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It is now more than thirty years since James Bond made his initial appearance in Ian Fleming’s Casino Royale first published in 1953. Yet his popularity seems undiminished. Indeed, the currency of Bond received a remarkable fillip in 1983 when the much-heralded ‘battle of the Bonds’ at last arrived with the release of Octopussy in which Roger Moore played Bond for the sixth time, and Never Say Never Again in which Sean Connery returned to the role for the first time since Diamonds are Forever (1971). The critics responded to Connery’s return with rapturous yelps of delight. ‘Sean Connery is back and greater than ever,’ Rex Read enthused in The New York Post whilst Joel Siegal, of ABC’s Good Morning America reported: ‘Bond is wonderful. For Bond fans I was up there cheering.’ The same year also saw a revival in Bond’s literary fortunes with the publication of John Gardner’s License Renewed three months on the New York Times best seller list. ‘Literature’s most celebrated spy,’ according to Time ‘still retains his license to kill.’

Senior Citizens from three high rise apartment buildings were studied to find if the elderly present special needs. The investigation consisted of a number of shopping trips by chartered bus to a supermarket. A tally was kept recording responses to a greeting on a cue day and responses on a non-cue day when no greeting was given. Four null hypotheses were tested resulting in evidence that the elderly respond more often when a verbal stimulus is present, than when not. It was found that the elderly do present unique needs and society must communicate more with them and with those who are dealing with the elderly on a regular basis.

On the third day of my hospitalization, I was awakened at 7:80 A.M. by a cheerful voice. An attractive young lady was standing at the foot of my roommate's bed. "Good morning," she said, "I'm Miss Jones. I'm a student nurse. I've been assigned to your room this morning." Her voice fell slightly but still clung to the note of good cheer. "This is my instructor, Miss Hogan." Miss Hogan cast an appraising eye over us, smiled briefly, and was gone, leaving us to Miss Jones who proceeded to demonstrate her training. I watched fascinated as my fellow patient disappeared in a flurry of elbows and flying linen. I watched as his teeth were taken out of his mouth, polished to a brilliant gleam, and replaced. I heard him protest feebly that he was capable of washing his own face. At that moment five or six other girls entered the room to make his bed. Somebody pulled the curtain between the beds and I took this opportunity to sneak into the bathroom. Through the door I could hear their gay chatter. "Isn't that better?"

Mr Doubtful. Good morning to you, friend; I understand you profess Chartist principles, and as I confess, in common with many others, my ignorance of what Chartism means, I should be obliged by your informing me what is the meaning of the term ‘Chartist.’

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! It is a great pleasure, as always, to have the opportunity of visiting in Germany again and doubly a pleasure to have the opportunity of presenting some thoughts on systems management to this distinguished group. It seems that I am always fated to be talking about something that I find difficult to define. I note that other speakers who talk about systems and systems management usually avoid defining it in any rigorous sense. As I proceed today I am going to try to define it well enough so that you will know the particular thing that I am talking about.

We have often heard that our University, with its paucity of halls of residence and common rooms used for the right purpose, is fast developing the atmosphere of a huge and impersonal technical college. The undergraduate, his brain dulled by the heavy aroma of haddock, emerges each morning from his “digs”. He returns in the early evening to decipher a sheaf of laboriously scribbled notes that might even be headed by the “good morning, ladies and gentlemen” with which his lecturer aroused him from complete coma into the semi-conscious state in which the rest of his day is spent. He has contributed nothing to, and has gained nothing from his day at the “University.”

Good Morning, Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure being here with you. In fact, I might even say it’s truly a joy for me because I personally am attracted to your State of Florida very much. With all its industrial growth and beaches and bikinis, not to mention Don Metzger’s typically beautiful weather, who wouldn’t be attracted? Paper published with permission.

I AM sure that I have previously referred to my first experience of American nursing when I was sent on temporary duty to an American Army hospital in Munich just after the end of the war in Europe. On my first morning in the ward, when I was introduced to the chief nurse by the American medical officer, I greeted her in customary British fashion by saying, "Good morning, Sister." She was young and good looking, but froze me with her stare and rebuked me smartly by saying, "Lieutenant to you, Captain." I suppose that our chief ward nurses have . . .

With all the problems in the world today, when many people wake up in the morning, they are tempted to go back to sleep. There is something exciting about waking up in the morning as an engineer. We run toward problems and we solve problems. Thank goodness for everybody in this room that you are an engineer, someone who supports engineering, or simply supports an engineer enough to come with him or her today. Let me describe in brief the problems the Grand Challenges can solve. Last night there were 1.3 billion people in the world that did not have to turn off a light switch when they went to bed, because they did not have electricity. Before this day is done, 2.4 billion people will cook on a stove that can deteriorate their health through the harmful smoke. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), 4 million people will die each year from poor indoor air quality. 7.3 billion people are in the biggest chemistry experiment of all time. We are heating up the earth, and there is no way out if it does not work. As Dan Mote described, “That is what the vision was for the Grand Challenges to preserve life in a quality way on this earth.” We engineers have the tools and techniques to make that happen. Now, I want to fast-forward and tell you what you are going to hear from every speaker for the rest of the conference. I will make a prediction. I could be wrong, but I will make a prediction anyway. You are going to hear that on all fourteen Grand Challenges, we have made real progress since February 2008 when they first saw the light of day. It varies, some much more than others, although made progress. All of our speakers will tell you that the progress is not fast enough. We must pick up the pace from what we are doing today. This conference should be about how do we pick up the pace. Your first question might be, “How much do we need to increase the pace?” Let us say today we are walking at a normal pace. Would walking at a fast pace be fast enough? No, I do not think so. Would a jog be fast enough? No, I do not think so. We are going to have to run. Now, it may not be a sprint, it may be a marathon pace of running, but we are going to have to run. This is a big change from today. The challenge we have today is how do we take up the pace? I want to share three ideas. I hope they are ideas you will not hear anywhere else in this conference. I tried to pick ones that I did not think would come up and that will be critical to implementing the Grand Challenges, because it is not just about great engineering, it is about implementation. The first one relates to the people we need to work with us to make this a success that are not engineers. We need governments. We need non-governmental organizations (NGOs). We need companies. Most importantly we need the citizens of the world to be a part of this. This means as we talk to all the constituents that we need, we must talk in terms they will understand. If we just share how great engineering is and how tough the problems are, it will probably turn them off pretty fast. My challenge to you throughout this conference is, when you are thinking about your work or one of the student teams that presented yesterday, describe the benefits first, then talk about the great engineering that goes behind it. I think that is very critical. Here are a couple of examples from my experience. I work for Shell. We have 43 000 retail fuel stations in the world. I have been very specific. I have told you exactly how many we have. But have I really communicated anything to you? If you are not in the retail fuel business, you probably do not have a good sense of whether 43 000 is a lot or a little. Now if I tell you we are the biggest branded fuel retailer in the world, all of the sudden you think that is must be a lot. If I tell you we have more retail outlets than McDonald’s, you may say that is really a lot. Then if I tell you we sell to 10 000 customers every minute, you would say that is fantastic. By the way, we are the largest brand leader of any company in the industry selling to consumers in the world. That same 43 000 put in another perspective really communicates something else. I challenge you as you think about communicating: Speak in terms the receiver of the information can understand and connect to. In Shell, we are now working to site a major Carbon Capture Project through a surrogate in Scotland. We need the help of the UK government. When we speak with the government, we talk about the 500 000 homes we can provide electricity to without carbon dioxide. We do not talk in the terms that may be more important to us as engineers. The last example I would like to share with you relates to the idea that when you describe your work, it does not always have to quantitative. When I started my career at DuPont, I remember going into a review about reducing one of our waste products. The debate during the meeting centered on “Is there really enough waste to make an investment worth the cost?” At this particular

One day I walked with one of these middleclass gentlemen into Manchester. I spoke to him about the disgraceful unhealthy slums and drew his attention to the disgusting conditions of that part of town in which the factory workers lived. I declared that I had never seen so badly built a town in my life. He listened patiently and at the corner of the street at which we parted company he remarked: "And yet there is a good deal of money made here. Good morning, Sir."

My first case was a lady with a bug in her ear. I never saw her. I spoke with her on the telephone at 2 AM the morning my medical practice began. She claimed she woke up with a bug in her ear. She wanted me to drive to her house and remove it, or at least do something. Was there a drug for this? she wondered. No. The problem evoked no routine answer from my medical training. She seemed serious enough. I decided to interview her. What kind of a bug was it? Did you actually see it crawl into your ear? And which ear was it anyway? I finally told her to go soak her head. She wasn't amused. I explained that if she were to submerge her head under water in a tub and leave just enough room to breath comfortably, she would drown the bug. I

How should a physician address his patients? The patients address the physician? And why one way rather than another? The questions are simple, the answers are not. When Juliet asked, "What's in a name?" she did not realize that the answer might involve cultural anthropology, history, linguistics, and ethics. Modes of address, and the replies thereto, provide a great deal of sociological information. If we hear a voice, "Oh, Ellen," and then a reply, "Yes, Ma'am?" we perceive a certain status level. If we hear, "Yes, Aunt Jane?" or "Yes, Doctor?" we perceive different levels. Or, if one voice says, "Oh, Mr. Johnson," and another, "Hey, buddy," we note distinctly different levels of respect. Or again, if one voice says, "Good morning, Dr Jones," and another, "Good morning, Doc," we hear a clear variance in deference. The actual use of names and titles is culturally determined, differing from one country

Jean Rhys is one of the greatest novelists of alienation. Because much of her work has an obviously autobiographical base and because she was relatively obscure during her writing life, she has been treated out of her historical context as an individual and pathological voice, the voice of a female victim. The alienation of her characters has alienated some of her critics who wish to exclude themselves from the experiences about which she writes, although they applaud her artistic skill, particularly her purity of style.1 Her great theme, however, resists this exclusion. She does not treat alienation as an existential fact but as the specific historical result of social polarizations about sex, class, and morality. Her heroes are women alienated from others and themselves because they are female, poor, and sexually active. They are also misdefined by a language and literary heritage that belong primarily to propertied

The protagonist-narrator of Jean Rhys's Good Morning, Midnight does not provide us with any salutary account of how she escaped from some dark wood of despair to the light of a rekindled affirmation of life. Nor should she, considering the evidence at hand. One gigolo, somewhat prone to violence but surprisingly reluctant to take, in the monetary sense, a woman not rich for the taking, hardly constitutes any conclusive demonstration of pervasive human goodness. In brief, the world of Sasha Jansen continues to turn in very much the same fashion that it has always turned, and the catastasis of the novel does not at all cancel out the protagonist's previous sad experience with men. Yet, somehow, the penultimate episode, Sasha's disaster with the gigolo, can still be followed by her "yes" to a man hitherto despised. That unlikely assent making do with the partner at hand? a recognition of the narrow limits of her own life? an act of supreme charity? constitutes the crux and resolution of this difficult work. It is a "yes" that has not yet been adequately assessed. Judging by all that has gone before, the final action in the novel should constitute Sasha's most humiliating defeat. Her listening neighbor, the commis voyageur ("commercial traveler"), overhears the gigolo depart and decides to fill the role his rival has apparently abdicated. Sasha has just wept and prayed for the return of the young man whom minutes before she had asked and paid to leave

This fifth of October in Santiago the springtime begins to brighten with the first hints of a victorious dawn. Even the immense crowns of the yellow aromo trees seem to radiate a breath as delicate as that of newborns. There is a gentleness in the air already promising a dawn of illusions and beginnings. By means of civic peaceful action, the people of Chile defeated the tyrannical dictatorship of General Augusto Pinochet thereby turning the beautiful statement of Salvador Allende into prophecy: It is the people who make history. As in 1971 when the Marxist government of Salvador Allende was elected according to the legal requirements set forth in the Chilean constitution, so on this October fifth, 1988, the dictatorship was rejected, not by wars or revolutions, but by the exercise of that fundamental right of citizens of a free country: the right to choose freely those who will govern them. On this October fifth I said to myself with great joy, "Good morning, my Chile." Today we greet each other with generous hands filled with those magical lilies and forget-me-nots breaking into blossom along the welcoming avenues. Today we say no more to sinister torture, to cruel disappearances, to imprisonments, because as of today the defeated dictator can no longer decide on a whim who lives and who dies, and who must undergo another session of torture. And the generals can no longer sit around an elegant table to discuss which type of torture is more efficient: electric shocks applied to the gums or to the genitals. Very early in the morning the streets of my city fill with people as trees in springtime fill with leaves. The city resembles a goddess awaiting a miraculous child. Spontaneously, everybody spills out into the streets to sing, but no longer chanting that famous slogan [Va a caer. Va a caer./He's going to fall. He's going to fall.]. He's going to fall because he has actually already fallen. Brimming over with happiness, we go out into the streets; we all feel so light and that gentle air that one breathes in the streets of my city seems

Jean Rhys launched her career as a writer in 1927 with the lavish praise and strong support of Ford Madox Ford, drew attention again in England in 1958 with the BBC broadcast of Good Morning, Midnight (1939) and the subsequent bestowal of the W. H. Smith Award for Wide Sargasso Sea (1966), and caught the awareness of the American public in 1974 when A. Alvarez pronounced her "quite simply, the best living English novelist."' These promising indications have not bred the serious interest one might expect. Although some articles on Rhys have appeared in popular magazines, she has received little critical attention, especially from women, despite her exceptional technical skill and the relevance of her subject matter to the women's movement.2 Is Rhys's relentless

REMEMBER the joke about two psychiatrists who meet on an elevator. The first psychiatrist says, "Good morning!" The second says (to himself), "What did he mean by that? " When someone casually asks about those two drinks every evening before dinner, the first question the physician might in turn ask (himself) is, why is he asking this question? Has an Authority for All Seasons at your friend's luncheon club said to him, "Drinking like that on an empty stomach will ruin a man's liver"? Think back, did your friend say two martinis before dinner or was it before lunch? Has your patient been listening to the radio and learned that alcoholism is our worst drug problem? One person in ten, or seven, or twenty has a drinking problem. A doubt begins to grow and he asks himself, "Have I got a problem?" Maybe his wife has asked the question, "George, do

To the Editor.— Some critics of excessive participation of the "poor" in medical experiments have suggested prohibition of their use in such studies ("poor" defined as prisoners, students, and patients attending the clinics of teaching hospitals—in short, populations "deprived not only for strictly economic reasons, but also because of social, cultural, administrative, and political factors"). In their place, others not disadvantaged or dependent would participate. To ensure equality of opportunity, computer techniques would be used to select potential volunteers for studies. Other prohibited groups would be those thought by some to be unable to offer true informed consent, eg, children, the aged, soldiers. As I dozed over the discussion of these issues, an insight into the future unfolded before me: Employment Manager: Good Morning, what can I do for you? Applicant: I'd like to apply for the job you advertised in the paper. Employment Manager: Very well, may I have

Realism in American painting of the 1920s reveals two major directions—the picturization of the appearance of American life, or what was in the ‘thirties to be called the “American Scene,” which in spite of its surface objectivity often implied critical attitudes; and the more obviously critical art of social protest. The latter was kept alive in the pages of such radical publications as the Liberator, a direct descendant of the old Masses; Good Morning, Art Young's attempt to rival such European satirical journals as Gil Blas, Assiette au Beurre, Jugend and Simplicissimus; and the New Masses, the new rallying place for artists of social protest. The spirit of political and social criticism was kept alive in the cartoons and drawings in these magazines.

Jean Rhys, born in the West Indies in 1894, published five books between 1927 and 1939. Her first collection of stories was sponsored by Ford Madox Ford, and her four succeeding novels were praised by reviewers in England and America. But because of the outbreak of war in 1939, her books were not reprinted, and she dropped out of public attention. Then, in 1958, the BBC broadcast a dramatized version of her novel, Good Morning, Midnight. Its critical reception encouraged Rhys to publish some short stories which she had written and to begin work on the novel which in 1966 gained the highest praise of any of her writings, Wide Sargasso Sea. In it she tells the story of the first Mrs. Rochester, the shadowy figure whom Charlotte Bronte only lightly sketched in Jane Eyre. Wide Sargasso Sea is both an imaginative tour de force and a novel valuable in its own right. It places the earlier novels in a new perspective which shows that Jean Rhys is not one of the also-rans but a master of her genre. In her novels she depicts the character of one particular type of woman, while exploring certain human themes and constantly attempting to develop a close relationship between style and content. Her books are now again in print and are being read throughout the world, especially in Holland, Belgium, and France, where Pierre Leyris is translating her stories.1 Yet Rhys remains a mysterious figure-so much so that when, in 1969, the London Observer published Marcelle Bernstein's interview with her it was appropriately entitled "The Inscrutable Miss Jean Rhys."2

Some nurses either deliberately or unwittingly keep patients from talking about themselves, and thus deny them the right to talk about their feelings. This kind of nurse needs to use a defensive mechanism to avoid becoming involved in other persons' feelings and troubles. Her attitude is usually defended on the grounds of "getting the work done." Her practice of nursing includes fostering the patient's right to talk and to be heard. A nurse who does not know what to do when a patient cries, throws his coffee on the floor, complains about the food, says his doctor never comes to see him, or turns his light on every 15 minutes, usually labels him "uncooperative" and makes no effort to find out why he behaves in these ways. Nurses have been taught to cheer the patient, to look on the brighter side, to defend the food, to defend the doctor who doesn't visit the uncooperative patient, to defend the night nurse who, the patient swears, gives the most painful injections of any nurse he ever knew. Also, the nurse has been told to "teach the patient." She teaches him regardless of his readiness for learning. This may be all very well, but first things first-let her learn to listen before teaching. Reassurance means to restore confidence to a person. According to Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary, confidence means a state of trust. A patient who can trust a nurse (or a nurses aide, an orderly, or other personnel) can confide in that person. If the patient tells the nurse what is bothering him, he can experience a feeling of relief because he has someone with whom he can share his feelings, and both the nurse and the patient can explore more fully what his problem is or what he needs reasuring about. The first step in reassurance then, is to establish a feeling of trust so that the patient can confide in the nurse. When he begins to talk he is on the first step toward being resassured. Here's a sample of a typical conversation I have heard between a patient and a nurse: Nurse: Good Morning! How are you today? Patient: Not so good. Nurse: You're looking better! Patient: I don't feel better. I can't get my breath. Nurse: You have nothing to worry about; Dr. Brown is a fine doctor.

THE TERM number gambling refers to the practice of wagering on the 1 outcome of certain numbers. It embraces a variety of games which diSer principally in the way the winning number is determined. The two basic types are 'policy,' in which the winning number is obtained by a drawing, and 'numbers,' in which the winning number is derived from various published statistics. Number gambling has its chief incidence among Negroes and the lower income levels of other groups. It is commonly referred to as the 'poor man's roulette,' since the minimum wager is ten cents in many of the games; in some instances it is as low as one cent. Drake and Cayton2 in their definitive study of Chicago's Negro community have characterized number gambling as a big business, a cult, and a community institution. This clearly summarizes the significant role which the activity has come to have in the life of the urban Negro. In every respect number gambl1ng is a big business. It has been estimated by some that for the country as a whole an annual intake of a billion dollars is probably conservative. Drake and Cayton estimate that in Chicago in 1938 there were approximately five hundred number banks paying a total of some $25,000 weekly in wages alone. It is judged that these banks employed over five thousand people and had an annual gross turnover of at least $18,000,000. It is likely that since that time income and wages have tripled. It goes without saying that a business of this size involves extensive and intricate organization. The cultist nature of number gambling is readily apparent. In the Negro community 'the numbers' are a perennial topic of conversation. Wherever people congregate one may hear 'number talk.' And frequently comments on the numbers have become the accepted form of greeting. Instead of the customary 'Good morning' or 'How do you do,' we often hear 'What was it?' and the answer '327,' '413,' '87S,' or whatever the winning number happens to be. The hold which this activity has on its devotees is shown also in their feverish pursuit of 'lucky numbers' via dream books, lucky incense and potions, spiritualists, numerologists, and conSdence men.