ENVIRONMENTAL POLLUTION :: essays research papers

ENVIRONMENTAL POLLUTION Efforts to improve the standard of living for humans--through the control of nature and the development of new products--have also resulted in the pollution, or contamination, of the environment. Much of the world's air, water, and land is now partially poisoned by chemical wastes. Some places have become uninhabitable. This pollution exposes people all around the globe to new risks from disease. Many species of plants and animals have become endangered or are now extinct. As a result of these developments, governments have passed laws to limit or reverse the threat of environmental pollution. Ecology and Environmental Deterioration The branch of science that deals with how living things, including humans, are related to their surroundings is called ecology . The Earth supports some 5 million species of plants, animals, and microorganisms. These interact and influence their surroundings, forming a vast network of interrelated environmental systems called ecosystems. The arctic tundra is an ecosystem and so is a Brazilian rain forest. The islands of Hawaii are a relatively isolated ecosystem. If left undisturbed, natural environmental systems tend to achieve balance or stability among the various species of plants and animals. Complex ecosystems are able to compensate for changes caused by weather or intrusions from migrating animals and are therefore usually said to be more stable than simple ecosystems. A field of corn has only one dominant species, the corn plant, and is a very simple ecosystem. It is easily destroyed by drought, insects, disease, or overuse. A forest may remain relatively unchanged by weather that would destroy a nearby field of corn, because the forest is characterized by greater diversity of plants and animals. Its complexity gives it stability. Population Growth and Environmental Abuse The reduction of the Earth's resources has been closely linked to the rise in human population. For many thousands of years people lived in relative harmony with their surroundings. Population sizes were small, and life-supporting tools were simple. Most of the energy needed for work was provided by the worker and animals. Since about 1650, however, the human population has increased dramatically. The problems of overcrowding multiply as an ever-increasing number of people are added to the world's population each year. Air Pollution Factories and transportation depend on huge amounts of fuel--billions of tons of coal and oil are consumed around the world every year. When these fuels burn they introduce smoke and other, less visible, by-products into the atmosphere.

Iron Crowned Chapter 8

There was a long pause as I waited expectantly. Volusian was enjoying this, I realized. He wasn't going to elaborate until I asked because he wanted to draw out the agony. â€Å"Damn it! Tell me what happened!† Volusian got this pleased look on his face that I suspected was the closest he ever came to smiling. â€Å"The Oak King is †¦Ã¢â‚¬  I held my breath. â€Å"†¦ alive.† â€Å"Thank God.† Of course, thinking of my own wounds, â€Å"alive† might not mean much. â€Å"Is he hurt?† â€Å"He is well and uninjured.† I sank gratefully onto my bed, knowing I wore my emotions all over my face. I hated to ever show anything like that in front of Volusian. I wanted to maintain an image of power. This situation was too important, though. Fear and worry for Dorian and the battle had been a knot within me, one I only just now dared to loosen. â€Å"What about the others? Who won?† â€Å"Your forces, mistress.† Again, relief flooded through me. We had won. Dorian was okay. â€Å"Casualties?† â€Å"Inevitable, of course.† Volusian didn't seem particularly concerned, but then, he was never concerned about much. â€Å"Death and injury on both sides. The Oak King's lands and towns remained untouched.† That last part was good news. But death and injury? No, I didn't like that. I wanted to know numbers, but for now, that was irrelevant. One death was too much. I'd get all the stats I needed from Dorian soon enough. I started to thank Volusian, but that wasn't the way our relationship worked. â€Å"Go back to the Oak Land. Tell Dorian I'll be there shortly.† Volusian gave a small nod of acknowledgment. I expected him to vanish instantly, but he paused, eyes narrowing slightly. â€Å"My mistress has also been in a battle tonight.† I shifted slightly, becoming aware of the bandages covering my shoulder and back. â€Å"Yeah, I fought a fetch.† â€Å"Who inflicted great injury.† â€Å"It would appear so, wouldn't it?† â€Å"But not enough to kill you.† The look I gave him was answer enough. â€Å"Pity,† he said. He vanished. â€Å"Damn it,† I muttered. I stayed where I was, staring off into space. I needed to cross to Dorian's land soon, but for now, I allowed the news to percolate in my head for a few moments more. Only, a new distraction presented itself. Otherworldly magic washed over me seconds before a voice spoke. â€Å"You could end it easily, you know.† I jumped up from my bed as the ghost from the mountains appeared before me. Silently, I cursed myself for having packed up my weapons. Since my queenhood, attacks at home had dropped off, lulling me into a false sense of security. It was lazy of me. Foolish. With no care for the other carefully packed items, I upended my bag, dumping everything out. I grabbed my wand, expecting the ghost to attack. Instead, she just hung in the air, face blank. â€Å"You shouldn't have come back,† I said, wand ready and pointed. Weary as I was, banishing magic tingled within me. â€Å"You should have stayed away.† She stayed motionless, uncaring of the threat I presented. â€Å"I told you. I can't. I need your help.† â€Å"And I told you, I can't help you.† â€Å"I can help you,† she said. â€Å"I can help you find the Iron Crown.† The magic welling within me paused and then I dropped it altogether. I eyed her warily. â€Å"How do you know about that?† She gave a weak shrug. â€Å"I've been following you.† I began the banishing again, quickly working out her words. Of course she could follow me. She was a strong ghost, one who could likely flit between this and the Otherworld as easily as I saw her move around here. The magic of the Otherworld, which concealed so many spirits, would make her harder to detect there. Following – and spying – would be easy. â€Å"We're done with this,† I said. Power coursed into the wand. Still, she didn't flinch. â€Å"The Iron Crown,† she repeated. â€Å"I know where it is. I can lead you.† Again, I paused the banishing and recalled something Dorian had said. â€Å"The way is blocked to spirits.† â€Å"Yes,† she agreed. â€Å"But I know the starting point. You don't even know that. I can take you there, and you can go the rest of the way on your own.† â€Å"I don't believe you. I have no reason to. You could just get me mucked up in your little investigation and then disappear.† This finally brought about emotion. Anger flickered in those pale eyes. â€Å"‘Little investigation?' This is my family! Their lives! They mean everything to me.† â€Å"Meant,† I corrected. â€Å"You need to cut your ties to this world.† Her lips flattened into a straight line, as though she fought to control her temper. â€Å"I'll take you there first. After you have the crown, you'll help me. I'll be the one taking you at your word. You have nothing to lose.† â€Å"Nothing except my life,† I muttered. â€Å"A crown that does nothing except lead me on some lethal journey is a big gamble. I don't even believe Masthera's crazy logic.† â€Å"Other spirits say it can do what she says,† the ghost said. â€Å"They're old. They remember it.† Well, that at least answered one of my questions. The dubious nature of the crown aside, I understood how a ghost like this would know about something so ancient. The grief that bound her to this world might make her strong, but she struck me as a new ghost, one that would hardly know about some legendary artifact. â€Å"It's all ridiculous,† I said. â€Å"It's time for you to go.† â€Å"It is,† she agreed. â€Å"Think about my offer. Summon me when you're ready. My name is Deanna.† And as easily as she'd come, she disappeared, beating my banishing. Admittedly, it had less to do with my skill than with my own doubt. Her words had struck something in me. A tiny spark of wonder, wonder that maybe there was some wacky way to end this war. If the legends were true. If Deanna wasn't lying. If I didn't die setting out alone on a treacherous journey. Shaking my head, I once more chastised myself for letting her go. Next time. Next time I'd banish her to the Underworld as soon as I saw her face. For now, I had to go to Dorian. I'd wasted too much time. Hastily, I repacked my bag and went on my way. Tim and Lara still sat in the living room. Recognizing what the bag meant, Tim again muted the TV, an uncharacteristic look of concern on his face. â€Å"Eug †¦ don't you think going over to Never Never Land is a bad idea after getting your ass kicked tonight?† â€Å"You should see the other guy.† I shifted the bag, careful to keep it on my good shoulder and away from my back. â€Å"Besides, sad as it is, I think I'm safer there than here.† He sighed, and I couldn't help a smile. I glanced at Lara. â€Å"I'll be back as soon as I can.† Her face was as grave as Tim's. â€Å"I don't think we're charging enough.† I laughed. â€Å"Probably not.† I left them for a gateway that opened up near Dorian's. I had an anchor in his castle too, and crossing over nearby pulled me to it. I appeared in a small, empty chamber that he reserved purely for the anchor. Even injured, I'd had no difficulty making the transition. A long time ago, I couldn't even cross in human form. I'd come over as my spirit's totem: a dark swan. Now, coming here was as easy as stepping through a door. My power had indeed grown, something that Kiyo and my parents feared. I didn't get very far down the adjacent hall before I was spotted by a servant. â€Å"Your Majesty!† he sputtered, managing a clumsy bow. â€Å"The king has been expecting you.† â€Å"Then take me to him,† I said. Dinner had long since ended, and Dorian was in one of his posh sitting rooms, surrounded by a handful of counselors and generals. To my surprise, Masthera sat there too, off in a corner where she observed rather than participated in the meeting. Dorian's face was calm and collected as he spoke to the others, but his expression broke a little when he saw me. â€Å"Eugenie!† In a few strides, he was across the room. Something cracked inside of me too, something that was so, so glad to see him alive and well. Despite Volusian's report, I'd needed to see Dorian alive for myself. My heart swelled, and I let go of my aversion to gentry customs. I dropped the bag and wrapped my arms around his neck, seeking his lips before he could hardly even get his hands on me. He gripped my hips as we kissed, the power of that kiss sweeping my body and filling it with heat as I pressed against him. It was suddenly easy to understand why gentry sometimes felt the need to have sex in public. No such option was given to me because Dorian's hands slid up my waist, freezing when he touched the bandages. He pulled away abruptly, studying me with astonishment. I still wore my tank top, giving a full view of the hospital's handiwork. â€Å"Good grief, woman,† he exclaimed. â€Å"What happened?† I gave as unconcerned a shrug as he might. â€Å"I got in a fight. With a fetch.† He stared. â€Å"She threw a table at me.† Dorian peered beyond me, over at the servant who'd escorted me to the room. â€Å"Get a healer.† â€Å"No, don't,† I said. The guy hesitated, glancing between us, torn between two commands. â€Å"You need your healers for the armies. This looks worse than it is.† That wasn't entirely true. The painkillers I'd been given were wearing off, making the scratches itchy and sore. Yet, I couldn't shake Volusian's words about death and injury. I wouldn't take any healers away from the armies. I gave Dorian a warning look. â€Å"It's fine.† He returned my look, locking us in a brief battle of wills. â€Å"Fine,† he repeated. He glanced over at the servant. â€Å"She says it's fine. Far be it from me to question my lady. Come join us, dear. I assume your despicable little pet gave you the essentials?† A chair was quickly brought over to me, and I joined the meeting. The details of it were a blur. I was no strategist, not for this kind of war. One-on-one fights were my thing. Mostly I listened to the group, not always understanding, as they studied maps and discussed army movement and strategic targets. Borders and areas with resources – like my copper mines – seemed to be a protective priority, which was about the only part I truly understood. The part that really stuck with me was the recap of this battle. It had been long, even though our superior numbers had ensured victory almost from the beginning. The towns and our food were safe. The number of casualties were recounted briefly. Dorian and his advisors seemed pleased by them, considering them low. I supposed, as far as percentages went in the army, they were. Still †¦ people had died. Gentry or not, it didn't matter. They had families, people who loved them. People who would mourn. I felt sick to my stomach. The meeting closed with plans for our next move, plans I agreed to automatically when consulted. Everyone left, off for bed, except me, Dorian, and Masthera. The pleased, laconic look Dorian had worn for his team vanished once the last person was out of our sight. He turned on me, outrage in those beautiful eyes. â€Å"What were you thinking? I was the one who was supposed to be facing an army today. Not you.† â€Å"I didn't,† I countered. â€Å"It was just a fetch. Did I mention the table?† â€Å"You're making a joke out of this.† â€Å"No more than what you usually do.† I frowned. â€Å"And this is nothing †¦ nothing compared to what you and the others faced.† His blase expression returned. â€Å"We had a great victory.† â€Å"We have different ideas of victory,† I said sadly. My eyes landed on Masthera, who watched us intently. â€Å"What are you doing here?† She seemed to read my question as an invitation and moved to a nearer chair. â€Å"Waiting for you, Your Majesty. I sensed that you would come.† I scoffed. â€Å"Volusian came and said I was coming.† The comment didn't bother her. â€Å"You've come to discuss the Iron Crown.† â€Å"Hardly.† Yet, I found myself frowning as crazy thoughts swirled in my head. Dorian arched an eyebrow of surprise. â€Å"Is that true? You made your feelings clear on that last time.† â€Å"They haven't really changed,† I admitted. â€Å"I still don't see it as a convenient end to all of this. Except †¦ well, a ghost came to me today.† â€Å"Ghosts are always coming to you.† â€Å"Yeah, yeah. But this one claimed she could lead me to the crown. Or rather, the place surrounding it. She needs a favor and offered this in return.† Masthera's eyes widened, and she leaned forward. â€Å"This is it! What I've seen. This will bring you to the crown.† â€Å"Presuming this ghost isn't part of some elaborate plan to kill me,† I said. â€Å"Wouldn't be the first time.† â€Å"No, no,† she said. â€Å"This is real. I feel it. I've had a vision of you crowned.† Dorian gave her a sharp look. â€Å"Enough. It doesn't matter if this ghost is telling the truth. I'm not sending Eugenie off into a nightmarish landscape.† â€Å"Hey, you don't send me anywhere,† I retorted. He rolled his eyes. â€Å"Please. Don't start with the mock wounded pride over your capabilities. You're a great warrior; I accept that. You defeat fetches and tables and all other sorts of fiends. But this †¦ no. The risk is too great, and I couldn't help you.† â€Å"But Your Majesty!† exclaimed Masthera. â€Å"You see the opportunity. An end to the war. The power. The fear this would inspire among others.† â€Å"My own fear is more than enough, thank you,† he said dryly. An end to the war. An astonishing thought struck me. â€Å"Gentry would suffer in the iron fields †¦ but I'm not the only half human. I could take Jasmine with me.† Jasmine was almost as unaffected by iron as I was. Touching it caused her no pain, and it was only her cuffs' tight binding that stunted her magic. Otherwise, to my knowledge, simply being near iron wasn't enough to dim her power. â€Å"No,† said Dorian swiftly. â€Å"Absolutely not. I wouldn't have your unstable sister go anywhere near that crown.† â€Å"The queen is right, though,† said Masthera. â€Å"Storm King's younger daughter might be protected by her human blood.† I expected another refusal from Dorian, but he remained silent. He was actually considering this, I realized. Jasmine would be a safe companion – or not. â€Å"No,† he repeated at last. â€Å"If she somehow returned in control of the crown †¦ Well, I wouldn't want to see that. She craves power too much.† â€Å"I thought the crown didn't have power in and of itself,† I said suspiciously. â€Å"It doesn't – but if she possessed it, others would believe she was the daughter to fear. Right now, you carry that honor. I'd like to keep it that way. You can't go with such a dangerous companion.† â€Å"Your Majesty – † attempted Masthera again. â€Å"Enough,† said Dorian, standing up. â€Å"It's late. The discussion is over, and I want to go to bed. You're dismissed.† Masthera looked upset but didn't contradict her lord. After a brief curtsey to each of us, she scurried away. We left as well, staying silent as we walked through the halls, past stationed guards. As soon as we were alone in Dorian's room, I turned on him. â€Å"You have a lot of fucking nerve! Don't ever talk to me like that in front of someone – like you've got the power around here. We're equals in this, remember?† He smiled and took off his cloak and shirt. â€Å"Of course we are. And equals sometimes trade power. When it comes to you making foolish choices, I wield the power.† â€Å"When it comes to making foolish choices, I – never mind. Look, if there's a chance to end this with as little bloodshed as possible, I want it.† â€Å"As do I.† He stood before me and ran a gentle finger along the side of my neck. â€Å"But not at the cost of your life or reputation. Find a better option, and you can go.† He moved his hands down and caught the edges of my shirt, carefully lifting it over my head without disturbing the bandages. â€Å"There you go again,† I growled. â€Å"Acting like you control this.† â€Å"I do. Just as I control this.† He grabbed hold of my waist and jerked me to him, his lips crushing mine in a fierce kiss, one that left me gasping when I managed to pull back. â€Å"You don't control anything,† I said. Yet, that kiss and his closeness made me ache with arousal. Maybe it was my anger or the residual adrenaline from all my fights today. Maybe it was just relief at seeing him, no matter how much he annoyed me now. Whenever I returned from battle, sex was his way of truly confirming I was alive and safe. Today, I shared that. He was alive. I wanted him, and he knew it. â€Å"You see?† His lips moved to my neck, and I felt the edge of his teeth. â€Å"I've got the power here †¦ and you like that †¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I †¦ that is †¦Ã¢â‚¬  Forming coherent words was difficult for obvious reasons. His mouth was too distracting, as was the rest of his touch. He moved his lips up near my ear, his hands cupping my breasts. I pushed down his pants, feeling how hard he was as my hands slid over him. â€Å"I know you, Eugenie. I know what you want †¦ and here? You want me in control. Really, those wounds you insist on keeping are all that are stopping me from throwing you against the wall or the bed.† The rest of our clothes fell off, piece by piece, while we still attempted some sort of debate. â€Å"Guess you're not as in control as you think,† I said. We were pressed together, bare skin against bare skin. We managed to stay wrapped up with each other as we moved toward the bed. His hands slid up over my breasts, lingering briefly on my nipples. Then – again avoiding any wounded areas – he gripped my shoulders, and I expected him to throw me onto the bed anyway. Instead, he pushed me down onto my knees, so that my back was barely an inch from the bed, and he stood right in front of me. The tip of his huge swelling erection was right against my lips, just like the last time we'd been together, save that I'd been on my back then. â€Å"I still have the control. I can make you do all sorts of things,† he murmured. â€Å"Now, are you going to do this on your own? Or will I have to make you?† There was no coercion needed. I parted my lips and took him into my mouth. Just like the last time we'd had sex, he felt so large and long that I could barely fit him as I sucked and slid my lips along that shaft. He realized I was holding back and tsked disapproval. â€Å"You can do better than that.† His hands were tangled in my hair, and he pulled my head closer, forcing more of him into me, more than I thought I could take as I felt him touch the back of my throat. â€Å"More †¦Ã¢â‚¬  he breathed. â€Å"Take more †¦ or I'll make you†¦.† I increased my speed and intensity as I took him into my mouth over and over. It was as much as I could do, and he knew it, but that didn't matter. This was a game, a game of power. Deciding where I went and who I fought? No. He couldn't do that. But here? He could play master. â€Å"Still not good enough,† he said. He took over from me, and just as he had last time, he thrust into my mouth as steadily and hard as he might have my thighs. His hold on my hair tipped my face up and made me look into his eyes, just as I was forced to take as much of him into my mouth as he chose. â€Å"I wish we'd done this downstairs. Should have taken you †¦ the instant you walked into the room †¦Ã¢â‚¬  He still had that smooth, controlling tone to his voice, but it was cracking a little as the pleasure of this began to take over. â€Å"I wish the whole court could see this. You're so beautiful †¦ so beautiful with your mouth full of me †¦ more beautiful still when I pour my seed into you †¦Ã¢â‚¬  I shivered, making a small groan of desire. He was pumping harder now, almost uncomfortably so for me, yet it was giving me a thrill of my own. â€Å"That was †¦ what you †¦ wanted, wasn't it? Last time?† His voice was low and strained, his whole body suddenly tensing. â€Å"This?† He came, and warm liquid exploded in my mouth. Although he slowed, he still continued sliding in and out as he released himself into me. Then, he pulled out, finishing his orgasm and spilling onto my lips and breasts. I coughed slightly, and he slid a finger across my lips. â€Å"Swallow,† he hissed. â€Å"Swallow it all.† I did, surprised that he'd been able to come so much both in my mouth and on me. The finger toying with my lip slid along my face and down to my breasts, rubbing in his semen. When his finger returned to my lips, I knew what he wanted. I took it into my mouth and licked his finger, sucking on it until there was nothing left. Smiling he helped me up to the bed and laid me down on my side, where he continued massaging my sticky breasts. â€Å"Wasteful,† he said at last. I knew what a big concession it was for him to forgo intercourse. â€Å"Wasteful, but enjoyable.† â€Å"Seeing as this was what I wanted, maybe I had the power here after all,† I teased. â€Å"Hush, woman,† he chastised good-naturedly. He shifted me again, so that my head rested on his chest. His hand slid down my body, his fingers moving between my thighs as deftly as they had under the table. He groaned when he felt how wet I was. â€Å"Wasteful, I say.† I laughed, shifting up to kiss him. â€Å"I've told you before, it doesn't – ah †¦Ã¢â‚¬  Taunting thoughts faded away, and soon all that consumed me was his fingers stroking me harder and faster. He brought his lips back to mine so that we were locked in a kiss when I came. Agonizing pleasure radiated through my body at his touch, and my cries were swallowed into that kiss. He released me only when my shaking stopped and breathing calmed, again letting me rest against his chest. One hand stroked my hair while the one that had just got me off moved to rest on my bare lower back. We both sighed in contentment, and I closed my eyes, exhaustion from the day's battles finally catching up with me. I was nearly asleep – and thought he was too – when quiet words brought me back to consciousness. â€Å"Masthera is right. The crown could solve a lot of problems.† Yes, I was definitely awake now. â€Å"I thought you didn't believe that.† â€Å"Oh, no. I believe it could end this war. I believe it would make Katrice cower in fear.† He sighed. â€Å"I just don't want to risk you. I couldn't cope with losing you.† My heart tightened at his words. I didn't know what to say and simply brushed my lips against his chest. â€Å"And you're both right,† he continued. â€Å"That if I can't †¦ if I can't go with you, then a half-human companion is the ideal choice.† Now I was really surprised. I lifted my head, hardly believing what I'd heard. â€Å"So, what are you saying? I should take Jasmine after all?† â€Å"No. That's still a horrible idea. But not quite as horrible as this one.† He gave another sigh, one that seemed to cause him pain. â€Å"You should bring the kitsune.†

Ops 571 Statistical Process Control

Chase, Jacobs and Aquilano pose questions such as, â€Å"How many paint defects are there in the finish of a car? [and] Have we improved our painting process by installing a new sprayer? † These questions are meant to investigate and apply different techniques that we can use to improve the quality of life. Quality control not only applies to manufacturing techniques, it can also be applied to everyday life. This discussion will focus on a specific method of quality control called statistical process control that will ensure my morning process is effective.One method of quality control can be pursued through process control procedures like statistical process control or SPC. SPC â€Å"involves testing a random sample of output from a process to determine whether the process is producing items within a preselected range†. (Chase, Jacobs & Aquilano, 354) SPC is a method that can be applied to a process in order to monitor or control that process. In week one, I described a personal process of waking up in the morning through to going to work.In addition to my process, I presented several bottlenecks that can slow my process down including the ability of my alarm clock working, weather impact on travel time, and availability of gym equipment. In the examples below, I will focus on how alarm failures have affected my morning process. SPC has shown how statistical data can be charted in order to see how my morning process is affected by my bottlenecks and whether or not it is a positive. Goods or services are observed not as variables but as attributes. Attributes are quality characteristics that are classified as either conforming or not conforming to specification. † (Chase, Jacobs & Anquilano, 354) In example one, a sample was taken 10 times over a 30 day period in which alarm failures were observed. In order to create a visual representation of the statistics, we must combine the data from the sample. Once the data is gathered, we can provide a solution to create a control chart. Control charts are used as a â€Å"component of total quality [in order to] monitor processes†. Green, Toms, Stinson, 37) First, we calculate the fraction of defective alarms from the sample in order to gain a total and a centerline for our graph. p = Total number of defects from all samples/Number of samples ? Sample size p = 25/ 10 ? 30 = . 08333 Next, we can calculate the standard deviation. Sp = vp (1 – p)/ n Sp = v . 08333 (1 – . 08333) / 30 = . 05050 Example 1Sample| Number of Days| Days Alarm Failed to Work| Fraction Defective| 1| 30| 2| . 06667| 2| 30| 2| . 06667| 3| 30| 3| . 10000| 4| 30| 3| . 10000| 5| 30| 2| . 06667| 6| 30| 4| . 13333| 7| 30| 3| . 10000| 8| 30| 2| . 06667| 9| 30| 2| . 6667| 10| 30| 2| . 06667| Total| 300| 25| . 08333| Sample Standard Deviation| . 05050| | | Finally, the control limits are used to measure attributes with a single decision of yes or no, good or bad, and positive or negative. This s imple decision can be translated into a graph with upper and lower control limits. If the sample is plotted and stays in between the limits, then the sample is considered good or working properly. â€Å"Should a sample mean or proportion fall outside the control limits or a series of mean or proportions exhibit a non-random pattern the process is deemed out-of-control. (Green, Toms, Stinson, 37) In order to turn the chart into a graph, we will need to calculate the upper control limits (UCL), the lower control limits (LCL) and z. â€Å"†¦z is the number of standard deviations for a specific confidence†. In this example, we will use the †z-value of 3 in order to represent a 99. 7% confidence† (Chase, Jacobs, & Anquilano, 356). This means that when that the confidence interval â€Å"falls outside the control limits, there is a 99. 7% chance that there is something wrong with the process that must be corrected†. Green, Toms, Stinson, 37) Though not perfe ct, a confidence of 99. 7% is useful. The SPC must also take into consideration the number of data points as well. The more data that is available the stronger your confidence intervals are. UCL = p + z Sp UCL = p + 3Sp UCL = . 08333 + 3(. 05050) = . 23483 LCL = p – z Sp LCL = p – 3Sp LCL = . 08333 ? 3(. 05050) = -. 06817 In the control chart, the data from the sample stays in between the controls. This means that my process in the morning is working properly and is effective.Now, it is important to look to the future trends in order to predict seasonal factors. â€Å"A seasonal factor is the amount of correction needed in a time series to adjust for the season of the year. † (Chase, Jacobs & Anquilano, 533) Seasonal factors may affect the samples by taking into consideration factor based on seasons or time periods. The alarm clock that is used to wake me up in the morning is not dependent on any factors of time or season. Statistical process control is one way to control quality and make sure goals are attained.Statistical methods show that the samples taken can create visual representations that conclude my alarm clock is an effective method to starting my morning process. This ensures that it is operating at its fullest potential. REFERENCES Chase, R. B. , Jacobs, F. R. , Aquilano, N. J. Operations management for competitive advantage (11th ed). New York: McGraw Hill/Irwin. Green Jr. K, Toms L, Stinson T. STATISTICAL PROCESS CONTROL APPLIED WITHIN AN EDUCATION SERVICES ENVIRONMENT. Academy Of Educational Leadership Journal [serial online]. June 2012;16 (2):33-46.

Subprocesses of Assimilation essays

Subprocesses of Assimilation essays The subprocesses of assimilation are processes that occur in order during the assimilation process. The various subprocesses are: (1) cultural assimilation by substitution and cultural assimilation by addition, (2) secondary structural assimilation, (3) primary structural assimilation, (4) marital assimilation, (5) identificational assimilation, (6) attitude receptional assimilation, (7) behavior receptional assimilation, and (8) civic assimilation. Cultural assimilation by substitution is when the subordinate group abandons their cultural practices and takes up those of the dominant group. According to Gordons Theory of Assimilation Subprocesses, cultural assimilation occurs most rapidly. Cultural assimilation by addition is when the subordinate group keeps most of its own heritage and also adopts some from the dominant group. In this type of cultural assimilation, the subordinate group remains distinguishable. Secondary structural assimilation refers to equal-status relationships between subordinate and dominant group members in the public sphere, such as relationships with people at work, in schools, in commercial transactions, at political meetings, and in places of public recreations. Primary structural assimilation refers to close, personal interactions between subordinate and dominant group members in the private sphere, such as relationships within families, friendship groups, and social clubs. Secondary structural assimilation appears ahead of primary structural assimilation, because people typically meet and interact with one another in impersonal settings before they become close and interact in personal settings. Marital assimilation is the subprocess, which refers to the gradual merging of subordinate and dominant groups through intermarriage. Marital assimilation is the fourth subprocess to becoming fully assimilated into American society. Even groups within high levels of intermarriage...

Whirling Logs The Navajo Sandpainting essays

Whirling Logs The Navajo Sandpainting essays According to Navajo tradition, the Whirling Logs sandpainting was a religious item. The Navajo people used the sandpainting in healing ceremony. Also, the Navajos referred to the sandpainting as an iikaah meaning an opening for the gods to enter and leave. The sandpainting was an essential device in the healing ceremony that could last up to nine days. A singer, who also was a medicine man, performed the healing ceremony. During the ceremony, the medicine man directed other Navajos in creating the sandpainting on the ground to illustrate an allegory within the healing ceremony. The sandpainters used crushed stones, flowers, gypsums, and pollen to create and complete the sandpainting in one day. Then, they destroyed it later that night in order to dispel evil and restore health. In the Whirling Logs sandpainting, the Navajos depicted a story of Tsil-ol-ne, a hero who went on a long journey. Tsil-ol-ne floated on a hollow log traveling down the river, which is known as the San Juan River today, and there he learned ritual ceremonies to cure sickness and how to farm. When Tsil-ol-ne turned to his home, he shared all new ideas with his people. The sandpainting got its name as Whirling Logs due to the hero and his logs which were trapped in a whirlpool where the San Juan River and Colorado River meet, and he was rescued by the gods. In the center of the sandpainting is the whirling cross with Yeis, who are the gods of the Navajos, seating in pair on each of the four ends. One is a male dressing in black with a round head mask, and the other is a female dressing in white with a square head mask. The Yeis taught Tsil-ol-ne how to farm and grow seeds. At the four corners of the whirling cross, starting from the top right corner clockwise, there are plants: corn, beans, squash, and tobacco. Figures around the four ends of the whirling cross, clockwise, are also the gods: Talking God, the teacher and the elder of other gods, w ...

Discussion Questions (Business Ethics for Leaders class) Assignment

Discussion Questions (Business Ethics for Leaders class) - Assignment Example Leaders help to establish a culture of an organization and they set example others follow. Employees take their lead from their leaders and if leaders do not behave in ethical manner, employees might not as well. It is not what leaders say that matters, but what they do. Leaders should lead from the front and make sure not to isolate people who voice their moral concerns on business issues. Leaders in business must give life and meaning to these words by acting on them. This means to use every opportunity to stress importance of business ethics and key business decisions that are not only economically viable but make good ethical sense. To further ethical behavior there is a need to build an organization culture that values ethical behavior. The business must unambiguously coherent values that emphasize ethical behavior. One way of doing this is to draft a code of ethics which is a prescribed statement of ethical priorities a business adheres to. Few follow documents such as UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which is grounded in right based theories of moral philosophy. Few incorporate ethical statements that express values or missions of employees. Charles Hills (2002) notes that multinational Unilever has code of ethics that includes following points â€Å"Employees: Unilever is committed to diversity in working environment where there is mutual respect and trust and where everyone feels responsible for performance and reputation of company†¦we are committed to safe and healthy working conditions to all employees... we will not use any form of forced, compulsory or child labor†¦we respect dignity of individual and their right to freedom of association.. It is evident that Unilever principles send a very clear message about appropriate ethics to leaders and employees. Few companies employ independent auditors to make sure that company is behaving consistent with its ethical codes. Finally, building an organization culture that places high

Fantastic Mr. Fox by Ronal Dahl Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 2000 words

Fantastic Mr. Fox by Ronal Dahl - Essay Example These early instances of animals in literature history stood generally imbued with strong allegorical and religious significance. â€Å"Fantastic Mr. Fox† serves as criterions of moral didacticism by use of animals as instances for humans to avoid or follow (Dahl 70). Before we even encounter Mr. Fox, Roald introduces us to three loathsome farmers who go by names of Bunce, Bean and Boggis. Farmer Boggis keeps poultry and is a prime sample of obesity since he eats 3 whole chickens together with dumplings for each meal of the day daily. Farmer Bunce, conversely, has thousands of geese and ducks. He stands a pot - bellied dwarf and his diet consisting of doughnuts bloated with goose liver cream. He seems to continue with this regime although he has a persistent stomach ache and an ill temper because of it. Finally, there is Farmer Bean, a turkey’s keeper and an apple orchard owner. He does not eat turkeys: he simply brews cider from the apples to drink the brew by the gall on. Bean is extremely thin but extraordinary brilliant. These 3 farmers are so contemptible that their local children sing a rhyme about their spitefulness when they come across them. It remains actually quite shocking that they manage to liaise with each other, considering their unpleasantness (Dahl 3). They must liaise, however, if they stand having at any chance at all, to outwit Mr. Fox. The Mr. Fox has a family of a wife and 4 little foxes to nourish, and each evening he asks his wife if she would like a duck, a goose, a turkey or a chicken. He then steals from the appropriate farm and takes back the chosen birdie. He is a cunning creature who approaches farms with the wind propelling towards him, so he can pick up the farmer’s scent lying to wait with a gun and quickly change his direction. The three farmers are furious and eventually agree they should hide proximal Mr. Fox hole to attack him once he emerges. The story continues their frustrated attempts to kill Mr. Fox alongside his family, who always succeed to dig further and escape the farmers. The foxes get horrified when tractors get brought to dig them out. However, Mr. Fox finds a plan to dig several tunnels along to each farm and steal enough foodstuff and cider for a celebration. Help gets solicited from other animals, of that get summoned to a great banquet (Dahl 13). Foxes stay often depicted as antiheroes in children's literature, â€Å"Chicken Liken† being a prime illustration. In 'Fantastic Mr. Fox, conversely, readers find themselves rooting for the foxes family in the aspect of the drastic actions taken by the 3 loathsome farmers. The story continues at a fast pace over chapters of about six pages each, and it is unlikely any child can have the chance to become bored. Quentin Blake delightful illustrations add hugely to bring the tale alive. The animals stay seen as life - size compared to the chickens, ducks, turkeys and geese. Mr. Fox wears a classy jacket and neck tie wh ereas Badger wears a waistcoat. Eyes and snouts are exaggerated, and all animals more have beaming, wholehearted smiles. The farmers, in contrast, are grumpy, glum souls. The illustration of 2 tractors with their headlights grinning makes them appear like two monsters with arrays of fangs, ready to gulp a creature that would get on their way (Sax 55). The tale remains intended for read - aloud tale for children aged 3