English Recordings

Do you believe that Global Warming is man made or not, would be interested in seeing what people think and the reasons behind it.

Why I don't believe that Global Warming is Man Made.
Since Al_Gore's Inconvenient Truth I became fascinated by one statement he made, "tipping point of global warming".

I always wondered how it were possible for man to use resources on the Earth to put the Earth in an irreparable state.
From inception it seemed like nonsense to me, but since I wasn't a geologist or climatologist
I decided to dig up all the info I could on Earth's climate through the various eras.

Now the Earth is 4.5 billion years old and man has only been around about 200 000 years or so if you look at existing fossil records.

Of those 200 000 years the only period that man could impact the CO2 output significantly would be during the last 200 years or so due to industrialization.

Now looking at that alone you can see that man's existence has been insignificant on the time scale of the Earth.

So how could man bring the Earth to a "tipping point" in 200 years?

♣I'm trying to write in English to practice English expression. If you have any suggestions for better expressions, please provide them. (=If you have any suggestions for better ways to say these things, please let me know. ) Thanks for reading!

<awe-inspiring grandeur > <November 17, 2013> One of my acquaintances recently returned from a trip to Huang-Shan, China.Today, he sent us some pictures that he took himself to my phone. I went there (Huang-Shan) over 10 ago; however, too much time has passed, so I have a faint memory of that visit. Through this picture I can see Huang-Shan's magnificent views and I can feel more keenly its awe-inspiring grandeur.China has so many kind of great natural resources!

(November 17,2013) <Small back yards behind of school building>There are some benches and trees behind the school classroom, but there aren't many people who are concerned about it. So it looks like a neglected place from everyone. It seems that it is used as a passageway to home for children. Me too, I stumble upon this place yesterday afternoon. This place is behind of a school building, but I feel this place is a cozy place for the autumn feeling.

In light of the material presented in the second half of semester, present your own view of the nature of human language.
You might want to focus on the issue of social convention vs individual psychology or on linguistic variation and language Learning
or on the relations between linguistic structure and general cognition. Your essay should show that you have listened to the lectures,
read the set reading and thought about the issues raised there. However, we are most interested in what your own view of the nature of human language is.
Your essay should present an academic argument whose aim is both to explain your view to the reader and to convince the reader of the rightness of your perspective.

The first section deals with getting chemicals legally. This section deals with "procuring" them.
The best place to steal chemicals is a college.

Many state schools have all of their chemicals out on the shelves in the labs, and more in their chemical stockrooms. Evening is the best time to enter lab buildings, as there are the least number of people in the buildings, and most of the labs will still be unlocked.

One simply takes a bookbag, wears a dress shirt and jeans, and tries to resemble a college freshman.
If anyone asks what such a person is doing, the thief can simply say that he is looking for the polymer chemistry lab, or some other chemistry-related department other than the one they are in.
One can usually find out where the various labs and departments in a building are by calling the university.

There are, of course other techniques for getting into labs after hours,
such as placing a piece of cardboard in the latch of an unused door, such as a back exit.
Then, all one needs to do is come back at a later hour. Also, before this is done, terrorists check for security systems.

If one just walks into a lab, even if there is someone there, and walks out the back exit,
and slip the cardboard in the latch before the door closes, the person in the lab will never know what happened.

It is also a good idea to observe the building that one plans to rob at the time that one plans to rob it several days before the actual theft is done.
This is advisable since the would-be thief should know when and if the campus security makes patrols through buildings.

Of course, if none of these methods are successful, there is always section 2.11, but as a rule, college campus security is pretty poor, and nobody suspects another person in the building of doing anything wrong, even if they are there at an odd hour.

Henry VIII was born in Greenwich near London on June 28th, 1491. He became King of England in 1509. He was tall and he had ginger hair and a beard. He was very good at sports and languages, he was also a musician. He had six wives because he wanted a son to be King after him. His first wife was Catherine of Aragon. They had a daughter, Mary, born in 1516.Catherine didn't have a male child so Henry VIII divorced her. Then he fell in love with Ann Boleyn. They had a daughter, Elizabeth, but no male child. Ann was accused of infidelity and she was beheaded at the Tower of London in 1536. Then Henry VIII married Jane Seymour, they had a son Edward in 1537, but Jane died when she had the baby. In 1540 Henry VIII married Ann of Cleves, a German princess, but he didn't like her so he got a divorce. At the age of forty-nine he married the young Catherine Howard, who was only eighteen. She had many lovers so she was beheaded in 1542. Henry VIII 's last wife was Catherine Parr, she became a companion and nurse for the sick King who died in London on January 28th, 1547.Edward VI became King after his father but he died when he was fifteen. Then, Mary became Queen. When she died, Elizabeth came to the throne, she reigned for forty-five years and ...she never married !

This novel is narrated by the title character. It is a psychological thriller that Stephen King dedicated to his mother.

A time traveler tries to prevent the assassination of John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963. The novel accurately portrays the late 1950s and early 1960s in America.

A shy high school girl uses her newly discovered telekinetic powers to exact revenge. The book is written with newspaper clippings, magazine articles, letters....

This big book has a very short title... It tells the story of seven children as they are terrorized by a sadistic clown.

This book is a memoir of the author's experiences as a writer.

There is a child spelling mistake in the title of this book.... At first, King thought his book was too scary to be published....

All the residents of this town are becoming vampires..

This is a psychological horror novel about a writer rescued from a car crash by a crazed fan.

The title of this book was inspired by the John Lennon song "Instant Karma!", it contained the line "We all shine on…"

Reduce! Reuse! Recycle!
Use both sides of every sheet of paper.
Turn off the lights when you leave a room.
Do not litter.
Plant a vegetable garden.
Bring reusable bags to the grocery store.
Take a shower instead of a bath.
Turn off the tap when you brush your teeth.
Plant a tree.
Support your local parks and go outside!

In the year he fully expected to die, he spent the majority of his fifty-third birthday as he did
most other days, listening to people complain about their mothers. Thoughtless mothers, cruel
mothers, sexually provocative mothers. Dead mothers who remained alive in their children’s minds.
Living mothers, whom their children wanted to kill. Mr. Bishop, in particular, along with Miss Levy
and the genuinely unlucky Roger Zimmerman, who shared his Upper West Side apartment and it
seemed the entirety of both his waking life and his vivid dreams with a hypochondriac, manipulative,
shrewish woman who seemed dedicated to nothing less than ruining her only child’s every meager
effort at independence-all of them used the entirety of their hours that day to effuse bitter vitriol about
the women who had brought them into this world.
He listened quietly to great surges of murderous hatred, only occasionally interjecting the most
modest of benign comments, never once interrupting the anger that spewed forth from the couch, all
the time wishing that just one of his patients would take a deep breath and step back from their rage
for an instant and see it for what it truly was: fury with themselves. He knew, through experience and
training, that eventually, after years of talking bitterly in the oddly detached world of the analyst’s
office, all of them, even poor, desperate, and crippled Roger Zimmerman, would reach that
understanding themselves.
Still, the occasion of his birthday, which reminded him most directly of his own mortality, made
him wonder whether he would have enough time remaining to see any of them through to that moment
of acceptance which is the analyst’s eureka. His own father had died shortly after he reached his fiftythird
year, heart weakened through years of chain smoking and stress, a fact that he knew lurked
subtly and malevolently beneath his consciousness. So, as the unpleasant Roger Zimmerman moaned
and whined his way through the final few minutes of the last session of the day, he was slightly
distracted, and not paying the complete attention he should have been when he heard the faint triple
buzz of the bell he’d installed in his waiting room.
The bell was his standard signal that a patient had arrived. Every new client was told prior to
their first session that upon entry, they were to produce two short rings, in quick succession, followed
by a third, longer peal. This was to differentiate the ring from any tradesman, meter reader, neighbor,
or delivery service that might have arrived at his door.
Without shifting position, he glanced over at his daybook, next to the clock he kept on the small
table behind the patient’s head, out of their sight. The six p.m. entry was blank. The clock face read
twelve minutes to six, and Roger Zimmerman seemed to stiffen in his position on the couch.
“I thought I was the last every day.”
He did not respond.
“No one has ever come in after me, at least not that I can remember. Not once. Have you changed
your schedule around without telling me?”
Again, he did not reply.
“I don’t like the idea that someone comes after me,” Zimmerman said decisively. “I want to be
last.”
“Why do you think you feel that way?” he finally questioned.
“In its own special way, last is the same as first,” Zimmerman answered with a harshness of tone
that implied that any idiot would have seen the same.
He nodded. Zimmerman had made an intriguing and accurate observation. But, as the poor fellow
seemed forever doomed to do, he had made it in the session’s final moment. Not at the start, where
they might have managed some profitable discussion over the remaining fifty minutes. “Try to bring
that thought with you tomorrow,” he said. “We could begin there. I’m afraid our time is up for today.”

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"