Venus Flytrap

logical proposition regarding “peaceful” circumstances, then asks them to apply that same logic that was agreed upon to more controversial subjects such as slavery and human auctions. Additionally, Whitman also used a technique comparable to a Venus flytrap by starting “I Sing the Body Electric” innocently enough, then trapping the readers with something they didn’t expect. Readers start out the poem believing it has no special meaning, but halfway through, Whitman introduces his passion-fueled…

Tracing the steps from the Lee family 's initial trust in Western medicine via pleasant experiences in camps to the Lee family neglecting Lia 's health by not properly administering Western medicine to Lia declared no more sentient than a Venus flytrap, it is wise to note that the gap between the two cultures are marked by many obstacles: bilingual assistance, proper communication, different measures of time, notions of health and well-being tied with spirituality and culture, decision making…

For years now, people have known that plants and animals are to some degree sentient. Does this give them the right to personhood? In the articles “ Are Animals Persons?” by Margaret Somerville and “Are Plants Intelligent? New Book Says Yes” by Jeremy Hance this topic is brought up. While both Hance and Somerville write about having respect for these species, Somerville is not willing to grant animals personhood just based on the fact that they have emotions, whereas Hance is all for plant…

Block The Writer’s Block is a bookseller, book manufacturer, literary treasury, writer’s workshop, and artificial bird sanctuary. Its book shop is Vegas’ exclusive retailer of new fiction and nonfiction books, writing and print supplies, games and Venus flytraps. Codex, a studio space located behind the store, is dedicated to education, production and…

Timmy slowed his breathing. His knees dug into his chest, as he curled up in fetal position in the small dumbwaiter situated across from the kitchen, where Lynda was. Timmy held his breath, and peered through the hole in the dumbwaiter, looking directly at the kitchen door. He saw nothing; Lynda was nowhere to be seen. As if on cue, a hand punched through the drywall dumbwaiter wall and grabbed Timmy by the neck of his shirt, slamming his face against the dusty material. As Tim struggled to…