bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
Ethical and Legal Aspects of AIDS Psychiatry
Authors: Cohen Mary Ann , Batista Sharon M.
Published: November 2020

From confidentiality, contact notification, and disclosure to decisional capacity, advance directives, and end-of-life care, AIDS presents special bioethical challenges to caregivers. Stigma, fear of rejection, and discrimination play significant roles in the bioethical aspects of the care of persons with HIV and AIDS. As a consequence, caregivers are often faced with bioethical dilemmas and conflicts. While many persons with HIV and AIDS are comfortable with disclosure to partners and family members, some persons with HIV refuse to disclose their serostatus even to sexual partners. Many persons with HIV and AIDS are able, especially with support, to come to safer and healthier decisions about disclosure and about their health and medical care. In this chapter, we will explore these dilemmas and provide suggestions on how to deal with them. Strategies for dealing with ethical dilemmas, determining decisional capacity, addressing end-of-life issues, and maintaining confidentiality in the care of persons with HIV and AIDS are also presented. To begin a discussion of ethics as applied to clinical care, it is important to define the terms used in this context. The definitions of the terms used in this chapter are based not only on formal definitions as published in bioethics texts and articles but also their use in common medical practice. Table 13.1 provides definitions of some of the bioethics terms that are relevant to this discussion. Within the doctor–patient relationship, physicians are expected to understand and relate to their patients as their own primary decision-makers. Patients are presumed to be autonomous and to have decisional capacity. However, at times, decisional capacity can be called into question, such as when a medical condition impairs the patient’s capacity to understand the illness or results in impaired judgment. Since autonomy is such a protected right, multiple criteria must be fulfilled in order to substitute another person’s judgment for that of the patient in cases where the patient is unable to make an appropriate decision for him- or herself. This assessment is called an assessment for capacity and is specific for each decision—a separate assessment must be performed for each decision to be made if the patient’s decision-making ability is under question.
Worlds Collide at Love’s Canal
Authors: Newman Richard S.
Published: November 2020

In 1938, Hooker Electrochemical confronted a future without its founder when Elon died in a tragic automobile accident. The longtime patriarch was just 68 years old. Hosannas to his leadership piled up in a moving tribute album, which was quickly published as a special edition of the company newsletter, “Hooker Gas.” “Engineer, Industrialist, Patriot, Public Servant, Author, Humanitarian”: Elon Huntington Hooker was all of these things, the tribute declared, and would be sorely missed. Yet while Elon’s passing hit family and friends hard, it did not slow the firm’s extraordinary growth. Indeed, over the next thirty years, Hooker Chemical (as it soon became known) grew at an even more impressive rate than during Elon’s time. By midcentury, the company was a global leader in the production of an astonishing array of chemicals beyond bleaching powder and caustic soda—degreasers, rubbers, explosives, defoliants, plastics, and much more. One measure of its far-reaching reputation came in the late 1940s, when Hooker executive Bjarne Klaussen traveled from Niagara Falls to the South Pacific to watch a new round of atomic bomb tests at Bikini Atoll. Cleared of its native inhabitants, the tiny island served as Ground Zero for a weapon far more powerful than the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the close of World War II. Klaussen was part of a small delegation from American corporations and universities that had made “special contributions” to the nation’s atomic development. “Hooker played an important role in the Manhattan Project,” the company historian bragged just a few years later (without providing further details, though they probably revolved around chemical igniters and explosives). The company would remain a key player on the Cold War chemical front for years to come. Hooker’s explosive growth during the 1940s and 1950s had a palpable impact on the Love Canal landscape too. For booming production overwhelmed the firm’s on-site disposal capacity. Searching for new ways to deal with this growing problem, Hooker resorted to “inground disposal” at sites beyond the Niagara plant.
Growing Protest at Love Canal
Authors: Newman Richard S.
Published: November 2020

As the seasons turned and a new year passed, Love Canal remained a whirlwind of remediation activity. “A plan is being set in motion now to implement technical procedures designed to meet the seemingly impossible job of detoxifying the Canal area,” EPA administrator Eckardt C. Beck declared in January 1979. Though a cold Western New York winter had set in, Beck explained that everything remained on track. “The plan calls for a trench system to drain chemicals from the Canal. It is a difficult procedure, and we are keeping our fingers crossed that it will yield some degree of success.” Beck reiterated that securing Love Canal’s poisons, rather than evacuating all area residents, remained the key to the neighborhood’s future. While conceding that no “one has paid more dearly already than the residents,” Beck commented that the Love Canal “tragedy” was well on its way to a successful resolution. Beck was wrong. In February, New York declared homes beyond the inner ring potential health hazards to pregnant women and children under age 2. Health officials recommended temporary evacuation but no more home buyouts. While roughly two dozen families exited, remaining residents exploded. If the broader neighborhood was deemed unsafe, they clamored, then everyone should be evacuated. The LCHA, several of whose members had been arrested in December for blocking remediation vehicles, intensified its protests but to no avail. Most Love Canal residents remained in a toxic environment. As one person put it dimly, the neighborhood itself had become a chemical “prison.” A local punk band called the Vores captured the area’s dark mood. “Contaminated. We’re all contaminated. Don’t get near us, or you’ll turn blue,” the band growled in a tune entitled simply “The Love Canal.” “Contaminated. We’re all contaminated. Don’t let us move in or you’ll get it too.” The troubling tenor of the times notwithstanding, Love Canal residents refused to give up.
Peace
Authors: van Santen Rutger , Khoe Djan , Vermeer Bram
Published: November 2020

A million people die every year as a result of war and terrorism. According to these statistics, armed conflict will cost another 20 million lives in the coming two decades. Is there anything we can do to stop that from happening? The origin of war is one of the oldest questions of humanity. Every major religion sets rules that limit armed conflicts. Yet war seems to be a destructive power that is present throughout history. Is it within our power to prevent war and terrorism? British meteorologist Lewis Fry Richardson was one of the first to apply statistical analysis to warfare. Richardson was a Quaker whose beliefs prevented him from serving in combat, so he drove an ambulance during World War I instead. It was then that he first began to collect data on the death toll attributable to armed conflict. Richardson went on to study military confrontations from 1820 to 1945, ranging from minor local skirmishes to all-out world wars. As we might expect, he found that the deadlier the conflict, the less frequent its occurrence. What was not expected, however, was his observation that the frequency of wars follows a similar kind of scaling law as earthquakes and avalanches. There are roughly fifteen conflicts each century costing more than a million lives. Those with a death toll above 100,000 occur 100 times, those with 10,000 or more deaths 800 times, and so on. A tenfold increase in lethality thus corresponds with an eightfold decline in frequency. This came as a great surprise because it suggests that wars don’t occur randomly. The fixed proportion of smaller and bigger conflicts shows that they are interrelated and that there is a common set of forces driving a dispute toward war. This is a profoundly worrying conclusion for historians, who customarily ascribe each new outbreak of violence to a set of unique contingencies. Yet this is only part of the story. Scaling law statistics suggest that there is something universal shared by all wars—something that may be inherent to human society.
Clinical Judgment and the Influence of Screening on Decision Making
Authors: Garb Howard N.
Published: November 2020

How do clinicians arrive at diagnostic decisions? In most cases the decision is not made following formal criteria, but by intuition. In addition, routine interviews are often narrow and the feedback gleaned from patients is inadequate. Yet it is not clear if screening helps or hinders clinical judgment. It might be that only clinicians who have low confidence and interviewing and diagnostic skills are open to the use of and actually helped by diagnostic tools. To provide a theoretical framework for understanding why it is difficult for physicians to detect depression in primary care settings, a broad array of research in the mental health fields can be described. For example, more than 1,000 studies have been conducted on clinical judgment in the area of mental health practice, and the results from these studies can be used to illuminate the challenges physicians face in judging whether a patient is clinically depressed and can benefit from treatment. In this chapter, results on clinical judgment will be described. A second topic will also be briefly discussed. Results from research on clinical judgment would seem to indicate that screening should be of value. Yet, as noted in Chapter 7, stand-alone screening programs have added little or nothing to outcomes. Reasons for this unexpected result will be explored. Three topics will be discussed: (1) narrowness of interviews, (2) nature of patient feedback, and (3) the cognitive processes of clinicians. Depression goes undetected because in many cases physicians do not ask patients if they have symptoms of a depressive mood disorder.3 To place this in context, it can be noted that mental health professionals also often do not ask patients about important symptoms and behaviors. Failure to inquire about depression in primary care settings can be viewed in the broader context of failure to inquire about important symptoms and events in mental health settings. Research on clinical judgment has demonstrated that lack of comprehensiveness is often a problem for interviews made in clinical practice. For example, in one study,4 mental health professionals saw patients in routine clinical practice, and afterwards research investigators conducted semi-structured interviews with the patients. Remarkably, the mental health professionals had evaluated only about 50% of the symptoms that were recorded using the semi-structured interviews.
Screening for Depression in Medical Settings: The Case Against Specific Scales
Authors: Babaei Fariba , Mitchell Alex J.
Published: November 2020

The prevailing view for detecting mood disorders in the presence of physical disease is to exclude somatic symptoms that might contaminate a diagnosis (See Parker and Hyatt, Chapter 10 for a presentation of this point of view). This chapter will examine whether this approach is beneficial, with a view to deciding whether new depression scales for each physical disorder (each excluding somatic symptoms) are required. There is a bidirectional relationship between depression and physical illness. New evidence suggests that among depressed individuals presenting in primary care, most have at least one comorbid psychiatric condition and at least one physical condition. At least 75% of elderly depressed patients in primary care also have a known physical illness, and in 30–50% this is of high severity. In one study only 10% of elderly depressed patients in primary care had pure depression with no comorbidity. Thus, comorbid depression should be considered ‘‘normal’’ in primary care. Some evidence suggests that those with comorbidity are less likely to have depression treatment initiated by their primary care practitioner. They are also less likely to recover from depression.9 Specific conditions such as speech disorders, arthritis, and dermatologic problems have been linked with worse outcomes of depression. The exact relationship of depression and comorbidities is complex. In one of the largest studies, Egede (2007) examined data from 30,801 adults captured in the 1999 Household National Health Interview Survey. The community prevalence of major depression was 4.7% in those without chronic medical illness but 7.7%, 9.8%, and 12% in those with one, two, or three or more chronic disorders, respectively (Fig. 11.1). Major depression was associated with significant increases in utilization, lost productivity, and functional disability. Patients with chronic medical illness and comorbid depression (and anxiety) also have significantly higher numbers of medical symptoms, even controlling for severity of disease. Around one in four people in the general population have functional disability, but in those with depression and medical comorbidity, at least three out of four have functional limitations.
Hypotony
Authors: Villarrubia Héctor J. , Bell Nicholas P.
Published: November 2020

The overall goal of glaucoma filtering surgery is to lower the intraocular pressure (IOP) to a level where further optic nerve damage is prevented. There is a narrow therapeutic index for IOP that results in a delicate equilibrium between slowing and preventing progression of glaucoma while maintaining good visual function. Reaching that balance with glaucoma filtering surgery can be challenging, even in the best of hands performing uncomplicated surgery. In some patients the IOP becomes so low after trabeculectomy that damage to other ocular structures occurs, leading to impaired visual function. This condition is known as ocular hypotony and generally occurs at IOPs less than 6 mm Hg; however, we have seen cases of clinical hypotony with IOP as high as 12 mm Hg. The use of antifibrotics during trabeculectomy has greatly increased the success of trabeculectomy, but has also increased the risk of hypotony. Most glaucoma specialists refer to early postoperative hypotony as that which occurs within a period of 2 months or less after surgery regardless of its mechanism. Early postoperative hypotony occurs via 2 mechanisms: 1) decreased aqueous production , due to inflammation, ciliochoroidal or retinal detachment, or use of aqueous suppressants; or 2) excessive aqueous outflow , due to overfiltration, bleb leak, or a cyclodialysis cleft. Fortunately, most cases of early postoperative hypotony do not last longer than a few weeks and improve with conservative management. Although it is impossible to predict preoperatively which patient will develop early postoperative hypotony, preventative measures can be effective. Preventing and managing postoperative hypotony depends heavily upon operative and postoperative technique. Care should be taken in preoperative planning and intraoperative execution to avoid overfiltration and punctures of the conjunctival bleb that may turn into leaks. The use of nontoothed conjunctival forceps is essential. If the IOP remains too low for too long, the eye may develop hypotony maculopathy (see Chapter 22), a complication in which the macula develops choroidal folds due to chronically low IOP.
Corneal Complications
Authors: Springs Clark L.
Published: November 2020

The desired effects of antifibrotic agents 5-fluorouracil (5-FU) and mitomycin-C (MMC) in glaucoma filtration surgery result from their ability to limit postoperative scarring by inhibiting vascular proliferation and fibroblastic transformation. However, these same mechanisms of action can have deleterious effects on surrounding normal tissues such as the cornea. Knowing how to use these agents is important in preventing antifibrotic-related complications. 5-FU is an inhibitor of DNA synthesis, specifically thymidylate synthetase, and blocks thymidine from being incorporated into DNA. In addition to affecting DNA synthesis, 5-FU also may be incorporated into RNA, interfering with RNA synthesis and therefore protein synthesis. Thus, it is more toxic to actively proliferating cells. In glaucoma filtration surgery, 5-FU is generally administered intraoperatively (50 mg/mL for 5 minutes). 5-FU can also be administered as a subconjunctival injection postoperatively with a dosage of 5.0–7.5 mg in 0.1–0.15 mL solution directly from the 50 mg/mL bottle. A series of injections may be given over several weeks and titrated based on clinical response. In addition to glaucoma filtration surgery, 5-FU has also been used for other ophthalmic applications such as pterygium surgery, lacrimal surgery, and during vitrectomy to prevent proliferative vitreoretinopathy. MMC is an alkylating agent that crosslinks DNA. It requires enzymatic activation via cytochrome p450 prior to exerting its inhibitory effects on DNA synthesis. MMC activity is independent of cell cycle and affects both actively replicating and nonreplicating cells. However, variations in enzymatic activity among individuals may contribute to the diﬀerences in eﬃcacy, as well as toxicity of MMC. In glaucoma ﬁltration surgery, MMC is typically administered as a single intraoperative application. It is applied after dissection of the conjunctival ﬂap and prior to the formation of the scleral ﬂap. Most surgeons use a dose of 0.1–0.5 mg/mL with an exposure time of 1–5 minutes depending upon the clinical indication. MMC use has also been well established for refractive surgery to prevent corneal haze after photorefractive keratectomy in patients at high risk of developing corneal haze, pterygium surgery, and corneal intraepithelial neoplasia. For more information on 5-FU and MMC in glaucoma surgery, see Chapter 3.
The Fluorine Group
Authors: Schweitzer George K. , Pesterfield Lester L.
Published: November 2020

The Fluorine Group of the Periodic Table, whose elements are known as halogens (Greek halos and genes, meaning salt-forming), consists of fluorine F, chlorine Cl, bromine Br, iodine I, and astatine At. The outer electron structure ns2np5 characterizes all five of the elements, with n representing principal quantum numbers 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6, respectively. The ns2np5 indicates that oxidation number possibilities are −I, I, III, V, and VII with F showing only −I (except for the unstable HOF). The bonding in the oxidation state of −I is sometimes ionic and sometimes covalent, while that in the other states is covalent. Fluorine is the most electronegative element in the Periodic Table, and as one descends the group, the electronegativities decrease. Fluorine stands out as considerably different from the other elements, there being numerous discontinuities in properties between it and Cl. Astatine also differs from the other elements in that all its isotopes are radioactive, the longlived At-210 having a half life of 8.1 days. Covalent radii in pm are as follows: F(71), Cl(99), Br(114), I(133), and At (147). Ionic radii in pm are as: F−(119), Cl−(167), Br−(182), and I−(206). a. E–pH diagram. Figure 11.1 depicts the E–pH diagram for F with the soluble species (except H+) at 10−1.0 M. The diagram is valid only in the absence of substances with which F forms soluble complexes or insoluble compounds. The species which have been considered are F2, OF2, F−, HF, and HF2−. This last species is not very stable and will appear on the diagram only at higher F− concentrations. It shows up in between HF and F−. The E–pH diagram emphasizes the very strong oxidizing power of F2 and indicates that it will easily attack HOH to produce OF2. The species oxygen fluoride OF2 is also unstable but persists in solution longer than F2.
The V–Cr–Mn Group
Authors: Schweitzer George K. , Pesterfield Lester L.
Published: November 2020

The three elements to be treated in this chapter (V, Cr, Mn) are the third, fourth, and fifth members of the first transition series. The first two members (Sc, Ti) have been treated in previous chapters (Chapters 12 and 13). The ten elements of this first transition series (Sc through Zn) are characterized by electron activity in the 3d–4s levels. All elements in the 3d transition series are metals, and many of their compounds tend to be colored as a result of unpaired electrons. Most of the elements have a strong tendency to form complex ions due to participation of the d electrons in bonding. Since both the 4s and the 3d electrons are active, most of the elements show a considerable variety of oxidation states (Sc and Zn being exceptions). For the first five (Sc through Mn), the maximum oxidation number is the total number of electrons in the 4s and 3d levels. Complexing is often so strong that the most stable oxidation state for simple compounds may differ from that for complex compounds. a. E–pH diagram. The E–pH diagram in Figure 14.1 shows V in oxidation states of 0, II, III, IV, and V. This diagram, which involves vanadium at 10−3.0 M is somewhat oversimplified in that there are some isopolyanions present in the 4–6 pH regions. The prevalence of isopolyanions increases as the V concentration increases. This is illustrated in Figure 14.2 which has V at 10−1.0 M. Further, the cations V+2, V+3, VO+2, and VO2+ are probably aquated to satisfy a coordination number of six, and the V(OH)3 may actually be hydrated V2O3. Note that the soluble solution chemistries of V(IV) and V(V) are dominated by the VO+2 and VO2+ complex ions. Three of these cations (III, IV, V) are subject to hydrolysis, the processes setting in around pH values of just under 3, 3, and 2. The E–pH diagram indicates that elemental V is very active, but a thin coat of oxide protects it from all except strong action.
Poverty and Plunder
Authors: Collier Paul
Published: November 2020

The bottom billion has missed out on global prosperity. The current reality for these people is poverty; the issue is whether this will also be the fate of their children. The path that the rest of the world took to lift itself out of poverty—industrialization—is proving much more difficult for these latecomers. Industry has globalized, and China’s combination of huge scale with low wages makes it hyper-competitive when pitched against new entrants. Farming offers them little promise. In Africa, home to most of the bottom billion, agricultural productivity has already fallen far behind international standards. Global warming is likely to widen the gulf, making Africa even hotter and drier, while warming the vast tracts of North America and Eurasia that are currently too cold for cultivation. Nor is aid likely to rescue them; it is under increasing attack, sometimes for good reason, and is being squeezed by the need to rein in fiscal deficits. The countries of the bottom billion have one lifeline: nature. Nature has the potential to lift most of them to prosperity. But nature does not come on a platter. Mankind was not born into an Eden, but into a harsh environment in which we struggled to survive even in tiny numbers. Gradually the natural world has become more valuable to mankind as technology has progressed. Technology turns nature into an asset. However, technology alone merely gives those assets the potential to be valuable to society. Natural assets have no natural owners, and as they become valuable they can trigger a struggle for possession in which their value is dissipated in the costs of struggle. Prehistory was violent; some anthropologists estimate that around 40 percent of deaths were due to fighting. As technical discoveries conferred value on rare natural phenomena such as flint, disputed ownership was inevitable. Basic economics tells us that the value of the effort put into getting possession of natural assets would escalate until it was approximately equal to the value of the assets to be acquired.
Selling the Family Silver
Authors: Collier Paul
Published: November 2020

Having waded through the “upstream issues”—getting revenue into a country’s treasury—it is now time for the “downstream issues”—using the money. This chapter is about a key choice: whether money generated from depleting natural assets should benefit the present or the future. To benefit the present the money should be spent on consumption. To benefit the future it should be saved: consumption should be deferred and revenue from assets used instead to acquire other assets which preserve their value. Economics is a crudely reductionist science and characterizes this choice as very stark. In reality most people get some pleasure from saving, you do not need to have the perverted values of a miser to take some pleasure now in the prospect of being able to consume something in the future. But economists usually abstract from such pleasure: the only thing that gives me happiness now—utility—is current consumption. So saving for the future is a transfer of happiness from now to later. Crude as this is, it surely captures a powerful feature of reality: most of us are not misers, we save because we are prudent. But consuming is more fun. We have now reached the heart of what is distinctive about the role of government in societies that are rich in nonrenewable natural assets. The exploitation of the natural asset is intrinsically unsustainable. At some stage the oil well is going to run dry, the vein of copper ore will be exhausted, and the revenue stream will cease. That word “unsustainable” sends shivers down the spine of every environmentalist. But just because the exploitation of a natural asset is unsustainable does not mean that it should be avoided. The only sustainable rate of use of a nonrenewable natural asset is zero. But were we never to use any nonrenewable assets they might as well not be there in the first place: the baby has disappeared with the bathwater. So, literal sustainability sets the bar absurdly high. Here economics is helpful in imagining a more meaningful conception: sustainability does not imply preservation.
Unparticle
Authors: Keats Jonathon
Published: November 2020

“All science is either physics or stamp collecting.” So claimed Ernest Rutherford, the British physicist who discovered the atomic nucleus in 1910, touting the explanatory power of physics over the busywork of classifying elements or planets or animals. One hundred years later, the endless variety of matter postulated by physics—within the nucleus and throughout the universe—has far surpassed the inventories of the periodic table and solar system, leading particle physicists to refer to their domain as a bestiary and one textbook to be aptly titled A Tour of the Subatomic Zoo. There are electrons and protons and neutrons, as well as quarks and positrons and neutrinos. There are also gluons and muons—the unexpected discovery of which, in 1936, led the physicist Isidor Rabi to quip, “Who ordered that?”—and potentially axions and saxions and saxinos. In this menagerie it’s not easy for a new particle, especially a hypothetical one, to get attention. The unparticle, first proposed by American physicist Howard Georgi in 2007, is therefore remarkable for garnering worldwide media attention and spurring more than a hundred scholarly papers, especially considering that there’s no experimental evidence for it, nor is it called for mathematically by any prior theory. What an unparticle is, exactly, remains vague. The strange form of matter first arose on paper when Georgi asked himself what properties a “scale-invariant” particle might have and how it might interact with the observable universe. Scale invariance is a quality of fractals, such as snowflakes and fern leaves, that makes them look essentially the same at any magnification. Georgi’s analogous idea was to imagine particles that would interact with the same force regardless of the distance between them. What he found was that such particles would have no definite mass, which would, for example, exempt them from obeying special relativity. “It’s very difficult to even find the words to describe what unparticles are,” Georgi confessed to the magazine New Scientist in 2008, “because they are so unlike what we are familiar with.” For those unprepared to follow his mathematics, the name evokes their essential foreignness.
Qubit
Authors: Keats Jonathon
Published: November 2020

Every man in ancient Egypt had his own standard of measurement. The standard unit was a cubit, the span from the bend of his elbow to his middle finger tip. A natural length, as natural as the body itself, it was also a natural source of disagreement between men of different statures. To build the Pyramids, or even conduct daily business without coming to fisticuff s, the cubit had to be universalized. And it was, more than once. The Egyptian royal cubit was one palm longer than the common cubit of 17.72 modern inches, that palm being scaled to match the hand of the reigning pharaoh. In Greece, where the cubit was adopted, it needed to be reconciled with the local fathom, based on the distance between two outstretched arms. Adjusted to measure one quarter of a fathom (the fathom having been standardized to six Greek feet of 12.14 modern inches each), the Greek cubit spanned 18.2 inches—which is to say somewhat less than the Babylonian cubit of 19.6 inches and somewhat more than the Roman cubit of 17.49 inches—none of these measures correlating with the Hebrew, Persian, Arabic, or Mesopotamian cubits. For the ancient trader, the range of cubit lengths must have been a source of aggravation. For the modern historian, though, these differences in definition—discrepancies in measurement preserved in written records and stone rods—are a rich source of information about ancient cultures, their bureaucratic structures, and their interactions with others. Future historians may find equivalent insight into our own time by examining our tortuous path toward standardized measurements of information. Our most basic unit is the bit, an abbreviation of binary digit. The word first appeared in print in 1948, in one of the founding papers of information theory, “A Mathematical Theory of Communication,” written by Claude Shannon, father of the discipline. Shannon borrowed bit from the statistician John Tukey, a colleague at Bell Laboratories who had a knack for coining catchy words (such as software), and came up with bit as an alternative to less attractive contractions, including binit and bigit.
(-///-)
Authors: Keats Jonathon
Published: November 2020

The snigger point, or note of cachinnation, was invented by Ambrose Bierce in 1887. He proposed the new typographic symbol as “an improvement in punctuation,” explaining in an essay that “it is written thus ︶ and represents, as nearly as may be, a smiling mouth. It is to be appended, with the full stop, to every jocular or ironical sentence; or, without the stop, to every jocular or ironical clause of a sentence otherwise serious.” Recommended to humorless colleagues who had no trouble recognizing his sarcasm, the snigger point, or note of cachinnation, never caught on. Similar suggestions have since been advanced, independently, with different motivations. In 1899 the French writer Alcanter de Brahm earnestly proposed that a backward question mark be used in print as a point d’ironie , an idea that Alfred Jarry fervently endorsed two years later, though both the irony mark and its creator faded into obscurity shortly thereafter. And in 1967 Reader’s Digest ran a short item by the Baltimore Sunday Sun correspondent Ralph Reppert, whose Aunt Ev seasoned her family letters with the symbol –) representing “her tongue stuck in her cheek,” an idea recirculated on an ARPANET mailing list in 1979 in a proposal to counteract “the loss of meaning in this medium [due to] the lack of tone, gestures, facial expressions, etc.” The ARPANET community never embraced Aunt Ev’s innovation. But three years later a slightly different icon was rapidly and permanently adopted. The emblem was first playfully circulated on the Carnegie Mellon University bulletin board system by a computer scientist, Scott Fahlman: . . . 19-Sep-82 11:44 Scott E Fahlman :-) From: Scott E Fahlman  I propose that the following character sequence for joke markers: :-) Read it sideways. Actually, it is probably more economical to mark things that are NOT jokes, given current trends. For this, use :-( . . . The :-( symbol was enthusiastically taken up together with the :-), though not in the way Fahlman intended.
Exopolitics
Authors: Keats Jonathon
Published: November 2020

At the Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library, an archivist named Herb Pankratz specializes in queries about the thirtyfourth president’s exopolitics. Pankratz assumed this responsibility because of his expertise in transportation. Since exopolitics involves diplomacy with visitors from other planets, his colleagues deemed him the best qualified person on staff to field questions, of which there are many, since Ike is alleged to be the first president to have negotiated directly with aliens. Neither Pankratz nor anyone else at the Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library is able to confirm these historic events. They tell researchers that the president’s presumed first meeting with extraterrestrials, on the evening of February 20, 1954, was in fact a dental appointment. They inform people that Eisenhower’s emergency departure from the Smoking Tree Ranch, where he was vacationing, was on account of a chipped porcelain cap on his upper right incisor, broken when he bit down on a chicken bone, not a secret meeting at Edwards Air Force Base with aliens requesting that he end America’s nuclear weapons program in order to protect the space-time continuum. The archivists have no record of the words with which Ike rebuffed his celestial guests without causing an intergalactic diplomatic rift, nor of the accord he allegedly reached with a different alien race later that year, allowing them to borrow cows and humans for purposes of medical examination, provided that they return the specimens unharmed. The lack of documentation has not been taken as want of evidence by organizations such as the Exopolitics Institute. On the contrary the information gap has only further convinced them of a governmental cover-up, extending to the present day, a “truth embargo” involving not only Secretary of State Hillary Clinton but also the United Nations. As a conspiracy theory exopolitics is barely worthy of a B movie. Even without asking how these extraterrestrial ambassadors have avoided public exposure for over half a century, one might legitimately wonder why the world’s governments have so persistently hidden them, and why beings of allegedly superior intelligence have proven so complacent.
Introduction
Authors: Singer Donald , Menzie W. David
Published: November 2020

Every day, somewhere in the world, decisions are made about how public lands that might contain undiscovered resources should be used or whether to invest in exploration for minerals. Less frequently, decisions are made concerning mineral resource adequacy, national policy, and regional development. Naturally, the people making the decisions would like to know the exact consequences of the decisions before the decisions are made. Unfortunately, it is not possible to inform these decision-makers, with any certainty, about amounts, discoverability, or economics of undiscovered mineral resources. The kind of assessment recommended in this book is founded in decision analysis in order to provide a normative framework for making decisions concerning mineral resources under conditions of uncertainty. Our goal is to make explicit the factors that can affect a mineral-related decision so that the decision-maker can clearly see the possible consequences of the decision. This means that we start with the question of what kinds of issues decision-makers are trying to resolve and what types and forms of information would aid in resolving these issues. This book has a different purpose than academic reports common to many assessments, and it is not designed to help select sites for exploration. The audience for products of assessments discussed here comprises governmental and industrial policy-makers, managers of exploration, planners of regional development, and similar decision-makers. Some of the tools and models presented here are useful for selection of exploration sites, but that is a side benefit. The focus of this book is on the practical integration of the fundamental kinds of information needed by the decision-maker. The integrated approach to assessment presented in this book focuses on three assessment parts and the models that support them. The first part uses models of tonnages and grades to estimate possible tonnages and grades of undiscovered deposits. The second part develops mineral resource maps that explore whether an area’s geology permits the existence of one or more types of mineral deposits. The product of this part of the assessment is identification of so-called permissive tracts of land.
Grade-and-Tonnage Models
Authors: Singer Donald , Menzie W. David
Published: November 2020

Mineral deposit models are important in quantitative resource assessments for two reasons: (1) grades and tonnages of most deposit types are significantly different (Singer, Cox, and Drew, 1975; Singer and Kouda, 2003), and (2) deposit types occur in different geologic settings that can be identified from geologic maps. If assessments were only conducted to estimate amounts of undiscovered metals, we would need contained metal models, but determining whether the metals might be economic to recover is an important quality of most assessments, and grades and tonnages are necessary to estimate economic viability of mineral deposits (see chapter 5). In this chapter, we focus on the first part of three-part assessments: grade-and-tonnage models. Too few thoroughly explored mineral deposits are available in most areas being assessed for reliable identification of the important geoscience variables or for robust estimation of undiscovered deposits, so we need mineral-deposit models that are generalized. Well-designed and well-constructed grade-and-tonnage models allow mineral economists to determine the possible economic viability of the resources in the region and provide the foundation for planning. Thus, mineral deposit models play the central role in transforming geoscience information to a form useful to policy-makers. Grade-and-tonnage models are fundamental in the development of other kinds of models such as deposit-density and economic filters. Frequency distributions of tonnages and average grades of well-explored deposits of each type are employed as models for grades and tonnages of undiscovered deposits of the same type in geologically similar settings. Grade-and-tonnage models (Cox and Singer, 1986; Mosier and Page, 1988; Bliss, 1992a, 1992b; Cox et al., 2003; Singer, Berger, and Moring, 2008) combined with estimates of number of undiscovered deposits are the fundamental means of translating geologists’ resource assessments into a language that decision-makers can use. For example, creation of a grade-and-tonnage model for rhyolite-hosted Sn deposits in 1986 demonstrated for the first time that 90 percent of such deposits contain less than 4,200 tons of ore. This made it clear that an ongoing research project by the U.S. Geological Survey on this deposit type could have no effect on domestic supplies of tin, and the project was cancelled.
Introduction
Authors: Ling Roger , Arthur Paul , Clarke Georgia , Lazer Estelle , Ling Lesley A. , Rush Peter , Waters Andrew
Published: November 2020

Each house will now be reviewed separately, as an independent living unit of the last period. This entails, first, giving a brief description (for fuller details of the structural techniques, features, and measurements, reference can be made to the gazetteer, Appendix A). Attention will be paid to the internal functioning of the house, in so far as this can be determined from formal features (Wallace-Hadrill in his article on the social structure of the Roman house makes it clear how flexible the functioning of the house must have been in practice and how difficult it is to reach firm conclusions), to the evidence for the existence and arrangement of upper storeys, to the disposition of the roofs, and to what we know about owners or occupiers and their activities. As stated in the Introduction, further approaches to some of these questions, notably regarding room functions and the occupations of owners, will emerge from the studies of decorations and finds in Volumes II and III. Many questions will, inevitably remain unanswered. Without full excavation of cisterns and drains, for example, it is impossible to be certain about all details of water provision and disposal. The roof reconstructions, in particular, have to remain hypothetical. Although some of the restoration undertaken at the time of excavation is clearly based upon evidence visible to the excavators, it is probable that other parts were restored in a more arbitrary fashion (see p. 12 n. 13). In any case, the bulk of the insula was not reroofed at all, and much of the potential evidence, even if it was available in 1927-32, is now irrevocably lost. The reconstructions proposed, which are gathered together in visual form in Figs. 55-8, exploit such clues as still remain, but are otherwise based on such doubtful criteria as ‘probability and logic’. But the insula, as we shall see, is a palimpsest of frequent piecemeal changes, and it would be unreasonable to expect that the roof arrangements represent anything other than a series of constant compromises producing solutions which are neither ‘probable’ nor logical’.
I 10, 4: Casa del Menandro
Authors: Ling Roger , Arthur Paul , Clarke Georgia , Lazer Estelle , Ling Lesley A. , Rush Peter , Waters Andrew
Published: November 2020

As stated in part one, the casa del menandro occupied more than half of the insula at the time of Pompeii’s burial; it is thus by far the largest property in the block. It also lacks a homogeneous plan, and had clearly gone through a complex (and partly unrecoverable) process of piecemeal development. These factors make it difficult to carry out any form of unitary analysis; such an analysis would inevitably be unwieldy and over-complicated. The folowing discussion will therefore break the property up into its constituent parts, examining each in turn before drawing the threads together and considering general aspects of the house, its development, functioning, and ownership. To aid the division come certain natural caesuras in the plan. The main residential core, focused on the atrium and the peristyle, is physically and functionally distinct from the two service areas, the kitchen quarter to the west, and the stableyard and staff quarters to the south-east and east. Each of these service areas is accessible from the peristyle, but each is ‘distanced’ from it by an approach corridor, and the second has its own separate entrances from the street, so could function to some extent as an independent unit. Each area, moreover, appears to have been acquired at the expense of pre-existing properties not physically connected to the Menandro; and any discussion of its structural history involves some consideration of the history of the neighbouring properties (for the stableyard area, for instance, it is necessary to include the one-room units I 10,12 and 13). Even in the central part of the house, there is something of a dichotomy between the atrium and peristyle complexes. This dichotomy is chiefly chronological, in that the atrium formed the nucleus of the original house, with perhaps no more than a small garden at the rear, while in the final house the focus had shifted to the peristyle and its surrounding rooms, even if the atrium and tablinum remained important areas of reception and passage.
Egypt under the Saite Dynasty
Authors: Moller Astrid
Published: November 2020

Only after considering the social background of the countries involved is it possible to determine whether we are indeed talking about a ‘port of trade’. For this reason, we first examine Egyptian society at the time of the Saites, and thereafter focus attention on its Greek counterpart. It is only when this change of perspective has been undertaken that we can cease to regard Naukratis unthinkingly as a Greek colony, and can grasp fully the phenomenon that it represents. It is primarily from Herodotus’ Second Book, supplemented by Egyptian and oriental sources, that we learn about the Egyptian Late Period, of which the Saite dynasty is a part. Egyptologists regard this period as somewhat peripheral, especially with respect to our particular interest, the economy; for this reason, it will occasionally be necessary to construct analogies, drawing on examples from the Middle and New Kingdoms. It can be assumed that the picture will have appeared somewhat different in the so-called Intermediate Periods, which are thus rendered invalid for purposes of comparison, the lack of strong central administration leading to a loss of influence on the part of the centres of redistribution. According to Polanyi, the dominant pattern of integration is determined by the manner in which land and work are allocated. The prevalent social and economic system in Egypt is characterized principally by redistribution, although a closer examination results in a more differentiated view. Agriculture, the basis of every pre-industrial economy, functions in Egypt according to a system of instructions and quota calculations. Taxes and dues are used to support the court and the bureaucracy, but are also redistributed to the producers, who thereby participate in Egypt’s ‘surplus society’. The bureaucracy is maintained by the producers, but simultaneously ensures that the system continues to function, thereby setting itself up as the ruling class. The desire for social prestige is typical of this elite, and finds expression in titles, dress, and the cult of the dead. In principle, all land in ancient Egypt belonged to the Pharaoh; however, it is possible to distinguish two forms of land ownership.