Monkey Is A Classic 18th Century Chinese Folk Tale

Screenplays are meant to inspire the imagination and display a prevalent theme in an interactive and approachable manner. Monkey is a classic 16th century Chinese folk tale novel that mixes allegory, history, and satire into a chaotic but however meaningful adventure. As a combination of being a picaresque novel and a fold tale epic, magical realism is evident and plays a big role in the story. The allegorical nature of the characters and the anti-bureaucratic satire makes the novel more alluring and thus has made the story more enduring and popular. The vivid imagery and descriptions makes the story come alive as Hsuan Tsang, Tripitaka, ventures in his arduous travels to find the Buddhist scrolls and scriptures leading to eventual success†¦show more content†¦A pine-tree? Did you think I taught you in order that you might show off in front of other people† (Wu 27)? The novel serves as a dazzling combination of slapstick comedy, spiritual wisdom, and nonsense with prof undity. Particularly interesting is the metamorphosis of the Monkey or the symbolism of the Stone Monkey. This character change is noteworthy and would be a focal aspect of the screenplay. In the end, accomplishing the mission of reaching the scrolls back to China, Tripitaka and his three disciples get escorted to heaven by the eight Vajraparis. They all get promoted by Buddha himself as Tripitaka is now â€Å"Buddha of Precocious Merit,† Monkey is made to â€Å"Buddha Victorious in Strife,† and Pigsy is the â€Å"Cleanser of Altars.† In the beginning the Monkey is carved out of stone symbolizing his lack of being apprehensive and belittling fear. Because of how he was brought to existence his careless and reckless nature was brought about by how he was born with no family, especially parents. Due to his recklessness and misbehavior in Heaven, Monkey had to be trapped under the Mountain of five elements. This is particularly interesting as this entrapment serves as symbo lism of how Buddha is superior to man, and the need for the quest to enlightenment. However, a distinct change was evident as mentioned, â€Å"But fortunately, when the time of your retribution was ended, you turned your heart to the Great faith and your endeavor to theShow MoreRelatedPhili Literature3111 Words   |  13 Pagesby Pio Duran e. Fables. These are also fictitious and they deal with animals and inanimate things that speak and act like people and their purpose is to enlighten the minds of children to events that can mold their ways and attitudes. Example: THE MONKEY AND THE TURTLE f. Anecdotes. These are merely products of the writer’s imagination and the main aim is to bring out lessons to the reader. Example: THE MOTH AND THE LAMP g. Essay. This expresses the viewpoint or opinion of the writer about a particularRead MoreProject Mgmt296381 Words   |  1186 Pageswave This page intentionally left blank Project Management The Managerial Process The McGraw-Hill/Irwin Series Operations and Decision Sciences OPERATIONS MANAGEMENT Beckman and Rosenfield, Operations, Strategy: Competing in the 21st Century, First Edition Benton, Purchasing and Supply Chain Management, Second Edition Bowersox, Closs, and Cooper, Supply Chain Logistics Management, Third Edition Brown and Hyer, Managing Projects: A Team-Based Approach, First Edition Burt, Petcavage, and

A year had departed since that fatal day Free Essays

Everyday I pathologically relived those agonizing memories every detail had been scrutinized while sat in this chair being handed chipped mugs of luke warm instant coffee in return for reassurance that I was still present in this empty and hollow world. I never responded; there was no point, but they gained their reassurance from my deep laboured breathing and went away content. I’d never enlightened anyone as to my thoughts, my inner most feelings; I had no one to trust. We will write a custom essay sample on A year had departed since that fatal day or any similar topic only for you Order Now How could I trust them they held out their hand and pulled me back from that cliff top, the only place I felt comfortable. They said they would help me. Instead they gave me a room full of memories; an environment where my goal was unattainable, and concluded for themselves a reason â€Å"why† based on half truths and other peoples opinions. â€Å"He can’t cope, poor chap† was a common phrase for gods sake I wasn’t coping, I was planning. They had people come to sit with me on a Tuesday. All kinds of people: young, old, professional, dole fraudsters, priests. Sometimes a familiar person would come and sit beside me who’d talk at me and I wouldn’t force myself to listen. Sometimes my ears would pick up as they talked about people who I’d known and things I’d done. I couldn’t remember them but they made sense. I never acknowledged them and they left soon after, shaking their heads and having a conference in the corridor at my expense. I only trusted one person, and she was unreachable. This day had felt different from the outset; something had unbalanced my routine and my usual blueprint of thought. I awoke a little earlier and glared around my room, my cage. This was not my home; it was a prison for my thoughts. I ambled my way to the lounge; it was an unsettling place, not pleasant like my lounge at home. Our lounge at home. Our home that was. Instead it was a mild form of hell. I regained my territorial seat near the window and blocked out all the bawls and whimpers from my surroundings and stared aimlessly out onto the main road. It was morning rush hour and as my eyes filled and discharged, the lights of this dreary winter morning mingled from one colour to another. I saw the box of tissues resting on the sideboard, their miserable attempt at making this unfamiliar room more homely, but I didn’t reach for them. I could have looked round to see what was going on, but I knew. I heard the cries, the crashes, the screams of restraint and the eerie silence that followed. I knew that it was soon to be accompanied by the sound of glass being swept, the tinkling like a wind chime blowing softly in the humid Barbados breeze of my honeymoon. Our honeymoon. Sat on the beach sipping cocktails and each night making passionate love in the most luxurious apartment in town. It was a happy thought I know but instead it drew a tear. I stepped back into my world. Each day was identical. But not this day, today was a year since that horrendous day. The day I repeat in my head over and over, that I couldn’t escape from if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to escape from it, for escaping would be forgetting and I couldn’t lose the pressures memories we had. Memories were all I have now. Nobody knew why I sat here looking at this road. Just as well because if they did they wouldn’t allow it. It was a constant reminder. Most days I would see the same white Astra with the same dinted bonnet and cracked bumper, pass over the same spot it did a year ago today. Some days it would be late but it would nearly always be there. Sometimes I would see it on an evening, the new haphazardly applied â€Å"Kill Your Speed† sticker strategically on the rear bumper. It would always slow for the crossing. The driver always slowed for the crossing, but he hadn’t one day. Maybe one was enough for him. Maybe he knew next time he wouldn’t get off so lightly. They let me out, but I didn’t want to go. â€Å"The door is open,† they said, sure it was open but I wasn’t going to pass through it. I could see the world from the 4th story lounge the windows were sealed shut. Shame, it would have been quick and painless, but not part of the plan. It was 9am; she would have been on her way to work now. I would normally give her a lift, but not that day. That day she wanted to walk. A final goodbye kiss accompanied by a waving hand as she disappeared round the corner, the distinctive clicking of her heals disappearing. My house was just around the corner from here. Our house. Not anymore. My things had been put into storage and my landscaped garden has been bulldozed for a square of low maintenance turf. It was nearly time to meet her. I got up from my seat and wandered to my room. I rummaged round my bedside draw until I found my key. It glinted in the light like a precious jewel. Some would say it looked sinister, but it was the only way I could join her, and I had made a promise so I had to keep it. I walked out of the room; out of the door and down the four flights of steps to the ground. There was no need to rush, by the time they had noticed, I’d have crossed over. I walked out of the suburbs until the houses thinned and the city life died away behind me. I passed under the neatly trimmed fern archway and into the grassy pastures where I knew I would find her. I’d only been here once before but I knew my way. When I reached where she lived now, I sat down. The ground was cold. I put my hand in my pocket and reached for my key. I watched with intent as I ran the cold metal down the un-weathered skin of my inner left arm. It tingled slightly. I placed the key back in my pocket and lay down, my left arm on the concrete. I closed my eyes and remembered how it had happened; as I waited for the ice to thaw on the car windows I heard the screech of the brakes and the heart wrenching scream. I remembered how I had dropped the ice scraper and run along the snow dusted path to the crossing. I remembered how I had looked for her as I ran calling her name louder with each step. I remembered seeing the windscreen of a white Astra smeared with red blood, and now in front if it she had lay there helplessly. No one had tried to help. I remembered how I had flopped to my knees and gazed into her eyes as she breathed slower and slower. How the sirens wailed in the background. How I had scooped her head in my arms, her long hair that had been so smartly and expertly tied into a tight bun bound with a red ribbon – ruffled. Her designer jacket that I had bought her for Christmas – ripped. I remember how she gazed back and pulled my head closer to hers and whispered â€Å"I’m not going to make it, am I?† I remembered how I had croaked back the tears and told her â€Å"Wherever you go, I go. I can’t live without you† She smiled back at me, a tear rolled down her face and she whispered, â€Å"I don’t want to leave you. God please don’t let me†¦.† She gasped for breath but breath didn’t come. She held me tight, looked at me as another tear rolled down her cheek and was accompanied by two of mine. â€Å"I love you. Iâ€⠄¢ll be with you soon† I had said. She nodded and closed her eyes. Her arms relaxed and fell from around me. I had ran back to the house, fumbled at the lock with my frozen blood stained hands and grabbed the knife from the drawer. I had ran back to where she was. I can’t have been longer then thirty seconds but by the time I got there all that was left was a pool of blood. An ambulance wailed down the street, taking her away from me. The knife had already cut into my wrist and that’s when they pulled me back, that kind faced policeman had robbed me of fulfilling my pact and my promise. I opened my eyes I was here now. I felt weak as the blood poured from my left arm onto the cold gravestone. I looked at her name and the faded flowers that her parents had painted onto the headstone. My eyes felt heavy but as my life flowed out onto her final resting place, the closest I could be to her, I could see her walking towards me. Her hair expertly tied in a tight bun bound with a red ribbon. The designer jacket I had bought her for Christmas. She reached out a hand and pulled me up. I took one last look back at myself, and followed her. How to cite A year had departed since that fatal day, Papers

Jose’s Authentic Mexican Restaurant free essay sample

Waiting?Case Study Jose’s Authentic Mexican Restaurant Section1: Introduction Jose’s Authentic Mexican Restaurant is identified by its authentic style in terms of food and environment. It is proud to offer considerate services, and high quality food which makes with qualified fresh materials. So the overall quality of this restaurant is creditable. However, it is not yet perfect. I would say Jose’s has a great potential to be successful after it fixed all its problems, since it has a large number of loyal customers, which can be observed from its prosperity on Friday and Saturday. The problems that Jose’s always have include imperfect location, material supply, and waiting period. Since no recent changes have been mentioned in the article, the problems have always been there. Section2: Problem Statement The problem Jose’s facing is a decrease in tips, from where managers can notice that customers are losing satisfaction and patience. We will write a custom essay sample on Jose’s Authentic Mexican Restaurant or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page In other words, patrons are no longer as satisfied as they did before. Section3: Key Factors/Issues First, the location of the restaurant, which is a mature business district, seems to be its advantage. However, limited off-street parking will restrain customers who are just passing by. Second, poor ingredients will affect not only the taste of dishes, it seems they will also irritate and frustrate the cook, and most importantly, extend the preparation time in this case. Third, waiting period, concerning both waiting time and waiting experience, are now the prior concerns for Jose’s performance. Section4: Decision Criteria/Measure of Effectiveness The decision criteria in this case would be the number of customers, average waiting time, and the amount of average tips. From these three measures, Jose’s managers can evaluate how good the restaurant does, and how customers react. Alternatives and Analysis Although there is actually nothing the manager can do about the restaurant’s location, he can still find valuable information in analyzing it. Since we already know that the restaurant is not a convenient spot for new customers to stop by, the manager should pay more attention to retain patrons by maintaining and improving dining experience. Currently, Jose’s superficial problem is that tips are decreasing. It is a dangerous signal, because the next stage will be a decreasing in patrons, which will hurt Jose’s business fundamentally. To retain loyal customers, the restaurant needs to further improve its overall quality. Jose’s needs to ensure that its material suppliers can always provide qualified ingredients on time wilted lettuce and tough meats are not acceptable. I would deem it as a micro supply chain management. Delicious food guarantees Jose’s profitability. Therefore, the failure of this process will make it suffer in terms of overall performance. The solution is obvious: press current supplier for qualified ingredients by applying a punishing plan, or shift to other suppliers who have decent reputation in the industry. When it comes to waiting period, first of all, the restaurant has no separate waiting area. This will definitely worsen waiting experience, especially during busy hours such as Friday and Saturday nights when waiting time could be 45 minutes. In addition, it is intolerable to let customers waiting outside the store for that long. On one hand, it is glad to know that customers are willing to stand there so long to get the foods in Jose’s; On the other hand, customers will remember the anxiety and even anger generated while they are waiting, and may never come back. Then, the article also mentions it does not take reservations. This action is wise when the restaurant is full, but not in usual days. Jose’s should take proper amount of reservations to increase its business. At last, the overly long waiting time may also due to the lack of waiters and cooks, since the owner of the restaurant is also busy helping food preparation sometimes. Mentioned in the article, it could take 20 minutes to prepare a meal during specific time period. To sum up, it takes various efforts to shorten waiting time and improve waiting experience. First, put several benches in and out of the store for those who are waiting, and offer waters for them. Second, make reservations available during common business days to lure more businesses. Third, hire several part-time waiters during busy hours, and another cook if necessary. Section6: Recommendation Visual observation is not a scientific way to find out existing problem. A well-organized customer survey is necessary to determine a business’s weakness. Jose’s survey proves that the problems displayed in previous section are true, so the solutions should work very well. Section7: Plan of Action Referring to the details of the solutions, Jose’s should put 4 benches in and out of the store, foldaway ones preferred. To serve its customers better, it needs 2 more waiters, probably part-time, to deliver water to waiting customers and work more efficient inside the restaurant. Another cook is in need to shorten 20 minutes cooking time during busy hours. Exhibits Pareto Chart of Survey Cause-and-Effect (Fishbone) Diagram