Featured Post

Homes for the Elderly-Free-Samples for Students-Myassignmenthelp

Question: Basic think about the Scenario Elderly Abuse. Answer: Experience As per the article by David Lewis dated 27/9/2016, Mr...

Friday, May 22, 2020

Gender, Class And Urban Space Public And Private Space

In the article, â€Å"Gender, Class and Urban Space: Public and Private Space in Contemporary Urban Landscapes† Liz Bondi, puts forth her perspectives about the possible interconnections between gender dichotomy ,urban public /private space or city/suburb dichotomies and how separable or intertwined they are with each other. She attempts to further provide evidence that ‘the ideal of separate spheres’ (Bondi, Pg.162.) continues to affect our lives .She states that gentrification and class is intertwined in this dynamic interaction between gender and space. Bondi identifies these ‘dichotomies’ as duos, be it city/suburb, public /private or male/ female. She points out to the associations between masculinity -public space - city and femininity - private space - suburbs and that these interconnections are look upon as ‘ideologies rather than reality’ (Bondi 2013). The conclusions Bondi presented are based on the empirical evidence she collec ted which seem to lack abstractness, i.e they are specific to certain location at a certain time. But the interpretations and the data collected reflect the complex character of the urban realm, gender and the interplay between the two. They exhibit characters of being separate as well as being interwoven, distinct, ‘disentangled and a dismantled’ as well as overlapping each other. Although Bondi seems to acknowledge this complexity; she overlooks its importance in her selection of the research site and sample size. Following, I present theShow MoreRelatedWhy Are Both Public and Private Interests within Cities Becoming Increasingly Supporting of Creating a Gay Space?1026 Words   |  5 PagesWhy are both public and private interests within cities becoming increasingly supportive of the creation of â€Å"gay space†? Based on the public interest, â€Å"gay space† is important to support creative and high-tech industries. San Francisco, Washington, and San Diego, are all designed as high-tech areas in United States. According to Harvard University economist Edward Glaeser’s statistical analysis, gay workers do a better job than heterosexual (?) individual (Gates Florida, 2002). Thus, creatingRead MoreThe Patriarchal Welfare State, By Carole Pateman945 Words   |  4 Pages One subject that lacked in the previous weeks’ readings is gender and its role in urban democracy. The authors gave women faint mentions. As a consequence of societal, political and financial exclusion, the status of women in municipal power dynamics is restricted and minimal. This week’s authors articulated a variety of limitations that prevent women from benefiting from power dynamics in American cities. Through class, theories of citizenship and race, they explain citizenship and its privilegesR ead MoreDolores Hayden : A Feminist Critique Of Architecture And Urban History1535 Words   |  7 Pages Dolores Hayden: Dolores Hayden is a professor of architecture and urban history, who’s 1980 essay What Would a Non-Sexist City Be Like? re-imagined the relationship between the suburb and the city. Hayden’s work formed a significant feminist critique of the modern day challenges facing women who had to balance varied responsibilities and navigate inadequately planned cities. Her vision of new urban communities beneficial to women’s activities became a response to the shortcomings of capitalistRead MoreShedding Light on Gay Culture in New York in George Chauncey’s Gay New York Gender, Urban Culture, and the Making of the Gay Male World683 Words   |  3 PagesGeorge Chauncey’s Gay New York Gender, Urban Culture, and the Making of the Gay Male World 1890-1940, goes where no other historian had gone before, and that is into the world of homosexuality before World War II. Chauncey’s 1994 critically acclaimed book was a gender history breakthrough that gave lig ht to a homosexual subculture in New York City. The author argues against the idea that homosexual men lived hidden away from the world. Chauncey’s book exposes an abundant culture throughout the UnitedRead MoreUrban Space And Urban Spaces1983 Words   |  8 PagesUrban space is a material construct determined by a denser built environment in specific geographical settings and with economic roles distinguishing it from its suburban and rural hinterland. The historiographies of pre-industrial towns and cities have been dominated by the characterisation of the city as a market place and a centre of artisanal industries. From this traditional point of view, the city is shaped by its socio-economic and political function and urban space and is implicitly consideredRead MoreThe Poster, By Judith Giesberg1574 Words   |  7 Pagesnot isolated from total wars. However, women’s â€Å"intrusion† into the long-assumed male spaces began much earlier than the birth of th at poster. Judith Giesberg’s Army at Home demonstrates that the Civil War allowed American women to traverse the social boundaries that reserved wars for males and home for females. Instead, marginalized working-class, rural, minority, or immigrant women actively defied such gender demarcation by replacing males in fields and arsenals, confronting state officials inRead MoreBetween The Various Financial Data And Eleventh Grade Students1604 Words   |  7 Pagescompared with district wealth. 2.4. STUDIES RELATED TO EDUCATIONAL ATTAINMENT AND SCHOOL TYPE: Dahar et.al (2010) The paper investigates the impact of per pupil expenditures on academic achievement of students at the secondary stage in the rural and the urban areas of Punjab. School expenditures that indicate the provision and allocation of resource inputs into schools play a vital role in the school performance. The term per pupil expenditures is the more specific indication of school expenditures. TheRead MoreAnxious Wealth : Money And Morality Among China s New Rich Essay1588 Words   |  7 PagesAssignment One: Urban ethnography book review. Anxious Wealth: Money and Morality Among China’s New Rich, by John Osburg Main argument: 507 Anxious Wealth is an ethnographic book that explores the background networking strategies of Chengdu’s powerful elite group of entrepreneurs, professionals, and government officials. Themes covered include recreational habits such as gambling, banqueting, drinking, uniting with female hostesses, and a range of other unexpectedly significant facets of relationshipsRead MoreAnalysis Of Winston Churchill s The English Architectural Association1560 Words   |  7 PagesArchitecture and design created precisely for controlling and moderating populations is something that has been happening for a while now. Architects and urban planners have recognised the natural capability of design to impact mood, character, and the physical and social properties of people. A prison is a design in which one can observe the dialogue between space and social control. The production of new technologies had disowned the biases of individuals, forming, which is later be realized by Gilles DeleuzeRead MoreMy Choice For A Space1747 Words   |  7 PagesTomkins Park, my choice for a space which encapsulates both the ideas of diversity and how that urban form and constrains a certain group was challenging to decide upon, both on the side how that space affects a particular group such as women, and how such a space may change, becoming more accepting of that group. I chose a space, which was seemingly public and has a great level of diversity of who uses this public space. I decided to partake in an observational study of Tomkins Park, located in

Thursday, May 7, 2020

Capitalism Is Poor Writing And Too One Sided Essay

Now that the premise as to what these articles convey have been established, a proper analysis surrounding Caccavello’s piece is necessary. Once again, reserving the right to reiterate what the authors mention, free of opinion, only allows for a clearer, more concise argument. Firstly, the main quandary, I feel, that presents itself in Caccavello s work is that it is simply too abstract of a narrative to use as a description for the history of the global free-market. To just construct an entire entry without once including why said scholars might be such critiques of capitalism is poor writing and too one-sided. Not once in this article does Caccavello mention that any reason other than these people s disdain for economic inequality. This is not an adequate reason being most people (if not all logical, free-thinking people) are distraught about the state at which economic inequality exists. Moreover, the title within itself is a complete slap in the face! â€Å"Inequality, Poverty, â€Å"The Free Market† and Capitalism: the story of a wonderful success. How can one willingly classify a system, by which, people who are not offered equal opportunity, a success story? Looking through a lens of complete privilege is detrimental for those who are trying to make an argument that capitalism is something that we should restore so much of our faith in. Lest we forget, the model by which we view capitalism now was built on (and is still survived by) the backs of millions ofShow MoreRelatedErnesto Che Guevara1643 Words   |  7 PagesA. Plan of Investigation Question: Was Ernesto â€Å"Che† Guevara the revolutionary hero as depicted in today’s pop culture, or was he a vicious murderer, obsessed with the destruction of capitalism? Methods: This investigation will describe Che Guevara’s involvement in Latin American independence movements, focusing specifically on his involvement with Fidel Castro’s â€Å"26th of July† movement. His actions and words will be analyzed, and his conduct this period of political upheaval will be used as evidenceRead MoreKarl Marxs Views on Religion1903 Words   |  8 PagesKarl Marx has greatly influenced the creation of the modern world and was one of the first revolutionary communist. Through his literary works and philosophies he helped to inspire many 20th century communist regimes including the Soviet Union, China, Cuba, and North Korea. Marx’s ideas did not end at communism; his religious ideology also helped shape and mold the 20th century world. Karl Marx was born in 1818 in Trier, Germany and died in 1883. He was a philosopher who turned to economicsRead MoreMark Mazower : The Struggle For Supremacy Essay2456 Words   |  10 Pagesa brutal one for the continent. A common opinion, many have about this period is that despite all of the turmoil experienced throughout this period, including two world wars, the success of democracy as a style of government was never truly in doubt. This paper will go against this widely held belief, and argue that democracy’s success in this period was not written in stone. As Mark Mazower notes in his Dark Continent text the tale of democracy in the twentieth century, was not one of, an inevitableRead MoreMark Mazower : The Struggle For Supremacy Essay2463 Words   |  10 Pagesperiod was a brutal one for the continent. A common opinion, many have is that despite all of the turmoil experienced throughout this period, including two world wars, the success of democracy as a style of government was never truly in doubt. This paper will go against this widely held belief, and argue that democracy’s success in this period was not written in stone. As Mark Mazower notes in his Dark Continent text the tale of democracy in the twentieth century, was not one of, an inevitableRead MoreChe Guevara2292 Words   |  10 PagesChe Guevara The Major Figure of the Cuban Revolution I. Introduction A. Significance of the Subject B. Purpose and plan of the paper C. Thesis Statement: Che Guevara’s actions were driven by his two-sided mind. Che was a good-minded revolutionist with evil actions. II. Che Guevara’s starting ideas and believes A. Changes in his world views B. First ideas III. The beginning of the revolution A. Che’s impact on the revolution B. Che’s part of the rebel army C. Che’sRead MoreThe Decision Of Childhood Vaccination2130 Words   |  9 Pagesthe audience to empathise with anti-vaxxers, referencing the loaded past stereotypes of poor people as â€Å"diseased† and generating the apt metaphor of modern anti-vaxxers as a â€Å"modern strain of anti-vax†. The social ostracism forced upon those who stood for what they believed in, given via reasoning through a list of the â€Å"deeper political convictions† of anti-vaxxers in regards to the â€Å"onslaught of capitalism,† has a underlying pur[pose: It’s not just an objection to vaccination, possibly providingRead MoreCleanth Brookss Essay Irony as a Principle of Structure9125 Words   |  37 PagesThe exceptions to this are the two essays Reification and the Consciousness of the Proletariat and Towards a Methodology of the Problem of Organisation which were both written specially for this collection during a period of enforced leisure. They, too, are ba sed on already existing occasional pieces. Although they have now been partly revised, no systematic attempt has been made. to remove the traces of the particular circumstances in which they were written. In some cases a radical recasting ofRead MoreProfessional Ethics : The Connection Of The Accounting Calling3554 Words   |  15 Pagestransformed into such a genuine money related emergency, to the point that will without a doubt impact the world forever are presently centering their consideration on those being capable with exchanging these instruments. Under poor corporate administration settings one of the dangers that got to be evident from the above introduced discourse is that bookkeepers may be constrained by chiefs keeping in mind the end goal to present a reflection that is agreeable for the shareholders, yet at timesRead MoreModern History.Hsc.2012 Essay25799 Words   |  104 PagesMODERN HISTORY -2012 Topic one – USA 1919-1941 Topic two – conflict in the pacific Topic three – Douglas MacArthur Topic Four – World War I TOPIC ONE – USA 1919-1941 USA 1920’S * the radio age * felt like istory had turned a corner and never going back * stock market * black Thursday November 24 1929 * the jazz age * a speakeasyyyyyyy How significant were the Republican policies in causing the great depression? The significance of the republic policiesRead Moreâ€Å"Implicit† and â€Å"Explicit† Csr: a Conceptual Framework for a Comparative Understanding of Corporate Social Responsibility13330 Words   |  54 Pagestheir input and support in developing the manuscript. We acknowledge constructive comments from Eva Boxenbaum, Thomas Dunfee, JeanPascal Gond, and Atle Midttun on earlier versions. We have presented these ideas at conferences, workshops, and seminars too numerous to mention. We would like to thank all those who contributed to the development of our argument. 1 By Europe, we refer to Scandinavia, the Benelux countries, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, France, Italy, the United Kingdom, and Ireland. Although

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

A Dirty Job Chapter 8 Free Essays

string(282) " Can you feel your feet\?† â€Å"Go ahead, kill me, you fucking coward,† said Charlie, bucking around in the chair, trying to lunge at his captor and feeling a little like the Black Knight in Monty Python’s Holy Grail after his arms and legs had been hacked off\." 8 A STREETCAR NAMED CONFUSION Into the breech of the Castro district Charlie Asher charged, an antique sword-cane from the store on the van seat beside him, his jaw set like a bayonet, his visage a study in fearsome intensity. Half a block, half a block, half of a block onward – into the Valley of Overpriced Juice Bars and Outlandish Hair Highlights – rode the righteous Beta Male. And woe be unto the foolish ne’er-do-well who had dared to fuck with this secondhand death dealer, for his raggedy life would be fast for the bargain table. We will write a custom essay sample on A Dirty Job Chapter 8 or any similar topic only for you Order Now There’s going to be a showdown in Gay Town, Charlie thought, and I am gunning for justice. Well, not really gunning – since he had a sword concealed in a walking stick, not a gun – more of a poking for justice – which didn’t really have the avenging angel connotation he was looking for – he was mad, and ready to kick ass, that’s all. So, you know, just watch out. (Coincidentally, Poking for Justice was the title currently second in popularity at Castro Video Rentals, closely edging out A Star Is Born: The Director’s Cut, and outranked only by Cops Without Pants, which was number one with a bullwhip.) Charlie turned off Market Street and just around the corner on Noe Street he saw it: Fresh Music, the sign done in blocky, Craftsman-style stained glass, and he felt the hair at the back of his neck bristle and an urgency in his bladder. His body had gone into fight-or-flight mode, and for the second time in a week, he was going against his Beta Male nature and choosing to fight. Well, so be it, he thought. So be it. He would confront his tormentor and lay him low, as soon as he found a parking place – which he didn’t. He circled the block, cutting between cafs and bars, both of which were in abundance in the Castro. He drove up and down the side streets, lined with rows of immaculately kept (exorbitantly priced) Victorians and found no quarter for his trusty steed. After a half hour of orbiting the neighborhood, he headed back uptown and found a spot in a parking garage in the Fillmore, then took the antique streetcar back down Market Street to the Castro. A cute little green, Italian-made antique streetcar, with oak benches, brass railings, and mahogany window frames – a charming brass bell and a top speed of about twenty miles per hour: this is how Charlie Asher charged into battle. He tried to imagine a horde of Huns hanging off the sides, waving wicked blades and firing arrows as they passed the murals in the Mission district, perhaps Viking raiders, shields fastened to the sides of the car, a great drum pounding as they rowed in to pillage the antique shops, the leather bars, the sushi bars, the leather sushi bars (don’t ask), and the art galleries, in the Castro. And here, even Charlie’s formidable imagination failed him. He got off the car at Castro and Market and walked back a block to Fresh Music, then paused outside the shop, wondering what in the hell he was going to do now. What if the caller had just borrowed the phone? What if he stormed in screaming and threatening, and there was just some confused kid behind the counter? But then he looked in the door, and there, standing behind the counter, all alone, was an extraordinarily tall black man dressed completely in mint green, and at that point Charlie lost his mind. â€Å"You killed her,† Charlie screamed as he stormed by the racks of CDs toward the man in mint. He drew the sword as he ran, or tried to, hoping to bring it out in a single fluid movement from the cane sheath and across the throat of Rachel’s killer. But the sword-cane had been in the back of Charlie’s shop for a long time, and except for three times when Lily’s friend Abby tried to leave with it (once trying to buy it, when Charlie refused to sell it to her, then twice trying to steal it), the sword hadn’t been drawn in years. The little brass stud that you pushed to release the blade had stuck, so when Charlie delivered the deathblow, he swung the entire cane, which was heavier – and slower – than the sword would have been. The man in mint green – quick for his size – ducked, and Charlie took out an entire row of Judy Garland CDs, lost his balance, bounced off the counter, spun around, and again tried for the single d raw-and-cut move that he had seen so many times in samurai movies, and had practiced so many times in his head on the way here. This time the sword came free of the scabbard and slashed a deadly arch three feet in front of the man in mint, completely decapitating a life-sized cutout of Barbra Streisand. â€Å"That is un-unfucking called for!† thundered the tall man. As Charlie recovered his balance for a backhand slash, he saw something large and dark coming down over him and recognized it at the last instant, as the antique cash register slammed down on his head. There was a flash, a ding, and everything got dark and gooey. When Charlie came to, he was tied to a chair in the back room of the record store, which looked remarkably like the back room of his own store, except all the stacked boxes were full of records and CDs instead of all variety of used jetsam. The tall black man was standing over him, and Charlie thought at first that he might be turning to mist or smoke, but then he realized it was just that his vision was going wavy, and then pain lit up the inside of his head like a strobe light. â€Å"Ouch.† â€Å"How’s your neck?† asked the tall man. â€Å"Does your neck feel broken? Can you feel your feet?† â€Å"Go ahead, kill me, you fucking coward,† said Charlie, bucking around in the chair, trying to lunge at his captor and feeling a little like the Black Knight in Monty Python’s Holy Grail after his arms and legs had been hacked off. If this guy took one step closer, Charlie could head-butt him in the nads, he was sure of it. The tall man stomped on Charlie’s toes, a size-eighteen glove-leather loafer driven by two hundred and seventy pounds of death and used-record dealer. â€Å"Ouch!† Charlie hopped his chair in a little circle of pain. â€Å"Goddammit! Ouch!† â€Å"So you do have feeling in your feet?† â€Å"Get it over with. Go ahead.† Charlie stretched his neck as if offering his throat to be cut – his strategy was to lure his captor into range, then sever the tall man’s femoral artery with his teeth, then gloat as the blood coursed all over his mint-green slacks onto the floor. Charlie would laugh long and sinister as he watched the life drain out of the evil bastard, then he would hop his chair out to the street and onto the streetcar at Market, transfer to the number forty-one bus at Van Ness, hop off at Columbus, and hop the two blocks home, where someone would untie him. He had a plan – and a bus pass with four more days left on it – so this son of a bitch had picked the wrong guy to fuck with. â€Å"I have no intention of killing you, Charlie,† said the tall man, keeping a safe distance. â€Å"I’m sorry I had to hit you with the register. You didn’t really leave me any options.† â€Å"You could have tasted the fatal sting of my blade!† Charlie glanced around for his sword-cane, just in case the guy had left it within reach. â€Å"Yeah, sure, there was that one, but I thought I’d go with the one without the stains and the funeral.† Charlie strained against his bonds, which he realized now were plastic shopping bags. â€Å"You’re messing with Death, you know? I am Death.† â€Å"Yeah, I know.† â€Å"You do?† â€Å"Sure.† The tall man spun another wooden chair around and sat on it reversed, facing Charlie. His knees were up at the level of his elbows and he looked like a great green tree frog, crouched to pounce on an insect. Charlie noticed for the first time that he had golden eyes, stark and striking in contrast to his dark skin. â€Å"So am I,† said the evil mint-green frog guy. â€Å"You? You’re Death?† â€Å"A Death, not THE Death. I don’t think there is a THE Death. Not anymore, anyway.† Charlie couldn’t grasp it, so he struggled and wobbled until the tall man had to reach out and steady him to keep him from toppling over. â€Å"You killed Rachel.† â€Å"I did not.† â€Å"I saw you there.† â€Å"Yes, you did. That’s a problem. Will you please stop thrashing around?† He shook Charlie’s chair. â€Å"But I wasn’t instrumental in Rachel’s death. That’s not what we do, not anymore, anyway. Didn’t you even look at the book?† â€Å"What book? You said something about a book on the phone.† â€Å"The Great Big Book of Death. I sent it to your shop. I told a woman at the counter that I was sending it, and I got delivery confirmation, so I know it got there.† â€Å"What woman – Lily? She’s not a woman, she’s a kid.† â€Å"No, this was a woman about your age, with New Wave hair.† â€Å"Jane? No. She didn’t say anything, and I didn’t get any book.† â€Å"Oh, shit. That explains why they’ve been showing up. You didn’t even know.† â€Å"Who? What? They?† Mint Green Death sighed heavily. â€Å"I guess we’re going to be here awhile. I’m going to make some coffee. Do you want some?† â€Å"Sure, try to lull me into a false sense of security, then spring.† â€Å"You’re tied the fuck up, motherfucker, I don’t need to lull you into shit. You’ve been fucking with the fabric of human existence and someone needed to shut your ass down.† â€Å"Oh, sure, go black on me. Play the ethnic card.† Mint Green climbed to his feet and headed toward the door to the shop. â€Å"You want cream?† â€Å"And two sugars, please,† Charlie said. This is really cool, why are you giving it back?† said Abby Normal. Abby was Lily’s best friend, and they were sitting on the floor in the back room of Asher’s Secondhand, looking through The Great Big Book of Death. Abby’s real name was Alison, but she would no longer tolerate the ignominy of what she called her â€Å"daylight-slave name.† Everyone had been much more responsive to calling her by her chosen name than they had been to Lily’s, Darquewillow Elventhing, which you always had to spell for people. â€Å"Turns out it’s Asher, not me,† Lily said. â€Å"He’ll be really pissed if he finds out I took it. And he’s Death now, I guess, so I could get in trouble.† â€Å"Are you going to tell him you had the book?† Abby scratched the silver spider stud in her eyebrow; it was a fresh piercing and still healing and she couldn’t stop messing with it. Abby, like Lily, was dressed all in black, boots to hair, the difference being that she had a black-widow’s red hourglass on the front of her black T-shirt and she was thinner and more waiflike in her affected creepiness. â€Å"No. I’ll just say it got misfiled. That happens a lot here.† â€Å"How long did you think it was you?† â€Å"Like a month.† â€Å"What about the dreams and the names and stuff it talks about, you didn’t have any of that, right?† â€Å"I thought I was just growing into my powers. I made a lot of lists of people I wanted gone.† â€Å"Yeah, I do that. And you just found out yesterday that it was Asher?† â€Å"Yeah,† said Lily. â€Å"That sucks,† said Abby. â€Å"Life sucks,† said Lily. â€Å"So, what now?† asked Abby. â€Å"Junior college?† They both nodded, woefully, and looked into the depths of their respective nail polishes to avoid sharing the humiliation of one of them having gone from dark demigod to local loser in an instant. They lived their lives hoping for something grand and dark and supernatural to happen, so when it had, they took it more in stride than was probably healthy. Fear, after all, is a survival mechanism. â€Å"So all these things are soul objects?† asked Abby, as cheerfully as her integrity would allow. She waved to the piles of stuff Charlie had marked with â€Å"Do Not Sell† signs. â€Å"There’s like a person’s soul in there?† â€Å"According to the book,† said Lily. â€Å"Asher says he can see them glow.† â€Å"I like the red Converse All Stars.† â€Å"Take them, they’re yours,† said Lily. â€Å"Really?† â€Å"Yeah,† Lily said. She took the All Stars off the shelf and held them out. â€Å"He’ll never miss them.† â€Å"Cool. I have the perfect pair of red fishnets I can wear with them.† â€Å"They probably have the soul of some sweaty jock in them,† Lily said. â€Å"He may worship at my feet,† said Abby, doing a pirouette and an arabesque (remnants, along with an eating disorder, of ten years of ballet lessons). So I’m like a Santa’s Helper of Death?!† Charlie said, waving his coffee cup. The tall man had untied his one arm so he could drink his coffee, and Charlie was baptizing the stockroom floor with French roast with every gesture. Mr. Fresh frowned. â€Å"What in the hell are you talking about, Asher?† Fresh felt bad about hitting Charlie Asher with a cash register and tying him up, and now he was wondering if the blow hadn’t caused some sort of brain damage. â€Å"I’m talking about the Santa at Macy’s, Fresh. When you’re a kid, and you notice that the Santa Claus at Macy’s has a fake beard, and that there are at least six Salvation Army Santas working Union Square, you ask your parents about it and they tell you that the real Santa is in the North Pole, and he’s really busy, so all these other guys are Santa’s helpers, who are out helping him with his work. That’s what you’re saying, that we’re Santa’s helpers to Death?† Mr. Fresh had been standing by his desk, but now he sat down again across from Charlie so he could look him in the eye. Very softly he said, â€Å"Charlie, you know that that’s not true now, right? I mean about Santa’s helpers and all?† â€Å"Of course I know that there’s no Santa Claus. I’m using it as a metaphor, you tool.† Mr. Fresh took this opportunity to reach out and smack Charlie upside the head. Then immediately regretted it. â€Å"Hey!† Charlie put down his cup and rubbed one of his receding-hairline inlets, which was going red from the blow. â€Å"Rude,† said Mr. Fresh. â€Å"Let’s not be rude.† â€Å"So you’re saying that there is a Santa?† Charlie said, cringing in anticipation of another smack. â€Å"Oh my God, how deep does this conspiracy go?† â€Å"No, there’s no goddamn Santa. I’m just saying that I don’t know what we are. I don’t know if there is a big Death with a capital D, although the book hints that there used to be. I’m just saying that there are many of us, a dozen that I know of right here in the city – all of us picking up soul vessels and seeing that they get into the right hands.† â€Å"And that’s based on someone randomly coming into your shop and buying a record?† Then Charlie’s eyes went wide as it hit him. â€Å"Rachel’s Sarah McLachlan CD. You took it?† â€Å"Yes.† Fresh looked at the floor, not because he was ashamed, but to avoid seeing the pain in Charlie Asher’s eyes. â€Å"Where is it? I want to see it,† said Charlie. â€Å"I sold it.† â€Å"To who? Find it. I want Rachel back.† â€Å"I don’t know. To a woman. I didn’t get her name, but I’m sure it was meant for her. You’ll be able to tell.† â€Å"I will? Why will I?† he asked. â€Å"Why me? I don’t want to kill people.† â€Å"We don’t kill people, Mr. Asher. That’s a misconception. We simply facilitate the ascendance of the soul.† â€Å"Well, one guy died because I said something to him, and another had a heart attack because of something I did. A death that results from your actions is basically killing someone, unless you’re a politician, right? So why me? I’m not that highly skilled at bullshit. So why me?† Mr. Fresh considered what Charlie was saying, and felt like something sinister had crawled up his spine. In all his years, he didn’t remember ever having his actions directly result in someone’s death, nor had he heard of it happening with the other Death Merchants. Of course you occasionally showed up at the time when the person was passing, but not often, and never as a cause. â€Å"Well?† Charlie said. Mr. Fresh shrugged. â€Å"Because you saw me. Surely you’ve noticed that no one sees you when you’re out to get a soul vessel.† â€Å"I’ve never gone out to get a soul vessel.† â€Å"Yes, you have, and you will, at least you should be. You need to get with the program, Mr. Asher.† â€Å"Yeah, so you said. So you’re – uh – we’re invisible when we’re out getting these soul vessels?† â€Å"Not invisible, so to speak, it’s just that no one sees us. You can go right into people’s homes and they’ll never notice you standing right beside them, but if you speak to someone on the street they’ll see you, waitresses will take your order, cabs will stop for you – well, not me, I’m black, but, you know, they would. It’s sort of a will thing, I think. I’ve tested it. Animals can see us, by the way. You’ll want to watch out for dogs when you’re retrieving a vessel.† â€Å"So that’s how you got to be a – what do they call us?† â€Å"Death Merchants.† â€Å"Get out. Really?† â€Å"It’s not in the book. I came up with it.† â€Å"It’s very cool.† â€Å"Thanks.† Mr. Fresh smiled, relieved for a moment not to be thinking about the gravity of Charlie’s unique transition to Death Merchant. â€Å"Actually, I think it’s a character from an album cover, guy behind a cash register, eyes glowing red, but I didn’t know that when I came up with it.† â€Å"Well, it makes perfect sense.† â€Å"Yeah, I thought so,† said Mr. Fresh. â€Å"More coffee?† â€Å"Please.† Charlie held out his empty cup. â€Å"So, someone saw you. That’s how you became a Death Merchant?† â€Å"No, that’s how you became one. I think that you may, uh – † Fresh didn’t want to mislead this poor guy, but on the other hand he didn’t actually know what had happened. â€Å"I think you may be different from the rest of us. No one saw me. I was working security for a casino in Vegas when that went sour for me – I have a problem with authority, I’m told – so I came to San Francisco and opened this shop, started dealing in used records and CDs, mostly jazz at first. After a while it just started happening: the glowing soul vessels, people coming in with them, finding them at estate sales. I don’t know why or how, it just did, and I didn’t say anything about it to anyone. Then the book came in the mail.† â€Å"The book again. Don’t you have a copy around?† â€Å"There’s only one copy. At least that I know of.† â€Å"And you just mailed it out?† â€Å"I sent it certified mail!† Fresh boomed. â€Å"Someone at your store signed for it. I think I did my part.† â€Å"Okay, sorry, go on.† â€Å"Anyway, when I got to the Castro it was a very sad place. The only guys you saw on the street were very old or very young, all the ones in the middle were either dead or sick with HIV, walking with canes, towing oxygen cylinders. Death was everywhere. It’s like there needed to be a soul way station, and I was here, trading records. Then the book showed up in the mail. There were a lot of souls coming in. For those first few years I was picking up vessels every day, sometimes two or three times a day. You’d be surprised how many gay men have their souls in their music.† â€Å"Have you sold them all?† â€Å"No. They come in, they go out. There’s always some inventory.† â€Å"But how can you be sure the right person gets the right soul?† â€Å"Not my problem, is it?† Mr. Fresh shrugged. He’d worried about it at first, but it seemed to all happen as it should, and he’d gotten into the rhythm of trusting whatever mechanism or power was behind all of this. â€Å"Well, if that’s your attitude, why do it at all? I don’t want this job. I have a job, and a kid.† â€Å"You have to do it. Believe me, after I got the book, I tried not doing it. We all did. At least the ones I’ve talked to did. I’m guessing you’ve already seen what happens if you don’t. You’ll start hearing the voices, then the shades start coming. The book calls them Underworlders.† â€Å"The giant ravens? Them?† â€Å"They were just indistinct shadows and voices until you showed up. There’s something going on. Starting with you, and continuing with you. You let them get a soul vessel, didn’t you?† â€Å"Me? You said there’s a bunch of Death Merchants.† â€Å"The others know better. It was you. You fucked up. I thought I saw one flying over earlier in the week. Then today, I was out walking, and the voices were bad. Really bad. That’s when I called you. It was you, wasn’t it?† Charlie nodded. â€Å"I didn’t know. How could I know?† â€Å"So they got one?† â€Å"Two,† Charlie said. â€Å"A hand came out of the sewer. It was my first day.† â€Å"Well, that’s it,† said Fresh, cradling his head in his hands. â€Å"We are most certainly fucked now.† â€Å"You don’t know that,† Charlie said, trying to look on the bright side. â€Å"We could have been fucked before. I mean, we run secondhand stores for dead people, that’s sort of a definition of fucked.† Mr. Fresh looked up. â€Å"The book says if we don’t do our jobs everything could go dark, become like the Underworld. I don’t know what the Underworld is like, Mr. Asher, but I’ve caught some of the road show from there a couple of times, and I’m not interested in finding out. How ’bout you?† â€Å"Maybe it’s Oakland,† Charlie said. â€Å"What’s Oakland?† â€Å"The Underworld.† â€Å"Oakland is not the Underworld!† Mr. Fresh leapt to his feet; he was not a violent man, you really didn’t have to be when you were his size, but – â€Å"The Tenderloin?† Charlie suggested. â€Å"Don’t make me smack you. Neither of us wants that, do we, Mr. Asher?† Charlie shook his head. â€Å"I’ve seen the ravens,† Charlie said, â€Å"but I haven’t heard any voices. What voices?† â€Å"They talk to you when you’re on the street. Sometimes you’ll hear a voice coming out of a heating vent, a downspout, sometimes a storm drain. It’s them, all right. Female voices, taunting. I’ve gone years without hearing them, I’ll almost forget, then I’ll be going to pick up a vessel, and one will call to me. I used to phone the other merchants, ask them if they’d done something, but we stopped that right away.† â€Å"Why?† â€Å"Because that’s part of what we think brings them up. We’re not supposed to have any contact. It took us a while to figure that out. I had only found six of the merchants in the city back then, and we were having lunch once a week, talking about what we knew, comparing notes – that’s when we saw the first of the shades. In fact, just to be safe, this will be the last time that you and I have contact.† Mr. Fresh shrugged again and began to untie Charlie’s bonds, thinking: It all changed that day at the hospital. This guy has changed everything, and I’m sending him out like a lamb to the slaughter – or maybe he’s the one to do the slaughtering. This guy might be the one – â€Å"Wait, I don’t know anything,† Charlie pleaded. â€Å"You can’t just send me out to do this without more background. What about my daughter? How do I know who to sell the souls to?† He was panicked and trying to ask all the questions before he was set free. â€Å"What are the numbers after the names? Do you get the names like that? How long do I have to do this before I can retire. Why are you always dressed in mint green?† As Mr. Fresh untied one ankle, Charlie was trying to tie the other back to the chair. â€Å"My name,† said Mr. Fresh. â€Å"Pardon?† Charlie stopped tying himself up. â€Å"I dress in mint green because of my first name. It’s Minty.† Charlie completely forgot what he was worried about. â€Å"Minty? Your name is Minty Fresh?† Charlie appeared to be trying to stifle a sneeze, but then snorted an explosive laugh. Then ducked. How to cite A Dirty Job Chapter 8, Essay examples