group focused on encouraging the emerging “NewSpace” industry in and around Silicon Valley. My office devised the innovative funding mechanism that gave rise to SpaceX and the Orbital Sciences Corporation, which helped renew the ability of the U.S. to service the International Space Station. The summer before coming to SIPA, I worked for the former director of NASA Ames on The Breakthrough Initiatives, a new program funded by Silicon Valley billionaire Yuri Milner, aimed at sending a probe to Alpha Centauri within a generation. Why did you choose SIPA? Several things influenced my decision to attend SIPA: I spoke to an alumnus who was extremely enthusiastic about his time at SIPA; I attended an event in San Francisco where Nobel Laureate and Columbia University Professor Joseph Stiglitz spoke to a small group about his work and our interests; and finally, and probably most importantly, I received a fellowship offer. Graduate school is a huge investment, and I cannot understate the importance of any level of financial assistance. This assistance made SIPA possible for me. How did you choose the Urban and Social Policy (USP) Concentration? Despite my experience in aerospace, I was becoming increasingly interested in domestic policy. I originally applied to the Economic and Political Development concentration; however, during my first semester, I found myself drawn to topics related to local governance. The outcome of the November U.S. elections also helped guide my decision, highlighting the importance of ensuring that government provides services and protections to the people who need them most. After choosing my classes for the spring semester, I found that almost all of them were in the USP concentration, cementing my decision to switch. What has been your experience at SIPA so far? I’ve made friends from all over the world and discovered a love for economics and statistics. This past summer, I worked with the San Francisco Mayor’s Office of Civic Innovation on city partnership programs with private companies and startups, which allowed me to get to know city government from the inside and increased my interest in “Smart Cities” and the “GovTech” space. Thanks to an opportunity through USP, this fall I will begin working part-time with the Citizen’s Budget Commission, a nonpartisan, nonprofit civic organization that attempts to influence change in the finances and services of New York City and New York State government. SIPA has both deepened my existing interests and opened up brand new vistas, and I feel more confident, engaged, and excited about the future.

Feminism Is A Very Loaded Word - 886 Words

Feminism is a very loaded word. Many people have their own definition for it. Generally, it is defined as equality between men and women. Women and men should have equality within the house and as mothers and fathers. Children rely much on mothers because of the reproductive labor that is traditionally done by them. As such, they need to be included in such a discussion. Within a household, women and men, mothers and fathers, have different roles and responsibilities, much of which are based on the person’s gender. Typically, women or mothers are â€Å"responsible for the emotional, social, and physical well-being of her family† (Lober 80), â€Å"most of the hands-on family work† (Lorber 81), and keep up of the house. The men or fathers are usually seen as the â€Å"bread winners† of the family. Due to this and the work they do outside of the house, men usually have little to no responsibilities to the family and within the home. It is not unusual for women to clean the house, make sure the children are well taken care of, and cook while the man, or father, is at work. When he gets back home, after work, it is expected for him to relax and unwind. Although they are a couple with similar obligations, the divide of them is not equally distributed among the two and offer either one different results. Not only is the work that is done within the house hold unequal, in favor of the man, women’s work is also invisible and usually unpaid. Both women who stay at home or work both haveShow MoreRelatedA Closer Look at Date Rape944 Words   |  4 Pages â€Å"Feminism has not prepared them for this,† states Camille Paglia in her essay â€Å"Rape: A Bigger Danger than Feminists Know.† The â€Å"them† in Paglia’s statement is referring to women, and she is discussing the topic of date rape. Susan Jacoby, on the other hand, writes in her article â€Å"Common Decency,† that feminism is not responsible for the rising cases of date rape, but that it is the men who are at fault. 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The women in Woman Hollering Creek try to escape the barrio through various means, such as resistance to traditional female roles and socialization, feminism, and prayer among others (Mullen 5). In the short story, Never Marry A Mexican, many aspects of marriage are discussed. Clemencia has an adult view of Esperanza’s opinion in regards to not being suppressed by Mexican males. One aspect is ClemenciaRead MoreFeminism In Jane Eyre1729 Words   |  7 Pageshroughout the history of English, Literature feminism has remained one of the central themes in many amazing works of literature. This concept represents feminine independence and self-esteem in a male-dominated society. One of the famous authors who convey this idea is Charlotte Brontà « especially in her best-selling novel Jane Eyre in which she discusses the social background of the Victorian society and its effect on women. 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Asfasf - 754 Words

1. The Second Industrial Revolution a. Explain how patterns of exchange, markets, and private enterprise have developed, and analyze ways that governments have responded to economic issues. b. Analyze how technological innovation has affected economic development and society. c. Explain how interpretations of the Constitution and debates over rights, liberties, and definitions of citizenship have affected American values, politics, and society. d. Explain how interpretations of the Constitution and debates over rights, liberties, and definitions of citizenship have affected American values, politics, and society. 2. The Transformation of the West Group 1 e. Explain how different group identities,†¦show more content†¦m. Explain how popular movements, reform efforts, and activist groups have sought to change American society and institutions. n. Explain how different beliefs about the federal government’s role in U.S. social and economic life have affected political debates and policies. Group 2 o. Analyze relationships among different regional, social, ethnic, and racial groups, and explain how these groups’ experiences have related to U.S. national identity. p. Explain the causes of migration to colonial North America and, later, the United States, and analyze immigration’s effects on U.S. society. q. Explain how interpretations of the Constitution and debates over rights, liberties, and definitions of citizenship have affected American values, politics, and society. 4. Freedom in the Gilded Age Group 1 r. Explain how different beliefs about the federal government’s role in U.S. social and economic life have affected political debates and policies. s. Explain how ideas about democracy, freedom, and individualism found expression in the development of cultural values, political institutions, and American identity. t. Explain how cultural interaction, cooperation, competition, and conflict between empires, nations, and peoples have influenced political, economic, and social developments in North America. Group 2 u. Explain how religious groups and ideas have

Warm Bodies Chapter 6 Free Essays

‘You need to corner sharper. You keep almost running off the road when you turn right.’ I crank the skinny leather wheel and drop my foot onto the accelerator. We will write a custom essay sample on Warm Bodies Chapter 6 or any similar topic only for you Order Now The Mercedes lurches forward, throwing our heads back. ‘God, you’re a leadfoot. Can you go easier on the gas?’ I come to a jerky stop, forget to push in the clutch, and the engine dies. Julie rolls her eyes and forces patience into her voice. ‘Okay, look.’ She restarts the engine, scoots over and snakes her legs across mine, placing her feet on my feet. Under her pressure, I smoothly exchange gas for clutch, and the car glides forward. ‘Like that,’ she says, and returns to her seat. I release a satisfied wheeze. We are cruising the tarmac, taxiing to and fro under the mild afternoon sun. Our hair ruffles in the breeze. Here in this moment, in this candy-red ’64 roadster with this beautiful young woman, I can’t help inserting myself into other, more classically filmic lives. My mind drifts, and I lose what little focus I’ve been able to maintain. I veer off the runway and clip the bumper of a stair-truck, knocking the Boneys’ church circle out of alignment. The jolt throws our heads to the side, and I hear my children’s necks snap in the back seat. They groan in protest and I shush them. I’m already embarrassed; I don’t need my kids rubbing it in. Julie examines our dented front-end and shakes her head. ‘Damn it, R. This was a beautiful car.’ My son lunges forward in another clumsy attempt to eat Julie’s shoulder, and I reach back and smack him. He slumps into the seat with his arms crossed, pouting. ‘No biting!’ Julie reprimands, still inspecting the car’s damage. As we circle back towards our home terminal, I notice the congregation emerging from a cargo loading gate. Like an inverted funeral procession, the Dead march out in a solemn line, taking slow, plodding steps towards the church. A clutch of Boneys leads the pilgrimage, moving forward with far more purpose than any of the flesh-clad. They are the few among us who always seem to know exactly where they’re going and what they’re doing. They don’t waver, they don’t pause or change course, and their bodies no longer either grow or decay. They are static. One of them looks directly at me, and I remember a Dark Ages etching I’ve seen somewhere, a rotting corpse sneering at a plump young virgin. Quod tu es, ego fui, quod ego sum, tu eris. What you are, I once was. What I am, you will become. I break away from the skeleton’s hollow stare. As we cruise past their line, some of the Fleshies glance at us with uninterest, and I see my wife among them. She is walking alongside a male, her hand woven into his. My kids spot her in the crowd and stand up on the back seat, waving and grunting loudly. Julie follows their gaze and sees my wife wave back at them. Julie looks at me. ‘Is that like . . . your wife?’ I don’t respond. I look at my wife, expecting some kind of rebuke. But there is almost no recognition in her eyes. She looks at the car. She looks at me. She looks straight ahead and keeps walking, hand in hand with another man. ‘Is that your wife?’ Julie asks again, more forcefully. I nod. ‘Who’s that . . . guy she’s with?’ I shrug. ‘Is she cheating on you or something?’ I shrug. ‘This doesn’t bother you?’ I shrug. ‘Stop shrugging, you asshole! I know you can talk; say something.’ I think for a minute. Watching my wife fade into the distance, I put a hand on my heart. ‘Dead.’ I wave a hand towards my wife. ‘Dead.’ My eyes drift towards the sky and lose their focus. ‘Want it . . . to hurt. But . . . doesn’t.’ Julie looks at me like she’s waiting for more, and I wonder if I’ve expressed anything at all with my halting, mumbled soliloquy. Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting? I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I’m drowning in ellipses. Julie watches me a moment longer, then turns to face the windshield and the oncoming scenery. On our right: the dark openings of empty boarding tunnels, once alive with eager travellers on their way to see the world, expand their horizons, find love and fame and fortune. On our left: the blackened wreckage of a Dreamliner. ‘My boyfriend cheated on me once,’ Julie says to the windshield. ‘There was this girl his dad was housing while the foster homes were being set up, and they got blackout drunk one night and it just happened. It was basically an accident, and he gave me the most sincere and moving confession of all time, swore to God he loved me so much and would do anything to convince me, blah blah blah, but it didn’t matter, I kept thinking about it and running it through my head and just burning with it. I cried every night for weeks. Practically wore the binary off all my saddest Mp3s.’ She is shaking her head slowly. Her eyes are far away. ‘Things are just . . . I feel things so hard sometimes. When that happened with Perry, I would have loved to be more . . . like you.’ I study her. She runs a finger through her hair and twists it around a little. I notice faint scars on her wrists and forearms, thin lines too symmetrical to be accidents. She blinks and glances at me abruptly, as if I just woke her from a dream. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you this,’ she says, annoyed. ‘Anyway, lesson’s over for today. I’m tired.’ Without further comment, I drive us home. I brake too late, and park the car with the bumper two inches into the grille of a Miata. Julie sighs. Later that evening we sit in the 747, cross-legged in the middle of the aisle. A plate of microwaved pad thai sits on the floor in front of Julie, cooling. I watch her in silence as she pokes at it. Even doing and saying nothing, she is entertaining to watch. She tilts her head, her eyes roam, she smiles and shifts her body. Her inner thoughts play across her face like rear-projection movies. ‘It’s too quiet in here,’ she says, and stands up. She starts digging through my stacks of records. ‘What’s with all the vinyl? Couldn’t figure out how to work an iPod?’ ‘Better . . . sound.’ She laughs. ‘Oh, a purist, huh?’ I make a spinning motion in the air with my finger. ‘More real. More . . . alive.’ She nods. ‘Yeah, true. Lot more trouble though.’ She flips through the stacks and frowns a little. ‘There’s nothing in here newer than like . . . 1999. Is that when you died or something?’ Another obstacle to estimating my age: I have no idea what year we’re in. 1999 could have been a decade ago or yesterday. One might try to deduce a timeline by looking at the crumbling streets, the toppled buildings, the rotting infrastructure, but every part of the world is decaying at its own pace. There are cities that could be mistaken for Aztec ruins, and there are cities that just emptied last week, TVs still awake all night roaring static, cafe omelettes just starting to mould. What happened to the world was gradual. I’ve forgotten what it actually was, but I have faint, foetal memories of what it was like. The smouldering dread that never really caught fire till there wasn’t much left to burn. Each sequential step surprised us. Then one day we woke up, and everything was gone. ‘There you go again,’ Julie says. ‘Drifting off. I’m so curious what you think about when you daze out like that.’ I shrug, and she lets out an exasperated huff. ‘And there you go again, shrugging. Stop shrugging, shrugger! Answer my question. Why the stunted musical growth?’ I start to shrug and then stop myself, with some difficulty. How can I possibly explain this to her in words? The slow death of Quixote. The abandoning of quests, the surrendering of desires, the settling in and settling down that is the inevitable fate of the Dead. ‘We don’t . . . think . . . new things,’ I begin, straining to kick through my short-sheeted diction. ‘I . . . find things . . . sometimes. But we don’t . . . seek.’ ‘Really,’ Julie says. ‘Well, that’s a fucking tragedy.’ She continues to dig through my records, but her tone starts to escalate as she speaks. ‘You don’t think about new things? You don’t â€Å"seek†? What’s that even mean? You don’t seek what? Music? Music is life! It’s physical emotion – you can touch it! It’s neon ecto-energy sucked out of spirits and switched into sound waves for your ears to swallow. Are you telling me, what, that it’s boring? You don’t have time for it?’ There is nothing I can say to this. I find myself praying to the ghastly mouth of the open sky that Julie never changes. That she never wakes up one day to find herself older and wiser. ‘Anyway, you’ve still got some good stuff in here,’ she says, letting her indignation deflate. ‘Great stuff, really. Here, let’s do this one again. Can’t go wrong with Frank.’ She puts on a record and returns to her pad thai. ‘The Lady is a Tramp’ fills the plane’s cabin, and she gives me a crooked little smile. ‘My theme song,’ she says, and stuffs her mouth full of noodles. Out of morbid curiosity, I pull one off her plate and chew it. There is no taste at all. It’s like imaginary food, like chewing air. I turn my head and spit it into my palm. Julie doesn’t notice. She seems far away again, and I watch the colours and shapes of her thought-film flickering behind her face. After a few minutes, she swallows a bite and looks up at me. ‘R,’ she says in a tone of casual curiosity, ‘who did you kill?’ I stiffen. The music fades out of my awareness. ‘In that high-rise. Before you saved me. I saw the blood on your face. Whose was it?’ I just look at her. Why does she have to ask me this. Why can’t her memories fade to black like mine. Why can’t she just live with me alone in the dark, swimming in the abyss of inked-out history. ‘I just need to know who it was.’ Her expression betrays nothing. Her eyes are locked on mine, unblinking. ‘No one,’ I mumble. ‘Some . . . kid.’ ‘There’s this theory that you guys eat brains because you get to relive the person’s life. True?’ I shrug, trying not to squirm. I feel like a toddler caught finger-painting the walls. Or killing dozens of people. ‘Who was it?’ she presses. ‘Don’t you remember?’ I consider lying. I remember a few faces from that room; I could roll the dice and just pick one, probably some random recruit she didn’t even know, and she would let it go and never bring it up again. But I can’t do it. I can’t lie to her any more than I can spit out the indigestible truth. I’m trapped. Julie lets her eyes auger into me for a long minute, then she falters. She looks down at the stained airplane carpet. ‘Was it Berg?’ she offers, so quietly she’s almost talking to herself. ‘The kid with the acne? I bet it was Berg. That guy was a dick. He called Nora a mulatto and he was staring at my ass that entire salvage. Which Perry didn’t even notice, of course. If it was Berg, I’m almost glad you got him.’ I try to catch her gaze to make sense of this reversal, but now she’s the one avoiding eye contact. ‘Anyway,’ she says, ‘whoever killed Perry . . . I just want you to know I don’t blame them for it.’ I tense again. ‘You . . . don’t?’ ‘No. I mean, I think I get it. You don’t have a choice, right? And to be honest . . . I’d never say this to anyone, but . . .’ She stirs her food. ‘It’s kind of a relief that it finally happened.’ I frown. ‘What?’ ‘To be able to finally stop dreading it.’ ‘Perry . . . dying?’ I instantly regret speaking his name. Rolling off my tongue, the syllables taste like his blood. Julie nods, still looking at her plate. When she speaks again her voice is soft and faint, the voice of memories longing to be forgotten. ‘Something . . . happened to him. A lot of things, actually. I guess there came a point where he just couldn’t absorb any more, so he flipped over into a different person. He was this brilliant, fiery kid, so weird and funny and full of dreams, and then . . . just quit all his plans, joined Security . . . it was scary how fast he changed. He said he was doing everything for me, that it was time for him to grow up and face reality, take responsibility and all that. But everything I loved about him – everything that made him who he was – just started rotting. He gave up, basically. Quit his life. Real death was just the next logical step.’ She pushes her plate aside. ‘We talked about dying all the time. He just kept bringing it up. In the middle of a wild makeout session he’d stop and be like,  "Julie, what do you think the average life expectancy is these days?† Or, â€Å"Julie, when I die, will you be the one to cut off my head?† Height of romance, right?’ She looks out of the airplane window at the distant mountains. ‘I tried to talk him down. Tried really hard to keep him here, but over the last couple of years it got pretty clear to everyone. He was just . . . gone. I don’t know if anything short of Christ and King Arthur returning to redeem the world could have brought him back. I sure wasn’t enough.’ She looks at me. ‘Will he come back to life, though? As one of you?’ I drop my eyes, remembering the juicy pink taste of his brain. I shake my head. She is quiet for a while. ‘It’s not like I’m not sad that he’s gone. I am, I . . .’ Her voice wobbles a little. She pauses, clears her throat. ‘I really am. But he wanted it. I knew he wanted it.’ A tear escapes one eye and she seems startled by it. She brushes it away like a mosquito. I stand up, take her plate, fold it into the trash bin. When I sit back down her eyes are dry but still red. She sniffs and gives me a weak smile. ‘I guess I talk a lot of shit about Perry, but it’s not like I’m such a shiny happy person either, you know? I’m a wreck too, I’m just . . . still alive. A wreck in progress.’ She laughs a quick, broken laugh. ‘It’s weird, I never talk about this stuff with anyone, but you’re . . . I mean you’re so quiet, you just sit there and listen. It’s like talking to God.’ Her smile drifts away and she is absent for a moment. When she speaks again her voice is cautious but flat, and her eyes roam the cabin, studying window rivets and warning labels. ‘I used to do some drugs when I was younger. Started when I was twelve and tried almost everything. I still drink and smoke pot when I get the chance. I even had sex with a guy for money once, when I was thirteen. Not because I wanted the money – even back then money was pretty worthless. Just because it was awful, and maybe I felt like I deserved it.’ She looks at her wrist, those thin scars like a grim concert entry stamp. ‘All the shitty stuff people do to themselves . . . it can all be the same thing, you know? Just a way to drown out your own voice. To kill your memories without having to kill yourself.’ There is a long silence. Her eyes roam the floor and mine stay on her face, waiting for her to come home. She takes a deep breath, looks at me, and gives a little shrug. ‘Shrug,’ she says in a small voice, and forces a smile. Slowly, I stand up and go over to my record player. I pull out one of my favourite LPs, an obscure compilation of Sinatra songs from various albums. I don’t know why I like this one so much. I once spent three full days motionless in front of it, just watching the vinyl spin. I know the grooves in this record better than the grooves in my palms. People used to say music was the great communicator; I wonder if this is still true in this post-human, posthumous age. I put the record on and begin to move the needle as it plays, skipping measures, skipping songs, dancing through the spirals to find the words I want to fill the air. The phrases are off-key, off-tempo, punctuated by loud scratches like the ripping of fascia tissue, but the tone is flawless. Frank’s buttery baritone says it better than my croaky vocals ever could had I the diction of a Kennedy. I stand over the record, cutting and pasting the contents of my heart into an airborne collage. I don’t care if you are called – scratch – when people say you’re – scratch – wicked witchcraft – scratch – don’t change a hair for me, not if you – scratch – ’cause you’re sensational – scratch – you just the way you are – scratch – you’re sensational . . . sensational . . . That’s all . . . I leave the record to play out its normal repertoire and sit back down in front of Julie. She stares at me with damp, redrimmed eyes. I press my hand against her chest, feeling the gentle thump inside. A tiny voice speaking in code. Julie sniffs. She wipes a finger across her nose. ‘What are you?’ she asks me for the second time. I smile a little. Then I get up and exit the plane, leaving her question floating there, still unanswerable. In my palm I can feel the echo of her pulse, standing in for the absence of mine. That night, lying on the floor of Gate 12, I fall asleep. The new sleep is different, of course. Our bodies aren’t ‘tired’, we aren’t ‘resting’. But every so often, after days or weeks of unrelenting consciousness, our minds simply can’t carry the weight any more, and we collapse. We allow ourselves to die, to shut down and have no thoughts at all for hours, days, weeks. However long it takes to regather the electrons of our ids, to keep ourselves intact a little longer. There’s nothing peaceful or lovely about it; it’s ugly and compulsory, an iron lung for the wheezing husks of our souls, but tonight, something different happens. I dream. Underdeveloped, murky, faded to sepia like centuries-old film, scenes from my old life flicker in the void of sleep. Amorphous figures walk through melting doorways into shadowy rooms. Voices crawl through my head, deep and slurring like drunken giants. I play ambiguous sports, I watch incoherent movies, I talk and laugh with anonymous blurs. Among these foggy snapshots of an unexamined life, I catch glimpses of a pastime, some passionate pursuit long ago sacrificed on the blood-soaked altar of pragmatism. Guitar? Dancing? Dirt bikes? Whatever it was, it fails to penetrate the thick smog choking my memory. Everything remains dark. Blank. Nameless. I have begun to wonder where I came from. The person I am now, this fumbling, stumbling supplicant . . . was I built on the foundations of my old life, or did I rise from the grave a blank slate? How much of me is inherited, and how much is my own creation? Questions that were once just idle musings have begun to feel strangely urgent. Am I firmly rooted to what came before? Or can I choose to deviate? I wake up staring at the distant ceiling. The memories, empty as they already were, evaporate completely. It’s still night, and I can hear my wife having sex with her new lover behind the door of a nearby staffroom. I try to ignore them. I already walked in on them once today. I heard noises, the door was wide open, so I walked in. There they were, naked, awkwardly slamming their bodies together, grunting and groping each other’s pale flesh. He was limp. She was dry. They watched each other with puzzled expressions, as if some unknown force had shoved them together into this moist tangle of limbs. Their eyes seemed to ask each other, ‘Who the hell are you?’ as they jiggled and jerked like meat marionettes. They didn’t stop or even react when they noticed me standing there. They just looked at me and kept grinding. I nodded, and walked back to Gate 12, and this was the final weight that broke my mind’s kneecaps. I crumpled to the floor and slept. I don’t know why I’m awake already, after just a few feverish hours. I still feel the weight of my accumulated thoughts bearing down on my tender brain, but I don’t think I can sleep any more. A burr and a buzz tickle my mind, keeping me alert. I reach for the only thing that’s ever helped in times like these. I reach into my pocket and pull out my last chunk of cerebrum. As residual life energy fades from the brain, the useless clutter is first to go. The movie quotes, the radio jingles, the celebrity gossip and political slogans, they all melt away, leaving only the most potent and wrenching of the memories. As the brain dies, the life inside clarifies and distils. It ages like a fine wine. The piece in my hand has shrivelled somewhat, taking on a brownish-grey tint. I’ll be lucky to get another few minutes of Perry’s life out of this, but what blazing, urgent minutes these will be. Closing my eyes, I pop it into my mouth and chew, thinking, Don’t leave me yet, Perry. Just a little longer. Just a little more. Please. I erupt from the dark, crushing tunnel into a flash of light and noise. A new kind of air surrounds me, dry and cold, as they wipe the last smears of home off my skin. I feel a sharp pain as they snip something, and suddenly I am less. I am no one but myself, tiny and feeble and utterly alone. I am lifted and swung through great heights across yawning distances, and given to Her. She wraps around me, so much bigger and softer than I ever imagined from inside, and I strain my eyes open. I see Her. She is immense, cosmic. She is the world. The world smiles down on me, and when She speaks it’s the voice of God, vast and resonant with meaning, but words unknowable, ringing gibberish in my blank white mind. She says – I am in a dark, crooked room, gathering medical supplies and loading them into boxes. A small crew of civilian recruits are with me on this salvage, all of them handpicked by Colonel Rosso except one. One of them picked herself. One of them saw a look in my eyes and worried. One of them wants to save me. ‘Did you hear that?’ Julie says, glancing around. ‘No,’ I reply instantly and keep loading. ‘I did,’ Nora says, brushing her frizzy curls out of her eyes. ‘Pear, maybe we should – ‘ ‘We’re fine. We scoped it out, we’re secure. Just work.’ They watch me constantly, tensed like hospital orderlies, ready to intervene. It changes nothing. I won’t endanger them but I’ll still find a way. When I’m alone, when no one’s looking, I’ll do it. I’ll make it happen. They keep trying and trying but the beauty of their love only drives me deeper. Why can’t they understand it’s too late? A noise. I hear it now. A rumble of footsteps up the staircase, a chorus of groans. Are Julie’s ears so much more sensitive or have I stopped listening? I pick up my shotgun and turn – No, I blurt into the middle of the vision. Not this. This isn’t what I want to see. To my surprise, everything halts. Perry looks up at me, the voice in the sky. ‘These are my memories, remember? You’re the guest here. If you don’t want to see it, you can spit it out.’ This is a shock. The memory has come unscripted. Am I having a conversation with the very mind I’m digesting? I don’t know how much of this is actually Perry and how much is just me, but I’m swept along. We should be seeing your life! I shout down at him. Not this! Why would you want your last thought to be a replay of your dirty, meaningless death? ‘You think death isn’t meaningful?’ he retorts, chambering a round in his shotgun. Julie and the others wait in their positions like background props, fidgeting impatiently. ‘Wouldn’t you want to remember yours if you could? How else are you going to reverse-engineer yourself into something new?’ Something new? ‘Of course, you dumb corpse.’ He puts his eye to the sights and makes a slow scan of the room, holding for a moment on Berg. ‘There are a thousand kinds of life and death across the whole metaphysical spectrum, not to mention the metaphorical. You don’t want to stay dead for the rest of your life, do you?’ Well, no . . . ‘Then relax, and let me do what I need to do.’ I swallow the lump in my throat and say, Okay . . . – pick up my shotgun and turn, just as the thundering footfalls reach our floor. The door blows open and they burst inside, roaring. We shoot them, we shoot them, we shoot them, but there are too many, and they’re fast. I crouch over Julie, shielding her as best I can. No. Oh God. This is not what I wanted. A tall skinny one is suddenly behind me, grabbing my legs. I fall and hit the table and my vision flashes red. Everything is wrong, but as the red fades to black I still allow an exultant shout, one last selfish orgasm before I go to sleep for ever: Finally. Finally! And then – * ‘Perry.’ A jab in my ribs. ‘Perry!’ ‘What?’ ‘Don’t you go to sleep on me now.’ I open my eyes. An hour of sun glaring through my closed lids has faded all the colours of the world to bluish grey, like an old movie poster in a dying local video store. I turn my head to look at her. She smiles wickedly and jabs me again. ‘Never mind. Go ahead and sleep.’ Beyond her face I see the looming white posts of the Stadium roof arches, and beyond that, the deep cerulean sky. I slowly alternate my focus between her and the sky, letting her face blur into a peach-and-gold cloud, then refocusing it. ‘What?’ she says. ‘Tell me something hopeful.’ ‘What kind of hopeful?’ I sit up, crossing my arms over my knees. I look out at the surrounding city, the crumbling buildings, the empty streets and the lonely sky, clean and blue and deathly quiet without its white-sketching airplanes. ‘Tell me this isn’t the end of the world.’ She lies there for a minute, looking up at the sky. Then she sits up and pulls one of her earbuds out of her tangled blonde hair. She gently plugs it into my ear. The warbled strumming of a broken guitar, the swelling of an orchestra, the oohs and ahhs of a studio choir, and John Lennon’s weary, woozy voice, singing limitless undying love. Everyone playing this song is now bones in a grave, but here they are anyway, exciting and inviting me, calling me on and on. The final fade-out breaks something inside me, and tears squeeze out of my eyes. The brilliant truth and the inescapable lie, sitting side by side just like Julie and me. Can I have both? Can I survive in this doomed world and still love Julie, who dreams above it? For this moment at least, tied to her brain by the white wire between our ears, I feel like I can. Nothing’s gonna change my world, Lennon chants, over and over. Nothing’s gonna change my world. Julie sings a high harmony, and I murmur a low. There on the hot white roof of humanity’s last outpost, we look out over our rapidly, hopelessly, irretrievably changing world, and we sing: Nothing’s gonna change my world. Nothing’s gonna change my world. I am staring at the airport ceiling again. I drop the last chunk of Perry’s brain into my mouth and chew, but nothing happens. I spit it out like gristle. The story is over. The life is gone. I find my eyes burning again, craving tears that my ducts can’t supply. I feel as if I’ve lost someone dear. A brother. A twin. Where is his soul now? Am I Perry Kelvin’s afterlife? I finally drift back to sleep. I’m in the darkness. The molecules of my mind are still scattered, and I float through oily black space, trying to swipe them up like fireflies. Every time I go to sleep, I know I may never wake up. How could anyone expect to? You drop your tiny, helpless mind into a bottomless well, crossing your fingers and hoping that when you pull it out on its flimsy fishing wire it hasn’t been gnawed to bones by nameless beasts below. Hoping you pull up anything at all. Maybe this is why I only sleep a few hours a month. I don’t want to die again. This has become clearer and clearer to me recently, a desire so sharp and focused I can hardly believe it’s mine: I don’t want to die. I don’t want to disappear. I want to stay. How to cite Warm Bodies Chapter 6, Essay examples

The Arts in Italian Renaissance Essay Example For Students

The Arts in Italian Renaissance Essay The Italian Renaissance was a very difficult time period in European history. The arts were flourishing, veils the city-states in Italy fought bloody battles vivid each other and within themselves. Bribery and murder were not uncommon tools for men to when they wanted power. Meanwhile those same rulers patronized the arts a great deal and they would commission the best artistic minds of the time to build, design and paint their palaces and churches and later on their own portraits and everyday paraphernalia. In the beginning Of Renaissance the artists, as well as the princes, were mostly interested in religious themes, mostly from the New Testament, They all believed that if God let them prosper, then they should give thanks in some form. Therefore, the artists were commissioned to paint the churches, monasteries or nunneries where God was worshipped. People who could afford it, loved to pray out of expensive books or give expensive gifts to worship God. Also, many rich courts tried to emulate the papal court. We will write a custom essay on The Arts in Italian Renaissance specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now The Popes in Rome set an example to all the other rulers by having such a vast collection of artwork that it was doubtful that anyone would ever be able to compete with hem. However the paintings in churches and nunneries had another purpose besides one described above, The Pope and the ruler of any particular area needed to have obedient subjects. Religion was one way to keep people that obedient. The stained glass Windows and the frescoes in the churches and cathedrals often told stories from the Bible or depicted hell and heaven and what people should or should not do. Since most people were illiterate, they depended on the priest to interpret the Bible for them. The illustrations around only supported that interpretation of the Bible which was beneficial o the rich and ruling classes, Even when sooner people preached poverty and abstinence from anything secular, the religious artworks were considered part of religion itself, As time went on, the illustrations took on yet another purpose. Each city-state starting using art to depict and immortality their victories and their rulers. People now commissioned artists to paint their portraits, design their tabletops, smallholders, fans or walls in their studies. A lot of themes varied from religion and if someone were commission a religious theme, often the faces of the buyers were to appear in that work f art. Many people wanted to see something else around them and the elaborate pictures told stories of Greek and Roman gods and goddesses or peoples favorite pastime. By the 16th century the profession of the artist was becoming fashionable. In I SST century it was still unheard of the artists mingling with the powerful and the rich. There were very few masters, who were considered brilliant, so there was practically no competition between them. One person could paint the same monastery or church for years, adding just a little personal variation to the story and the style of the painting. It as becoming fashionable for an artist to not only do his work at a royal court but also be associated with that court, Many city-states claimed ownership of the brilliant minds that worked there. Also, individualism was becoming an important aspect of peoples lives. Any individual who exhibited some sort of talent could easily find a sponsor among rich neighbors . Antenna avgas a shepherd in Pad until someone discovered him and he became a court painter at Mantra. Monetary rewards were also very important to artists. Rivalry between the artists challenged them to go to new and better levels and the more none they received the harder they tried. Many artists, such as Brainlessness, Cello or Piper Della Francesca started experimenting with perspective, After that many lesser known artists started emulating them and the paintings now had a new and different dimension to them, Also, there were other innovations in art. .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 , .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 .postImageUrl , .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 , .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8:hover , .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8:visited , .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8:active { border:0!important; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8:active , .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8 .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u26a9a8e2cebe57f0e3e8fc17f1cc33f8:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: History of Duboise EssayNudity was more acceptable in sculpture and Tangelos David and then Michelangelo David made a new and bolder statement. They looked up to Greeks and Romans for inspiration and technique. In painting, also experimented With nature and landscape. Before Renaissance, landscape was only seed as a background and not as a subject for a painting itself. Now it was being used by Titian, Giorgio and Tinderbox to create mood, atmosphere and to stir people emotions because of its beauty. However, one should not be deceived by the achievements of artists during Renaissance. It was a very violent time in Italian history and blood was shed as easily as money was given for the patronage of arts. The way to power was strewn with corpses; men murdered their Wives, wives poisoned their husbands, brother slaughtered brother, family raged against family, city sacked city (Plumb, 21). This quote is a perfect explanation of what was going on in Renaissance Italy. Anyone with power had always watch their backs because the traitor would always be the least expected person. Politics was a dangerous game and anyone who played gambled with his life, h forever the spoils of the game were enough to attract many. The city-states of Italy gained their independence by switching their allegiance from Popes side to the Emperors. The Pope was not only a religious leader but a secular one as well. The Church owned more property then the Emperor and also had right to collect taxes and the tithe. The Emperor on the other hand fought with the Church for the eight to appoint bishops. Both sides based their motives on religion but the true reasons were very clear D money and poor. If the Church were to appoint the bishop then the taxes and the tithe goes to the church treasury and the people on that land owe their allegiance to the Church. If the Emperor were to appoint the bishop, then would probably be someone whom the Emperor trusts and not all the money would go to the Churchs treasury. And since the Pope was rivaling the Emperor in secular power appointment of bishops took on that struggle. The people in city-states in Italy were divided into two parties, Gullets for the Pope and Gibberellins for the Emperor. This rivalry continued long after the Emperor, for whom this party was formed, was gone. Amidst this rivalry Florence, Milan, Naples and Venice emerged as the strongest and most powerful city-states, They were not power enough to overthrow each other but they constantly engaged into internal wars. This struggle lasted for over fifty years and then Charles V added Italy to the Hapsburg Empire. Regardless of war, the towns were growing. They were of different size and power but all of them were undergoing a political change trying to establish democracy out of feudalism. However, they failed and went from democracy to oligarchy. The members Of craft guilds had acquired power and taken over the institution Of government. They had no written or constitutional authority to rule the city but they represented the oligarchy that was capable of ruling the city. They solved all the problems by force and moved on to secure the financial well-being of the city. There was never any unity in the Italian communities. The gentry had been at odds with merchant and artisans of the city even before the formation of the Gullah and Cobbling parties And although the merchants were the domineering power in the city, they often added the help of nobility in financial or diplomatic matters. Another problem in the Renaissance Italy was the plague. People died by thousands. By the end of the epidemic the population was reduced to almost half of its previous size. The resulting poverty, brought on by the decline of trade was a fertile ground for tyranny to spring upon, The exile of popes to Avignon had given princes a chance to reestablish their power and the Great Schism only encouraged warfare. While the popes were fighting amongst themselves, they had little time to oversee the behavior of the Christian world and especially the Papal States. .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 , .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 .postImageUrl , .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 , .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378:hover , .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378:visited , .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378:active { border:0!important; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378:active , .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378 .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u090d868395f17ee8327e2e848444d378:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Essay on The Importance of Helping Others EssayWhen the Popes came back to Rome, it led to nothing else but a power struggle between the tyrants in Peruvian, Who already established themselves and the Popes, who had to reestablish themselves. The wars were becoming more complicated and the states started hiring mercenaries or conditioner. At first, they were foreigners such as Sir John Hawked and the White Company. Later on, the tyrants of the smaller states started hiring out their men and very often, themselves. However, these troops were very unreliable, Since they were out for hire, they would help anyone who paid more than the previous owner. Because of this, the soldiers camps were filled With spies not only from the enemys side but also from their own. But the hired troops did something very important 0 they saved lives. NO captain wished to waste his men, so the level of bloodshed dropped and the diplomatic talks became more frequent, All this violence made the people more susceptible to religion. After every slaughter, people would repent and pray and try to be the model of Christianity. People such as Savonarola and Far Bernardino, who denounced all the earthly possessions, found a fertile ground in cities wrecked by afar and plague. While such moments of religious fervor were fleeting, they were very frequent, which shows that bloody slaughter and the plague were a common occurrence. People who killed today would go to church and renounce all the worldly possessions tomorrow only to repeat this cycle Of sin repentance. All of the above shows that Italian Renaissance was a period of time in European history when two different elements of life coexisted at the same time. It is very difficult to understand what moved people to kill for power and then spend money with ease on gifts to Church through art.