单选题
单选题 {{B}}Questions 23-26{{/B}}
单选题Which of the following is the author's major concern in this passage?
单选题Questions 11 to 18 are based on the following talk.
单选题
单选题Questions 11 to 15 are based on the following interview.
单选题Flats were almost unknown in Britain until the 1850s when they were developed, along with other industrial dwellings, for the laboring classes. These vast blocks were plainly a convenient means of easing social conscience by housing large numbers of the ever-present poor on compact city sites. During the 1880s, however, the idea of living in comfortable residential chambers caught on with the affluent upper and upper middle classes, and controversy as to the advantages and disadvantages of flat life was a topic of conversation around many a respectable dinner-table. In Paris and other major European cities, the custom whereby the better-off lived in apartments, or flats, was well established. Up to the late nineteenth century in England only bachelor barristers had established the tradition of living in rooms near the Law Court: any self-respecting head of household would insist upon a West End town house as his London home, the best that his means could provide.
The popularity of flats for the better-off seems to have developed for a number of reasons. First, perhaps, through the introduction of the railways, which had enabled a wide range of people to enjoy a holiday staying in a suite at one of the luxury hotels which had begun to spring up during the previous decade. Hence, no doubt, the fact that many of the early luxury flats were similar to hotel suites, even being provided with communal dining-rooms and central boilers for hot water and heating. Rents tended to be high to cover overheads, but savings were made possible by these communal amenities and by tenants being able to reduce the number of family servants.
On of the earliest substantial London developments of flats for the well-to-do was begun soon after Victoria Railway Station was opened in 1860, as the train service provided an efficient link with both the City and the South of England. Victoria Street, adjacent to both the Station and Westminster, had already been formed, and under the direction of the architect, Henry Ashton, was being lined with blocks of residential chambers in the Parisian manner. These flats were commodious indeed, offering between eight and fifteen rooms apiece, including appropriate domestic offices. The idea was an emphatic departure from the tradition of the London house and achieved immediate success.
Perhaps the most notable block in the vicinity was Queen Anne"s Mansions, partly designed by E. R. Robson in 1884 and recently demolished. For many years, this was London"s loftiest building and had strong claims to be the ugliest. The block was begun as a wild speculation, modeled on the American skyscraper, and was nearly 200 feet high. The cliff-like walls of dingy brick completely overshadowed the modest thoroughfare nearby. Although bleak outside, the mansion flats were palatial within, with sumptuously furnished communal entertaining and dining rooms. And lifts to the uppermost floors. The success of these tall blocks of flats could not have been achieved, of course, without the invention of the lift, or "ascending carriage" as it was called when first used in the Strand Law Courts in the 1870s.
单选题 At the tail end of the 19th century, Friedrich
Nietzsche suggested that natural history—which he saw as a war against fear and
superstition—ought to be narrated "in such a way that everyone who hears it is
irresistibly inspired to strive after spiritual and bodily health and vigour",
and he grumbled that artists had yet to discover the right language to do
this. "None the less," Nietzsche admitted, "the English have
taken admirable steps in the direction of that ideal ... the reason is that they
[natural history books] are written by their most distinguished scholars—whole,
complete and fulfilling natures." The English language
tradition of nature writing and narrating natural history is gloriously rich,
and although it may not make any bold claims to improving health and wellbeing,
it does a good job—for readers and the subjects of the writing. Where the
insights of field naturalists meet the legacy of poets such as Clare,
Wordsworth, Hughes and Heaney, there emerges a language as vivid as any cultural
achievement. That this language is still alive and kicking and
read every day in a newspaper is astounding. So to hold a century's worth of
country diaries is, for an interloper like me, both an inspiring and humbling
experience. But is this the best way of representing nature, or is it a cultural
default? Will the next century of writers want to shake loose from this
tradition? What happens next? Over the years, nature writers
and country diarists have developed an increasingly sophisticated ecological
literacy of the world around them through the naming of things and an
understanding of the relationships between them. They find ways of linking
simple observations to bigger issues by remaining in the present, the
particular. For writers of my generation, a nostalgia for lost wildlife and
habitats and the business of bearing witness to a war of attrition in the
countryside colours what we're about. The anxieties of future generations may
not be the same. Articulating the "wild" as a qualitative
character of nature and context for the more quantitative notion of biodiversity
will, I believe, become a more dynamic cultural project. The re-wilding of lands
and seas, coupled with a re-wilding of experience and language, offers fertile
ground for writers. A response to the anxieties springing from climate change,
and a general fear of nature answering our continued environmental injustices
with violence, will need a reassessment of our feelings for the nature we
like—cultural landscapes, continuity, native species—as well as the nature we
don't like—rising seas, droughts, "invasive" species. Whether
future writers take their sensibilities for a walk and, like a pack of wayward
dogs unleashed, let them loose in hills and woods to sniff out some fugitive
truth hiding in the undergrowth, or choose to honestly recount the
this-is-where-I-am, this-is-what-I-see approach, they will be hitched to the
values implicit in the language they use. They should challenge these.
Perhaps they will see our natural history as a contributor to the
commodification of nature and the obsessive managerialism of our times. Perhaps
they will see our romanticism as a blanket thrown over the traumatised victim of
the countryside. But maybe they will follow threads we found in the writings of
others and find their own way to wonder.
单选题
单选题
单选题American no longer expect public figures, whether in speech or in writing, to command the English language with skill and gift. Nor do they aspire to such command themselves. In his latest book, Doing Our Own Thing. The Degradation of language and Music and why we should like, care, John McWhorter, a linguist and controversialist of mixed liberal and conservative views, sees the triumph of 1960s counter-culture as responsible for the decline of formal English.
But the cult of the authentic and the personal, "doing our own thing", has spelt the death of formal speech, writing, poetry and music. While even the modestly educated sought an elevated tone when they put pen to paper before the 1960s, even the most well regarded writing since then has sought to capture spoken English on the page. Equally, in poetry, the highly personal, performative genre is the only form that could claim real liveliness. In both oral and written English, talking is triumphing over speaking, spontaneity over craft.
Illustrated with an entertaining array of examples from both high and low culture, the trend that Mr. McWhorter documents is unmistakable. But it is less clear, to take the question of his subtitle, why we should, like care. As a linguist, he acknowledges that all varieties of human language, including non-standard ones like Black English, can be powerfully expressive-there exists no language or dialect in the world that cannot convey complex ideas. He is not arguing, as many do, that we can no longer think straight because we do not talk proper.
Russians have a deep love for their own language and carry large chunks of memorized poetry in their heads, while Italian politicians tend to elaborate speech that would seem old-fashioned to most English-speakers. Mr. McWhorter acknowledges that formal language is not strictly necessary, and proposes no radical education reforms-he is really grieving over the loss of something beautiful more than useful. We now take our English "on paper plates instead of china". A shame, perhaps, but probably an inevitable one.
单选题
Questions
21-25 Apple is hardly alone in the high-tech industry
when it comes to duff gadgets and unhelpful call centers, but in other respects
it is highly unusual. In particular, it inspires an almost religious fervor
among its customers. That is no doubt helped by the fact that its corporate
biography is so closely bound up with the mercurial Mr. Jobs, a rare showman in
his industry. Yet for all its flaws and quirks, Apple has at least four
important wider lessons to teach other companies. The first is
that innovation can come from without as well as within. Apple is widely assumed
to be an innovator in the tradition of Thomas Edison or Bell Laboratories,
locking its engineers away to cook up new ideas and basing products on their
moments of inspiration. In fact, its real skill lies in stitching together its
own ideas with technologies from outside and then wrapping the results in
elegant software and stylish design. The idea for the iPod, for example, was
originally dreamt up by a consultant whom Apple hired to run the project. It was
assembled by combining off-the-shelf parts with in-house ingredients such as its
distinctive, easily used system of controls. And it was designed to work closely
with Apple's iTunes jukebox software, which was also bought in and then
overhauled and improved. Apple is, in short, an orchestrator and
integrator of technologies, unafraid to bring in ideas from outside but always
adding its own twists. This approach, known as "network
innovation", is not limited to electronics. It has also been embraced by
companies such as Procter ＆ Gamble, BT and several drugs giants, all of which
have realized the power of admitting that not all good ideas start at home.
Making network innovation work involves cultivating contacts with start-ups and
academic researchers, constantly scouting for new ideas and ensuring that
engineers do not fall prey to "not invented here" syndrome, which always values
in-house ideas over those from outside. Second, Apple
illustrates the importance of designing new products around the needs of the
user, not the demands of the technology. Too many technology firms think that
clever innards are enough to sell their products, resulting in gizmos designed
by engineers for engineers. Apple has consistently combined clever technology
with simplicity and ease of use. The iPod was not the first digital-music
player, but it was the first to make transferring and organizing music, and
buying it online, easy enough for almost anyone to have a go. Similarly, the
iPhone is not the first mobile phone to incorporate a music-player, web
browser or e-mail software. But most existing "smartphones" require you to
be pretty smart to use them. Apple is not alone in its pursuit
of simplicity. Philips, a Dutch electronics giant, is trying a similar approach.
Niklas Zennstrom and Janus Friis, perhaps the most Jobsian of Europe's geeks,
took an existing but fiddly technology, internet telephony, to a mass audience
by making it simple, with Skype; they hope to do the same for internet
television. But too few technology firms see "ease of use" as an end in
itself.
单选题
Question
16-20 The founders of the Republic viewed their
revolution primarily in political rather than economic or social terms. And they
talked about education as essential to the public good--a goal that took
precedence over knowledge as occupational training or as a means to
self-fulfillment or self- improvement. Over and over again the Revolutionary
generation, both liberal and conservative in outlook, asserted its conviction
that the welfare of the Republic rested upon an educated citizenry and that
schools, especially free public schools, would be the best means of educating
the citizenry in civic values and the obligations required of everyone in a
democratic republican society. All agreed that the principal ingredients of a
civic education were literacy and the inculcation of patriotic and moral
virtues, some others adding the study of history and the study of principles of
the republican government itself. The founders, as was the case
of almost all their successors, were long on exhortation and rhetoric regarding
the value of civic education, but they left it to the textbook writers to
distill the essence of those values for school children. Texts in American
history and government appeared as early as in the 1790s. The textbook writers
turned out to be very largely of conservative persuasion, more likely Federalist
in outlook than Jeffersonian, and almost universally agreed that political
virtue must rest upon moral and religious precepts. Since most textbook writers
were New Englander, this meant that the texts were infused with Protestant and,
above all, Puritan outlooks. In the first half of the Republic,
civic education in the schools emphasized the inculcation of civic values and
made little attempt to develop participatory political skills. That was a task
left to incipient political parties, town meetings, churches and the coffee or
ale houses where men gathered for conversation. Additionally as a reading
of certain Federalist papers of the period would demonstrate, the press probably
did more to disseminate realistic as well as partisan knowledge of government
than the schools. The goal of education, however, was to achieve a higher form
of unum (one out of many used on the Great Seal of the U. S. and on several U.
S. coins) for the new Republic. In the middle half of the nineteenth century,
the political values taught in the public and private schools did not change
substantially from those celebrated in the first fifty years of the Republic. In
the textbooks of the day their rosy hues if anything became golden. To the
resplendent values of liberty, equality, and a benevolent Christian morality
were now added the middle-class virtues--especially of New England--of hard
work, honesty and integrity, the rewards of individual effort, and obedience to
parents and legitimate authority. But of all the political values taught in
school, patriotism was preeminent; and whenever teachers explained to school
children why they should love their country above all else, the idea of liberty
assumed pride of place.
单选题Questions 16～20
The law firm Patrick worked for before he died filed for bankruptcy protection a year after his funeral. After his death, the firm"s letterhead properly included him- Patrick S. Lanigan, 1954～1992. He was listed up in the right-hand corner, just above the paralegals. Then the rumors got started and wouldn"t stop. Before long, everyone believed he had taken the money and disappeared. After three months, no one on the Gulf Coast believed that he was dead. His name came off the letterhead as the debts piled up.
The remaining partners in the law firm were still together, attached unwillingly at the hip by the bondage of mortgages and the bank notes, back when they were rolling and on the verge of serious wealth. They had been joint defendants in several unwinnable lawsuits; thus the bankruptcy. Since Patrick"s departure, they had tried every possible way to divorce one another, but nothing would work. Two were raging alcoholics who drank at the office behind locked doors, but never together. The other two were in recovery, still teetering on the brink of sobriety.
He took their money. Their millions money. They had already spent long before it arrived, as only lawyers can do, money for their richly renovated office building in downtown Biloxi, money for new homes, yachts, condos in the Caribbean. The money was on the way, approved, the papers signed, orders entered; they could see it, almost touch it when their dead partner—Patrick—snatched it at the last possible second.
He was dead. They buried him on February 11, 1992. They had consoled the widow and put his rotten name on their handsome letterhead. Yet six weeks later, he somehow stole their money.
So Bogan took his share of the blame. At forty-nine, he was the oldest of the four, and, at the moment, the most stable. He was also responsible for hiring Patrick nine years earlier, and they had brawled over who was to blame. Charles Bogan, the firm"s senior partner and its iron hand, had insisted the money be wired from its source into a new account offshore, and this made sense after some discussion. It was ninety million bucks, a third of which the firm would keep, and it would be impossible to hide that kind of money in Biloxi, population fifty thousand. Someone at the bank would talk. Soon everyone would know. All four vowed secrecy, even as they made plans to display as much of their new wealth as possible. There had even been talk of a firm jet, a six-seater, and for this he had received no small amount of grief.
Doug Vitrano, the litigator, had made the fateful decision to recommend Patrick as the fifth partner. The other three had agreed, and when Patrick Lanigan was added to the firm name, he had access to virtually every file in the office—Bogan, Rapley, Vitrano, Havarac, and Lanigan, Attorneys and Counselors-at-Law. A large ad in the yellow pages claimed "Specialists in Offshore Injuries." Specialists or not, like most firms they would take almost anything if the fees were lucrative. Lots of secretaries and paralegals, big overhead, and the strongest political connections on the Coast, they were all in their mid-to-late forties. Havarac had been raised by his father on a shrimp boat. His hands were still proudly calloused, and he dreamed of choking Patrick until his neck snapped. Rapley was severely depressed and seldom left his home, where he wrote briefs in a dark office in the attic.
单选题Questions 11～15
Of all the troubles that US troops may face when they come home, getting their old jobs back should not be one. Uncle Sam supposedly took care of that with a law saying civilians turned soldiers cannot be fired for serving their country—or denied the right to sue in federal court.
That is why returning veterans should hear the story of Michael Garrett. Thirteen years ago, Captain Garrett of the US Marine Corps traded his camouflage utility uniform for the business-casual dress of a Circuit City service manager. The electronics company was booming, and Garrett could still get his dose of a soldier"s life as a member of the Marine Reserve. For almost a decade, Garrett ascended the company"s ranks. But in October 2002, with war in Iraq near certain, his bosses asked whether he would go on active duty, according to Garrett. He said it was possible, and within weeks, the sniping began, his department took too long with repairs, one boss said, and its work was sometimes shoddy. Then, on March 17—two days before the US invaded Iraq—Garrett got fired.
The company declined to comment, saying only that it "supported the mission and values of the United States Armed Forces". But Garrett said the timing was no coincidence, he lost his job because of his military status. If true, that would violate a 1994 federal law. So Garrett sued Circuit City, only to see it spring yet another surprise.
Garrett, the company said, had to take his case to private arbitration, a quasi-legal process offering sharply limited rights. Garrett acknowledged that his employment contract required arbitration, but he argued that the 1994 Act overrode the contract. A federal judge in Dallas agreed in 2004, just before Garrett was activated for a 10-month tour in the Horn of Africa. Last year, though, the US Court of Appeals in New Orleans reversed that decision, becoming the first court to rule that a contract crafted to help employers trump the law designed to protect the rights of veterans. "That just blows me away," says Garrett, whose case heads for arbitration.
No one knows how many veterans are in a similar bind, but the numbers are substantial—and will grow as more troops return home. Complaints under the 1994 Act have increased steadily, to more than 1,500 in 2006 from about 800 in 2001. Some have become lawsuits, and employers may have tried to steer many toward arbitration, since about one-fifth of US companies require the procedure for workplace disputes. In defense of employers, it"s not easy reserving jobs for workers called to active duty. But Congress judged that the cost was worth the peace of mind of citizen soldiers, willing to sacrifice their time and perhaps lives to the military. Like predecessor statutes dating from 1940, the 1994 Act"s broad protections rest on the promise of a federal jury trial—with rights to evidence, a fair hearing and an appeal—if an employer fails to comply.
Companies like Circuit City say binding arbitration is faster and cheaper than going to court, though studies have cast doubt on both claims. What really bugs employees are the rights they lose in arbitration—and the apparent bias of arbitrators. There are strict limits on gathering evidence for arbitration hearings, and it is virtually impossible to appeal them. Arbitrators don"t necessarily have to follow the law, and studies suggest they favor companies that regularly hire them. Still, the courts generally uphold arbitration clauses unless a law makes absolutely clear that the employee can go to court, arbitration be damned. That pretty much describes the 1994 Act, as three federal courts have ruled.
But the magic of law is that even federal judges can give it surprising twists, as the court of appeals judges did in Garrett"s case. Sure, they explained, the Act says the rights it grants can"t be limited. But the judges said that referred to "substantive rights" like the guarantee of a job. Whether such rights are enforced in court or arbitration, the judges thought, is just a matter of process. It"s hard to believe, though, that Congress thought a second-class justice system like arbitration was just as good as the federal courts for veterans. As Bob Goodman, Garrett"s lawyer, says, "Taking away the Seventh Amendment right to a jury trial is no way to treat the troops." Or to welcome them home.
单选题What is the role of human resources as the world goes through turmoil, and what is its future as so many industries face extreme change?
Effendi Ibnoe, Bali, Indonesia
Talk about timing. Your question arrived in our in-box the same day that we received a note from an acquaintance who had just been let go from his job in publishing, certainly one of the industries that is facing, as you put it, "extreme change". He described his layoff as a practically Orwellian experience in which he was ushered into a conference room to meet with an outplacement consultant who, after dispensing with logistics, informed him that she would call him at home that evening to make sure everything was all right.
"I assured her I had friends and loved ones and a dog," he wrote, "and since my relationship with her could be measured in terms of seconds, they could take care of that end of things." "Memo to HR: Instead of saddling dismissed employees with solicitous outplacement reps," he noted wryly, "put them in a room with some crockery for a few therapeutic minutes of smashing things against a wall."
While we enjoy our friend"s sense of humor, we"d suggest a different memo to HR. "Layoffs are your moment of truth," it would say, "when your company must show departing employees the same kind of attentiveness and dignity that was showered upon them when they entered. Layoffs are when HR proves its mettle and its worth, demonstrating whether a company really cares about its people."
Look, we"ve written before about HR and the game-changing role we believe it can—and should—play as the engine of an organization"s hiring, appraisal, and development processes. We"ve asserted that too many companies relegate HR to the mundane busy-work of newsletters, picnics, and benefits, and we"ve made the case that every CEO should elevate his head of HR to the same stature as the CFO. But if there was ever a time to underscore the importance of HR, it has arrived. And, sadly, if there was ever a time to see how few companies get HR right, it has arrived, too, as our acquaintance"s experience shows.
So, to your question: What is HR"s correct role now—especially in terms of layoffs?
First, HR has to make sure people are let go by their managers, not strangers. Being fired is dehumanizing in any event, but to get the news from a "hired gun" only makes matters worse. That"s why HR must ensure that managers accept their duty, which is to be in on the one conversation at work that must be personal. Pink slips should be delivered face-to-face, eyeball-to-eyeball.
Second, HR"s role is to serve as the company"s arbiter of equity. Nothing raises hackles more during a layoff than the sense that some people—namely the loudmouths and the litigious—are getting better deals than others. HR can mitigate that dynamic by making sure across units and divisions that severance arrangements, if they exist, are appropriate and evenhanded. You simply don"t want people to leave feeling as if they got you-know-what. They need to walk out saying: "At least I know I was treated fairly."
Finally, HR"s role is to absorb pain. In the hours and days after being let go, people need to vent, and it is HR"s job to be completely available to console. At some point, an outplacement consultant can come into the mix to assist with a transition, but HR can never let "the departed" feel as if they"ve been sent to a leper colony. Someone connected to each let-go employee—either a colleague or HR staffer—should check in regularly. And not just to ask, "Is everything O.K.?" but to listen to the answer with an open heart, and when appropriate, offer to serve as a reference to prospective employers.
Three years ago, we wrote a column called, "So Many CEOs Get This Wrong", and while many letters supported our stance that too many companies undervalue HR, a significant minority pooh-poohed HR as irrelevant to the "real work" of business. Given the state of things, we wonder how those same HR-minimalists feel now. If their company is in crisis—or their own career—perhaps at last they"ve seen the light. HR matters enormously in good times. It defines you in the bad.
单选题Questions 23—26
单选题 Questions 23～26
单选题Questions 1 to 5 are based on the following conversation.
单选题