I tend to accept any idea put forward by experts on TV. One day, a sociologist proposed that the1society has been consuming modern humans little by little. For fear that I would become a victim of the consumer society, I2hurried to a bicycle shop in my neighborhood.3the shopkeeper Mr. Johnson was selling me the bicycle, he said, “This is the best thing you4have done. Life has become hopelessly5 A bicycle is simple, and it brings to you6things: fresh air, sunshine and exercise.” I agreed. Happy as a child, I got on the bicycle and headed out onto the streets. After some time, I7at the other end of the town. I was8that this simple vehicle could let me9long distances in a fairly short time. But how10did I really go?
Since I hated to be11 I went back to Mr. Johnson and asked him to12an odometer (里程表) on my bicycle. He agreed, bu13 “An odometer without a speedometer (速度计) is like a14without a knife.” I admitted he was right and in a few minutes, the two devices (装置) were15 to the handlebars of my bicycle. “What about a horn?” he then asked. “Look, this horn is no larger than a matchbox and has many16” Attracted by these functions, I bought the horn.
“You can't leave the back part17” noted Mr. Johnson. He fixed a metal box with buttons18the seat, and said, “Is there anything better than this oven when you feel19on your way? I can give you a special discount.” I was not strong enough to20the offer.
“I congratulate you once more; this is the best thing you could have done,” said Mr. Johnson in the end.
You've just come home, after living abroad for a few years. Since you've been away, has this country changed for the better—or for the worse?
If you've just arrived back in the UK after a fortnight's holiday, small changes have probably surprised you—anything from a local greengrocer suddenly being replaced by a mobile-phone shop to someone in your street moving house.
So how have things changed to people coming back to Britain after seven, ten or even 15 years living abroad? What changes in society can they see that the rest of us have hardly noticed—or now take for granted? To find out, we asked some people who recently returned.
Debi: When we left, Cheltenham, my home town, was a town of white, middle-class families—all very conservative (保守的). The town is now home to many eastern Europeans and lots of Australians, who come here mainly to work in hotels and tourism. There are even several shops only for foreigners.
Having been an immigrant (移民) myself, I admire people who go overseas to find a job. Maybe if I lived in an inner city where unemployment was high, I'd think differently, but I believe foreign settlers have improved this country because they're more open-minded and often work harder than the natives.
Christine: As we flew home over Britain, both of us remarked how green everything looked. But the differences between the place we'd left behind and the one we returned to were brought sharply into focus as soon as we landed.
To see policemen with guns in the airport for the first time was frightening—in Cyprus, they're very relaxed—and I got pulled over by customs officers just for taking a woolen sweater with some metal-made buttons out of my case in the arrivals hall. Everyone seemed to be on guard. Even the airport car-hire firm wanted a credit card rather than cash because they said their vehicles had been used by bank robbers.
But anyway, this is still a green, beautiful country. I just wish more people would appreciate what they've got.
When my brother and I were young, my mom would take us on Transportation Days.
It goes like this: You can't take any means of transportation more than once. We would start from home, walking two blocks to the rail station. We'd take the train into the city center, then a bus, switching to the tram, then maybe a taxi. We always considered taking a horse carriage in the historic district, but we didn't like the way the horses were treated, so we never did. At the end of the day, we took the subway to our closest station, where Mom's friend was waiting to give us a ride home—our first car ride of the day.
The good thing about Transportation Days is not only that Mom taught us how to get around. She was born to be multimodal (多方式的). She understood that depending on cars only was a failure of imagination and, above all, a failure of confidence—the product of a childhood not spent exploring subway tunnels.
Once you learn the route map and step with certainty over the gap between the train and the platform, nothing is frightening anymore. New cities are just light-rail lines to be explored. And your personal car, if you have one, becomes just one more tool in the toolbox—and often an inadequate one, limiting both your mobility and your wallet.
On Transportation Days, we might stop for lunch on Chestnut Street or buy a new book or toy, but the transportation was the point. First, it was exciting enough to watch the world speed by from the train window. As I got older, my mom helped me unlock the mysteries that would otherwise have paralyzed my first attempts to do it myself: How do I know where to get off? How do I know how much it costs? How do I know when I need tickets, and where to get them? What track, what line, which direction, where's the stop, and will I get wet when we go under the river?
I'm writing this right now on an airplane, a means we didn't try on our Transportation Days and, we now know, the dirtiest and most polluting of them all. My flight routed me through Philadelphia. My multimodal mom met me for dinner in the airport. She took a train to meet me.
It was a simple letter asking for a place to study at Scotland's oldest university which helped start a revolution in higher education. A 140-year-old letter written by a lady calling for her to be allowed to study medicine at St Andrews University has been discovered by researchers. Written by Sophia Jex-Blake in 1873, the seven-page document, which urged the university to allow women to study medicine at the institution, was released yesterday on International Women's Day.
The document was discovered buried in the university archives (档案) by part-time history student Lis Smith, who is completing her PhD at St Andrews Institute of Scottish Historical Research. She said: “We knew that Sophia Jex-Blake and her supporters, in their effort to open up university medical education for women, had written to the Senatus Academicus (校评议委员会) at St Andrews in an attempt to gain permission to attend classes there, but we didn't know documentary evidence existed. While searching the archives for information about the university's higher certificate for women, I was astonished to come across what must be the very letter Jex-Blake wrote.”
In the letter, Sophia and her supporters offered to hire teachers or build suitable buildings for a medical school and to arrange for lectures to be delivered in the subjects not already covered at St Andrews. Although her letter was not successful, it eventually led to the establishment of the Ladies Literate in Arts at St Andrews, a distance-learning degree for women. The qualification, which ran from 1877 until the 1930s, gave women access to university education in the days before they were admitted as students. It was so popular that it survived long after women were admitted as full students to St Andrews in 1892.
Ms Jex-Blake went on to help establish the London School of Medicine for Women in 1874. She was accepted by the University of Berne, where she was awarded a medical degree in January 1877. Eventually, she moved back to Edinburgh and opened her own practice.
How is it that siblings (兄弟姐妹) can turn out so differently? One answer is that in fact each sibling grows up in a different family. The firstborn is, for a while, an only child, and therefore has a completely different experience of the parents than those born later. The next child is, for a while, the youngest, until the situation is changed by a new arrival. The mother and father themselves are changing and growing up too. One sibling might live in a stable and close family in the first few years; another might be raised in a family crisis, with a disappointed mother or an angry father.
Sibling competition was identified as an important shaping force as early as in 1918. But more recently, researchers have found many ways in which brothers and sisters are a lasting force in each others' lives. Dr. Annette Henderson says firstborn children pick up vocabulary more quickly than their siblings. The reason for this might be that the later children aren't getting the same one-on-one time with parents. But that doesn't mean that the younger children have problems with language development. Later-borns don't enjoy that much talking time with parents, but instead they harvest lessons from bigger brothers and sisters, learning entire phrases and getting an understanding of social concepts such as the difference between “I” and “me”.
A Cambridge University study of 140 children found that siblings created a rich world of play that helped them grow socially. Love-hate relationships were common among the children. Even those siblings who fought the most had just as much positive communication as the other sibling pairs.
One way children seek more attention from parents is by making themselves different from their siblings, particularly if they are close in age. Researchers have found that the first two children in a family are typically more different from each other than the second and third. Girls with brothers show their differences to a maximum degree by being more feminine than girls with sisters. A 2003 research paper studied adolescents from 185 families over two years, finding that those who changed to make themselves different from their siblings were successful in increasing the amount of warmth they gained from their parents.
Brrriiinnng. The alarm clock announces the start of another busy weekday in the morning. You jump out of bed, rush into the shower, into your clothes and out the door with hardly a moment to think. A stressful journey to work gets your blood pressure climbing. Once at the office, you glance through the newspaper with depressing stories or reports of disasters. In that sort of mood, who can get down to work, particularly some creative, original problem-solving work?
The way most of us spend our mornings is exactly opposite to the conditions that promote flexible, open-minded thinking. Imaginative ideas are most likely to come to us when we're unfocused. If you are one of those energetic morning people, your most inventive time comes in the early evening when you are relaxed. Sleepy people's lack of focus leads to an increase in creative problem solving. By not giving yourself time to tune into your wandering mind, you're missing out on the surprising solutions it may offer.
The trip you take to work doesn't help, either. The stress slows down the speed with which signals travel between neurons (神经细胞), making inspirations less likely to occur. And while we all should read a lot about what's going on in the world, it would not make you feel good for sure, so put that news website or newspaper aside until after the day's work is done.
So what would our mornings look like if we wanted to start them with a full capacity for creative problem solving? We'd set the alarm a few minutes early and lie awake in bed, following our thoughts where they lead. We'd stand a little longer under the warm water of the shower, stopping thinking about tasks in favor of a few more minutes of relaxation. We'd take some deep breaths on our way to work, instead of complaining about heavy traffic. And once in the office—after we get a cup of coffee—we'd click on links not to the news of the day but to the funniest videos the web has to offer.
由于越来越多的森林被砍伐,一些动物正面临着灭绝的危险。
《教父》被普遍认为是美国有史以来最好的影片之一,是电影界的一个里程碑。
我不知道是小说中的什么东西使他突然泪如泉涌。
她不在乎外表,她在乎的是自己的工作表现。
要不是用了一张过期的列车时刻表,我们就不会误了火车。
不论我怎样努力,还是没法看清他写的字。
应观众的强烈要求,这部戏将会在这个剧院每周上演两次。
这个士兵没有请假就离开营地三天。
我们对教育、工作和社会的认识和我们上一代人的不同。
事情往往不是它们看上去的那样。