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Many people use maps. They help us find where we want to go. Letâs visit a national park! Weâll use a map to see where things are. We need to park our car. How do we find our way to the parking lot? Look on the map. There are some parking lots in the national park! This park has animals. How do we know where they are? This map shows where each animal lives. Letâs visit the deer first.
Quiz by Ralph Ramos
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âOn this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when Iâm no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your âdeadâ Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when Iâm only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!â Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasnât what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. Thereâs no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. âThatâs right,â I said aloud. âKnox, my-my Sovereign!â squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one Iâd never seen before or had failed to remember. âLook what Iâve found! Itâs wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I donât know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.â He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. âHow neat.â âI want you to have it, Sir.â I nodded my head. âYes, of course. Thank you.â Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until Iâm nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. âShut up,â I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorumâbiting down with square teeth laced with rabies. âIâve got you all something,â I said. âGo back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We donât want it.â A woman rose from the pile and spat. âYou donât even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.â âYour playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.â The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. âI remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, Iâm going to have an aneurysm!â the girl continued. âWhy not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?â I returned her accusing tone. âIâm sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel Iâve neglected my duties. Iâll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if Iâve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!â I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. âIâll just leave this here.â Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** â141, 143. . .â I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasnât moving at allâswallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. Youâve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. âDo you need help, Knox?â called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There mustâve been at least another hundred between me and her. âIâm hallucinating some,â I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. âIâm hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, weâd have to eliminate the âballâ aspect. It sounds too crude.â âOne foot in front of the other,â she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stultoâs bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. âLove,â I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. âAre you awake?â She said sheâd wait. Somebodyâs gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manorâs cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. âWhere is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?â Thereâs someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stultoâs bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depressionâSpes posing with her ax, Ariâs school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subjectâs essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustnât forget whose home theyâre in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ariâs from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. âDarling,â whispered the rosy-faced man, âlook.â He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. âGet out of my house,â I said. The man stayed in place. âGet out of my house,â I repeated. âKnox,â Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. âShut up!â I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. âGet out of my house! Iâll kill you!â âKnox!â Spes sobbed. âGod damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, thereâs less passion. God, God, God, I donât want to fuck a dead man!â she screamed, âYou get out! Get! Get!â My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind worldâeven my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the manâs head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wifeâs shoulder. âSpes!â My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. âYouâre insane,â he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. âGet up.â Staggering toward the bed, I said. âYou wanted passion? I showed you passion. âShoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .â I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. âI love you, Spes,â I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. âSpes, please. Please.â No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. âDad? I heardââ Ariâs slippered feet hammered across the floor. âMom? Mom?â I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. âShe-She isnâtâyourâ.â Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. âYouâre a murderer. Bad. Like they said,â she breathed, â You beat her!â The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. âMy-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . Iâm afraid heâs going to hurt me,â she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least sheâd be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. âNo,â I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. âStay with me.â But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. âTrials Sovereign Vsevolod âKnoxâ Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purityâs Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Lifeâs 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!â towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You arenât a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didnât dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. âKnox?â said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasnât confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasnât as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellarâs backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. âCome on, get up! Theyâre after you!â Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. âAnwen?â I rasped, âhu-who let you out?â Keys jangled in her handsâmy keys. âI escaped,â she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. âQuicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. âYou see that compost bin down the alley? Weâre gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, Iâll be on top, and I can hide you and act like Iâm just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.â With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. âI donât understand, Anwen,â I said. âTheyâre going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know theyâve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!â âI understand that.â It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. âYou said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?â âWhat else could I do? Leave you there?â Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. âDamn me to hell! Iâve killed her! My love is dead!â an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. âShut up! Soon youâll be, too, if you donât quiet down.â The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the binâs lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. âWhat are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,â I whispered. âThe search, mainly.â Aggression remained firey in Anwenâs clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. âDid you mean to kill her?â Anwen interrogated. âSomeone like you would immutably believe yes.â âAnd who is someone like me? You canât even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?â grating drama decorated her words. âYou know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breedâs faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.â I retorted. âI just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?â âIt makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.â âAnd why am I an idiot?â She asked. âBecause you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.â As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. âYou never answered my question,â Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crateâs exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. âNo. Of course not. Spes was my everything,â I sniffled. âI knew it. You couldnât even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.â My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and miseryâone to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as âsensitiveâ, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wifeâs tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. âThatâs why I think you could use a little help,â Anwen said, âIt seems like you canât walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.â She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. âTake off your tie and put up your hair. âWill make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.â
Animal Rights and Diet Success Criteria I can explain key terms which describe the type of diets people have I can explain the advantages and disadvantages of different types of diet Animal Rights and Diet Match up the terms with the meaning Term Meaning Omnivore - eats fish but no other type of meat Vegetarian - eats most types of meat and vegetables Pescetarian - doesnât eat any products that come from animals Vegan - doesnât eat meat but will eat dairy products like milk Place the different diets on a spectrum All meat No animal products at all Vegetarian Vegan Omnivore Pescetarian Omnivore Omnivore Most people in the UK are omnivores Match the countries with the amount of meat eaten per person per year Country Meat per person per year India 9.9 kg USA 4.4 kg Bangladesh 120 kg UK 111.5kg Nepal 84.2 kg Australia 4 kg Numeracy How much meat is consumed in the UK per year? (Amount of meat eaten X the UK population) 2. How much meat is consumed in Bangladesh per year? (Amount of meat eaten X the Bangladesh population) Country Meat per person per year USA 120 kg Australia 111.5kg UK 84.2 kg Nepal 9.9 kg India 4.4 kg Bangladesh 4 kg UK â 64 million Bangladesh â 165 million http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/maps-and-graphics/world-according-to-meat-consumption/ 7 Why do people eat meat? Discuss Tradition (their family has always done it) Culture (celebrations) Taste Convenience Nutrients such as B12, protein and iron Consumption of meat is rising across developing countries because higher incomes generally mean more meat eating. Pescetarian "Yeah, I'm a vegetarian." "But that looks like fish you're eating." "Oh yeah, I eat fish.â An estimated 5% - 6% of people in the UK are pescetarians. How many people is this? Approx. 3.6 million Calculation â 66,000,000 /100 x 5.5 = 3,630,000 9 Which group is cuter? Animals Fish 10 People often donât feel as much love for fish as they do for fluffy, cute mammals. The may think fish donât feel pain. They may be fussy. They think fish isnât meat. Not farmed as much as mammals; can be wild. To get nutrients they wouldnât get from just vegetables and grains. (Omega 3 is in plants but in higher concentrations in oily fish) Why are people pescetarians? https://www.vegsoc.org/sslpage.aspx?pid=753 http://articles.mercola.com/omega-3.aspx Fish â In a perfect world, fish can provide you all the omega-3s you need. Unfortunately, the vast majority of the fish supply is now heavily tainted with industrial toxins and pollutants, such as heavy metals which include mercury, lead, arsenic, and cadmium, PCBs, and radioactive poisons. These toxins make eating fish no longer recommended. 11 Vegetarianism Vegetarians will not eat any meat or product that comes from the slaughter of animals e.g. gelatine. About 3% of the UK population are vegetarian. How many people is this? 1.9 million 12 Why are people vegetarian? They donât like the idea that animals are killed so they can eat Health reasons Donât like meat Brought up vegetarian Environmental reasons Religious reasons (e.g. some Buddhist, Hindus) Watch the following clip twice. The second time, write down the fact which surprises you the most. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VW6wfpHFdaI The World Health Organization has classified processed meats â including ham, salami, sausages and hot dogs â as a Group 1 carcinogen (same as smoking/alcohol) which means that there is strong evidence that processed meats cause cancer. Red meat, such as beef, lamb and pork has been classified as a 'probable' cause of cancer. 13 Veganism Not just a diet Around 1% of the population of UK are vegans. A vegan is described by the Vegan Society as âa philosophy and way of living which seeks to excludeâas far as is possible and practicableâall forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose; and by extension, promotes the development and use of animal-free alternatives for the benefit of humans, animals and the environment. In dietary terms it denotes the practice of dispensing with all products derived wholly or partly from animalsâ Why are people vegan? Why are people vegan? James Aspey: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a22XxXP3nU8 Warning: some of the content in this video clip may upset some viewers from 7:14 â 8:11 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BtqXeym7H8A Why are people vegan? âDonât want bad karmaâ Feel healthier Reduce chances of diseases. Example heart disease. Donât want to exploit animals Believe in animal rights Sustainability Environment Create a Table of Pros & Cons of Veganism Pros â Cons - Create a Table of Pros & Cons of Veganism Pros Cons No animals have died for you to eat Some people think it is healthier Help the environment Fewer antibiotics/chemicals that are given to some animals Makes you feel good No vitamin B12 so have to supplement Harder to find food at shops or restaurants May be harder to get enough iron May be more expensive to get substitute meats Judged by family and friends Could put farmers out of business Group Work Source 1 Summarise it in your jotter Explain what the source is/what it says What does it suggest? What is your opinion? Feedback to rest of class https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SYyjel5VuHg Farmerâs Poem
Egypt Where Is It? Egypt is a country in North Africa. The Mediterranean Sea is to the north. The Red Sea is to the east. Other countries are to the west and south. The capital city of Egypt is Cairo. It is also one of the largest cities in Africa. More than eleven million people live there. People. More than eighty-six million people live in Egypt. Most of them speak Arabic. Many people live in farming towns along the Nile River. Some farmers in Egypt grow cotton along the Nile. The cotton is used to make clothes. Farmers also grow rice, wheat, and other foods. Land. The desert stretches across all of Egypt. The Nile River runs through the east. It is the longest river in the world. The Nile ends at the Mediterranean Sea. The land where the Nile ends is the Nile Delta. Egypt also has mountains. Tall mountains rise in the east. Low mountains rise in the west. Animals. Many animals live in Egypt. Foxes, lizards, and other animals live in the desert. People raise water buffalo, sheep. and goats. Some people use camels to travel from place to place. History. Egypt is very old. Long ago, kings called pharaohs ruled the land. People believed the pharaohs were gods.The pharaohs had huge pyramids built. These pyramids are tombs for the pharaohs. Gold treasures were placed in the tombs. Some of these treasures are in museums now. Conclusion. Egypt is an amazing country. It is also a very old country. Egypt has many important things to learn about.
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La Isla de Pascua This 64-square mile island off Chileâs west coast goes by many names. Its English name is Easter Island, marking the day in 1722 when it was discovered by a European. In Spanish, it is called Isla de Pascua. The Rapa Nui, its first inhabitants, called it âThe Navel of the World.â Experts do not agree on the history of Easter Island. It is unclear where the first people came from or when they arrived. Many people believe they came from neighboring Polynesia around AD 300. This culture built 900 enormous stone statues for which the island is famous. The statues are known as moai. Most of the moai are made of volcanic tuff. Tuff is a soft rock made from the ash that is forced out during a volcanic eruption. It is easier to carve than hard stones like marble, but it is not ideal for carving small details. The moai are considered megaliths (large stones that form prehistoric monuments). They stand up to 33 feet high when on their ceremonial platform (the average height is about 13 feet), and they weigh up to 82 tons. They usually have a trunk (body), inset arms, and an exaggerated head with angular edges. The head of each moai takes up about one-third of the total figure. It all shows that the people who created them could engineer monumental structures. Many moai stand with their backs to the sea. They watch the island like protective markers. Some low-relief carvings of religious deities were added to the backs of the moai at a later date. Experts are still trying to understand how they were carved and moved, and what they might mean.  Chile took control of the island in 1888. At that time, its population was less than 200. The government used it for grazing livestock. Today, the mystery of Easter Island makes it a popular tourist spot. ValparaĂso ValparaĂso is a colorful blend of old and new traditions in Chile. This port city is an interesting example of daily life in Chile. Before the Panama Canal was opened in 1914, all ships traveling east to west had to pass all the way around South America. ValparaĂso was ideally positioned as a stopping point in the Southern Pacific. ValparaĂso has a long history of playing host to a large array of cultures and ideas. The city was known around the world as a place that embraced learning and new ideas. Pablo Neruda had a home in ValparaĂso in the 1920s. After the Panama Canal was completed, shipping traffic declined significantly. ValparaĂso was forgotten and fell upon hard times. In the 1990s, the government of Chile made an effort to revitalize the colorful port. Today it is a UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) World Heritage site. True to its history of embracing learning, it is also home to four universities. Tourists can visit the first stock exchange in Latin America. ValparaĂso also has Chileâs first public library. Visitors stroll through cobblestone streets in the historic district. Here they can also view the cityâs iconic colorful buildings. At night, music and street performers liven the experience. Try It Yourself Two Spanish words comprise the name of this city. Val means valley. Paraiso means paradise. The name ValparaĂso means Paradise Valley. Can you recognize descriptive Spanish words in other Spanish place names? Start with names of places around you. Las Comidas Tradicionales To Chileans, nothing says home like pastel de choclo, a type of casserole made of beef and corn. The body of the casserole is flavorful. It contains beef, onions, raisins, and roasted chicken. It is topped off with a layer of creamed corn and then baked. Baking it brings out the sweetness in the corn, adding a contrast to the savory meat. The preferred type of corn is called choclo. This variety is grown in rugged conditions in the Andes. The kernels are large and hearty compared to other varieties.         Another favorite dish in Chile is a type of meat stew called cazuela. Originally a native dish, it is now known as comfort food in Chile. Pork, beef, lamb, or chicken still on the bone is boiled in a traditional clay pot. To that, corn, potatoes, and other local vegetables are added. It is seasoned with onion and garlic. Pablo Rogat/Shutterstock When Chileans think about dessert, manjar is the first ingredient on their minds. It is a caramel sauce made from cooking milk, sugar, and vanilla. It is found in many desserts. It is used as filling in cakes, pies, and cookies. It is refrigerated to make puddings and custards. People even use it to sweeten their coffee.
5.1 Personal data Personal data is any data that relates to you and your identity. This includes data such as: â˘Name â˘Address â˘Telephone number â˘Email address â˘Bank details â˘Medical records â˘Salary â˘Political opinions You should be very careful about revealing any of your personal data! By revealing personal data to another, especially online, you are exposing yourself to dangers such as identity theft, fraud, bullying and blackmail. These types of dangers can be issues that arise as a result of revealing more personal thoughts and feelings to those that can use them against you. It is a more sinister viewpoint to take, but the moment you reveal any personal data to another, you are providing them with the potential to harm you or your identity. This isn't to say you should never speak to another, especially those unknown online, just understand how to recognise a danger and how to keep your identity secure. To keep yourself safe in your daily life, you are likely to have been taught to take measures such as locking doors, not talking to strangers and not venturing into unsafe areas. However, when many people go online, they relax their safety measures, perhaps because they are in the comfort of their own home, so do not think anything negative will happen. Many people that use the internet are genuine, but knowing how to detect the few that aren't is important. There are several guidelines for you to be aware of to keep your personal data confidential: â˘Have strong passwords set on any account that holds personal data. Stronger passwords include characters, numbers and symbols and are not a recognisable word. â˘Encrypt (scramble text so that it cannot be read without a decryption key) any personal data that you store on your computer. â˘Have a firewall present, scanning incoming and outgoing data from your computer system. â˘Regularly scan your computer with preventative software, such as an anti-virus package, that is used to identify a virus on a computer and remove it. â˘Make use of any biometric devices (devices that measures a person's biological data, such as thumbprints), that are built into technology. â˘Only visit and provide data to websites that are a trusted source. â˘Do not open any email attachments from a sender you do not recognise. â˘Check the URL attached to any link requesting data to see if it is genuine. â˘Be cautious about any pictures or opinions that you post or send to people. â˘Remove data about your location that is normally attached to your photos and videos that you may post, such as geotags. â˘Do not become friends on social networking sites with people you do not know. â˘Set all the privacy controls to the most secure setting that are available on social media accounts. â˘Report and block any suspicious user. â˘Use a nickname or pseudonym when using the internet for entertainment, for example, playing games. â˘If it is possible, use a virtual private network (VPN), an encrypted connection that can be used to send data more securely across a network. The ways in which some of these guidelines can be used in more detail will be explored throughout this chapter.
Dr. King's Memorial Introduction. A memorial in Washington, D.ĐĄ., honors Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The memorial has a large sculpture of Dr. King and famous words that he said. Who was Dr. King, and why do we remember him? Dr. King was a great leader. He wanted equal rights for all people, no matter their race, or color. The South. Dr. King grew up in Georgia, a state in the South, in the 1930s. Racism was common in the South, and many laws were unfair to black people. The laws kept black people and white people separate from each other. Black children had to go to different schools from white children. Black people had to use different drinking fountains from white people. Laws said black people had to sit at the backs of city buses. The front seats were only for white people. Black people also rode in different railroad cars than white people. Black people weren't allowed to use the same restrooms as white people. Dr. King's Work. Dr. King wanted the unfair laws to change. He wanted the laws to treat people of all races equally. He talked to many people about how to change the laws. Dr. King wanted to use peaceful ways to make changes. He said there was already too much hate in the world to use violence. Dr. King and his followers marched with many people as a peaceful way to fight racism. They hoped to get the unfair laws changed. They also protested racism by peacefully refusing to follow the unfair laws. For example, they held sit-ins. They sat at counters where only white people were allowed to sit. Refusing to move, some people were arrested by the police, including Dr. King. New Laws. Dr. King and his followers worked hard for years. Finally, in 1964, the government changed the unfair laws. The new laws are much fairer. It is now against the law to treat people differently because of their race. Black children and white children can go to the same schools. Everyone can sit where they want on buses and trains, and in restaurants. The same water fountains and restrooms can be used by every race. Dr. King's Dream. Dr. King wanted all people to be free under the law. He wanted laws that were fair to everyone. HĐľ dreamed that people of every color would get along. When we visit his memorial, we remember Dr. King and his dream of fair laws and free people. We carry on the work that Dr. King began.
Learning is brain change (1) Everybody has a brain, but not many people know how the brain works. Some people believe that the brain is like the hard disk of a computer. We use it to store files-images, language (words, texts, sounds) and other data. Others compare the brain to a huge container or cupboard with lots of little drawers, shelves and boxes in it. We put information into these boxes and hope to find it again later. (2) The brain is not a computer disk, and it isn't a container. Look at the picture here. It looks a bit like weeds in a garden, doesn't it? The picture actually shows a child's neocortex - a part of the brain. You can guess what happens â more 'weeds" grow as the child gets older. Scientists call these neuronal networks. The networks grow around our neurons, or nerve cells. What makes them grow? Learning! Learning is brain change, says Professor James Zull from Case Western University in Cleveland, Ohio, USA. "Without learning, nothing changes in the brain. For every new word you learn in your English lesson, every puzzle you solve in maths, every new song you learn to sing, a neuronal network grows in your brain and the brain changes. (3) The more neuronal networks we grow, the better we can think and the better we remember. You may wonder if there is anything you can do to make the networks in your brain grow better. Professor Zull says yes, there is. He says that brain change is strongest when a) you are interested in and like what you are learning, b) you are in control of what you learn and c) you get challenging tasks that make you think hard and concentrate. Understanding a challenging task makes you feel good and develops your brain!