南风知我意,吹梦到西洲。 不为无益之事，何以遣有涯之生。
( Mon, 25 Jul 2011 07:16:59 +0800 )
Description: 据美联社7月22日报道，挪威警方今天说， 一名土生土长的恐怖分子今天先引爆炸弹，重创位于首都奥斯陆的挪威政府办公大楼，然后又身穿警服去了一个夏令营，在一些青少年四散逃命（有的甚至跳水逃命）时将其***杀。 这两起袭击事件造成至少91人丧生，是二战结束以来这个爱好和平的国家发生的最严重的暴力事件。 据路透社7月20日报道，挪威一名伪装成***的***手向参加夏令营的青少年开***扫射，造成至少84人身亡。警方说，遇难人数还可能增加。 ***击事件发生在位于奥斯陆西北的于特岛。当时，执政党工党下属青年团正在举行青少年夏令营。目击者安妮塔·利恩说： “我看到人们跳进水里往岸边游去。他们大哭、颤抖，简直吓坏了。”幸存者约尔根·贝诺内说：“情况一团混乱。我看到有人中***，我尽力让自己安静坐好、藏在一些石头后面。我看到***手一次，离我只有二三十米。” 夏令营警卫莫滕森表示，这名***手伪装成***，开着一辆银灰色的车混进于特岛，“他下车并拿出证件，表示他被派到这里安检。一切都看起来很正常。不出几分钟，我们就听到***响。” ***案前数小时，首都奥斯陆政府办公区也发生爆炸，造成7人死亡。这是2005年伦敦交通系统爆炸案以来，欧洲最大的一起攻击事件。爆炸将整条街玻璃震碎一地，撼动建筑结构，连钢筋都扭曲变形。首相办公室大楼窗户被炸碎，石油部大楼起火，市中心上空升起阵阵黑烟，民众吓得四处逃窜。不过首相斯托尔滕贝格安然无恙。 警方负责人厄于斯泰因·梅兰表示，袭击已达到“灾难程度”。 据西班牙《国家报》网站7月20日报道，“似乎战争场景。”这是挪威《日报》记者埃纳尔·哈格瓦格对奥斯陆市中心政府大楼发生爆炸后周边景象的描述。他说：“前面一座建筑几乎炸没了，入口都毁了。一团巨大的烟尘笼罩着首相办公室所在的建筑。对挪威人来说，这样的事是无法想象的。人们都吓傻了，相互问：‘这里怎么可能发生这种事？’” 微软公司挪威分部负责人乔尔·塞特的办公室离爆炸地点仅100米，他说：“我们挪威人都很困惑，像这样的事以前只在电视里看过。” 22日下午爆炸发生后，奥斯陆大街上已几乎看不到人。警方封锁了很多区域，并告诫市民尽量不要外出。 嫌犯落网身份成谜 据美联社23日报道，挪威国家广播电台称，制造奥斯陆爆炸案并在于特岛夏令营大开杀戒的赚犯名叫安德所·贝林·布雷维克。 挪威媒体公布了这个金发碧眼的挪威人的照片，警方则于昨晚搜查了这名32岁男子在奥斯陆的公寓。 一名警宫说，在于特岛夏令营落网的布雷维克制造这两起事件时都是单独作案，“好像与任何国际恐怖组织毫无关系”。 对调查人员来说，涉嫌杀害夏令营中至少84名青少年并在奥斯陆引爆一枚炸弹的这个人就像个谜团：他是具有反穆斯林思想的右翼分子，却与顽固的激进分子组织没有联系。 一名挪威警官说，“他不知是从哪里冒出来的”，不属于挪威任何已知的极端右翼组织，且无犯罪前科，“他一直不在我们的视线之内，如果他积极参与挪威新纳粹组织的活动，应该会受到我们的注意。不过，他仍可能受到他们的意识形态的鼓动”。 挪威一名高级警官说，该嫌犯在网上发的帖子表明“他具有一定的右翼政治倾向，持反穆斯林的观点。但这是否是他采取实际行动的动机，仍有待观察”。 ！ 据路透社7月23日报道，有一些伊斯兰好战组织曾与对欧洲的袭击阴谋有关，包括“基地”组织、巴基斯坦的虔诚军和塔利班、索马里青年党等。 挪威的袭击事件有“基地”作案的部分特征，但它也可能是极右武装分子所为。许多西欧国家的警方都对极右情绪不断增长感到担忧。 挪威电视台TV2今天报道说，被捕的嫌犯与右翼极端主义有联系。纽约大学专家哈加伊·西格尔说：“如果情况属实，那将意义重大——这种极右袭击事件在欧洲和斯堪的纳维亚半岛是前所未有的。” l 挪威专家雅各布·格辛米尔斯基表示，主使者可能是右翼分子，他们关注移民议题，在挪威及北欧其他国家日渐发展。他说：“若伊斯兰极端分子发动攻击，不会选择一座偏僻岛屿。” 据英国《金融时报》网站7月23日报道，刚刚传来挪威发生恐怖袭击的消息时，人们立刻怀疑是伊斯兰极端分子或是代表利比亚领导人卡扎菲的组织所为。挪威参与了北约在阿富汗的行动，还派出飞机参与北约当前对利比亚的袭击。专家认为，最有可能的袭击动机是为挪威参与阿富汗或利比亚事务而对其进行惩罚。 然而，警方透露，嫌犯是土生土长的挪威人。这让与伊斯兰激进势力没有任何关联的本土极端主义开始成为怀疑对象。专家认为，嫌犯可能与挪威本地的新纳粹主义氛围存在关联。 “和平之国”不再和平 英国《泰晤士报》网站7月22日发表题为《岛上的屠杀和首都的汽车炸弹打破了70年的和平》文章： 在没有任何征兆的情况下，威力巨大的炸弹打破了奥斯陆夏日午后的宁静，也突然终结了保持近70年的和平局面。 挪威首都发生的这次爆炸事件至少夺去了7人生命，但就在挪威人面对爆炸所造成的严重破坏而感到茫然之际，更可怕的事发生了：从主要执政党在一个偏僻小岛上组织的夏令营的营地传来消息，一名***手至少射杀了84人。 在经历了这样可怕的一天后，挪威受到极大震动，它不知道自己参与北约和阿富汗行动的做法是否点燃了导火索。 据《华盛顿邮报》网站7月23日报道，提起挪威，人们总会想到诺贝尔和平奖，很少有人将其与暴力事件联系起来。22日发生的两起袭击事件震惊挪威全国，似乎将会迫使这个政府大楼都很少没有安保措施的开放社会进行文化转型。 在爆炸事件发生后，首相斯托尔滕贝格被紧急送往一个秘密地点。奥斯陆很多居民表示，两起袭击事件很可能产生深远影响。多年来，市内戒备最森严的建筑物一直是美国使馆，有人对此感到不解，认为相关安保措施实在没有必要。 根据挪威有关部门的评估报告， 2010年，挪威国内的右翼极端主义情绪有所上升，极右翼分子一直和有组织犯罪集团保持着接触，这增加了他们制造暴力事件的可能。 西班牙《世界报》网站7月22日发表题为《挪威的“9·11”》文章： 今天发生的爆炸案和***击事件使挪威和全世界感到震惊。极端组织为什么要攻击挪威呢？挪威是举世闻名的国际和平谈判者，诺贝尔和平奖也在这里颁发。与此同时，挪威还是向世界其他地区提供人均援助最多的国家。 伦敦大学国王学院政治分析家乔纳森·帕里斯认为，“基地”组织似乎正将目标锁定在保护措施较弱的目标上， 22日的袭击就是表明“基地”在本·拉丹死后仍在活动的一种方式。 英国厂播公司的分析家约恩·马兹利恩认为，在个人自由、社会平等和文化开放等方面位居世界前列的挪威人迄今过着非常放松的生活，也许还有一些单纯。但就是这个从未受到过袭击或恐怖主义威胁的国家却遭遇了自己的“9·11”，也许一切都不能再回到从前。显而易见，挪威已经失去了它的单纯，已经不会再有以前的安全感了。
( Sun, 24 Jul 2011 21:24:40 +0800 )
Description:
Taylor Swift——You Belong with Me
You''re on the phone with your girlfriend, shes u et.
Shes going off about something that you said
''Cuz she doe ''t, get your humor like I do...
I''m in the room, it''s a typical Tuesday night
I''m listening to the kind of music she doe ''t like
and she''ll never know your story like i do
But she wears short skirts
I wear T-shirts
She''s cheer captain
And I''m on the bleachers
Dreaming about the day when you wake up
And find what you''re looking for
has been here the whole time
If you could see that I''m the one who understands you
been here all along so why can''t you see, you
You belong with me
You belong with me
Walkin'' the streets with you and your worn-out jea I can''t help thinking this is how it ought to be
Laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself
Hey i ''t this easy
And you''ve got a smile that could light up this whole town
I haven''t seen it in a while since she brought you down
You say you''re fine
I know you better then that
Hey whatcha doing with a girl like that
She wears high heels
I wear eakers
Shes cheer captain and
I''m on the bleachers
Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find
That what you''re looking for
has been here the whole time
If you could see that I''m the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can''t you see
You belong with me
Standing by and waiting at your back door
all this time how could you not know
Baby....
You belong with me
You belong with me
I remember you drivin'' to my house
in the middle of the night
I''m the one who makes you laugh
When you know you''re about to cry
And i know your favorite songs
And you tell me about your dreams
Think I know where you belong
Think I know it''s with me...
Can''t you see that I''m the one who understands you
Been here all along
So why can''t you see
You belong with me
Standing by and waiting at your back door
All this time
How could you not know
Baby you belong with me
You belong with me
You belong with me
Have you ever thought just maybe
you belong with me
You belong with me...
( Sun, 24 Jul 2011 20:27:36 +0800 )
Description:
那些玲珑精致又荡气回肠的床前明月光。
( Wed, 20 Jul 2011 09:52:48 +0800 )
Description: 《变形金刚3：月黑之时》终于要于7月21日在国内上映了，新一代的变形金刚女郎罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉 (Rosie Huntington Whiteley) 演技到底怎么样？会不会超越“前辈”梅根·福克斯 (Megan Fox)呢？我们只能拭目以待啦。今天就先跟小编一起看看新一代“变女郎”的性感妆发Show吧。 NO.1 单侧披肩发+粉嫩妆容
　　小编解析：略显凌乱的单侧披肩发，让罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉散发出性感火辣的女人味，而点缀其间的一缕拧发又透露出温婉和妩媚的一面，再搭配上粉嫩的妆容，则散发出“冰火两重天”的致命吸引力。 NO.2 中分长发+烈焰红唇
　　小编解析：罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉穿上大V领曳地礼服，高挑身姿下中分长发肆意飞舞，精致妆容下烈焰红唇微启，举手投足间无不显露熟女的从容性感。 NO.3 中分卷发+自然裸妆
　　小编解析：梦幻般的中分卷发搭配上自然的裸妆，不用多加任何修饰，罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉的柔美感就已经和盘托出，散发出清新甜美的少女气息。 NO.4 复古高盘发+玫瑰唇妆
　　小编解析：复古高盘发给罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉注入了一种不可比拟的优雅，搭配上玫瑰色的唇妆，知性唯美的女神气质呼之欲出。 NO.5 偏分长卷发+落日妆容
　　小编解析：优雅大气的落日妆容搭配上妩媚的长卷发，罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉给人以香醇的内敛印象，闪耀出不那么耀眼的光泽，却给依旧留下难以磨灭的印象。 NO.6 半束发+微醺眼妆
　　小编解析：自然飞扬的半束发轻轻抚摸着罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉美丽的脸庞，微醺的眼部妆容则凸显出性感迷蒙的眼眸，再加上丰韵亮丽的双唇，绝对让人欲罢不能。 NO.7 单侧披肩长卷发+橘粉色妆容
　　小编解析：橘粉色的腮红，沿颧骨晕染开来，与赭色双唇相碰撞，充满了热情的味道，而单侧披肩长卷发搭配上高叉低胸礼服裙，罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉的性感味道up又up。 NO.8 凌乱中分半束发+上钩眼线
　　小编解析：凌乱的中分半束发搭配上微微上钩的黑色眼线，充满了野性的味道，罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉回眸的一瞬间不知抹杀了多少菲林。 NO.9 all-back全盘发+橙色妆容
　　小编解析：橙色腮红给罗西·汉丁顿·惠特莉增加了温暖感和亲和力，搭配上同色系的唇蜜，在all-back全盘发的凸显下呈现出来的单色调look纯粹而魅惑。 NO.10 自然长卷发+棕色眼影
　　小编解析：闪亮的眼影膏与眼尾棕咖眼影相结合，清新自然却又立体感十足，略带樱桃红的唇色则散发着年轻的光芒，哑光妆感搭配上无明显发隙的长卷发凸显出气质与品位。
( Fri, 15 Jul 2011 14:20:11 +0800 )
Description: 　　在抛出几个方案给对方选择时，虽然心潮澎湃地希望对方选择方案A，但表面上还得淡定自若，摆出一副客观公正的官方甜美笑容。比如，递给客户两份合同书：“一份是分期付款合同，一份是一次性付款合同，您可以根据自己的情况合理选择”。这时候可以巧妙运用心理暗示的方法，让对方在你的暗示引导下自然而然按照你的希望选择结果。
　　在询问“您到底选择哪一种呢？”时认真注视对方的眼睛，然后一个手指假装无意地在“一次性合同”上轻轻敲打，此时若对方尚未决定好选择哪个，便会不由自主受到这种小动作的影响，心理天秤倾向这份合同书，从而最终受到你的操纵而决定选择这份合同。看着对方被你牵着鼻子走，偷偷在心里得意一下下吧，这可是一种技术含量很高的心理战术呢！
　　和对方已经见过几回面，却始终搞不清他脑袋里到底在想什么。关于这次投资，他的预算底限是多少，打算采用哪个风格的设计方案，尾款何时付清……这些问题以目前熟识的程度能不能开口询问呢？
　　在人人都带着假面的职场上，很多时候，要想准确把握与对方的距离感，是很难的事情。尤其可怕的是，你以为你们已经足够熟络，可以进展到某种程度的试探或谈话，而对方却完全不这么想。这时就已经不仅仅是丢人的事了，你可能丢掉的是大单子，甚至丢掉这份工作！教给你一个简单的方法，杯子就可以当尺子，测试两人之间的距离到底有多远。
　　找个机会将对方约到咖啡店或茶餐厅喝点东西，先挑些生活琐事闲聊一会，让气氛慢慢变得轻松自然，等到差不多时，装作不经意地把自己的杯子慢慢推向对方的杯子。如果对方没有挪开，就意味着两人的关系有进步了！如果对方默默为你的杯子留出距离，不得不说，你们之间其实距离还很远，接下来你可得见机行事了！
　　这种方法是一种迂回战术，就是在和别人说话时故意说错一些事实，或者根本自己胡编乱造一通，在别人纠正事实的过程中，获得自己需要的有利信息。比如，问道：“张组长是在光华大厦住吧？”对方答道：“不啊，我在天河美小区住。”问道：“那边房子不错，我也想买，你在那边住很久了吧，感觉怎么样？”答道：“目前还不错，不过我入住也没多久，具体情况还不太清楚”。
( Sun, 10 Jul 2011 00:30:54 +0800 )
Description: 专家更推荐，每个家庭都可以设立一个“我家健康日”，这一天，全家一起来做这七项检查，以便于相互监督改进。
手掌探测贫血状况
缺铁性贫血会降低免疫力，让你觉得疲劳、腰酸背疼、视物模糊。而这种疾病的线索就是你的手掌。
家庭体检：摊开手掌，看看掌纹是否发白。“不管你的自然肤色是什么，掌纹或牙龈和眼睑内异常发白，都是一种信号，说明因为缺铁，影响了皮下毛细血管的血液循环。”美国得克萨斯健康科学中心的冯·温克尔博士说。如果掌纹发白，最好去医院做血常规检查。
腰围预示早逝风险
“腰带越长、寿命越短”绝对不是儿戏，即使你并不超重，过大的腰围也会增加你早逝的风险。近日，欧洲九国对36万人进行的调查显示，即使对并不超重的人来说，腰围过大也会使女性早死风险增加79%，男性早死风险增加一倍。哈佛公共卫生学院对超过4万名妇女的一项研究表明，腰围过大使患致命心脏病的风险增加三倍。
家庭体检：裸露身体站在镜子前，用卷尺围住腰部，然后向下移动，直到卷尺底部停在髋骨上。这是美国国立卫生研究院推荐的位置。不要屏住呼吸，也不要把卷尺勒得太紧，记下你的腰围尺寸。对男性来说，腰围超过94厘米，患糖尿病和心脏病的风险会增高；腰围超过102厘米，被视为高风险。对女性来说，81厘米是危险临界点，89厘米是高风险临界值。
伸展运动检测动脉硬化程度
健康的血管像气球一样柔韧，每天有规律地扩张、收缩，将血液带向全身。但是，年龄增长、体重增加、久坐、糖尿病等因素会导致动脉斑块形成，动脉越来越硬。你不需要进行复杂的医学检查，做一个小动作，就可以知道自己的动脉是像***一样柔软，还是像旧轮胎一样没有弹性。最近一项调查显示，坐位体前屈测试中身体最柔软的人，也拥有最有弹性的血管。两者有何关联？北得克萨斯大学健康科学中心山本健太博士指出，动脉壁和你臀部、背部的肌肉一样，由平滑肌细胞和结缔组织组成。因此，无论哪里硬化，都会对其他部位产生同样的影响。
家庭体检：坐在地板上，向前伸直腿，脚趾朝向天花板与小腿成90度夹角。腰部向前弯曲，手臂向脚伸展，努力触及脚趾。“如果够不到脚趾，动脉硬化的风险就有可能增加。如果过去一年你没有量过血压，现在就得量一量。”山本健太说。
两分钟糖尿病问答
糖尿病如果不及时治疗，会增加患心脏病的风险，使寿命缩短10—15年。美国疾病预防控制中心的调查显示，糖尿病的早期检出率只有4%，另有570万人一直与糖尿病“共同生活”，自己却不知情。美国韦尔康奈尔医学院公共医学部彭熙俊博士说：“你只需花两分钟回答6个问题，就可以得知自己和糖尿病有多近。”
家庭体检：选出你的***，然后把分数相加。
1.你的年龄？(40岁以下：0分；40—49岁：1分；50—59岁：2分；60岁以上：3分)
2.你的性别？(男：1分；女：0分)
3.你的家庭成员(父母或兄弟姐妹)中有糖尿病患者吗？(否：0分；是：1分)
4.你有高血压或正在进行高血压药物治疗吗？(否：0分；是：1分)
5.你的体重情况？(正常：0分；超重：1分；肥胖：2分；极度肥胖：3分)
6.你进行体育锻炼吗？(否：0分；是：-1分)
如果你的总分达到4分，就要警惕糖尿病风险了；如果你的得分是5分或更高，最好去医院做个血糖测试。
一分钟抑郁问答
英国莱切斯特大学精神病学家亚历克斯·米歇尔博士对世界范围内41项研究进行分析得出，50%的抑郁症被误诊漏诊。
家庭体检：新西兰奥克兰大学的研究人员表示，只需要两个简单的问题，就可以确诊97%的抑郁症患者。1.在过去一个月内，你是否经常因不开心、沮丧或没有希望而烦恼？2.在过去一个月里，你是否因没什么兴趣或不愿意做事而烦恼？如果你对其中一个或两个问题的***为“是”，就应该及时和心理医生交流了。 呼吸预测哮喘风险 哮喘这种呼吸系统疾病的可怕之处在于，它给患者的日常生活带来前所未有的挑战，日常锻炼甚至可能给这些人带来致命风险。在美国，“被忽视”的哮喘每年导致180万人进急诊室。最近一项涉及4000多人的调查显示，其中10%的人有未确诊的哮喘。美国亚利桑那大学的保罗·恩莱特博士说：“别小看哮喘，它会使你的生活‘难上加难’。”
家庭体检：在近2.7万人参加的呼吸状态研究中，研究人员发现，用两个问题就能预测90%的哮喘：1.你有觉得呼吸困难的时候吗？2.你在锻炼或用力时有过胸闷气短的经历吗？“如果你对其中一个或两个问题的***为‘是’，就要留意哮喘风险了。”恩莱特博士说。
踏步反映心脏状态
平稳而有规律的心脏搏动是生命存在的基石。在所有的中风案例中，20%由心率紊乱引起。据估计，美国约有220万人有房颤症状，其中1/3的人对此毫不知情。让他们了解自己的身体状态，可以大大减少中风的发生。
家庭体检：将你的手指放在手腕或颈部的动脉处，探测自己的脉搏，双脚跟随脉搏的频率踏步一分钟。如果心跳不规律，你会发现你很难跟上步伐。大量科学研究显示，这样一个简单的测试，可以预知高达90%的房颤。如果测试结果不理想，可以休息片刻，待呼吸心跳平稳后再做，如果步伐仍难跟上心跳节奏，最好及时去医院检查。
( Sat, 25 Jun 2011 21:11:52 +0800 )
Description:
　一、永远不要拒绝改变
　　如果你不想成为被慢慢煮死的青蛙，就不要害怕变革。是的，变革意味着你将放弃拥有的东西，面对未知的风险，可变革同样让你拥有重新开始的可能，让你获得推翻从前的机会。想想，当j.k罗琳在廉价咖啡馆里写作的时候，她还只是个贫穷、离异、相貌平平且带着孩子的女人，而现在，她已经是英国的第二大富婆，拥有的财富比英女王还要多。当然，她同时还拥有了名望、地位和新的爱情。
　　如果说罗琳的成功充满了命运的眷顾，那么桑得斯的故事则饱含奋斗的艰辛。作为一个退役军人，桑得斯上校当过消防员，卖过保险，翻修过轮胎，开过加油站，到66岁那年，他仍然只是一个领取每月105美元生活保障的退休老人。也就是这一年，桑得斯上校开了一家小小的快餐店，这无疑是一项成功的投资，那是世界上第一家肯德基。现在，你可以在全世界看到这家快餐连锁店，和店门口桑得斯上校的身影。在华尔街，没有破产过三次以上的人不是好的投资家，因为唯有经历过失败，仍然不畏变革的人，才能成为最后的赢家。
　　二、让“青蛙”老板注意你
　　不，这不是说老板大腹便便，刮噪刺耳，而是告诉你一个小小的科学常识：青蛙只能看到运动中的物体。所以，无论如何，保持自己忙碌是第一要务。尽管你已经连续熬夜把策划书写得尽善尽美，尽管你刚刚加班加点完成两个月的工作量，你也绝对不可以作体力透支状，倒在桌子上补充睡眠。要知道，任何一个老板都愿意看到员工时刻处于无比繁忙的工作状态中。所以，不要对已经结束的工作沾沾自喜，在台子上放一两份没有完成的文件，把涂涂画画的日程表夹在电脑上，甚至把袖子卷起来，也能让你看上去更实干一些。
　　当然，如果你是躲在高高的隔断板后面忙碌，那和你偷偷泡 其实没有区别。科层制逐级负责的管理体制，使得老板对你的工作缺少了解，他对你的所有印象，可能都只来源于人力部门的汇报。所以，和老板保持沟通至关重要，让他知道你在做什么，你的想法和方案，并且提出建议。在工作中，也可以适当询问老板的意见，让他不知不觉参与到你的工作中来。
　　三、品牌你自己
　　为什么你要喝百事可乐而不是非常可乐？为什么你要穿耐克而不是匹克？为什么你老板提拔了跟你一起到公司的lucy，对经常加班到半夜的你却视而不见？因为，被选择的不仅仅是一件饮料、服饰或者某个抽象的id，还包括一点一滴建立起来的品牌内涵。对于你来说，选择百事可乐和耐克代表你认同青春的、积极的生活方式；对于老板来说，选择lucy代表投资获得稳定回报的可能。
　　新经济时代最负盛名也最具争议性的作家汤姆?彼特斯5年前就提出了“brandyou”的全新理论。他谆谆教诲说，我们每个人都是ceo，任职的公司叫做“me”，职业生涯中最大的任务，是把公司唯一的品牌“you”，打造成职场的领先品牌。你需要的是对自己的充分认识和一份清晰的品牌推广方案。盖乐普对员工说，每个人都有一件事情，做得比一万个人都好。你知道自己的优势所在吗？作为一个要着力推广的品牌，你和别人的诉求点有什么不同呢？明白自己的优势，不断强化自己的优势，才能让你成为职场里一个响当当的“名牌”。
　　四、注意每一个工作细节
　　你可以举出很多例子来反驳说，成功人士不拘小节，比如爱因斯坦。但是，不得不承认的是，更多时候细节具有决定性的力量。电梯里和老板简短的几句聊天，可能让他坚定提拔你的念头；在谈判中一个错误的用语，也许让你最后痛失快要到手的合同。完美的细节代表着永不懈怠的处事风格，正是个人品牌价值的最佳体现。
　　接***时，先主动向对方问好；打***时，先询问对方是否方便；给老板的报告里，总是精心预备一份简短的概要供快速浏览……这样的细节还有很多很多，重要的原则是，你必须成为一个积极、实干、优质的象征，你的任何言行都要与此相适应。
　　五、培养杰出的公关技巧
　　良好的公关意识向来是树立形象的优质润滑剂，更是成为职场成功者的必要条件。公关的第一原则是：善待任何人。要知道，在白领的工作圈里，没有永远的朋友，也没有永远的敌人，没有永远的上司，也没有永远的下属。生活变幻莫测，不会永远符合你的预期。被你狠狠得罪的客户，可能是你下一个老板；你颐指气使的下属，可能摇身一变成了你的上司。在你的个人品牌形象上，“温和”、“彬彬有礼”之类的标签，贴得越多越妙。
　　办公室以外的非正式场合，是沟通交流的最好场所。在非正式场合里，人们通常比较放松，不太具有戒备心理，更容易互相妥协，这就是为什么外交通常先在非正式场合展开的原因吧。和老板的沟通更是如此。升职加薪的微妙关头，搭电梯遇到老板，说上20秒钟话，却有可能彻底击败竞争对手！这可不是跟老板套套近乎就能搞定的，你看人家 job的沟通技巧：“我昨天去看过公司产品的专卖店了，顾客对产品反映不错，但是销售有一定困难。marketing部门印的单页，不是很有针对性，不像上次那么好。”短短几句话，让老板知道你在工作，拿到了第一手信息，发现了问题，还提出了建议。非正式场合几十秒的交谈，可能比一个小时辛苦汇报工作，收益还要大得多！
　　六、三分钟推销你自己
　　在塑造个人品牌的过程中，如何提升品牌认知度至关重要。要让别人在第一时间记住你，你就必须提供引人注目的细节。总是用montblanc、明快的衣着搭配、得体的幽默甚至漂亮的签名，都能让你脱颖而出。当然，每家公司里都有一个著名的糊涂虫，如果你不幸被贴上了这样的品牌，那么迅速跳槽、重新开始也许是个不错的选择。
　　过于谦虚会让人觉得信心不足，轮到你做介绍的时候，大可不必太古板老套。只要说的都是事实，就大胆推销你自己！告诉别人你的成绩和努力，利用一切出现在媒体上的机会，让现在的老板注意你，让潜在的老板被你吸引。作为一个成功个人品牌的维护者，你必须时刻在营销自己。
　　通用ceo杰克。韦尔奇的办公室里挂着一副画：非洲的大草原上，旭日初升。在每个黎明，羚羊都要从梦中惊醒，拼命奔跑，时刻警惕，来摆脱狮子的猎食；而狮子只有比羚羊跑得更快，才能让自己不被饿死。在职场中，情况同样如此。无论你是羚羊还是狮子，停顿下来就意味着职业生命的死亡。现在，开始奔跑吧。
( Thu, 23 Jun 2011 21:30:04 +0800 )
Description:
原著：E. A ie Proulx from：
E is Del Mar wakes before five, wind rocking the trailer, hi ing in around the aluminum door and window frames. The shirts hanging on a nail shudder slightly in the draft. He gets up, scratching the grey wedge of belly and pubic hair, shuffles to the gas burner, pours leftover coffee in a chi ed enamel pa the flame swathes it in blue. He tur on the tap and urinates in the sink, pulls on his shirt and jea , his worn boots, stamping the heels agai t the floor to get them full on. The wind booms down the curved length of the trailer and under its roaring pa age he can hear the scratching of fine gravel and sand. It could be bad on the highway with the horse trailer. He has to be packed and away from the place that morning. Again the ranch is on the market and they've shi ed out the last of the horses, paid everybody off the day before, the owner saying, "Give em to the real estate shark, I'm out a here," dro ing the keys in E is's hand. He might have to stay with his married daughter until he picks up another job, yet he is suffused with a se e of pleasure because Jack Twist was in his dream. The stale coffee is boiling up but he catches it before it goes over the side, pours it into a stained cup and blows on the black liquid, lets a panel of the dream slide forward. If he does not force his attention on it, it might stoke the day, rewarm that old, cold time on the mountain when they owned the world and nothing seemed wrong. The wind strikes the trailer like a load of dirt coming off a dump truck, eases, dies, leaves a temporary silence. They were raised on small, poor ranches in o osite corners of the state, Jack Twist in Lightning Flat up on the Montana border, E is del Mar from around Sage, near the Utah line, both high school dropout country boys with no pro ects, brought up to hard work and privation, both rough-ma ered, rough- oken, inured to the stoic life. E is, reared by his older brother and sister after their parents drove off the only curve on Dead Horse Road leaving them twenty-four dollars in cash and a two-mortgage ranch, a lied at age fourteen for a hardship lice e that let him make the hour-long trip from the ranch to the high school. The pickup was old, no heater, one windshield wiper and bad tire when the tra mi ion went there was no money to fix it. He had wanted to be a sophomore, felt the word carried a kind of distinction, but the truck broke down short of it, pitching him directly into ranch work. In 1963 when he met Jack Twist, E is was engaged to Alma Beers. Both Jack and E is claimed to be saving money for a small read; in E is's case that meant a tobacco can with two five-dollar bills i ide. That ring, hungry for any job, each had signed up with Farm and Ranch Employment -- they came together on paper as herder and camp tender for the same sheep operation
north of Signal. The summer range lay above the tree line on Forest Service land on Brokeback Mountain. It would be Jack Twist's second summer on the mountain, E is's first. Neither of them was twenty. They shook hands in the choky little trailer office in front of a table littered with scri led papers, a Bakelite ashtray brimming with stu . The venetian blinds hung askew and admitted a triangle of white light, the shadow of the foreman's hand moving into it. Joe Aguirre, wavy hair the color of cigarette ash and parted down the middle, gave them his point of view. "Forest Service got designated cam ites on the allotments. Them cam can be a couple a miles from where we pasture the sheep. Bad predator lo , nobody near lookin after em at night. What I want, camp tender in the main camp where the Forest Service says, but the HERDER" -- pointing at Jack with a chop of his hand -- "pitch a pup tent on the q.t. with the sheep, out a sight, and he's goin a SLEEP there. Eat su er, breakfast in camp, but SLEEP WITH THE SHEEP, hunderd percent, NO FIRE, don't leave NO SIGN. Roll up that tent every mornin case Forest Service oo around. Got the dogs, your .30-.30, sleep there. Last summer had goddamn near twenty-five percent lo . I don't want that again. YOU," he said to E is, taking in the ragged hair, the big nicked hands, the jea torn, button-gaping shirt, "Fridays twelve noon be down at the bridge with your next week list and mules. Somebody with su lies'll be there in a pickup." He didn't ask if E is had a watch but took a cheap round ticker on a braided cord from a box on a high shelf, wound and set it, to ed it to him as if he weren't worth the reach. "TOMORROW MORNIN we'll truck you up the jump-off." Pair of deuces going nowhere. They found a bar and drank beer through the afternoon, Jack telling E is about a lightning storm on the mountain the year before that killed forty-two sheep, the peculiar stink of them and the way they bloated, the need for plenty of whiskey up there. He had shot an eagle, he said, turned his head to show the tail feather in his hatband. At first glance Jack seemed fair enough with his curly hair and quick laugh, but for a small man he carried some weight in the haunch and his smile disclosed buckteeth, not pronounced enough to let him eat popcorn out of the neck of a jug, but noticeable. He was infatuated with the rodeo life and fastened his belt with a minor bull-riding buckle, but his boots were worn to the quick, holed beyond repair and he was crazy to be somewhere, anywhere else than Lightning Flat. E is, high-arched nose and narrow face, was scruffy and a little cave-chested, balanced a small torso on long, caliper legs, po e ed a muscular and su le
body made for the horse and for fighting. His reflexes were uncommonly quick and he was farsighted enough to dislike reading anything except Hamley's saddle catalog. The sheep trucks and horse trailers unloaded at the trailhead and a bandy-legged Basque showed E is how to pack the mules, two packs and a riding load on each animal ring-lashed with double diamonds and secured with half hitches, telling him, "Don't never order soup. Them boxes a soup are real bad to pack." Three pu ies belonging to one of the blue heelers went in a pack basket, the runt i ide Jack's coat, for he loved a little dog. E is picked out a big chestnut called Cigar Butt to ride, Jack a bay mare who turned out to have a low startle point. The string of are horses included a mouse-colored grullo whose looks E is liked. E is and Jack, the dogs, horses and mules, a thousand ewes and their lam flowed up the trail like dirty water through the timber and out above the tree line into the great flowery Meadows and the coursing, endle wind. They got the big tent up on the Forest Service's platform, the kitchen and grub boxes secured. Both slept in camp that first night, Jack already bitching about Joe Aguirre's sleep-with-the-sheep-and-no-fire order, though he saddled the bay mare in the dark morning without saying much. Dawn came gla y orange, stained from below by a gelatinous band of pale green. The sooty bulk of the mountain paled slowly until it was the same color as the smoke from E is's breakfast fire. The cold air sweetened, banded pe les and crum of soil cast sudden pencil-long shadows and the rearing lodgepole pines below them ma ed in sla of somber malachite. During the day E is looked acro a great gulf and sometimes saw Jack, a small dot moving acro a high meadow as an i ect moves acro a tablecloth; Jack, in his dark camp, saw E is as night fire, a red ark on the huge black ma of mountain. Jack came lagging in late one afternoon, drank his two bottles of beer cooled in a wet sack on the shady side of the tent, ate two bowls of stew, four of E is's stone biscuits, a can of peaches, rolled a smoke, watched the sun drop. "I'm commutin four hours a day," he said morosely. "Come in for breakfast, go back to the sheep, evenin get em bedded down, come in for su er, go back to the sheep, end half the night jumpin up and checkin for coyotes. By rights I should be endin the night here. Aguirre got no right a make me do this." "You want a switch?" said E is. "I wouldn't mind herdin. I wouldn't mind
sleepin out there." "That ain't the point. Point is, we both should be in this camp. And that goddamn pup tent smells like cat pi or worse." "Wouldn't mind bein out there." "Tell you what, you got a get up a dozen times in the night out there over them coyotes. Ha y to switch but give you warnin I can't cook worth a shit. Pretty good with a can opener." "Can't be no worse than me, then. Sure, I wouldn't mind a do it." They fended off the night for an hour with the yellow kerosene lamp and around ten E is rode Cigar Butt, a good night horse, through the glimmering frost back to the sheep, carrying leftover biscuits, a jar of jam and a jar of coffee with him for the next day saying he'd save a trip, stay out until su er. "Shot a coyote just first light," he told Jack the next evening, sloshing his face with hot water, lathering up soap and hoping his razor had some cut left in it, while Jack peeled potatoes. "Big son of a bitch. Balls on him size a a les. I bet he'd took a few lam . Looked like he could a eat a camel. You want some a this hot water? There's plenty." "It's all yours." "Well, I'm goin a warsh everthing I can reach," he said, pulling off his boots and jea (no drawers, no socks, Jack noticed), slo ing the green washcloth around until the fire at. They had a high-time su er by the fire, a can of bea each, fried potatoes and a quart of whiskey on shares, sat with their backs agai t a log, boot soles and co er jea rivets hot, swa ing the bottle while the lavender sky emptied of color and the chill air drained down, drinking, smoking cigarettes, getting up every now and then to pi , firelight throwing a arkle in the arched stream, to ing sticks on the fire to keep the talk going, talking horses and rodeo, roughstock events, wrecks and injuries sustained, the submarine Thresher lost two months earlier with all hands and how it must have been in the last doomed minutes, dogs each had owned and known, the draft, Jack's home ranch where his father and mother held on, E is's family place folded years ago after his folks died, the older brother in Signal and a married sister in Ca er. Jack said
his father had been a pretty well known bullrider years back but kept his secrets to himself, never gave Jack a word of advice, never came once to see Jack ride, though he had put him on the woolies when he was a little kid. E is said the kind of riding that interested him lasted longer than eight seconds and had some point to it. Money's a good point, said Jack, and E is had to agree. They were re ectful of each other's opinio , each glad to have a companion where none had been expected. E is, riding agai t the wind back to the sheep in the treacherous, drunken light, thought he'd never had such a good time, felt he could paw the white out of the moon. The summer went on and they moved the herd to new pasture, shifted the cam the distance between the sheep and the new camp was greater and the night ride longer. E is rode easy, sleeping with his eyes open, but the hours he was away from the sheep stretched out and out. Jack pulled a squalling burr out of the harmonica, flattened a little from a fall off the skittish bay mare, and E is had a good ra y voice; a few nights they mangled their way through some songs. E is knew the salty words to "Strawberry Roan." Jack tried a Carl Perki song, bawling "what I say-ay-ay," but he favored a sad hymn, "Water-Walking Jesus," learned from his mother who believed in the Pentecost, that he sang at dirge slowne , setting off distant coyote yi .
"Too late to go out to them damn sheep," said E is, dizzy drunk on all fours one cold hour when the moon had notched past two. The meadow stones glowed white-green and a flinty wind worked over the meadow, scraped the fire low, then ruffled it into yellow silk sashes. "Got you a extra blanket I'll roll up out here and grab forty winks, ride out at first light."
"Freeze your a off when that fire dies down. Better off sleepin in the tent."
"Doubt I'll feel nothin." But he staggered under canvas, pulled his boots off, ored on the ground cloth for a while, woke Jack with the clacking of his jaw.
"Jesus Christ, quit hammerin and get over here. Bedroll's big enough," said Jack in an irritable sleep-clogged voice. It was big enough, warm enough, and in a little while they deepened their intimacy co iderably. E is ran full-throttle on all roads whether fence mending or money ending, and he wanted none of it when Jack seized his left hand and brought it to his erect cock. E is jerked his hand away as though he'd touched fire, got to his knees, u uckled his belt, shoved his pants down, hauled Jack onto all fours and, with the help of the clear slick and a little it, entered him, nothing he'd done before but no i truction manual needed. They went at it in silence except for a few sharp intakes of breath and Jack's choked "gun's goin off," then out, down, and
asleep.
E is woke in red dawn with his pants around his knees, a top-grade headache, and Jack butted agai t him; without saying anything about it both knew how it would go for the rest of the summer, sheep be damned.
As it did go. They never talked about the sex, let it ha en, at first only in the tent at night, then in the full daylight with the hot sun striking down, and at evening in the fire glow, quick, rough, laughing and orting, no lack of noises, but saying not a goddamn word except once E is said, "I'm not no queer," and Jack jumped in with "Me neither. A one-shot thing. Nobody's busine but ours." There were only the two of them on the mountain flying in the euphoric, bitter air, looking down on the hawk's back and the crawling lights of vehicles on the plain below, su ended above ordinary affairs and distant from tame ranch dogs barking in the dark hours. They believed themselves invisible, not knowing Joe Aguirre had watched them through his 10x42 binoculars for ten minutes one day, waiting until they'd buttoned up their jea , waiting until E is rode back to the sheep, before bringing up the me age that Jack's people had sent word that his uncle Harold was in the ho ital with eumonia and expected not to make it. Though he did, and Aguirre came up again to say so, fixing Jack with his bold stare, not bothering to dismount.
In August E is ent the whole night with Jack in the main camp and in a blowy hailstorm the sheep took off west and got among a herd in another allotment. There was a damn miserable time for five days, E is and a Chilean herder with no English trying to sort them out, the task almost impo ible as the paint brands were worn and faint at this late season. Even when the numbers were right E is knew the sheep were mixed. In a disquieting way everything seemed mixed.
The first ow came early, on August thirteenth, piling up a foot, but was followed by a quick melt. The next week Joe Aguirre sent word to bring them down -- another, bigger storm was moving in from the Pacific -- and they packed in the game and moved off the mountain with the sheep, stones rolling at their heels, purple cloud crowding in from the west and the metal smell of coming ow pre ing them on. The mountain boiled with demonic energy, glazed with flickering broken-cloud light, the wind combed the gra and drew from the damaged krummholz and slit rock a bestial drone. As they descended the slope E is felt he was in a slow-motion, but headlong, irreversible fall.
Joe Aguirre paid them, said little. He had looked at the milling sheep with a sour
expre ion, said, "Some a these never went up there with you." The count was not what he'd hoped for either. Ranch stiffs never did much of a job.
"You goin a do this next summer?" said Jack to E is in the street, one leg already up in his green pickup. The wind was gusting hard and cold.
"Maybe not." A dust plume rose and hazed the air with fine grit and he squinted agai t it. "Like I said, Alma and me's gettin married in December. Try to get somethin on a ranch. You?" He looked away from Jack's jaw, bruised blue from the hard punch E is had thrown him on the last day.
"If nothin better comes along. Thought some about going back up to my daddy's place, give him a hand over the winter, then maybe head out for Texas in the ring. If the draft don't get me."
"Well, see you around, I gue ." The wind tumbled an empty feed bag down the street until it fetched up under his truck.
"Right," said Jack, and they shook hands, hit each other on the shoulder, then there was forty feet of distance between them and nothing to do but drive away in o osite directio . Within a mile E is felt like someone was pulling his guts out hand over hand a yard at a time. He sto ed at the side of the road and, in the whirling new ow, tried to puke but nothing came up. He felt about as bad as he ever had and it took a long time for the feeling to wear off.
In December E is married Alma Beers and had her pregnant by mid-January. He picked up a few short-lived ranch jo , then settled in as a wrangler on the old Elwood Hi-Top place north of Lost Cabin in Washakie County. He was still working there in September when Alma Jr., as he called his daughter, was born and their bedroom was full of the smell of old blood and milk and baby shit, and the sounds were of squalling and sucking and Alma's sleepy groa , all rea uring of fecundity and life's continuance to one who worked with livestock.
When the Hi-Top folded they moved to a small apartment in Riverton up over a laundry. E is got on the highway crew, tolerating it but working weekends at the Rafter B in exchange for keeping his horses out there. The second girl was born and Alma wanted to stay in town near the clinic because the child had an asthmatic wheeze.
"E is, please, no more damn lonesome ranches for us," she said, sitting on his lap, wra ing her thin, freckled arms around him. "Let's get a place here in
"I gue ," said E is, sli ing his hand up her blouse sleeve and stirring the silky armpit hair, then easing her down, fingers moving up her ri to the jelly breast, over the round belly and knee and up into the wet gap all the way to the north pole or the equator depending which way you thought you were sailing, working at it until she shuddered and bucked agai t his hand and he rolled her over, did quickly what she hated. They stayed in the little apartment which he favored because it could be left at any time.
The fourth summer since Brokeback Mountain came on and in June E is had a general delivery letter from Jack Twist, the first sign of life in all that time.
Friend this letter is a long time over due. Hope you get it. Heard you was in Riverton. Im coming thru on the 24th, thought Id stop and buy you a beer Drop me a line if you can, say if your there.
The return addre was Childre , Texas. E is wrote back, you bet, gave the Riverton addre .
The day was hot and clear in the morning, but by noon the clouds had pushed up out of the west rolling a little sultry air before them. E is, wearing his best shirt, white with wide black stripes, didn't know what time Jack would get there and so had taken the day off, paced back and forth, looking down into a street pale with dust. Alma was saying something about taking his friend to the Knife &am Fork for su er i tead of cooking it was so hot, if they could get a baby-sitter, but E is said more likely he'd just go out with Jack and get drunk. Jack was not a restaurant type, he said, thinking of the dirty oo sticking out of the ca of cold bea balanced on the log.
Late in the afternoon, thunder growling, that same old green pickup rolled in and he saw Jack get out of the truck, beat-up Resistol tilted back. A hot jolt scalded E is and he was out on the landing pulling the door closed behind him. Jack took the stairs two and two. They seized each other by the shoulders, hugged mightily, squeezing the breath out of each other, saying, son of a bitch, son of a bitch, then, and easily as the right key tur the lock tumblers, their mouths came together, and hard, Jack's big teeth bringing blood, his hat falling to the floor, stu le ra ing, wet saliva welling, and the door opening and Alma looking out for a few seconds at E is's straining shoulders and shutting the door again and still they clinched, pre ing chest and groin and thigh and leg together, treading on each other's toes until they pulled apart to breathe and
E is, not big on endearments, said what he said to his horses and daughters, little darlin.
The door opened again a few inches and Alma stood in the narrow light.
What could he say? "Alma, this is Jack Twist, Jack, my wife Alma." His chest was heaving. He could smell Jack -- the inte ely familiar odor of cigarettes, musky sweat and a faint sweetne like gra , and with it the rushing cold of the mountain. "Alma," he said, "Jack and me ain't seen each other in four years." As if it were a reason. He was glad the light was dim on the landing but did not turn away from her.
"Sure enough," said Alma in a low voice. She had seen what she had seen. Behind her in the room lightning lit the window like a white sheet waving and the baby cried.
"You got a kid?" said Jack. His shaking hand grazed E is's hand, electrical current a ed between them.
"Two little girls," E is said. "Alma Jr. and Francine. Love them to pieces." Alma's mouth twitched.
"I got a boy," said Jack. "Eight months old. Tell you what, I married a cute little old Texas girl down in Childre -- Lureen." From the vibration of the floorboard on which they both stood E is could feel how hard Jack was shaking.
"Alma," he said. "Jack and me is goin out and get a drink. Might not get back tonight, we get drinkin and talkin."
"Sure enough," Alma said, taking a dollar bill from her pocket. E is gue ed she was going to ask him to get her a pack of cigarettes, bring him back sooner.
"Please to meet you," said Jack, trembling like a run-out horse.
"E is -- " said Alma in her misery voice, but that didn't slow him down on the stairs and he called back, "Alma, you want smokes there's some in the pocket a my blue shirt in the bedroom."
They went off in Jack's truck, bought a bottle of whiskey and within twenty minutes were in the Motel Siesta jouncing a bed. A few handfuls of hail rattled agai t the window followed by rain and sli ery wind banging the u ecured door of the next room then and through the night.
The room stank of semen and smoke and sweat and whiskey, of old carpet and sour hay, saddle leather, shit and cheap soap. E is lay read-eagled, ent and wet, breathing deep, still half tumescent, Jack blowing forceful cigarette clouds like whale outs, and Jack said, "Christ, it got a be all that time a yours ahorseback makes it so goddamn good. We got to talk about this. Swear to god I didn't know we was goin a get into this again -- yeah, I did. Why I'm here. I fuckin knew it. Redlined all the way, couldn't get here fast enough." "I didn't know where in the hell you was," said E is. "Four years. I about give up on you. I figured you was sore about that punch." "Friend," said Jack, "I was in Texas rodeoin. How I met Lureen. Look over on that chair." On the back of the soiled orange chair he saw the shine of a buckle. "Bullridin?" "Yeah. I made three fuckin thousand dollars that year. Fuckin starved. Had to borrow everthing but a toothbrush from other guys. Drove grooves acro Texas. Half the time under that cunt truck fixin it. Anyway, I didn't never think about losin. Lureen? There's some serious money there. Her old man's got it. Got this farm machinery busine . Course he don't let her have none a the money, and he hates my fuckin guts, so it's a hard go now but one a these days -- " "Well, you're goin a go where you look. Army didn't get you?" The thunder sounded far to the east, moving from them in its red wreaths of light. "They can't get no use out a me. Got some crushed vertebrates. And a stre fracture, the arm bone here, you know how bullridin you're always leverin it off your thigh? -- she gives a little ever time you do it. Even if you tape it good you break it a little goddamn bit at a time. Tell you what, hurts like a bitch afterwards. Had a busted leg. Busted in three places. Come off the bull and it was a big bull with a lot a drop, he got rid a me in about three flat and he come after me and he was sure faster. Lucky enough. Friend a mine got his oil checked with a horn di tick and that was all she wrote. Bunch a other things, fuckin busted ri , rai and pai , torn ligaments. See, it ain't like it was in my daddy's time. It's guys with money go to college, trained athaletes. You got a have some money to rodeo now. Lureen's old man wouldn't give me a dime if I dro ed it, except one way. And I know enough about the game now so I see that I ain't never goin a be on the bu le. Other reaso . I'm gettin out while I
still can walk." E is pulled Jack's hand to his mouth, took a hit from the cigarette, exhaled. "Sure as hell seem in one piece to me. You know, I was sittin up here all that time tryin to figure out if I was -- ? I know I ain't. I mean here we both got wives and kids, right? I like doin it with women, yeah, but Jesus H., ain't nothin like this. I never had no thoughts a doin it with another guy except I sure wrang it out a hunderd times thinkin about you. You do it with other guys? Jack?" "Shit no," said Jack, who had been riding more than bulls, not rolling his own. "You know that. Old Brokeback got us good and it sure ain't over. We got a work out what the fuck we're goin a do now." "That summer," said E is. "When we lit up after we got paid out I had gut cram so bad I pulled over and tried to puke, thought I ate somethin bad at that place in Dubois. Took me about a year a figure out it was that I shouldn't a let you out a my sights. Too late then by a long, long while." "Friend," said Jack. "We got us a fuckin situation here. Got a figure out what to do." "I doubt there's nothin now we can do," said E is. "What I'm sayin, Jack, I built a life up in them years. Love my little girls. Alma? It ain't her fault. You got your baby and wife, that place in Texas. You and me can't hardly be decent together if what ha ened back there" -- he jerked his head in the direction of the apartment -- "gra on us like that. We do that in the wrong place we'll be dead. There's no rei on this one. It scares the pi out a me." "Got to tell you, friend, maybe somebody seen us that summer. I was back there the next June, thinkin about goin back -- I didn't, lit out for Texas i tead -- and Joe Aguirre's in the office and he says to me, he says, 'You boys found a way to make the time pa up there, didn't you,' and I give him a look but when I went out I seen he had a big-a pair a binoculars hangin off his rearview." He neglected to add that the foreman had leaned back in his squeaky wooden tilt chair, said, Twist, you guys wa 't gettin paid to leave the dogs baby-sit the sheep while you stemmed the rose, and declined to rehire him. He went on, "Yeah, that little punch a yours surprised me. I never figured you to throw a dirty punch." "I come up under my brother K.E., three years older'n me, slugged me silly ever day. Dad got tired a me come bawlin in the house and when I was about six he set me down and says, E is, you got a problem and you got a fix it or it's go a be with you until you're ninety and K.E.'s
ninety-three. Well, I says, he's bigger'n me. Dad says, you got a take him unawares, don't say nothin to him, make him feel some pain, get out fast and keep doin it until he takes the me age. Nothin like hurtin somebody to make him hear good. So I did. I got him in the outhouse, jumped him on the stairs, come over to his pillow in the night while he was sleepin and pasted him damn good. Took about two days. Never had trouble with K.E. since. The le on was, don't say nothin and get it over with quick." A telephone rang in the next room, rang on and on, sto ed abruptly in mid-peal.
"You won't catch me again," said Jack. "Listen. I'm thinkin, tell you what, if you and me had a little ranch together, little cow and calf operation, your horses, it'd be some sweet life. Like I said, I'm gettin out a rodeo. I ain't no broke-dick rider but I don't got the bucks a ride out this slump I'm in and I don't got the bones a keep gettin wrecked. I got it figured, got this plan, E is, how we can do it, you and me. Lureen's old man, you bet he'd give me a bunch if I'd get lost. Already more or le said it -- "
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. It ain't goin a be that way. We can't. I'm stuck with what I got, caught in my own loop. Can't get out of it. Jack, I don't want a be like them guys you see around sometimes. And I don't want a be dead. There was these two old guys ranched together down home, Earl and Rich -- Dad would pa a remark when he seen them. They was a joke even though they was pretty tough old birds. I was what, nine years old and they found Earl dead in a irrigation ditch. They'd took a tire iron to him, urred him up, drug him around by his dick until it pulled off, just bloody pulp. What the tire iron done looked like pieces a burned tomatoes all over him, nose tore down from skiddin on gravel."
"You seen that?"
"Dad made sure I seen it. Took me to see it. Me and K.E. Dad laughed about it. Hell, for all I know he done the job. If he was alive and was to put his head in that door right now you bet he'd go get his tire iron. Two guys livin together? No. All I can see is we get together once in a while way the hell out in the back a nowhere -- "
"How much is once in a while?" said Jack. "Once in a while ever four fuckin years?"
"No," said E is, forbearing to ask whose fault that was. "I goddamn hate it that you're goin a drive away in the mornin and I'm goin back to work. But if you can't fix it you got a stand it," he said. "Shit. I been lookin at people on the
street. This ha en a other people? What the hell do they do?"
"It don't ha en in Wyomin and if it does I don't know what they do, maybe go to Denver," said Jack, sitting up, turning away from him, "and I don't give a flyin fuck. Son of a bitch, E is, take a couple days off. Right now. Get us out a here. Throw your stuff in the back a my truck and let's get up in the mountai . Couple a days. Call Alma up and tell her you're goin. Come on, E is, you just shot my airplane out a the sky -- give me somethin a go on. This ain't no little thing that's ha enin here."
The hollow ringing began again in the next room, and as if he were a wering it, E is picked up the phone on the bedside table, dialed his own number.
A slow corrosion worked between E is and Alma, no real trouble, just widening water. She was working at a grocery store clerk job, saw she'd always have to work to keep ahead of the bills on what E is made. Alma asked E is to use ru ers because she dreaded another pregnancy. He said no to that, said he would be ha y to leave her alone if she didn't want any more of his kids. Under her breath she said, "I'd have em if you'd su ort em." And under that, thought, anyway, what you like to do don't make too many babies.
Her resentment opened out a little every year: the embrace she had glim ed, E is's fishing tri once or twice a year with Jack Twist and never a vacation with her and the girls, his disinclination to step out and have any fun, his yearning for low paid, long-houred ranch work, his prope ity to roll to the wall and sleep as soon as he hit the bed, his failure to look for a decent permanent job with the county or the power company, put her in a long, slow dive and when Alma Jr. was nine and Francine seven she said, what am I doin hangin around with him, divorced E is and married the Riverton grocer.
E is went back to ranch work, hired on here and there, not getting much ahead but glad enough to be around stock again, free to drop things, quit if he had to, and go into the mountai at short notice. He had no serious hard feelings, just a vague se e of getting shortchanged, and showed it was all right by taking Thanksgiving di er with Alma and her grocer and the kids, sitting between his girls and talking horses to them, telling jokes, trying not to be a sad daddy. After the pie Alma got him off in the kitchen, scraped the plates and said she worried about him and he ought to get married again. He saw she was pregnant, about four, five months, he gue ed.
"Once burned," he said, leaning agai t the counter, feeling too big for the
"You still go fishin with that Jack Twist?"
"Some." He thought she'd take the pattern off the plate with the scraping.
"You know," she said, and from her tone he knew something was coming, "I used to wonder how come you never brought any trouts home. Always said you caught plenty. So one time I got your creel case open the night before you went on one a your little tri -- price tag still on it after five years -- and I tied a note on the end of the line. It said, hello E is, bring some fish home, love, Alma. And then you come back and said you'd caught a bunch a brow and ate them up. Remember? I looked in the case when I got a chance and there was my note still tied there and that line hadn't touched water in its life." As though the word "water" had called out its domestic cousin she twisted the faucet, sluiced the plates.
"That don't mean nothin."
"Don't lie, don't try to fool me, E is. I know what it mea . Jack Twist? Jack Nasty. You and him -- "
She'd overste ed his line. He seized her wrist; tears rang and rolled, a dish clattered.
"Shut up," he said. "Mind your own busine . You don't know nothin about it."
"I'm goin a yell for Bill."
"You fuckin go right ahead. Go on and fuckin yell. I'll make him eat the fuckin floor and you too." He gave another wrench that left her with a burning bracelet, shoved his hat on backwards and slammed out. He went to the Black and Blue Eagle bar that night, got drunk, had a short dirty fight and left. He didn't try to see his girls for a long time, figuring they would look him up when they got the se e and years to move out from Alma.
They were no longer young men with all of it before them. Jack had filled out through the shoulders and hams, E is stayed as lean as a clothes-pole, ste ed around in worn boots, jea and shirts summer and winter, added a canvas coat in cold weather. A benign growth a eared on his eyelid and gave it a drooping a earance, a broken nose healed crooked.
Years on years they worked their way through the high meadows and mountain drainages, horse-packing into the Big Hor , Medicine Bows, south end of the Gallati , A arokas, Granites, Owl Creeks, the Bridger-Teton Range, the Freezeouts and the Shirleys, Ferrises and the Rattle akes, Salt River Range, into the Wind Rivers over and again, the Sierra Madres, Gros Ventres, the Washakies, Laramies, but never returning to Brokeback.
Down in Texas Jack's father-in-law died and Lureen, who inherited the farm equipment busine , showed a skill for management and hard deals. Jack found himself with a vague managerial title, traveling to stock and agricultural machinery shows. He had some money now and found ways to end it on his buying tri . A little Texas accent flavored his sentences, "cow" twisted into "kyow" and "wife" coming out as "waf." He'd had his front teeth filed down and ca ed, said he'd felt no pain, and to finish the job grew a heavy mustache.
In May of 1983 they ent a few cold days at a series of little icebound, no-name high lakes, then worked acro into the Hail Strew River drainage.
Going up, the day was fine but the trail deep-drifted and slo ing wet at the margi . They left it to wind through a slashy cut, leading the horses through brittle branchwood, Jack, the same eagle feather in his old hat, lifting his head in the heated noon to take the air scented with resinous lodgepole, the dry needle duff and hot rock, bitter juniper crushed beneath the horses' hooves. E is, weather-eyed, looked west for the heated cumulus that might come up on such a day but the bonele blue was so deep, said Jack, that he might drown looking up.
Around three they swung through a narrow pa to a southeast slope where the strong ring sun had had a chance to work, dro ed down to the trail again which lay owle below them. They could hear the river muttering and making a distant train sound a long way off. Twenty minutes on they surprised a black bear on the bank above them rolling a log over for gru and Jack's horse shied and reared, Jack saying "Wo! Wo!" and E is's bay dancing and orting but holding. Jack reached for the .30-.06 but there was no need; the startled bear galloped into the trees with the lumpish gait that made it seem it was falling apart.
The tea-colored river ran fast with owmelt, a scarf of bu les at every high rock, pools and setbacks streaming. The ochre-branched willows swayed stiffly, pollened catki like yellow thum rints. The horses drank and Jack
dismounted, scooped icy water up in his hand, crystalline dro falling from his fingers, his mouth and chin glistening with wet.
"Get beaver fever doin that," said E is, then, "Good enough place," looking at the level bench above the river, two or three fire-rings from old hunting cam . A sloping meadow rose behind the bench, protected by a stand of lodgepole. There was plenty of dry wood. They set up camp without saying much, picketed the horses in the meadow. Jack broke the seal on a bottle of whiskey, took a long, hot swallow, exhaled forcefully, said, "That's one a the two things I need right now," ca ed and to ed it to E is.
On the third morning there were the clouds E is had expected, a grey racer out of the west, a bar of darkne driving wind before it and small flakes. It faded after an hour into tender ring ow that heaped wet and heavy. By nightfall it turned colder. Jack and E is pa ed a joint back and forth, the fire burning late, Jack restle and bitching about the cold, poking the flames with a stick, twisting the dial of the tra istor radio until the batteries died.
E is said he'd been putting the blocks to a woman who worked part-time at the Wolf Ears bar in Signal where he was working now for Stoutamire's cow and calf outfit, but it wa 't going anywhere and she had some problems he didn't want. Jack said he'd had a thing going with the wife of a rancher down the road in Childre and for the last few months he'd slank around expecting to get shot by Lureen or the hu and, one. E is laughed a little and said he probably deserved it. Jack said he was doing all right but he mi ed E is bad enough sometimes to make him whip babies.
The horses nickered in the darkne beyond the fire's circle of light. E is put his arm around Jack, pulled him close, said he saw his girls about once a month, Alma Jr. a shy seventeen-year-old with his bea ole length, Francine a little live wire. Jack slid his cold hand between E is's legs, said he was worried about his boy who was, no doubt about it, dyslexic or something, couldn't get anything right, fifteen years old and couldn't hardly read, he could see it though goddamn Lureen wouldn't admit to it and pretended the kid was o.k., refused to get any bitchin kind a help about it. He didn't know what the fuck the a wer was. Lureen had the money and called the shots.
"I used a want a boy for a kid," said E is, undoing butto , "but just got little girls."
"I didn't want none a either kind," said Jack. "But fuck-all has worked the way I wanted. Nothin never come to my hand the right way." Without getting up he
threw deadwood on the fire, the arks flying up with their truths and lies, a few hot points of fire landing on their hands and faces, not for the first time, and they rolled down into the dirt. One thing never changed: the brilliant charge of their infrequent couplings was darkened by the se e of time flying, never enough time, never enough.
A day or two later in the trailhead parking lot, horses loaded into the trailer, E is was ready to head back to Signal, Jack up to Lightning Flat to see the old man. E is leaned into Jack's window, said what he'd been putting off the whole week, that likely he couldn't get away again until November after they'd shi ed stock and before winter feeding started.
"November. What in hell ha ened a August? Tell you what, we said August, nine, ten days. Christ, E is! Whyn't you tell me this before? You had a fuckin week to say some little word about it. And why's it we're always in the friggin cold weather? We ought a do somethin. We ought a go south. We ought a go to Mexico one day."
"Mexico? Jack, you know me. All the travelin I ever done is goin around the coffeepot lookin for the handle. And I'll be ru in the baler all August, that's what's the matter with August. Lighten up, Jack. We can hunt in November, kill a nice elk. Try if I can get Don Wroe's cabin again. We had a good time that year."
"You know, friend, this is a goddamn bitch of a u atisfactory situation. You used a come away easy. It's like seein the pope now."
"Jack, I got a work. Them earlier days I used a quit the jo . You got a wife with money, a good job. You forget how it is bein broke all the time. You ever hear a child su ort? I been payin out for years and got more to go. Let me tell you, I can't quit this one. And I can't get the time off. It was tough gettin this time -- some a them late heifers is still calvin. You don't leave then. You don't. Stoutamire is a hell-raiser and he raised hell about me takin the week. I don't blame him. He probly ain't got a night's sleep since I left. The trade-off was August. You got a better idea?"
"I did once." The tone was bitter and accusatory.
E is said nothing, straightened up slowly, ru ed at his forehead; a horse stamped i ide the trailer. He walked to his truck, put his hand on the trailer, said something that only the horses could hear, turned and walked back at a
deliberate pace.
"You been a Mexico, Jack?" Mexico was the place. He'd heard. He was cutting fence now, tre a ing in the shoot-em zone.
"Hell yes, I been. Where's the fuckin problem?" Braced for it all these years and here it came, late and unexpected.
"I got a say this to you one time, Jack, and I ain't foolin. What I don't know," said E is, "all them things I don't know could get you killed if I should come to know them."
"Try this one," said Jack, "and I'll say it just one time. Tell you what, we could a had a good life together, a fuckin real good life. You wouldn't do it, E is, so what we got now is Brokeback Mountain. Everthing built on that. It's all we got, boy, fuckin all, so I hope you know that if you don't never know the rest. Count the damn few times we been together in twenty years. Measure the fuckin short leash you keep me on, then ask me about Mexico and then tell me you'll kill me for needin it and not hardly never gettin it. You got no fuckin idea how bad it gets. I'm not you. I can't make it on a couple a high-altitude fucks once or twice a year. You're too much for me, E is, you son of a whoreson bitch. I wish I knew how to quit you."
Like vast clouds of steam from thermal rings in winter the years of things u aid and now u ayable -- admi io , declaratio , shames, guilts, fears -- rose around them. E is stood as if heart-shot, face grey and deep-lined, grimacing, eyes screwed shut, fists clenched, legs caving, hit the ground on his knees. "Jesus," said Jack. "E is?" But before he was out of the truck, trying to gue if it was heart attack or the overflow of an incendiary rage, E is was back on his feet and somehow, as a coat hanger is straightened to open a locked car and then bent again to its original shape, they torqued things almost to where they had been, for what they'd said was no news. Nothing ended, nothing begun, nothing resolved.
What Jack remembered and craved in a way he could neither help nor understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when E is had come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some shared and sexle hunger.
They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its burning to ing
ruddy chunks of light, the shadow of their bodies a single column agai t the rock. The minutes ticked by from the round watch in E is's pocket, from the sticks in the fire settling into coals. Stars bit through the wavy heat layers above the fire. E is's breath came slow and quiet, he hummed, rocked a little in the arklight and Jack leaned agai t the steady heartbeat, the vibratio of the humming like faint electricity and, standing, he fell into sleep that was not sleep but something else drowsy and tranced until E is, dredging up a rusty but still useable phrase from the childhood time before his mother died, said, "Time to hit the hay, cowboy. I got a go. Come on, you're sleepin on your feet like a horse," and gave Jack a shake, a push, and went off in the darkne . Jack heard his urs tremble as he mounted, the words "see you tomorrow