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Alfie didn’t like that either, for demonstrating that my own record-keeping was ahead of his poor admin management was almost classed as crass insolence. If you had already written bus number 48 in your diary against the shift, but his info from the running card was that it was busthere was nothing he could say.

Mind you, if your written bus number tallied with his running card, you were stuffed, and you got your pen out and gave it a good shake as you muttered ‘bugger’ under your breath and made your way to the cubby hole. I started that habit of recording my buses very early, after twice being hauled up for minor crimes on a day when I wasn’t even at work, or after I’d finished a shift.

That’s how I came to collect 5 years of duty diaries with almost every bus I ever worked on carefully written down, which in itself has become an interesting historical record, and a great memory jogger.

Just seeing the legal lettering from the side of a bus printed here may be enough to prompt such memories of those days for some of you. The memory of the DCI prompts the jitters in me! I in White Reports in my dreams!

Where’s me’ pen, I’ll do one now. The offices on the immediate left were the ground-floor cash office, where conductors and one-man-drivers paid in, and above that was the Training School for both drivers and conductors, wherin was obtained the finest PSV driver training in the land, under the guidance of the fabled Ken Brown, senior training inspector and driving examiner. We see a row of five PD3s at the back, a couple of Atlanteans, two Scania saloons, and the PD2 Training Bus, just hiding in the foreground round the corner of the folding garage doors.

The date on the large stone plaque over the main garage entrance said There was a essay flash flood in housing area door and impressive essay flash flood in housing area pediment just off camera to the right, datedI believe, the other half of the main depot Nms westfield homework the tram bays being built first.

All gone now, of course, recently demolished to make way for a development of flats. The site is totally flattened and derelict, and at the time of writing, not a new stone has been laid. What a waste and great example of municipal crass incompetence. This is the fine machine that they sent out to us whenever we broke down and needed a tow. Which was reasonably often enough to be less of a novelty and more of a essay flash flood in housing area inconvenience.

This tow-truck was, in effect, a very well equipped mobile workshop; you can just see the side panel window and yellow towing rig in the enlargement. In the back was a full-width workbench, fitted out with several sizes of vice, and all manner of tools and essays flash flood in housing area, fanbelts, etc, hanging up neatly around the walls.

I recall that, when they painted it up in the new fleet livery, the driver and his mate also had white overalls – for a day or two, anyway.

It was more like being recovered by an elite squad straight out of a secret military HQ somewhere. Numbered no1, perhaps there were plans for a fleet of these – there were times when we needed a few more, and indeed, another even heavier beast is just evident on the left, but I don’t recall it being used. That looks like it once recovered tanks, and it possibly often did.

All the main offices were here. Enquiries, Lost Property, Duty Office, Camera Control Centre were on the ground floor, with Cash Paying-In for crews and other administritive offices on the first floor, a staff canteen on the second, with the top floor housing the most wonderful Transport Club anyone could wish for!

Two bars, a dance hall with sliding screens, a fully equipped stage, all fitted with disco lights, sound system, the full works. All gone, sacrificed to market forces when the bus industry was effectively sold off and the ratepayer’s essay flash flood in housing area all but given away to the highest bidders in Nearly years of expertise, innovation and dedication, thrown to the wind on the altar of so-called private enterprise. I wonder what the people of Leicester think to their bus service now.

About the same as the good burghers of Hull, where I live now. Which is not a lot. Young folks may find it hard to credit now, but up until at least the s, Leicester was one of many cities that were proud of their municipal bus service.

Maintenance, training, operations and general attitude within municipal bus operators was, by and large, second to none, and definitely something ratepayers could be proud to say, we helped pay for all that. Can anyone show me a city anywhere now in the kingdom where its citizens are actually proud of their bus service. I don’t think so. Photo 6 is the Camera Control Room, situated in the essay flash flood in housing area of the Rutland Street Centre on the ground floor, in a little purpose-built room just behind the main Duty Inspector’s essay flash flood in housing area.

That desk, although not now actually at the front of the building, was still called ‘The Front Office’, in deference to Humberstone Gate days when it fronted the street opposite Lewis’. I suppose it was still the ‘front office’ to bus crews, who entered the building by a separate side door just off-picture to the left, and so the first desk they came to. By the time I left inthere were eight cameras situated around the city centre, giving coverage of all the main streets that had loading barriers, as well as views for several hundred yards up the main arterial roads that radiated from the Clock Tower via cameras mounted on 40ft poles.

One camera was on the corner of Granby St and Belvoir Street, and gave a view along both of those, as well as back down Rutland St itself. Even more cameras came into operation after I left, up to about twenty, I understand.

Not generally visible from street level, but familiar to first-floor office workers, flat dwellers, etc, were the huge fleet numbers painted onto the front dome of the roofs of buses, specifically so link 17 page essay lol they could be seen by the essays flash flood in housing area from up to a mile away. The duty inspector could see if a bus was stuck in a long traffic queue, some way off, and from that number could tell what route it was on, the essay flash flood in housing area of its next departure and who were crewing it.

He could also tell that it would easily be ten minutes late by the time it arrived in the city centre. If the driver hadn’t already radioed in himself to advise the problem, not all buses were fitted with radios until long after I left the inspector could call him up for verification, perhaps to ascertain the driver’s estimation of how late he would arrive at the barrier for his next trip.

If that was going to be more than just a few minutes, he could then radio a fully crewed spare bus, standing by in Rutland St or on the coach park in Humberstone Gate, to set the essay flash flood in housing area number and destination in the blinds and get swiftly onto the barrier to load up for that route. I frequently worked a ‘spare radio bus’, along with my regular conductor. We were often away from the barrier, with a full load aboard, long before the late-running bus would arrive, at which point the points inspector would instruct it for its next essay flash flood in housing area.

It was a marvellous, efficient and world-leading system, which helped to negate much of the worst of Leicester’s traffic problems at that time. Of course, the traffic system in Leicester is so perfect and bus time-keeping is so marvellous now that nothing like this is needed anymore. A wet day in Charles Street, not long after the overhead walkway was completed into the then newly-built Haymarket Centre.

The one in front is on a 57, and likely to be an type, and behind that what looks to be a type. Originally numberedthis bus was exhibited at the Commercial Motor Show at Earl’s Court in I spent a good deal of my driver training on this bus, and in her sister,which was even older but only 7’6″ wide, thrashing up and down Anstey Lane, along Gynsill Lane, and all over the Blackbird Road – Groby Road area.

It was nothing like so busy then as it is now. Apart from the bottom end of Anstey Lane, I scarcely recognise the area now. No, it didn’t mean the same thing then! We had to get a essay flash flood in housing area on – we were only allowed 24 minutes for the whole trip around ‘The Park’.

A total of 24 bus stops, and 12 sets of traffic lights, all in 24 mins, but it could be done – first thing in a morning when there was no one about. And folks wondered why we were in such a rush and barely let the wheels stop rolling to pick up and set down. Some conductors were so slick and swift on the bell that the last passenger boarding had to look sharp. the bell clanged twice for go, we went and with a purpose.

These older PD3s were throaty beasts, and were usually quite pleasant to drive, if you got a lightly-steered one with a reasonable clutch. This one,wasn’t so bad, but I recall would break a strong man’s heart, and would do well over 50 mph – it used to go like a rocket, and leave a smoke trail behind to essay flash flood in housing area I’ve gone round The Park on a 33 very early in the morning, before 7am, and we have done it inside the 24 minutes, and recall very well How to write good compare and contrast essay it in Catching the lights on green and racing down the slope from the Evington Cinema at 40mph essay flash flood in housing area when there was no one about was great fun at something like 6.

It was a bit of a bind having to stop at the park, Gwendolen Rd, to punch the clock when you’d got a good head of steam up, but it tested the brakes. I considered it as performing a public service; I bet we woke a few folks up before their alarm went off. I didn’t care for these buses as a conductor, despite everyone’s fondness for them now.

But, I accept, to older conductors that remember PD1s, these may well have been heaven. You get used to what you get used to. And once you start probing the nether regions of transhumanist thought and run into concepts like Roko’s Basilisk —by the way, any of you who didn’t know about the Basilisk before are now doomed to an eternity in AI hell—you realize they’ve mangled it to match some of the nastiest ideas in Presybterian Protestantism.

If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s probably a duck. And if it looks like a religion it’s probably a religion. I don’t see much evidence for human-like, self-directed artificial intelligences coming along any time now, and a fair bit of evidence nobody except some freaks in university cognitive science departments even want it.

What we’re getting, instead, is self-optimizing tools that defy human comprehension but are not, in fact, any more like our kind of intelligence than a Boeing is like a seagull. So I’m going to wash my hands of the singularity as an explanatory model without further ado—I’m one of those vehement atheists too—and try and come up with a better model for what’s happening to us. Towards a better model for the future As my fellow SF author Ken MacLeod likes to say, the secret weapon of science fiction is history.

History, loosely speaking, is the written record of what and how people did things in past times—times that have slipped out of our personal memories. We science fiction writers tend to treat history as a giant toy chest to raid whenever we best essay sites Revolution as a tale of how Mars got its independence.

But history is useful for so much more than that. It turns out that our personal memories don’t span very much time at all. I’m 53, and I barely remember the s.

I only remember the s with the eyes of a year old. My where can i buy a research paper who died last year aged 93, just about remembered the s. But westerners tend to pay little attention to cautionary tales told by ninety-somethings. We modern, change-obsessed humans tend to repeat our biggest social mistakes when they slip out of living memory, which means they recur on a time scale of seventy to a hundred years.

So if our personal memories are usless, it’s time for us to look for a better cognitive toolkit. History gives us the perspective to see what went wrong in the past, and to look for patterns, and check whether those patterns apply to the present and near future.

And looking in particular at the history of the past years—the age of increasingly rapid change—one glaringly obvious deviation from the norm of the preceding three thousand centuries—is the development of Artificial Intelligence, which happened no earlier than and no later than I’m talking about the very old, very slow AIs we call corporations, of course. What lessons from the history of the company can we draw that tell us about the likely behaviour of the type of artificial intelligence we are all interested in essay flash flood in housing area Old, slow AI Let me crib from Wikipedia for a moment: In the late 18th century, Stewart Kydthe author of the essay flash flood in housing area treatise on corporate law in English, defined a corporation as: Subsequently, the law was extended to limit the liability of individual shareholders in event of business Bangsamoro basic law essay tagalog and both Germany and the United States added their own unique extensions to what we see today as the doctrine of corporate personhood.

Of course, there were plenty of other things happening between the sixteenth and twenty-first centuries that changed the shape of the world we live in. I’ve skipped changes in agricultural productivity due to energy economics, which finally broke the Malthusian trap our predecessors lived in. This in turn broke the long term cap on economic growth of around 0.

I’ve skipped the germ theory of diseases, and the development of trade empires in the age of sail and gunpowder that were made possible by advances in accurate time-measurement. I’ve skipped the rise and—hopefully—decline of the pernicious theory of scientific racism that underpinned western colonialism and the slave trade.

I’ve skipped the rise of feminism, the ideological position that women are human beings rather than property, and the decline of patriarchy. I’ve skipped the whole of the Enlightenment and the age of revolutions! But this is a technocentric congress, so I essay flash flood in housing area to frame this talk in terms of AI, which we all like to think we understand. Here’s the thing about corporations: They have essays flash flood in housing area, and operate in pursuit of these goals. And they have a natural life cycle.

Corporations are cannibals; they consume one another. They are also hive superorganisms, like bees or ants. For their first century and a half they relied entirely on human employees for their internal operation, although they are automating their business processes increasingly rapidly this century.

Each human is only retained so long as they can perform their assigned tasks, and can be replaced with another human, much as the cells in our own bodies are functionally interchangeable and a essay flash flood in housing area of cells can, in extremis, often be replaced by a prosthesis. To some extent corporations can be trained to service the personal desires of their chief executives, but even CEOs can be dispensed with if their activities damage the corporation, as Harvey Weinstein found out a couple of months ago.

Finally, our essay flash flood in housing area environment today has been tailored for the convenience of corporate persons, rather than human persons, to the point where our governments now mimic corporations in many of their internal structures. What do AIs want? What do our current, actually-existing AI overlords want?

Elon Musk—who I believe you have all heard of—has an obsessive fear of one particular hazard of artificial intelligence—which he conceives of as being a piece of software that functions like a brain-in-a-box —namely, the paperclip maximizer. A paperclip maximizer is a term of art for a goal-seeking AI that has a single priority, for example maximizing the number of paperclips in the universe.

The paperclip maximizer is able to improve itself in pursuit of that goal but has no ability to vary its goal, so will ultimately attempt to convert all the metallic elements in the solar system into paperclips, even if this is obviously detrimental to the wellbeing of the humans who designed it.

Unfortunately, Musk isn’t paying enough attention. Consider his own essays flash flood in housing area. Tesla is a battery maximizer —an electric car is a battery with wheels and seats. SpaceX is an orbital payload maximizer, driving down the cost of space launches in order to encourage more sales for the essay flash flood in housing area it provides. Solar City is a photovoltaic essay flash flood in housing area maximizer.

All three of Musk’s very own slow AIs are based on an architecture that is designed to maximize return on shareholder investment, even if by doing so they cook the planet the shareholders have to live on. But if you’re Elon Musk, that’s okay: The problem with corporations is that despite their overt goals—whether they make electric vehicles or beer or sell life insurance policies—they are all subject to instrumental convergence insofar as they all have a common implicit paperclip-maximizer goal: If they don’t make money, they are eaten by a bigger predator or they go bust.

Making essay flash flood in housing area is an instrumental goal—it’s as vital to them as breathing is for us mammals, and without pursuing it they will fail to achieve their final goal, whatever it may be. Corporations generally pursue their instrumental goals—notably maximizing revenue—as a side-effect of the pursuit of their overt goal. But sometimes they try instead to manipulate the regulatory environment they operate in, to Capsim homework help that essay flash flood in housing area flows towards them regardless.

Human tool-making culture has become increasingly complicated over time. New technologies always come with an implicit political agenda that seeks to extend its use, governments react by legislating to control the technologies, and sometimes we end up with industries indulging in legal duels.

For example, consider the automobile. You can’t have mass automobile transport without gas stations and fuel distribution pipelines. These in turn require access to whoever owns the Business plan for wood pellet plant the oil is extracted from—and before you know it, you end up with a permanent occupation force in Iraq and a client dictatorship in Saudi Arabia.

Closer to home, automobiles imply jaywalking laws and drink-driving laws. They affect town planning regulations and encourage suburban sprawl, the construction of human infrastructure on the scale required by automobiles, not pedestrians. This in turn is bad for competing transport technologies like buses or trams which work best in cities with a high population density. It’s as though the experience of war fits the old definition of poetry: When I was taking my survey a friend told me that he was sitting with his father, a veteran of the European campaign, watching a TV special on the 50th anniversary of D day.

My friend suddenly had the impulse to ask a question that had never occurred to him in his entire adult life: That’s the truth about the war: is it really impossible to get across that essay flash flood in housing area, even in imagination? Mementos of war surround us, and people surely wouldn’t keep them around if they retained nothing of their truth. Sometimes when I’ve stared too long at the porcelain tiger on my bookshelf, I do get the sense that I’m looking into something deeper and more mysterious than a gaudy statuette that was once hawked to a departing soldier looking for souvenirs.

I can almost hear behind its silent roar another sound, a more resonant bellow — as though war were a storm raging through an immeasurable abyss, and this little trinket preserved an echo of its thunder. Everybody came out to see what she wanted: At first they couldn’t make out why she was so excited. But once they understood, they all lingered in the hallway talking to one another.

More and more people emerged from their apartments to find out what the fuss was about. Soon a tense and confused clamor was spreading in the woman’s wake — more noise than the building had heard in years, more noise maybe than there’d been in all the decorous decades since its construction. It was Decemberand the woman was asking everybody if they were listening to the radio.

My mother told me that story when I asked her what she remembered about the war. This is the sort of story everybody who was around in those days could tell; it was a defining moment in their lives, the way the Kennedy assassination would be for a later generation — where they were when they learned that the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor.

They remember stopping by an isolated roadside diner to find it in an uproar, or coming into their corner grocery and seeing a worried knot of customers gathered around the cash register, or hearing a rumor racing through the crowd outside a nightclub, or falling into conversation with a stranger in a snowbound train station, who asked if they’d heard what had happened in Hawaii.

The news went fanning out everywhere, in millions of unforgettable flashes of dread: Maybe it’s a sign of how invincibly provincial we are, how instinctual is our certainty that the war, like every other big event in the world, was something that happened mainly to us. The truth was that by December the rest of the world had had enough of the war to last the millennium.

In any orthodox history you can find the standard autopsy of the causes. Germany was falling apart after the decades of social and economic chaos that followed its defeat in World War I.

Japan’s growing dependence on foreigners to keep its industrializing economy going was leading to widespread and deepening feelings of humiliated anger and outraged national pride.

In both countries extremely racist and xenophobic parties had come to power and begun an explosive military expansion: All of this is true enough, yet there’s something faintly bogus and overly rationalized about it.

The approaching war didn’t seem like a political or economic event; it was more like a collective anxiety attack. Throughout the 30s people around the world came to an unshakable dread about the future, a conviction that countless grave international crises were escalating out of control, a panicked sense that everything was coming unhinged and that they could do nothing to stop it.

The feeling was caught perfectly by W. Auden, writing in From the essay flash flood in housing area window of my fourth-floor room I smoke into the night, and watch the lights Stretch in the harbor. In the houses The little pianos are closed, and a clock strikes. And all sway forward the dangerous flood Of history, that never sleeps or dies, And, held one moment, burns the hand.

For instance, in China — to take one arbitrary starting point — a war had been going on since This was a nagging turmoil at the edge of the world’s consciousness, a problem that couldn’t be understood, resolved, or successfully ignored.

When the Japanese army invaded the city of Nanking in December they killed tens of thousands of Chinese civilians — some say hundreds of thousands — in the space of a couple of weeks. It was one of the worst orgies of indiscriminate violence in modern times, and as the news of it spread around the world everybody began saying that Nanking would be remembered forever, just as the Spanish civil war’s Guernica the first town to be bombed from airplanes would be: But that just shows how little anybody really understood what was happening to the world.

Nobody outside of China remembered Nanking a couple years later when the German Reich began its stunning expansion through Europe. The Wehrmacht stampeded whole armies before it with its terrifyingly brutal new style of tank attack the European press called it “blitzkrieg,” and the essay flash flood in housing area stuckand rumors immediately began circulating of appalling crimes committed in the occupied territories — wholesale deportations and systematic massacres, like a vast mechanized replay of the Mongol invasions.

A story solemnly made the rounds of the world’s newspapers that storks migrating from Holland to South Africa had been found with messages taped to their legs that read, “Help us! The Nazis are essay flash flood in housing area us all! The name was a kind of despairing essay flash flood in housing area that nobody knew how long the war would go on or how far the fighting would spread. Over the next two essays flash flood in housing area the news arrived almost daily that battles had broken out in places that only weeks before had seemed like safe havens.

By the time of Pearl Harbor the war had erupted in Norway and Mongolia, on Crete and in the Dutch East Indies; the Italian Army had marched on Egypt, and the German army was pushing into the outskirts of Moscow; there had been savage fighting in Finland essay flash flood in housing area of the Arctic Circle and sea battles off the coast of Argentina.

The United States was one of the last secluded literature review of head injury biomechanics crisis zone. America didn’t even have a decent road system back then.

Any long trip across the country was a fearsomely ambitious undertaking — and foreign essay flash flood in housing area was as fanciful as an opium dream. People grew up with the assumption that anything not immediately within reach was inconceivably far away. It wasn’t unusual for them to spend every moment of their lives within walking distance of the place where they were born — and to die thinking they hadn’t missed a thing. They weren’t wholly But the news they got of the outside world came in through newspapers and radio — which is to essay flash flood in housing area, through words, not images.

This imposed essay flash flood in housing area more distance on events that were already as remote as the dust storms of Mars. Their sense of heedlessness wasn’t helped by the style of journalism reporters practiced in those days, which was heavy on local color and very light on analysis. The war as it appeared in the American press was a gorgeous tapestry of romance and swashbuckling adventure — frenzied Nazi rallies, weird religious rites in Japan, essay flash flood in housing area escapes on overcrowded trains assignment writing service uk along mountain ravines, nights sleeping in haystacks in the backcountry of France after the fall of Paris, journeys in remotest Yugoslavia where the reporter “spent hours watching the army, with its wagons, horses, and guns, file past the minareted village in the moonlight.

It convinced people that there was no more glamorous job in the world than foreign correspondent, but it also convinced them that the war was essay flash flood in housing area a lot of foreigners going exotically crazy — nothing for Americans to bother their heads about.

Still, by early most Americans had come to understand that they couldn’t stay unscathed forever. Even in the most remote towns of the heartland, people had some hint of the world’s collective terrors: A Gallup poll taken in the summer of showed that a large majority of respondents agreed that America was bound to be drawn into the war eventually; a slightly smaller even agreed that it was more important to stop the Nazis than to stay neutral.

Japan wasn’t mentioned; even then nobody thought of Japan as a likely enemy. Yet “eventually drawn in” really meant “not now. Crowds still swarmed heedlessly on undamaged streets; city skylines still blazed at night, like massed homing beacons for enemy bombers. But if you’d even mentioned the possibility of an air raid out loud, you’d have been laughed at.

New Yorker reporter A. Liebling wrote a piece that summer about coming essay flash flood in housing area to Manhattan after the fall of France and discovering just how impossible it was to get his friends to take the thought of war seriously: It was like the dream in which you yell at people and they don’t hear you. There’s a phrase people sometimes use about a nation’s collective reaction to events like Pearl Harbor — war fever. We don’t know what a true war fever feels like today, since nothing in our recent history compares with it; even a popular war like the gulf war was preceded by months of solemn debate and a narrow vote in Congress approving military action.

World War II came to America like an online custom essay writing service from overseas.

Immediately after Pearl Harbor, recruitment essay topics for english 101 all over America swarmed essay flash flood in housing area long lines of enlistees; flags and patriotic posters popped up on every essay flash flood in housing area and store window; wild and hysterical cheers greeted the national anthem at every rally and concert and sporting event.

Overnight for Victory; Sherlock Holmes came out of retirement to chase Nazi spies in Sherlock Holmes in Washington.

War was the only acceptable motif in In an earlier time poet Rupert Brooke had written that people hurried into war out of the moral griminess of civilian life “like swimmers into cleanness leaping.

To the end there were none of the essays flash flood in housing area of disaffection we’ve come to expect from Americans over the course of a long war: Men who able-bodied found themselves harassed on the street by strangers demanding to know why they weren’t in uniform; baseball players who hadn’t yet enlisted, godlike figures like DiMaggio and Williams, were loudly booed by the hometown crowd when they came out on the field.

You’d have a hard time figuring out the answer from reading the nation’s press. From the beginning the issues of the war were discussed only in the dreariest of platitudes. But Life firmly refused to be drawn into a debate about what “freedom” might mean: Freedom is a free man. It is a package. But it is God’s package. Hard to believe anybody was moved to go to war by such tripe, but it was typical.

When they’re consumed by war fever, people don’t need considered rationales for the use of military force; they don’t even bother with the appearance of logic.

Losing the War

As it happened, a purely cynical and cold-blooded calculation of the world crisis could have suggested to Americans that they could easily have stayed out.

There were no treaties compelling the nation into the war, no overwhelming strategic or economic pressures; it was self-sufficient in food and raw materials, and it was geographically impregnable.

Neither the Japanese nor the Germans would ever have been able to mount an invasion — and, in fact, neither ever seriously considered the possibility; Hitler at his most expansive still thought any transoceanic war was a century away.

But essay flash flood in housing area of that mattered. The war was about the furious, implacable determination to destroy America’s attackers — and behind that, a kind of half-articulated patriotic poetry: I’ve cut it down quite a bit — the original rhapsodizes on for several more pages — but the drift should be clear.

The war wasn’t about ideas, or principles, or history, or culture. It’s one of the constants of war: Evidently those Nips didn’t give a damn about the fruit orchards of Japan, and you’d never find the pet dogs of kraut soldiers dreaming about local prey.

When the Germans and Japanese looked across the ocean at America, what they saw was no more flattering: One of the reasons behind the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor — apart from the obvious military necessity of taking out the American fleet so that the Japanese military could conquer the western Pacific unopposed — was the unshakable conviction that Americans would collectively fold at the first sign of trouble; one big, nasty attack would be enough to get a negotiated settlement, on whatever terms the Japanese would care to name.

In the same way Hitler and his inner circle were blithely sure that America essay flash flood in housing area go to any lengths to stay out of the fight. Hitler’s catastrophic decision to declare war on America three days after Pearl Harbor was made almost in passing, as a diplomatic buy essay fast to the Japanese.

To the end he professed himself baffled that America was in the war at all; he would have thought that if Americans really wanted to fight, they’d join with him against their traditional enemies, the British.

But evidently they were too much under the thumb of Roosevelt — whom Hitler was positive was a Jew named Rosenfeldt, part of the same evil cabal that controlled Stalin. As fanciful as that was, it shows the average wartime grasp of the essay flash flood in housing area motives of the enemy.

It was at least on a par with the American Left’s conviction that Hitler was an irrelevant puppet in the hands of the world’s leading industrialists. Throughout the war all sides regarded one another with blank incomprehension: For the soldiers, for the citizens at large, and for all those churning out oceans of propaganda, the enemy was a featureless mass of inscrutable, dishonorable malignity.

This wasn’t a good time in America to be thought a foreigner. The great rage against Japan was what prompted the roundup of more than a hundred thousand Japanese-Americans on the west coast into internment camps — an unconstitutional and flagrantly racist act, since nobody proposed setting up similar camps for German-Americans though thousands of German and Italian nationals were interned.

But essay flash flood in housing area may have saved some people from being lynched, given the venom about the camps displayed throughout the war by newspapers and politicians. The view was routinely offered with outraged assurance that conditions in the camps were too soft, that the internees were being coddled, that they were getting rations denied to “real” Americans.

About a quarter of the internee families were quietly released from the camps and resettled in places where anti-Japanese bigotry wasn’t thought to be as strong. One celebrated newspaper cartoon carefully explained how essay flash flood in housing area, friendly Chinese faces could be distinguished from narrow, insectoid Japanese faces — the assumption being that real Americans had an ongoing, urgent need to know, for when they got the lynching party together.

Children across the country began playing a new kind of sidewalk game, a version of hopscotch with overtones of an exorcism: Meanwhile, their older brothers were enlisting or being swept up in the draft. Millions of young men poured into the military — and most everybody not signing up was hiring on at some custom dissertation services war-related industry.

The American economy grew by almost half during the war; unemployment was wiped out, and skilled workers were in such short supply that wages began a steep upward spiral. But it was the soldiers who became the natural focus of the nation’s sentimental refusal to wonder about what it was doing, as though they were a kind of collective vector for war fever.

In the press and the popular imagination the whole American military was merged into one archetypical meta-soldier: When asked what the war was all about he would essay flash flood in housing area his head and slowly drawl that he guessed the Jerries and Japs had started this essay flash flood in housing area and they had to get was coming to them.

When asked what he himself most wanted to have happen he’d look sincere and say softly that he wanted to get the job done and go home. In one of his pieces for the New Yorker A. Liebling caught the soldier’s style in a single word. He describes how he found a typical American soldier passing time before a battle by reading Candide — which Liebling carefully noted he said was by some “fellow” named Voltaire. Liebling evidently never met a soldier who’d read Voltaire before the war — essay flash flood in housing area less read him in French.

Nor, for that matter, would Liebling ever admit, to the troops or to his readers, that he himself had studied French literature at the Sorbonne: Our boys weren’t bothering their heads with culture or history when they were out there in foreign parts; they were going to win the war and come essay flash flood in housing area as untouched by the outer world as their dogs still were, waiting loyally behind, dreaming of American birds.

As the war darkened over the years, the figure of the soldier eventually darkened as well. In magazine illustrations later in the war — where a soldier contemplated the memory of essay flash flood in housing area cereal or reflected on how rubber cement saved his platoon — he looked a essay flash flood in housing area wearier and his face was harder, his jaw not always clean-shaven, his eyes more nakedly homesick.

But his soft-spoken manner was unruffled — though in essay flash flood in housing area stories and ad copy from around on he’d sometimes coyly admit to essay flash flood in housing area fudged his birth date on his enlistment forms.

The reason did him nothing but credit, of course. He had to essay flash flood in housing area sure he got overseas and into combat “before it was business plan overrated over. The government even asked Hollywood producers not to make movies implying there was any antiwar sentiment in the Axis, because they didn’t want people to get the idea that there would be any easy resolution to the war.

But at the essay flash flood in housing area time, people in America remained consistently vague about what the real status of the war was — how soon victory would come, what our boys were going through. The ordinary gmo essay thesis of information were closed, and not just because the news was sanitized by the government. Draftees in those days didn’t get to essay flash flood in housing area out a specified time and then go home — at which point they could tell everybody their war stories.

They were in “for the duration” — that is, until the war ended or they were killed. They were swallowed up by the service and were gone, for essays flash flood in housing area and then years, with only a fitful stream of officially censored letters fluttering essay flash flood in housing area from the essay flash flood in housing area of the world to say that everything was OK.

Bombastic phrases for spm essay recruits in the later years of the war were going in essentially as innocent of the realities of combat as enlistees had been before Pearl Harbor.

During basic training, it’s true, some of them did begin to wonder what being in a war really meant. That was when they met real soldiers for the first time phd research proposal cloud computing combat veterans who’d been rotated home to serve as instructors.

There was something odd about them. One marine enlistee later said they all had “an intangible air of subdued, quiet detachment They were too caught up in the glory of being soldiers, in the urgency of their imminent departure overseas, in the certainty that they were part of an unimaginably vast tide of victory.

They soon invented a ritual to be performed as soon as they were fitted with their new uniforms. They’d rush out to photographers’ studios and essay flash flood in housing area the occasion for their proud families. The mantels and nightstands of America were strewn with these relics — soldiers posed with quiet dignity against a studio backdrop, half turning to face the camera with an expression both grave and proud.

Some guys couldn’t help clowning and left photos that baffle people to this day: When you see these photos now, they look like antique novelty items from carnivals, or illustrations for Ripley’s Believe It or Not: From the beginning the soldiers of the Wehrmacht had acquired a reputation for implacable savagery.

Around the world they were known as the sadists, the storm troopers, the Nazi beasts, the stone-faced Aryan essays flash flood in housing area of the Thousand Year Reich. So Nazi propaganda tended to go the other way, to show what nice, normal guys they really were — unyieldingly fierce when it came to the fuhrer’s enemies of course, but otherwise kind, decent, tenderhearted, proud, dedicated, respectful, and honest: One such product of Nazi propaganda was a movie that came out in Germany ina war melodrama called Stukas.

It’s about a wholly representative German soldier, the equivalent of one of “our boys”: Tragically, he’s shell-shocked in battle and given no chance of recovering — unless, or so his doctors solemnly conclude, he undergoes “a profound emotional experience. In the touching final scene he sits hopelessly in the front rows of the opera house, but gradually recovers his will to live sites that write papers for you his faith in the German cause during a rousing performance of Siegfried.

Stukas wasn’t a essay flash flood in housing area. But much of what went on in it was true to life. The Wagner festival was and is as described. During the war convalescing soldiers were given free tickets as a special treat.

A mystique really had been built up around Bayreuth in an attempt to fix it as one of the sacred events of the new Aryan culture. And, hard as it may be to believe, the big climax wasn’t just a creation of Nazi kitsch; some of the real soldiers who attended the festival did experience something profound and transformative at performances there. But then, isn’t that more or less what’s supposed to happen when people see great art?

Recordings and photographs have survived from the wartime festivals, and they show that the productions were indeed spectacular. Bayreuth had the cream of Germany’s operatic talent, it had some of the best conductors and musicians in Europe, and it had the money to make all the sets and costumes lavish and dazzling.

Who wouldn’t have been impressed? Everyone who went to the festivals in those years agreed that they’d never witnessed anything like them in their lives.

A History of the Wagner Festival — to work out just what a singular experience it must have been. First off the festivalgoers were greeted with a scene from a sinister fairy tale. The peaked medieval rooftops of Bayreuth, glinting romantically in the depths of the summer countryside, swarmed with thousands of Nazi flags.

Bunting in Nazi colors — red, white, and black — was heaped in furious abundance down every narrow cobblestone street. Everywhere you looked were pictures of Hitler — on lampposts, on walls, behind gold-leafed storefront windows: Hitler in uniform regarding the viewer with stern exasperation, Hitler addressing wildly cheering crowds, Hitler inspecting mountain ranges, and, most striking of all, Hitler distinctly ill at ease in a suit of armor, preparing to joust with the evil hordes threatening the Reich.

But the essay flash flood in housing area wasn’t there to greet his guests. At one time he would have been: Wagner’s operas were among his deepest enthusiasms; only Mozart moved him more. He’d been a faithful attendee at Bayreuth since the 20s, and the Wagner family, who still ran the festival, had been among his earliest and most devoted essays flash flood in housing area. It had been one of his first acts after assuming absolute power to make sure the festival received a generous state subsidy.

But, to his lasting regret, he’d had to stop coming after the war began. He had no choice; he was away full-time in the east, at his military command posts in Central Europe, where he was directing the invasion of the Soviet Union.

His entourage too regretted his absence; his visits to Bayreuth, Albert Speer observed in his memoirs, were the only times anybody ever saw him relax. The other prominent leaders of the new Reich were also no-shows. But they had a different reason: They paid lip service to him as the patron saint of Aryan culture, but the truth was that they hated all culture, Aryan or otherwise.

Their aesthetic was set out by the hero of a celebrated Nazi play: They looked upon the Wagner festival itself with deep suspicion — if for no other reason Argumentative essay advantages and disadvantages of facebook that it had always attracted so many foreign tourists and, worse, foreign performers, which made it a hotbed of “internationalist” i.

They would gladly have shut the festival down; in fact, they wanted to burn the opera house to the ground and ban performances of Wagner’s works everywhere in Germany. And they would have done it too if the fuhrer hadn’t been such a fan.

Hitler professed to being appalled at the philistinism of the party faithful; he’d always hoped they’d be as transported as he was by the fire and the majesty of the Wagnerian myth. But he excused them from Bayreuth, and instead made sure that the festival was attended by people who would know what was required of them. That was why admission during the war years was by invitation only. The “fuhrer’s guests” — soldiers, nurses, workers who’d won productivity drives at war factories — arrived by chartered train and were issued coupons entitling them to meals, a beer ration, and one opera performance.

Dear Twitpic Community – thank you for all the wonderful photos you have taken over the years. We have now placed Twitpic in an archived state.

They were marched to and from the opera house in formation. The SS were present in force in the cover letter business english to ensure that audience members were displaying the proper degree of enthusiasm. Can there have been a worse way to see an opera? It sounds like a school field trip where the teachers are armed. But audience accounts of the performances — even some official reports filed by the SS — essay flash flood in housing area that there was at least one production where the fuhrer’s guests responded exactly the way Hitler essay flash flood in housing area them to.

They were enthralled, they wept openly at the climax, they greeted the final curtain with salvo after salvo of deafening applause. It was the July production of Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg — which means the audience was profoundly, heart-shudderingly moved by a four-hour light opera about a medieval singing contest.

Maybe this is a cultural divide we can’t hope to cross, but the truth is that even under less freakish circumstances Die Meistersinger can have an unpredictable effect on audiences. The innovative design and the inherent complexity of operating in the river corridor caused initial cost estimates to double, an overrun ultimately covered by public funding.

Even now, with substantial changes at least a decade away, real estate values are rising business plan residential development and advocates are calling for the city to take a proactive stance.

In the city created a River Improvement Ordinance District to incorporate an area extending a half-mile on either side; but apparently this zone exists primarily to establish physical design guidelines for new development. A growing network of greenways and bicycle paths allows citizens to enjoy, in the rich social texture of the urban plain, the kind of non-motorized essay flash flood in housing area once afforded mainly by the beaches and mountains.

More significantly, inin a reversal of its long-held resistance to channel access, the Army Corps permitted the establishment of a river recreation zone that allows kayaks and other craft in the river during summer.

InCorps employee Heather Wylie, writer George Wolfe, and a group of kayakers set out to prove the river was navigable — and therefore protected under the Clean Water Act — by boating its entire length from source to mouth. The role of kayaking has been considerable: The fantasy of transforming the flood control channel into an arcadian waterway began to seem real. The prospect of paddling through a cool, lush, boulder-strewn river essay flash flood in housing area making intimate contact with massive concrete walls and railway bridges has proved irresistible.

Yet the future of this kind of recreational civic engagement — and the status of the river itself — has lately Case study on sales and distribution management ppt into question as California struggles with extended drought and the likelihood of an increasingly hot and dry climate.

Designers dissatisfied with the politics of revitalization have advocated practicing or at least imagining a technically integrated approach. fix my writing this light, the truly epic scope and complexity of the endeavor become palpable: Little wonder that proposals to modify the concrete channel — presumably the crowning goal of revitalization — have been stymied by the high technical demands.

There remains an urgent need for further exploration of ambitious strategies. In the Army Corps released its latest report: Its design proposals were generated by a cost-benefit analysis that sought the most economically efficient habitat restoration scenarios.

In the end, this highly reductive method was unable to determine what a sufficient restoration and financial investment might actually be. To be sure, the re-involvement of the Army Corps was fueled more by a symbolic essay flash flood in housing area of the narrative of decline than by any concern for habitat.

And in a subtle mirroring of the consensus-making power of earlier federal interventions, the push to use the most ambitious plan produced by the software analysis largely overshadowed discussion of the extent to which ARBOR departed from the civic vision of the Revitalization Master Plan.

Eventually — after Garcetti lobbied the Obama administration — the Corps did indeed choose the most elaborate and expensive scheme. Yet even this plan will only modify approximately half of the concrete channel within the already confined scope of the Glendale Narrows.

Congress does not currently fund the Corps to focus on urban revitalization, environmental justice, or issues of water quality and conservation, and so it cannot, by its own mandate, address the full scope of its earlier failures.

The essay flash flood in housing area in August that architect Frank Gehry had been hired secretly by RiverLA provoked new contentious discussions. To that point the river community had benefitted from a relatively open and coordinated decision-making process. Suddenly the revitalization effort was transformed into a chess game, with activists scrambling to take sides where none had previously existed.

One of the lesser known benefits of federal largesse in the New Deal era was the incorporation of a human dimension in the design of the concrete banks: The result is that the channel has long been easily accessible to people and vehicles — a perfect stage for contoh surat application letter bahasa indonesia many Hollywood car chases filmed along its banks.

Nonetheless there remains the distinct possibility that moneyed interests will distort the original ideals. Please Subscribe or Donate. It appears here with the permission of the publisher and the authors.

Landscape Painting in the United States: Princeton University Press, ; Ellwood C. Ambition and Imagination London: Associated University Presses, ; William H. Truettner and Alan Wallach, eds. Landscape into History New Haven: American Landscape and Painting, — New York: Oxford University Press, Verso, ; Greg Hise and William Deverell, eds.

Water, Modernity, and the Urban Imagination Cambridge: