Loading...
SME_ISO14001
Quiz by smileibo
Customize this quiz to suit your class
Instantly translate to 100+ languages
Tag the questions with any skills you have. Your dashboard will track each student's mastery of each skill.
Give this quiz to my class
âQuel est l'objectif principal d'un SME ?
Augmenter le profit
Former le personnel
Protéger l'environnement
Satisfaire les clients
âLa norme ISO 14001 est basĂ©e sur quel cycle ?
PDCA
SWOT
SMART
AMDEC
Quel est l'objectif principal d'un SME ?
La norme ISO 14001 est basée sur quel cycle ?
Qui est responsable de la politique environnementale ?
Que signifie "aspect environnemental" ?
Parmi ces éléments, lequel est obligatoire dans un SME ?
La veille réglementaire concerne :
L'amélioration continue dans un SME signifie :
Une non-conformité environnementale est :
La communication environnementale doit ĂȘtre :
Un indicateur environnemental peut ĂȘtre :
SME Live SessionSME Staff Meeting 4/23REFRESHER(SME POSITION)SD-WAN SME QuizLol itâs mewho known's me the mostUnit 6 test. That`s meName: Marco Ramirez - âI Am Not Batmanâ TW: language Itâs the middle of the night. And the sky is glowing like mad radioactive red. And if you squint, you could maybe see the moon through a thick layer of cigarette smoke and airplane exhaust that covers the entire city like mosquito net that wonât let the angels in. And if you look up high enough you could see me-standing on the edge of a eighty seven story building. And up there-a place for gargoyles and broken clock towers that have stayed still and dead for maybe like a hundred years-up there is me. And Iâm freakin Batman. And I gots Bat-mobiles and Bat-a-rangs and freakin Bat-caves like for real, and all it takes is a broom closet or a back room or a fire escape and Dannyâs hand-me-down jeans are gone. And my navy blue polo shirt? â The one that looks kinda good on me but has a hole on it near the butt from when it got snagged on the chain linked fence behind Arturoâs but it isnât even a big deal cause I tuck that part in and its like all good? âthat blue polo shirt? â Itâs gone too. And I get like, like transformational. And nobody pulls out a belt and whips Batman for talking back â-Or for not talking back âAnd nobody calls Batman simple â- Or stupid â- Or skinny â- And nobody fires Batmanâs brother from the Eastern Taxi Company âcause they was making cutbacks, neither, âcause they got nothing but respect, and not like afraid-respect. Just like respect-respect. âCause nobodyâs afraid of you. Cause Batman doesnât mean nobody harm. Ever. Cause all Batman really wants to do is save people and maybe pay Abuelaâs bills one day and die happy and maybe get like mad famous. For real.âŠAnd kill the Joker. Tonight, like most nights, Iâm all alone. And Iâm watchingâŠAnd Iâm waiting⊠Like a eagle. Or like a âno, yea, like a eagle. And my cape is flappinâ in the wind (âcause itâs freakinâ long), and my pointy ears are on, and that mask that covers like half my face is on too, and I got like bulletproof stuff all in my chest so no one could hurt me and nobody â nobody â is gonna come between Batman, And Justice. From where I am I could hear everything. Somewhere in the city thereâs a old lady picking Styrofoam leftovers up outta a trash can and sheâs putting a piece of sesame chicken someone spit out into her own mouth. And somewhere thereâs a doctor with a whack haircut in a black lab coat trying to find a cure for the diseases that are gonna make us all extinct for real one day. And somewhere thereâs a man, a man in a janitorâs uniform, stumbling home drunk and dizzy after spending half his paycheck on forty-ounce bottles of twist-off beer and the other half on a four hour visit to some ladyâs house on a street where the lights have all been shot out by people whoâd rather do what they do, in this city, in the dark. And half a block away from JanitorMan thereâs a group of good-for-nothings who donât know no better waiting to beat JanitorMan with rusted bicycle chains and imitation Lousiville Sluggers, and if they donât find a cent on him â which they wonât â theyâll just pound at him till the muscles in their arms start burning, till thereâs no more teeth to crack out. But they donât count on me. They donât count on no dark night (with a stomach full of grocery store brand macaroni-and-cheese and cut up Vienna sausages), Cause theyâd rather believe I donât exist, And from eighty-seven stories up I could hear one of the good-for-nothings say âGimmethecashâ real fast (like that) just âGimmethefuckingcashâ and I see JAnitorMan mumble something in drunk language and turn pale and from eighty-seven stories up I could hear his stomach trying to hurl its way out of his Dickies. So I swoop down like and fast and Iâm like darkness. Iâm like SWOOSH â- And I throw a Bat-a-rang at the one naked lightbulb â- And theyâre all like âwhoa-motherfucker-who-just-turned-out-the-lights?â ââWhatâs that over there?â â-âWhat?â â- âGimme whatchou got old manâ â- âDid anybody hear that?!â â- âNo, reallyâ â- âThere ainât. No. Bat.â â But then â- One out of three good-for-nothings gets it to the head! And number Two swings blindly into the dark cape before him but before his fist hits anything I grab a trash can lid and â-- Right into the gut, and number One comes back with a jump-kick but I know judo-karate too so Iâm like â-- Twice â-- but before I can do any more damage suddenly we all hear a CLIC â CLIC âAnd suddenly everything gets quiet And the one good-for-nothing left standing grips a handgun and aims straight up, like heâs holding Jesus hostage, like heâs threatening maybe to blow a hole in the moon. And the good-for-nothing who got it to the head who tried to jump-kick me and the other good-for-nothing who got it in the gut is both scrambling back away from the dark figure before him. And the drunk man the JanitorMan is huddled in a corner, praying to Saint Anthony âcause thatâs the only one he could remember. And thereâs me, Eyes glowing white, cape blowing softly in the wind. Bulletporoof chest heaving. My heart beating right through it in a Morse code for âfuck with me, just once, come on, just try.â And the one good-for-nothing left standing, the one with the handgun, he laughs he lowers his arm, and he points it at me and gives the moon a break, and he aims it right between my pointy ears, like goalposts and heâs special teams. And JanitorMan is still calling Saint Anthony but he ainât pickinâ up, And for a second it seems likeâŠmaybe Iâm gonna lose. Naw. SHOO â SHOO! FUACATA! --âDonât kill me man!â ââSNAP! â Wrist CRACK â Neck â SLASH! â Skin â meets â acid â âAHH!!â âAnd heâs on the floor. And Iâm standing over him. And I got the gun in MY hands now. And I hate guns, I hate holding âem cause Iâm Batman, and âBatman donât like guns âcause his parents got iced by guns a long time ago â but for just a second, my eyes glow white, and I hold this thing, for I could speak to the good-for-nothing in a language he maybe understandsâŠCLIC â CLICâŠAnd the good-for-nothings become good-for-disappearing into whatever toxic-waste-chemical-sludge-shit-hole they crawled out of. And itâs just me and JanitorMan. And I pick him up. And I wipe sweat and cheap perfume off his forehead. And he begs me not to hurt him and I grab him tight by his JanitorMan shirt collar and I pull him to my face, and heâs taller than me, but the cape helps so he listens when I look him straight in the eyes and I say two words to him: âGo home.â And he does, checking behind his shoulder every ten feet. And I SWOOSH from building to building on his way there, âcause I know where he lives. And I watch his hands where he lives. And I watch his hands tremble as he pulls out his keychain and opens the door to his building. And Iâm back in bed before he even walks in through the front door. And I hear him turn on the faucet and pour himself a glass of warm tap water And he puts the glass back in the sink. And I hear his footsteps, And they get slower as they get to my room. And he creaks my door open like mad slow. And he takes a step in, which he never does. And heâs staring off into nowhere, his face the color of sidewalks in summer, and I act like Iâm just waking up, and I say, âWhatâs up, Pop?â And JanitorMan says nothing to me. But I see, in the dark, I see his arms go limp and his head turns back, like towards me, and he lifts it for I could see his face, For I could see his eyes, And his cheeks is dripping but not with sweat. And he just stands there, breathing, like he remembers my eyes glowing white. Like he remembers my bulletproof chest. Like he remembers heâs my pop. And for a long time I donât say nothing. And he turns around, hand on the doorknob, and he ainât looking up my way but I hear him mumble two words to me. âIâm sorry.â And I lean over and open my window just a crack.⊠If you look up high enough you could see me. And from where I am? I could hear everything.