The Secret Life of a Real Halloweener [Interview]

The Secret Life of a Real Halloweener [Interview] Something unbelievable happened right the week before Halloween! Searching the internet weve bumped into the real Halloween idolator. Yup, he does exist. His favourite holiday is Halloween and not without reason. Apart from being a Halloween fan, Jonathan Wojcik is an artist, a toy collector, an armchair biologist and owns a monstrous blog. So, this extraordinary person is our next interviewee and we are going to find out as much as we can about his unusual Halloween philosophy. And if you missed our previous interview about Halloween with Katy Gilroy, dont forget to read it right after you finish with this interview! What to start with? Lets start from the very beginning, actually! How did you happen to become the fan of Halloween? I was born on Halloween, and all my life took an interest in strange creatures, whether fantasy monsters or real-world insects and marine life. Its just been that way as long as I can remember! Now, its clear. Halloweener by birth! I guess, your attitude to the celebration is different from others. What do you think is the main idea of Halloween? People have always enjoyed things that scare them, especially children. Halloween is a celebration of horror and fear, which are as important to almost every aspect of human culture as anything else could be. Entire civilizations revolved around the mysteries of death and the supernatural, and ghost stories are one of the oldest narrative genres known to man. Have you noticed some evolution of Halloween celebration through the years? Did you like the old traditions better? Or do you find some new trends more interesting? Halloween has grown a lot in popularity since I was a kid. Its much more often celebrated by adults than it was just twenty some years ago, although many forms of celebration have strayed from what made it so fun in the first place. Adult costumes tend to be either sexy or an attempt at humor these days, or pop-culture references. Dressing up to look cool, creative and scary is a rarer art. What was the most memorable Halloween celebration for you so far? Probably, just trick or treating as a child. I had to be taken to other towns because we lived in the middle of nowhere, and I always had the most elaborate, creepy outfits most houses had seen. I always picked out the big, freaky monster masks and combined them with a lot of other things, like real bones and tattered cloth. I am sure you dressed up a lot, but can you remember your best and favourite Halloween costume? Only last year I made a full-body brain creature with giant eye stalksI just didnt really have anywhere to take it. Lets move from the costumes to the places. What do you think is the best city to celebrate Halloween? I love the haunted houses and hayrides in Maryland and Pennsylvania where I grew up. Otherwise, I havent often had the chance to attend any big, public celebrations. And the food do you have your favourite Halloween food? Reeses Peanut Butter Cups are my favorite year round, but the Peanut Butter Pumpkins are even better. Theyre plumper, with a higher peanut butter to chocolate ratio. Now, reveal us some of your personal Halloween traditions. You must have those, unique and different from common ones? Beside doing articles and artwork online, I have a tiny little coffin decoration that opens up to show a skeleton inside. I leave it closed until August 1st, which is the start of Halloween season for me, and close it back again in November. As youve already mentioned the artwork what kind of Halloween craft do you make? And what is your favourite kind of Halloween art? I have a method of making gooey monster sculptures out of insulation foam. They were even featured in an art show once! I may be sharing the process soon as a seasonal blog post. Sounds awesome! So, you make up a lot (like, thousands) of spooky characters. Do you have your favourite monster? Every iteration, reinterpretation, homage and parody to The Fly. Flies are possibly my favorite animal with their weird looks and habits, and theyre so unlike humans that mashing them together always results in something weird and fun. And the final question is simple what are your plans for the upcoming Halloween? This year I debuted a new comic online and will be sharing some special art and writing on Halloween itself. Otherwise I think I was invited to a party, but Im not a huge party person. Mostly, I like to stay in and watch horror cartoons! Thanks, Jonathan, for sharing your unique view on the Halloween phenomenon! Got interested in Jonathans Halloween artworks? You are welcome to leave comments, ask questions and suggest ideas below!

Free Essays on Sampls Gre Essay

â€Å"The function of science is to reassure; the purpose of art is to upset. There lies the value of each.† Though it is detrimental to attribute specific functions and purposes to knowledge, especially at higher level of understanding, since both science and art form the same sphere of knowledge, the issue at hand is certainly some worth contemplating. Indeed, the function of science is reassure and the purpose of art is, to some extent, upset. Hence each has its own worth albeit in a limited way. Science, in one sense, has the meaning of 'knowledge' accumulated from experience. In other sense, it is the pursuit of truth behind the phenomena through experimentation and study. The very genesis of science upholds these definitions. In the primordial stages of human civilizations, eastern or western, man was intrigued by the phenomena of nature such as lightening, earthquakes etc. These phenomena, as they were mysteries to the man of those times, remained dreadful to man. Man, the rational animal, honed his intellect to get emboldened and gain vigor. The rationalization for these phenomena resulted ultimately in philosophy and understanding of these resulted in science. Thus, the very purpose of science has been and is to remove the fears of man about the 'unexplained'. The concept of electricity has removed the fear of lightning, and the concept of human morphology and medicine and that of disease are a few examples. Quite surprisingly, the value of science gets tainted once it starts threatening. The unwanted by-products of science such as pollution, nuclear weapons, and destruction to environment countermand the very purpose for which science has been rightfully created. None can deny the fact that this perversion of science has diluted the value of it. It is quite evident that science is now a tool that creates fear instead of removing it. On the other hand, art has altogether a different reason to be cr... Free Essays on Sampls Gre Essay Free Essays on Sampls Gre Essay â€Å"The function of science is to reassure; the purpose of art is to upset. There lies the value of each.† Though it is detrimental to attribute specific functions and purposes to knowledge, especially at higher level of understanding, since both science and art form the same sphere of knowledge, the issue at hand is certainly some worth contemplating. Indeed, the function of science is reassure and the purpose of art is, to some extent, upset. Hence each has its own worth albeit in a limited way. Science, in one sense, has the meaning of 'knowledge' accumulated from experience. In other sense, it is the pursuit of truth behind the phenomena through experimentation and study. The very genesis of science upholds these definitions. In the primordial stages of human civilizations, eastern or western, man was intrigued by the phenomena of nature such as lightening, earthquakes etc. These phenomena, as they were mysteries to the man of those times, remained dreadful to man. Man, the rational animal, honed his intellect to get emboldened and gain vigor. The rationalization for these phenomena resulted ultimately in philosophy and understanding of these resulted in science. Thus, the very purpose of science has been and is to remove the fears of man about the 'unexplained'. The concept of electricity has removed the fear of lightning, and the concept of human morphology and medicine and that of disease are a few examples. Quite surprisingly, the value of science gets tainted once it starts threatening. The unwanted by-products of science such as pollution, nuclear weapons, and destruction to environment countermand the very purpose for which science has been rightfully created. None can deny the fact that this perversion of science has diluted the value of it. It is quite evident that science is now a tool that creates fear instead of removing it. On the other hand, art has altogether a different reason to be cr...

Collective Bargaining and Unions Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words

Collective Bargaining and Unions - Essay Example Traditionally, trade unions were very powerful in championing employee rights hence were viewed as adversaries by the management but nowadays the management has realised the need to partner with them. Though collective bargaining is an effective way of ensuring favourable working conditions, the employment context has changed and new ways of handling employee issues have emerged such as the human resource management approach which views workers as assets hence partnering with them in realisation of the organization aims (Wilton, 2011). The question that begs an answer is; which is the most appropriate approach to employment relations in a dynamic and turbulent environment? This requires us to delve into the benefits of having strong unions and the disadvantages as well as the HRM approach to employment relations. Collective bargaining and a strong role for unions have various implications on the various actors in employment relations such as the employees, employers, trade unions and the state. In Britain, trade unions had a lot of power before the conservative government took over power. The players in British employment relations include the Trade Union Congress, European Union, staff associations, state, employee representatives, and employers among others (Armstrong, 2009). ... They also help to settle disputes by participating in disciplinary and grievance hearings, legal representation for members, ensuring health and safety standards are maintained and ensuring job security by protecting them against unlawful dismissal. Trade unions can effectively bargain for improved wages and benefits for workers but what does this imply for the employer? If it results in higher wages than equilibrium wages in the market, the employer is unable to compete effectively in the highly competitive global market hence may be forced out of business or reduce production (Hyman, 2001). Moreover, increased wages lead to high production costs thus reduced output which may force the employer to cut labour costs by reducing the number of employees. This is a disadvantage to the employees as they lose income. For unions, increased wages means increased returns for them although a reduction in membership means loss of returns. Sometimes collective bargaining does not end up in an ag reement hence conflicts arise. A strong union may influence members to go on strike until their demands are met or stay on the job but slow their production (Singh, 2010).This leads to great losses for the employer due to reduced productivity or lost production. For example, British Airways strike in 2010 led to disruption of flights from Heathrow airport hence massive losses due to cancellation of flights and loss of consumer confidence. Trade disputes are therefore inevitable where unions are strong. Collective bargaining determines the relationship between employee and employer through an agreed employment contract (Torrington et al. 2011). This may limit workplace flexibility which is much needed in today’s

Jesus as founder of Christianity Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 2000 words

Jesus as founder of Christianity - Essay Example That Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah or Christ, is the founder of Christianity is held as an unquestionable assumption by many Christians is obvious, but careful scholarship requires that the assumption be qualified, if not refuted. A founder may be defined as a person who establishes, initiates, originates or lays the foundations of an idea, movement, group or institution . Identifying a founder of Christianity then will require one to determine with which person did the religion originate, who established it, who introduced it as an idea or movement, and who gave it its structure and organisation. As we shall see, this task is not a clear-cut one. The origins of Christianity were fraught with much controversy, and its development into the organized religion and group of religious systems that we now call Christianity cannot be said to have been a smooth and linear one. This paper then explores the above question along three axes: Jesus as the founder of Christianity; Jesus as the originator of a Jewish Messianic sect that â€Å"posthumously† became Christianity; and the apostles as the founder of a Jewish sect that became Christianity through the interpretations and Christology of Paul. According to The Columbia Encyclopaedia, the main teachings of Christianity are that "Jesus is the Son of God; that his life on earth, his crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension into heaven are proof of God's love for humanity and God's forgiveness of human sins; and that by faith in Jesus one may attain salvation and eternal life"3. It is indisputable that Christianity centres on the life, death, resurrection, and teachings of Jesus, without whom the religion wouldn't exist. He is the pre-eminent source, and the great 'rabbi', whose words and the Midrash4 thereof form the New Testament scriptures. It is Jesus who gives the basis for the religion's creation in the forty days between His resurrection and ascension: "After his suffering he appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God. He said to them 'you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.'"5 Although Christianity begins in earnest after Jesus' ascension, he lays the foundations for it to be carried out in the above quote and in the Great Commission: "Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation. Whoever believes and is baptised will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. And [miraculous] signs will accompany those who believe".6 There are two things of note about this commission; the first is that it reiterates the disciples' missionary work during the lifetime of Jesus7, and the second is that it gives the disciples the power and authori ty to continue doing the miraculous work that Jesus had done in his lifetime. The first time the gospel is preached after the resurrection is on the day of Pentecost, when, on receiving the promised Holy Spirit, Peter addresses the crowd gathered8. His sermon takes the following form: he recalls the Messianic prophecy in Joel and relates the story of Jesus' life, work, persecution and resurrection, using this to demonstrate that "God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ."9 He closes with a rejoinder that indicates the basic tenet of 'The Way': "Repent and be baptised, everyone of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit."10 'The Way' eventually becomes known as 'Christianity', after the appellation given to the disciples in Antioch11. On the one hand, the above shows that to some extent, Jesus can be considered the founder of Christianity, since it originates and is grounded in him. On the other hand, it shows, as most definitions of Christianity claim, that the religion that bears his name is actually founded by his followers after his death12. In one sense, Christianity,

Deloneys view of age Essay Example for Free

Deloneys view of age Essay The word ‘age’ is also paired with the adjective ‘crabbed’, however the word ’youth’ is not attached to any word and seems almost completely separate. Youth seems quite isolated from the word ‘age’ and could represent how nowadays parents and children are quite segregated from each other. As well as the word being isolated, it seems to be independent, as it is not relying on an adjective to describe itself. Following onto the point of where I had written that parents and children are isolated from one another, this is clearly demonstrated to us in ‘Romeo and Juliet’, throughout the play, as well as in ‘crabbed age and youth’, when it is written that they ‘cannot live together’. The isolation between a parent and child, can be expressed due to the fact that these two humans are both from different generations, and have been brought up to have different opinions, or in some cases, completely contrasting opinions and as a consequence have little or nothing in common. For example in ‘Follower’ we are not informed of any similarities between the father and son, however the fact that the verb stumble appears twice and that both the father and the son have experienced it, suggests that this is the only thing of which they have in common. Another example is in ‘Romeo and Juliet’ where we see at the beginning of the play Capulet displaying a willingness to become a better parent as he attempts to understand Juliet’s thoughts and emotions by saying to Paris that Juliet is too â€Å"ripe to be a bride†. This portrays to us a parent who is willing to change their own opinion in a matter. in the Elizabethan era it was considered normal for a 14 year old to be married and expecting children, which is made clear to us when Paris says to Capulet ‘younger than she (Juliet) are happy mothers made’, to which Capulet answers by saying that young mothers are ‘too soon marr’d’. By defending his and his daughter’s actions, shows him to be a protective father. There is no doubt that along the path of parenthood there will be clashes between a parent and child, of which the child or parent feels that they ‘cannot live together’, due to different factors, the most prominent of which is a severe clash of opinions. We know not to take the line ‘cannot live together’ literally, because Deloney is talking about the two opinions of the youth and the old and how they are so severely differentiated, almost contradictory. I translate this stanza to mean that the two opinions are so contradictory that neither can win the argument. I can refer this to the poem ‘Catrin’, in which Gillian Clarke talks about a ‘red rope of love’ which represents the bond that a parent and child have. To demonstrate how contradictory these 2 opinions are, Deloney offers us a variety of antithesis, such as â€Å"Youth like summer†¦ Age like winter†, â€Å"Youth is hot†¦ Age is Cold†. The roles in this parent child relationship are clear to us; Capulet even tells us that he thinks of Juliet as a ‘whining mammet’. A mammet is a puppet, and so obviously a puppet needs a puppeteer, and due to how Capulet acts in this scene, it is evident that he is the puppeteer. This hierarchy of a parent and child is also shown in ‘Follower’, when Heaney describes his father to be a ‘full sail strung’ and that ‘horses strained at his clicking tongue’. By saying that even ‘horses strained at his clicking tongue’ shows how much power and authority his father had; he had to do such little, to get the horses to do a lot of work. The fact that an animal listens to him, demonstrates just how powerful he is. Deloney also thinks that age and youth are completely opposite by saying ‘age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave’. By using two completely opposite seasons of the year, Deloney is also pointing out that parents and children are also completely opposite. For example it is hot in summer and cold in winter, it cannot be hot in winter and cold in summer, however when we get too hot, we wish for it to be cooler and when we are cold, we wish for it to be hot. Similarly, when we are old we desire to be young, and when we are young we wish to be older or you could say when children are in need of parents, they may not be here, but that when they are here, you do not need them vice versa. If we were to interpret this to fit the role of a parent child relationship then we would say that when as children we become older and our parents eventually die, suddenly we seem to miss them immensely. So by using antithesis, the poet is basically telling us that once a parent or child is deceased, we learn how much we appreciated them. I feel it is a shame that we only realise things like this once it has been taken from us. This is shown in Romeo and Juliet when Capulet discovers that his daughter has apparently died from depression, he feels overwhelmed and his true feelings for Juliet are revealed as he says ‘with my child are my joys buried’, however when she was alive (in act 3 scene 5), he did not seem to care if she were to ‘die in the streets’.

Essay --

There are many similarities and differences in the readings of Plato’s The Allegory Cave, Descartes’ Mediation and The Matrix. These stories share an alternative perception to reality and the implications that it is caused on the individuals who are affected by this alteration. These stories share skepticism of validity in the perception of reality. Firstly, these three stories, The Matrix, The Allegory Cave, and Mediation, share common similarities that questions the authenticity of the world around them and doubts their perceived perception of reality and its validity. Descartes discussed the possibility that everyone is dreaming and that our actions involving eye opening, moving our head, hands and our body are illusions.(Descartes, 1641) Plato also regarded the perception of men who were restrained to look forward only could only perceive objects and passersby as their shadows. Plato stated that these prisoners’ perception of reality would be no more than just shadows of objects.(Plate, 514-518) The Matrix relates with Descartes theory based on the fact that in The Matrix, there is a computer system that controls everyone’s mind in a computer-generated virtual dream world. These stories ask deeper questions on the basis of man’s perception of reality and the possibility that our minds and perceptions ar e controlled by something else and that something else determines our reality. (Wachowski, 1999) Secondly, although these three stories share common similarities about the validity of reality, they have distinguishing differences that separate them from one another. The Matrix depicts a stepford-like society that is completely controlled by the computer system. However, there is a group of individuals who have overcome their p... ...me where those who are living in an illusion will have to come to terms with reality eventually. The time in which that happens, those who are living in the illusion will have a much harder time trying to comprehend the true reality which would cause more troubles and problems than living with the harshness in the first place. Finally, The Matrix, The Allegory Cave, and Mediation all have significant importance is revelation of the perceived perception of reality and the validity of that reality. Each story has its own unique twist to whom or what has the control over that perception. The stories give the reader the opportunity to dive deeper into this meaning of reality. The skepticism that is used is relatable in each individual’s lives. Individuals have to determine what they perceive to be real and true and what they believe to be opinions that are truly false. Essay -- There are many similarities and differences in the readings of Plato’s The Allegory Cave, Descartes’ Mediation and The Matrix. These stories share an alternative perception to reality and the implications that it is caused on the individuals who are affected by this alteration. These stories share skepticism of validity in the perception of reality. Firstly, these three stories, The Matrix, The Allegory Cave, and Mediation, share common similarities that questions the authenticity of the world around them and doubts their perceived perception of reality and its validity. Descartes discussed the possibility that everyone is dreaming and that our actions involving eye opening, moving our head, hands and our body are illusions.(Descartes, 1641) Plato also regarded the perception of men who were restrained to look forward only could only perceive objects and passersby as their shadows. Plato stated that these prisoners’ perception of reality would be no more than just shadows of objects.(Plate, 514-518) The Matrix relates with Descartes theory based on the fact that in The Matrix, there is a computer system that controls everyone’s mind in a computer-generated virtual dream world. These stories ask deeper questions on the basis of man’s perception of reality and the possibility that our minds and perceptions ar e controlled by something else and that something else determines our reality. (Wachowski, 1999) Secondly, although these three stories share common similarities about the validity of reality, they have distinguishing differences that separate them from one another. The Matrix depicts a stepford-like society that is completely controlled by the computer system. However, there is a group of individuals who have overcome their p... ...me where those who are living in an illusion will have to come to terms with reality eventually. The time in which that happens, those who are living in the illusion will have a much harder time trying to comprehend the true reality which would cause more troubles and problems than living with the harshness in the first place. Finally, The Matrix, The Allegory Cave, and Mediation all have significant importance is revelation of the perceived perception of reality and the validity of that reality. Each story has its own unique twist to whom or what has the control over that perception. The stories give the reader the opportunity to dive deeper into this meaning of reality. The skepticism that is used is relatable in each individual’s lives. Individuals have to determine what they perceive to be real and true and what they believe to be opinions that are truly false.

Angels Demons Chapter 113-117

113 Something was wrong. Lieutenant Chartrand stood outside the Pope's office and sensed in the uneasy stance of the soldier standing with him that they shared the same anxiety. The private meeting they were shielding, Rocher had said, could save the Vatican from destruction. So Chartrand wondered why his protective instincts were tingling. And why was Rocher acting so strangely? Something definitely was awry. Captain Rocher stood to Chartrand's right, staring dead ahead, his sharp gaze uncharacteristically distant. Chartrand barely recognized the captain. Rocher had not been himself in the last hour. His decisions made no sense. Someone should be present inside this meeting! Chartrand thought. He had heard Maximilian Kohler bolt the door after he entered. Why had Rocher permitted this? But there was so much more bothering Chartrand. The cardinals. The cardinals were still locked in the Sistine Chapel. This was absolute insanity. The camerlegno had wanted them evacuated fifteen minutes ago! Rocher had overruled the decision and not informed the camerlegno. Chartrand had expressed concern, and Rocher had almost taken off his head. Chain of command was never questioned in the Swiss Guard, and Rocher was now top dog. Half an hour, Rocher thought, discreetly checking his Swiss chronometer in the dim light of the candelabra lighting the hall. Please hurry. Chartrand wished he could hear what was happening on the other side of the doors. Still, he knew there was no one he would rather have handling this crisis than the camerlegno. The man had been tested beyond reason tonight, and he had not flinched. He had confronted the problem head-on†¦ truthful, candid, shining like an example to all. Chartrand felt proud right now to be a Catholic. The Illuminati had made a mistake when they challenged Camerlegno Ventresca. At that moment, however, Chartrand's thoughts were jolted by an unexpected sound. A banging. It was coming from down the hall. The pounding was distant and muffled, but incessant. Rocher looked up. The captain turned to Chartrand and motioned down the hall. Chartrand understood. He turned on his flashlight and took off to investigate. The banging was more desperate now. Chartrand ran thirty yards down the corridor to an intersection. The noise seemed to be coming from around the corner, beyond the Sala Clementina. Chartrand felt perplexed. There was only one room back there – the Pope's private library. His Holiness's private library had been locked since the Pope's death. Nobody could possibly be in there! Chartrand hurried down the second corridor, turned another corner, and rushed to the library door. The wooden portico was diminutive, but it stood in the dark like a dour sentinel. The banging was coming from somewhere inside. Chartrand hesitated. He had never been inside the private library. Few had. No one was allowed in without an escort by the Pope himself. Tentatively, Chartrand reached for the doorknob and turned. As he had imagined, the door was locked. He put his ear to the door. The banging was louder. Then he heard something else. Voices! Someone calling out! He could not make out the words, but he could hear the panic in their shouts. Was someone trapped in the library? Had the Swiss Guard not properly evacuated the building? Chartrand hesitated, wondering if he should go back and consult Rocher. The hell with that. Chartrand had been trained to make decisions, and he would make one now. He pulled out his side arm and fired a single shot into the door latch. The wood exploded, and the door swung open. Beyond the threshold Chartrand saw nothing but blackness. He shone his flashlight. The room was rectangular – oriental carpets, high oak shelves packed with books, a stitched leather couch, and a marble fireplace. Chartrand had heard stories of this place – three thousand ancient volumes side by side with hundreds of current magazines and periodicals, anything His Holiness requested. The coffee table was covered with journals of science and politics. The banging was clearer now. Chartrand shone his light across the room toward the sound. On the far wall, beyond the sitting area, was a huge door made of iron. It looked impenetrable as a vault. It had four mammoth locks. The tiny etched letters dead center of the door took Chartrand's breath away. IL PASSETTO Chartrand stared. The Pope's secret escape route! Chartrand had certainly heard of Il Passetto, and he had even heard rumors that it had once had an entrance here in the library, but the tunnel had not been used in ages! Who could be banging on the other side? Chartrand took his flashlight and rapped on the door. There was a muffled exultation from the other side. The banging stopped, and the voices yelled louder. Chartrand could barely make out their words through the barricade. â€Å"†¦ Kohler†¦ lie†¦ camerlegno†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Who is that?† Chartrand yelled. â€Å"†¦ ert Langdon†¦ Vittoria Ve†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Chartrand understood enough to be confused. I thought you were dead! â€Å"†¦ the door,† the voices yelled. â€Å"Open†¦!† Chartrand looked at the iron barrier and knew he would need dynamite to get through there. â€Å"Impossible!† he yelled. â€Å"Too thick!† â€Å"†¦ meeting†¦ stop†¦ erlegno†¦ danger†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Despite his training on the hazards of panic, Chartrand felt a sudden rush of fear at the last few words. Had he understood correctly? Heart pounding, he turned to run back to the office. As he turned, though, he stalled. His gaze had fallen to something on the door†¦ something more shocking even than the message coming from beyond it. Emerging from the keyholes of each of the door's massive locks were keys. Chartrand stared. The keys were here? He blinked in disbelief. The keys to this door were supposed to be in a vault someplace! This passage was never used – not for centuries! Chartrand dropped his flashlight on the floor. He grabbed the first key and turned. The mechanism was rusted and stiff, but it still worked. Someone had opened it recently. Chartrand worked the next lock. And the next. When the last bolt slid aside, Chartrand pulled. The slab of iron creaked open. He grabbed his light and shone it into the passage. Robert Langdon and Vittoria Vetra looked like apparitions as they staggered into the library. Both were ragged and tired, but they were very much alive. â€Å"What is this!† Chartrand demanded. â€Å"What's going on! Where did you come from?† â€Å"Where's Max Kohler?† Langdon demanded. Chartrand pointed. â€Å"In a private meeting with the camer – â€Å" Langdon and Vittoria pushed past him and ran down the darkened hall. Chartrand turned, instinctively raising his gun at their backs. He quickly lowered it and ran after them. Rocher apparently heard them coming, because as they arrived outside the Pope's office, Rocher had spread his legs in a protective stance and was leveling his gun at them. â€Å"Alt!† â€Å"The camerlegno is in danger!† Langdon yelled, raising his arms in surrender as he slid to a stop. â€Å"Open the door! Max Kohler is going to kill the camerlegno!† Rocher looked angry. â€Å"Open the door!† Vittoria said. â€Å"Hurry!† But it was too late. From inside the Pope's office came a bloodcurdling scream. It was the camerlegno. 114 The confrontation lasted only seconds. Camerlegno Ventresca was still screaming when Chartrand stepped past Rocher and blew open the door of the Pope's office. The guards dashed in. Langdon and Vittoria ran in behind them. The scene before them was staggering. The chamber was lit only by candlelight and a dying fire. Kohler was near the fireplace, standing awkwardly in front of his wheelchair. He brandished a pistol, aimed at the camerlegno, who lay on the floor at his feet, writhing in agony. The camerlegno's cassock was torn open, and his bare chest was seared black. Langdon could not make out the symbol from across the room, but a large, square brand lay on the floor near Kohler. The metal still glowed red. Two of the Swiss Guards acted without hesitation. They opened fire. The bullets smashed into Kohler's chest, driving him backward. Kohler collapsed into his wheelchair, his chest gurgling blood. His gun went skittering across the floor. Langdon stood stunned in the doorway. Vittoria seemed paralyzed. â€Å"Max†¦Ã¢â‚¬  she whispered. The camerlegno, still twisting on the floor, rolled toward Rocher, and with the trancelike terror of the early witch hunts, pointed his index finger at Rocher and yelled a single word. â€Å"ILLUMINATUS!† â€Å"You bastard,† Rocher said, running at him. â€Å"You sanctimonious bas – â€Å" This time it was Chartrand who reacted on instinct, putting three bullets in Rocher's back. The captain fell face first on the tile floor and slid lifeless through his own blood. Chartrand and the guards dashed immediately to the camerlegno, who lay clutching himself, convulsing in pain. Both guards let out exclamations of horror when they saw the symbol seared on the camerlegno's chest. The second guard saw the brand upside down and immediately staggered backward with fear in his eyes. Chartrand, looking equally overwhelmed by the symbol, pulled the camerlegno's torn cassock up over the burn, shielding it from view. Langdon felt delirious as he moved across the room. Through a mist of insanity and violence, he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. A crippled scientist, in a final act of symbolic dominance, had flown into Vatican City and branded the church's highest official. Some things are worth dying for, the Hassassin had said. Langdon wondered how a handicapped man could possibly have overpowered the camerlegno. Then again, Kohler had a gun. It doesn't matter how he did it! Kohler accomplished his mission! Langdon moved toward the gruesome scene. The camerlegno was being attended, and Langdon felt himself drawn toward the smoking brand on the floor near Kohler's wheelchair. The sixth brand? The closer Langdon got, the more confused he became. The brand seemed to be a perfect square, quite large, and had obviously come from the sacred center compartment of the chest in the Illuminati Lair. A sixth and final brand, the Hassassin had said. The most brilliant of all. Langdon knelt beside Kohler and reached for the object. The metal still radiated heat. Grasping the wooden handle, Langdon picked it up. He was not sure what he expected to see, but it most certainly was not this. Angels & Demons Langdon stared a long, confused moment. Nothing was making sense. Why had the guards cried out in horror when they saw this? It was a square of meaningless squiggles. The most brilliant of all? It was symmetrical, Langdon could tell as he rotated it in his hand, but it was gibberish. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, Langdon looked up, expecting Vittoria. The hand, however, was covered with blood. It belonged to Maximilian Kohler, who was reaching out from his wheelchair. Langdon dropped the brand and staggered to his feet. Kohler's still alive! Slumped in his wheelchair, the dying director was still breathing, albeit barely, sucking in sputtering gasps. Kohler's eyes met Langdon's, and it was the same stony gaze that had greeted Langdon at CERN earlier that day. The eyes looked even harder in death, the loathing and enmity rising to the surface. The scientist's body quivered, and Langdon sensed he was trying to move. Everyone else in the room was focused on the camerlegno, and Langdon wanted to call out, but he could not react. He was transfixed by the intensity radiating from Kohler in these final seconds of his life. The director, with tremulous effort, lifted his arm and pulled a small device off the arm of his wheelchair. It was the size of a matchbox. He held it out, quivering. For an instant, Langdon feared Kohler had a weapon. But it was something else. â€Å"G-give†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Kohler's final words were a gurgling whisper. â€Å"G-give this†¦ to the m-media.† Kohler collapsed motionless, and the device fell in his lap. Shocked, Langdon stared at the device. It was electronic. The words SONY RUVI were printed across the front. Langdon recognized it as one of those new ultraminiature, palm-held camcorders. The balls on this guy! he thought. Kohler had apparently recorded some sort of final suicide message he wanted the media to broadcast†¦ no doubt some sermon about the importance of science and the evils of religion. Langdon decided he had done enough for this man's cause tonight. Before Chartrand saw Kohler's camcorder, Langdon slipped it into his deepest jacket pocket. Kohler's final message can rot in hell! It was the voice of the camerlegno that broke the silence. He was trying to sit up. â€Å"The cardinals,† he gasped to Chartrand. â€Å"Still in the Sistine Chapel!† Chartrand exclaimed. â€Å"Captain Rocher ordered – † â€Å"Evacuate†¦ now. Everyone.† Chartrand sent one of the other guards running off to let the cardinals out. The camerlegno grimaced in pain. â€Å"Helicopter†¦ out front†¦ get me to a hospital.† 115 In St. Peter's Square, the Swiss Guard pilot sat in the cockpit of the parked Vatican helicopter and rubbed his temples. The chaos in the square around him was so loud that it drowned out the sound of his idling rotors. This was no solemn candlelight vigil. He was amazed a riot had not broken out yet. With less than twenty-five minutes left until midnight, the people were still packed together, some praying, some weeping for the church, others screaming obscenities and proclaiming that this was what the church deserved, still others chanting apocalyptic Bible verses. The pilot's head pounded as the media lights glinted off his windshield. He squinted out at the clamorous masses. Banners waved over the crowd. Antimatter is the Antichrist! Scientist=Satanist Where is your God now? The pilot groaned, his headache worsening. He half considered grabbing the windshield's vinyl covering and putting it up so he wouldn't have to watch, but he knew he would be airborne in a matter of minutes. Lieutenant Chartrand had just radioed with terrible news. The camerlegno had been attacked by Maximilian Kohler and seriously injured. Chartrand, the American, and the woman were carrying the camerlegno out now so he could be evacuated to a hospital. The pilot felt personally responsible for the attack. He reprimanded himself for not acting on his gut. Earlier, when he had picked up Kohler at the airport, he had sensed something in the scientist's dead eyes. He couldn't place it, but he didn't like it. Not that it mattered. Rocher was running the show, and Rocher insisted this was the guy. Rocher had apparently been wrong. A new clamor arose from the crowd, and the pilot looked over to see a line of cardinals processing solemnly out of the Vatican onto St. Peter's Square. The cardinals' relief to be leaving ground zero seemed to be quickly overcome by looks of bewilderment at the spectacle now going on outside the church. The crowd noise intensified yet again. The pilot's head pounded. He needed an aspirin. Maybe three. He didn't like to fly on medication, but a few aspirin would certainly be less debilitating than this raging headache. He reached for the first-aid kit, kept with assorted maps and manuals in a cargo box bolted between the two front seats. When he tried to open the box, though, he found it locked. He looked around for the key and then finally gave up. Tonight was clearly not his lucky night. He went back to massaging his temples. Inside the darkened basilica, Langdon, Vittoria, and the two guards strained breathlessly toward the main exit. Unable to find anything more suitable, the four of them were transporting the wounded camerlegno on a narrow table, balancing the inert body between them as though on a stretcher. Outside the doors, the faint roar of human chaos was now audible. The camerlegno teetered on the brink of unconsciousness. Time was running out. 116 It was 11:39 P.M. when Langdon stepped with the others from St. Peter's Basilica. The glare that hit his eyes was searing. The media lights shone off the white marble like sunlight off a snowy tundra. Langdon squinted, trying to find refuge behind the faà §ade's enormous columns, but the light came from all directions. In front of him, a collage of massive video screens rose above the crowd. Standing there atop the magnificent stairs that spilled down to the piazza below, Langdon felt like a reluctant player on the world's biggest stage. Somewhere beyond the glaring lights, Langdon heard an idling helicopter and the roar of a hundred thousand voices. To their left, a procession of cardinals was now evacuating onto the square. They all stopped in apparent distress to see the scene now unfolding on the staircase. â€Å"Careful now,† Chartrand urged, sounding focused as the group began descending the stairs toward the helicopter. Langdon felt like they were moving underwater. His arms ached from the weight of the camerlegno and the table. He wondered how the moment could get much less dignified. Then he saw the answer. The two BBC reporters had apparently been crossing the open square on their way back to the press area. But now, with the roar of the crowd, they had turned. Glick and Macri were now running back toward them. Macri's camera was raised and rolling. Here come the vultures, Langdon thought. â€Å"Alt!† Chartrand yelled. â€Å"Get back!† But the reporters kept coming. Langdon guessed the other networks would take about six seconds to pick up this live BBC feed again. He was wrong. They took two. As if connected by some sort of universal consciousness, every last media screen in the piazza cut away from their countdown clocks and their Vatican experts and began transmitting the same picture – a jiggling action footage swooping up the Vatican stairs. Now, everywhere Langdon looked, he saw the camerlegno's limp body in a Technicolor close-up. This is wrong! Langdon thought. He wanted to run down the stairs and interfere, but he could not. It wouldn't have helped anyway. Whether it was the roar of the crowd or the cool night air that caused it, Langdon would never know, but at that moment, the inconceivable occurred. Like a man awakening from a nightmare, the camerlegno's eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright. Taken entirely by surprise, Langdon and the others fumbled with the shifting weight. The front of the table dipped. The camerlegno began to slide. They tried to recover by setting the table down, but it was too late. The camerlegno slid off the front. Incredibly, he did not fall. His feet hit the marble, and he swayed upright. He stood a moment, looking disoriented, and then, before anyone could stop him, he lurched forward, staggering down the stairs toward Macri. â€Å"No!† Langdon screamed. Chartrand rushed forward, trying to reign in the camerlegno. But the camerlegno turned on him, wild-eyed, crazed. â€Å"Leave me!† Chartrand jumped back. The scene went from bad to worse. The camerlegno's torn cassock, having been only laid over his chest by Chartrand, began to slip lower. For a moment, Langdon thought the garment might hold, but that moment passed. The cassock let go, sliding off his shoulders down around his waist. The gasp that went up from the crowd seemed to travel around the globe and back in an instant. Cameras rolled, flashbulbs exploded. On media screens everywhere, the image of the camerlegno's branded chest was projected, towering and in grisly detail. Some screens were even freezing the image and rotating it 180 degrees. The ultimate Illuminati victory. Langdon stared at the brand on the screens. Although it was the imprint of the square brand he had held earlier, the symbol now made sense. Perfect sense. The marking's awesome power hit Langdon like a train. Orientation. Langdon had forgotten the first rule of symbology. When is a square not a square? He had also forgotten that iron brands, just like rubber stamps, never looked like their imprints. They were in reverse. Langdon had been looking at the brand's negative! As the chaos grew, an old Illuminati quote echoed with new meaning: â€Å"A flawless diamond, born of the ancient elements with such perfection that all those who saw it could only stare in wonder.† Langdon knew now the myth was true. Earth, Air, Fire, Water. The Illuminati Diamond. Angels & Demons 117 Robert Langdon had little doubt that the chaos and hysteria coursing through St. Peter's Square at this very instant exceeded anything Vatican Hill had ever witnessed. No battle, no crucifixion, no pilgrimage, no mystical vision†¦ nothing in the shrine's 2,000-year history could possibly match the scope and drama of this very moment. As the tragedy unfolded, Langdon felt oddly separate, as if hovering there beside Vittoria at the top of the stairs. The action seemed to distend, as if in a time warp, all the insanity slowing to a crawl†¦ The branded camerlegno†¦ raving for the world to see†¦ The Illuminati Diamond†¦ unveiled in its diabolical genius†¦ The countdown clock registering the final twenty minutes of Vatican history†¦ The drama, however, had only just begun. The camerlegno, as if in some sort of post-traumatic trance, seemed suddenly puissant, possessed by demons. He began babbling, whispering to unseen spirits, looking up at the sky and raising his arms to God. â€Å"Speak!† the camerlegno yelled to the heavens. â€Å"Yes, I hear you!† In that moment, Langdon understood. His heart dropped like a rock. Vittoria apparently understood too. She went white. â€Å"He's in shock,† she said. â€Å"He's hallucinating. He thinks he's talking to God!† Somebody's got to stop this, Langdon thought. It was a wretched and embarrassing end. Get this man to a hospital! Below them on the stairs, Chinita Macri was poised and filming, apparently having located her ideal vantage point. The images she filmed appeared instantly across the square behind her on media screens†¦ like endless drive-in movies all playing the same grisly tragedy. The whole scene felt epic. The camerlegno, in his torn cassock, with the scorched brand on his chest, looked like some sort of battered champion who had overcome the rings of hell for this one moment of revelation. He bellowed to the heavens. â€Å"Ti sento, Dio! I hear you, God!† Chartrand backed off, a look of awe on his face. The hush that fell across the crowd was instant and absolute. For a moment it was as if the silence had fallen across the entire planet†¦ everyone in front of their TVs rigid, a communal holding of breath. The camerlegno stood on the stairs, before the world, and held out his arms. He looked almost Christlike, bare and wounded before the world. He raised his arms to the heavens and, looking up, exclaimed, â€Å"Grazie! Grazie, Dio!† The silence of the masses never broke. â€Å"Grazie, Dio!† the camerlegno cried out again. Like the sun breaking through a stormy sky, a look of joy spread across his face. â€Å"Grazie, Dio!† Thank you, God? Langdon stared in wonder. The camerlegno was radiant now, his eerie transformation complete. He looked up at the sky, still nodding furiously. He shouted to the heavens, â€Å"Upon this rock I will build my church!† Langdon knew the words, but he had no idea why the camerlegno could possibly be shouting them. The camerlegno turned back to the crowd and bellowed again into the night. â€Å"Upon this rock I will build my church!† Then he raised his hands to the sky and laughed out loud. â€Å"Grazie, Dio! Grazie!† The man had clearly gone mad. The world watched, spellbound. The culmination, however, was something no one expected. With a final joyous exultation, the camerlegno turned and dashed back into St. Peter's Basilica.