It is humorous essay. But after reading it you will surely find that the author is most serious in writing it.Is There Life on Earth?There was great excitement on the planet of Venus this week. For the first time Venusian scientists managed to land a satellite on the plant Earth, and is has been sending back signals as well as photographs ever since.The satellite was directed into an area know as Manhattan (named after the great Venusian astronomer Prof. Manhattan, who first discovered it with his telescope 20,000 light years ago).Because of excellent weather conditions and extremely strong signals, Venusian scientists were able to get valuable information as to the feasibility of a manned flying saucer landing on Earth. A press conference was held at the Venus Institute of Technology."We have come to the conclusion, based on last week's satellite landing," Prof. Zog said, "that there is no life on Earth.""How do you know this?" the science reporter of the Venus Evening Star asked."For one thing, Earth's surface in the area of Manhattan is composed of solid concrete and nothing can grow there. For another, the atmosphere is filled with carbon monoxide and other deadly gases and nobody could possibly breather this air and survive.""What does this mean as far as our flying sauce program is concerned?""We shall have to take our own oxygen with us, which means a much heavier flying saucer than we originally planned.""Are there any other hazards that you discovered in your studier?" "Take a look at this photo. You see this dark black cloud hovering over the surface of Earth? We call this the Consolidated Edison Belt. We don't know what it is made of, but it could give us a lot of trouble and we shall have to make further tests before we send a Venus Being there.""Over here you will notice what seems to be a river, but the satellite findings indicate it is polluted and the water is unfit to drink. This means we shall have to carry our own water, which will add even greater weight to the saucer.""Sir, what are all those tiny black spots on the photographs?""We're not certain. They seem to be metal particles that move along certain paths. They emit gases, make noise and keep crashing into each other. There are so many of these paths and so many metal particles that it is impossible to land a flying saucer without its being smashed by one.""What are those stalagmite projections sticking up?""They're some type of granite formations that give off light at night. Prof. Glom has named them skyscrapers since they seem to be scraping the skies.""If all you say is true, won't this set back the flying saucer program several years?""Yes, but we shall proceed as soon as the Grubstart gives us the added funds.""Prof. Zog, why are we spending billions and billions of zilches to land a flying saucer on Earth when there is no life there?"Because if we Venusians can learn to breathe in an Earth atmosphere, then we can live anywhere."A heated discussion about whether men are braver than women is settled in a rather unexpected way.The Dinner PartyI first heard this tale in India, where is told as if true -- though any naturalist would know it couldn't be. Later someone told me that the story appeared in a magazine shortly before the First World War. That magazine story, and the person who wrote it, I have never been able to track down.The country is India. A colonial official and his wife are giving a large dinner party. They are seated with their guests -- officers and their wives, and a visiting American naturalist -- in their spacious dining room, which has a bare marble floor, open rafters and wide glass doors opening onto a veranda.A spirited discussion springs up between a young girl who says that women have outgrown the jumping-on-a-chair-at-the-sight-of-a-mouse era and a major who says that they haven't."A woman's reaction in any crisis," the major says, "is to scream. And while a man may feel like it, he has that ounce more of control than a woman has. And that last ounce is what really counts."The American does not join in the argument but watches the other guests. As he looks, he sees a strange expression come over the face of the hostess. She is staring straight ahead, her muscles contracting slightly. She motions to the native boy standing behind her chair and whispers something to him. The boy's eyes widen: he quickly leaves the room.Of the guests, none except the American notices this or sees the boy place a bowl of milk on the veranda just outside the open doors.The American comes to with a start. In India, milk in a bowl means only one thing -- bait for a snake. He realizes there must be a cobra in the room. He looks up at the rafters -- the likeliest place -- but they are bare. Three corners of the room are empty, and in the fourth the servants are waiting to serve the next course. There is only one place left -- under the table.His first impulse is to jump back and warn the others, but he knows the commotion would frighten the cobra into striking. He speaks quickly, the tone of his voice so commanding that it silences everyone."I want to know just what control everyone at this table has. I will count three hundred -- that's five minutes -- and not one of you is to move a muscle. Those who move will forfeit 50 rupees. Ready?"The 20 people sit like stone images while he counts. He is saying "...two hundred and eighty..." when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the cobra emerge and make for the bowl of milk. Screams ring out as he jumps to slam the veranda doors safely shut."You were right, Major!" the host exclaims. "A man has just shown us an example of perfect self-control.""Just a minute," the American says, turning to his hostess. "Mrs. Wynnes, how did you know that cobra was in the room?"A faint smile lights up the woman's face as she replies: "Because it was crawling across my foot."Jefferson died long ago, but may of his ideas still of great interest to us. Lessons from JeffersonThomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States, may be less famous than George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, but most people remember at last one fact about him: he wrote the Declaration of Independence.Although Jefferson lived more than 200 years ago, there is much that we learn from him today. Many of his ideas are especially interesting to modern youth. Here are some of the things he said and wrote:Go and see. Jefferson believed that a free man obtains knowledge from many sources besides books and that personal investigation is important. When still a young man, he was appointed to a committee to find out whether the South Branch of the James River was deep enough to be used by large boats. While the other members of the committee sat in the state capitol and studied papers on the subject, Jefferson got into a canoe and made on-the-spot-observations.You can learn from everyone. By birth and by education Jefferson belonged to the highest social class. Yet, in a day when few noble persons ever spoke to those of humble origins except to give an order, Jefferson went out of his way to talk with gardeners, servants, and waiters. Jefferson once said to the French nobleman, Lafayette, "You must go into the people's homes as I have done, look into their cooking pots and eat their bread. If you will only do this, you may find out why people are dissatisfied and understand the revolution that is threatening France."Judge for yourself. Jefferson refused to accept other people's opinions without careful thought. "Neither believe nor reject anything," he wrote to his nephew,"because any other person has rejected or believed it. Heaved has given you a mind for judging truth and error. Use it."Jefferson felt that the people "may safely be trusted to hear everything true and false, and to form a correct judgment. Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter."Do what you believe is right. In a free country there will always be conflicting ideas, and this is a source of strength. It is conflict and not unquestioning agreement that keeps freedom alive. Though Jefferson was for many years the object of strong criticism, he never answered his critics. He expressed his philosophy in letters to a friend, "There are two sides to every question. If you take one side with decision and on it with effect, those who take the other side will of course resent your actions."Trust the future; trust the young. Jefferson felt that the present should never be chained to customs which have lost their usefulness. "No society," he said, "can make a perpetual constitution, or even a perpetual law. The earth belongs to the living generation." He did not fear new ideas, nor did he fear the future. "How much pain," he remarked, "has been caused by evils which have never happened! I expect the best, not the worst. I steer my ship with hope, leaving fear behind."Jefferson's courage and idealism were based on knowledge. He probably knew more than any other man of his age. He was an expert in agriculture, archeology, and medicine. He practiced crop rotation and soil conservation a century before these became standard practice, and he invented a plow superior to any other in existence. He influenced architecture throughout America, and he was constantly producing devices for making the tasks of ordinary life easier to perform.Of all Jefferson's many talents, one is central. He was above all a good and tireless writer. His complete works, now being published for the first time, will fill more than fifty volumes. His talent as an author was soon discovered, and when the time came to write the Declaration of Independence at Philadelphia in 1776, the task of writing it was his. Millions have thrilled to his words: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal…"When Jefferson died on July 4, 1826, the 50th anniversary of American independence, he left his countrymen a rich legacy of ideas and examples. American education owes a great debt to Thomas Jefferson, Who believed that only a nation of educated people could remain free.Trying to make some money before entering university, the author applies for a teaching job. But the interview goes from bad to worse...My First JobWhile I was waiting to enter university, I saw advertised in a local newspaper a teaching post at a school in a suburb of London about ten miles from where Ilived. Being very short money and wanting to do something useful, I applied, fearing as I did so, that without a degree and with no experience in teaching my chances of getting the job were slim.However, three days later a letter arrived, asking me to go to Croydon for an interview. It proved an awkward journey: a train to Croydon station; a ten-minute bus ride and then a walk of at least a quarter to feel nervous.The school was a red brick house with big windows, The front garden was a gravel square; four evergreen shrubs stood at each corner, where they struggled to survive the dust and fumes from a busy main from a busy main road.It was clearly the headmaster himself that opened the door. He was short and fat. He had a sandy-coloured moustache, a wrinkled forehead and hardly any hair.He looked at me with an air of surprised disapproval, as a colonel might look at a private whose bootlaces were undone. 'Ah yes,' he grunted. 'You'd better come inside.' The narrow, sunless hall smelled unpleasantly of stale cabbage; the walls were dirty with ink marks; it was all silent. His study, judging by the crumbs on the carpet, was also his dining-room. 'You'd better sit down,' he said, and proceeded to ask me a number of questions: what subjects I had taken in my General School Certificate; how old I was; what games I played; then fixing me suddenly with his bloodshot eyes, he asked me whether I thought games were a vital part of a boy's education. I mumbled something about not attaching too much importance to them. He grunted. I had said the wrong thing. The headmaster and I obviously had very little in common.The school, he said, consisted of one class of twenty-four boys, ranging in age from seven to thirteen. I should have to teach all subjects except art, which he taught himself. Football and cricket were played in the Park, a mile away on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons.The teaching set-up filled me with fear. I should have to divide the class into three groups and teach them in turn at three different levels; and I was dismayed at the thought of teaching algebra and geometry-two subjects at which I had been completely incompetent at school. Worse perhaps was the idea of Saturday afternoon cricket; most of my friends would be enjoying leisure at that time.I said shyly, 'What would my salary be?' 'Twelve pounds a week plus lunch.' Before I could protest, he got to his feet. 'Now', he said, 'you'd better meet my wife. She's the one who really runs this school.'This was the last straw. I was very young: the prospect of working under a woman constituted the ultimate indignity.Seen through the eyes of a young friend Einstein was a simple, modest and ordinary man.The professor and the Yo-yoMy father was a close friend of Albert Einstein. As a shy young visitor to Einstein's home, I was made to feel at ease when Einstein said, "I have something to show you." He went to his desk and returned with a Yo-Yo. He tried to show me how it worked but he couldn't make it roll back up the string. When my turn came, I displayed my few tricks and pointed out to him that the incorrectly looped string had thrown the toy off balance. Einstein nodded, properly impressed by my skill and knowledge. Later, I bought a new Yo-Yo and mailed it to the Professor as a Christmas present, and received a poem of thanks.As boy and then as an adult, I never lost my wonder at the personality that was Einstein. He was the only person I knew who had come to terms with himself and the world around him. He knew what he wanted and he wanted only this: to understand within his limits as a human being the nature of the universe and the logic and simplicity in its functioning. He knew there were answers beyond his intellectual reach. But this did not frustrate him. He was content to go as far as he could.In the 23 years of our friendship, I never saw him show jealousy, vanity, bitterness, anger, resentment, or personal ambition. He seemed immune to these emotions. He was beyond any pretension. Although he corresponded with many of the world's most important people, his stationery carried only a watermark - W - for Woolworth's.To do his work he needed only a pencil only a pencil and a pad of paper. Material things meant nothing to him. I never knew him to carry money because he never had any use for it. He believed in simplicity, so much so that he used only a safety razor and water to shave. When I suggested that he try shaving cream, he said, "The razor and water do the job.""But Professor, why don't you try the cream just once?" I argued. "It makes shaving smoother and less painful."He shrugged. Finally, I presented him with a tube of shaving cream. The next morning when he came down to breakfast, he was beaming with the pleasure of a new, great discovery. "You know, that cream really works," he announced. "It doesn't pull the beard. It feels wonderful." Thereafter, he used the shaving cream every morning until the tube was empty. Then he reverted to using plain water.Einstein was purely and exclusively a theorist. He didn't have the slightest interest in the practical application of his ideas and theories. His E=mc2 is probably the most famous equation in history - yet Einstein wouldn't walk down the street to see a reactor create atomic energy. He won the Nobel Prize for his Photoelectric Theory, a series of equations that he considered relatively minor in importance, but he didn't have any curiosity in observing how his theory made TV possible.My brother once gave the Professor a toy, a bird that balanced on the edge of a bowl of water and repeatedly dunked its head in the water. Einstein watched itin delight, trying to deduce the operating principle. But be couldn't.The next morning he announced, "I had thought about that bird for a long time before I went to bed and it mu st work this way…" He began a ling explanation. Then he stopped, realizing a flaw in his reasoning. "No, I guess that's not it," he said. He pursued various theories for several days until I suggested we take the toy apart to see how it did work. His quick expression of disapproval told me he did not agree with this practical approach. He never did work out the solution.Another puzzle that Einstein could never understand was his own fame. He had developed theories that were profound and capable of exciting relatively few scientists. Yet his name was a household word across the civilized world. "I've had good ideas, and so have other men," he once said. "But it's been my good fortune that my ideas have been accepted." He was bewildered by his fame: people wanted to meet him; strangers stared at him on the street; scientists, statesmen, students, and housewives wrote him letters. He never could understand why he received this attention, why he was singled out as something special.A famous surgeon tells about the importance of self-confidence from his own experience.The Making of a SurgeonHow does a doctor recognize the point in time when he is finally a "surgeon"? As my year as chief resident drew to a close I asked myself this question on more than one occasion.The answer, I concluded, was self-confidence. When you can say to yourself, "There is no surgical patient I cannot treat competently, treat just as well as or better than any other surgeon" - then, and not until then, you are indeed a surgeon. I was nearing that point.T ake, for example, the emergency situations that we encountered almost every night. The first few months of the year I had dreaded the ringing of the telephone. I knew it meant another critical decision to be made. Often, after I had told Walt or Larry what to do in a particular situation, I'd have trouble getting back to sleep. I'd review all the facts of the case and, not infrequently, wonder if I hadn't made a poor decision. More than once at two or three in the morning, after lying awake for an hour, I'd get out of bed, dress and drive to the hospital to see the patient myself. It was the only way I could find the peace of mind I needed to relax.Now, in the last month of my residency, sleeping was no longer a problem. There were still situations in which I couldn't be certain my decision had been the right one, but I had learned to accept this as a constant problem for a surgeon, one that could never be completely resolved - and I could live with it.So, once I had made a considered decision, I no longer dwelt on it. Reviewing it wasn't going to help and I knew that with my knowledge and experience, any decision I'd made was bound to be a sound one. It was a nice feeling.In the operating room I was equally confident. I knew I had the knowledge, the skill, the experience to handle any surgical situation I'd ever encounter in practice. There were no more butterflies in my stomach when I opened up an abdomen or a chest. I knew that even if the case was one in which it was impossible to anticipate the problem in advance, I could handle whatever l found. I'd sweated through my share of stab wounds of the belly, of punctured lungs, of compound fractures. I had sweated over them for five years. I didn't need to sweat any more.Nor was I afraid of making mistakes. I knew that when I was out in practice I would inevitably err at one time or another and operate on someone who didn't need surgery or sit on someone who did. Five years earlier - even one year earlier - I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had had to take sole responsibility for a mistake in judgment. Now I could. I still dreaded errors - would do my best to avoid them -- but I knew they were part of a surgeon's life.I could accept this fact with calmness because I knew that if I wasn't able to avoid a mistake, chances were that no other surgeon could have, either.This all sounds conceited and I guess it is - but a surgeon needs conceit. He needs it to encourage him in trying moments when he's bothered by the doubts and uncertainties that are part of the practice of medicine. He has to feel that he's as good as and probably better than any other surgeon in the world. Call it conceit - call it self-confidence; whatever it was, I had it.In this article the author describes what happened to her one night and what happened to her one night and her feelings about it.There's Only LuckMy mind went numb when I saw the gun pointing against the car window as we pulled out of the garage: This can't be happening to me. Then I felt the gun, cold, against my head, and I heard my friend Jeremy saying, "What do you want? Take my wallet," but at the time I thought of nothing.I remember being vaguely annoyed when the gunman pulled me from the car by the hair. I remember the walk to the house - Jeremy, me, the two men with two guns. I remember the fear and anger in the gunmen's voices because Jeremy was being slow, and I remember wondering why he was being slow. I did not realize that Jeremy had thrown the keys into the shrubbery. But I remember that sound of the gun hitting Jeremy's head and the feeling as the man who had hold of my hair released me. And I remember the split second when I realized he was looking at Jeremy, and I remember wondering how far I could run before he pulled the trigger. But I was already running, and upon reaching the car acrossthe street, I didn't crouch behind it but screamed instead.I remember thinking there was something absurdly melodramatic about screaming "Help, help!" at eight o'clock on a Tuesday evening in December and changing my plea to the more specific "Help, let me in, please let me in!" But the houses were cold, closed, unfriendly, and I ran on until I heard Jeremy's screams behind me announcing that our attackers had fled.The neighbors who had not opened their doors to us came out with baseball bats and helped Jeremy find his glasses and keys. In a group they were very brave. We waited for the cops to come until someone said to someone else that the noodles were getting cold, and I said politely, "Please go and eat. We're O.K."I was happy to see them go. They had been talking of stiffer sentences for criminals, of bringing back the death penalty and how the President is going to clean up the country. I was thinking, they could be saying all of this over my dead body, and I still feel that stiffer sentences wouldn't change a thing. In a rush all the rage I should have felt for my attackers was directed against these contented people standing in front of their warm, cozy homes talking about all the guns they were going to buy. What good would guns have been to Jeremy and me?People all over the neighborhood had called to report our screams, and the police turned out in force twenty minutes later. They were ill-tempered about what was, to them, much ado about nothing. After all, Jeremy was hardly hurt, and we were hopeless when it came to identification. "Typical," said one cop when we couldn't even agree on how tall the men were. Both of us were able to describe the guns in horrifying detail, but the two policemen who stayed to make the report didn't think that would be much help.The cops were matter-of-fact about the whole thing. The thin one said, "That was a stupid thing to do, throwing away the keys. When a man has a gun against your head you do what you're told." Jeremy looked properly sheepish.Then the fat cop same up and the thin one went to look around the outside of the house. "That was the best thing you could have done, throwing away the keys," he said. "If you had gone into the house with them…" His voice trailed off. "They would have hurt her" - he jerked his head toward me - "and killed you both." Jeremy looked happier. "Look," said the fat cop kindly, "there's no right of wrong in the situation. There's just luck."All that sleepless night I replayed the moment those black gloves came up to the car window. How long did the whole thing last? Three minutes, five, eight? No matter how many hours of my life I may spend reliving it, I know there is no way to prepare for the next time - no intelligent response to a gun. The fat cop was right: There's only luck. The next time I might end up dead.And I'm sure there will be a next time. It can happen anywhere, anytime, to anyone. Security is an illusion; there is no safety in locks or in guns. Guns make some people feel safe and some people feel strong, but they're fooling themselvesEver thought about cheating on a test? Of course not. But some students are not qu ite so honest …Honesty: Is It Going Out of Style?According to a recent poll, 61 percent of American high school students have admitted to cheating on exams at least once. It can be argued such a response my not mean much. After all, most students have been faced with the temptation to peek at a neighbor's test paper. And students can be hard on themselves in judging such behavior. However, there are other indications that high school cheating may be on the rise.More and more states are requiring students to pass competency tests in order to receive their high school diplomas. And many educators fear that an increase in the use of state exams will lead to a corresponding rise in cheating. A case in point is students in New York State who faced criminal misdemeanor charges for possessing and selling advance copies of state Regents examinations.Cheating is considered to be a major problem in colleges and universities. Several professors say they've dropped the traditional term paper requirement because many students buy prewritten term papers, and they can't track down all the cheaters anymore.Colleges and universities across the nation have decided to do more than talk about the rise in student cheating. For instance, the Department of Psychology at the University of Maryland launched a campaign to stop one form of cheating. As 409 students filed out of their exam, they found all but one exit blocked. Proctors asked each student to produce an ID card with an attached photo. Students who said they'd left theirs in the dorm or at home had a mug shot taken. The purpose of the campaign was to catch "ringers," students who take tests for other students.The majority of students at the University of Maryland applauded the campaign. The campus newspaper editorial said, "Like police arresting speeders, the intent is not to catch everyone but rather to catch enough to spread the word."We frequently hear about "the good old days", when Americans were better, happier, and more honest. But were they more honest? Maybe yes, a long time ago when life was very different from what it is today.School children used to know the story of how Abraham Lincoln walked five miles to return a penny he'd overcharged a customer. It's the kind of story we think of as myth. But in the case of Lincoln, the story is true … unlike the story of George Washington and the cherry tree. Washington's first biographer invented the tale of little George saying to his father, "I cannot tell a lie. I did it with my ax." What is important in both stories, however, is that honesty was seen as an important part of the American character.。
