I like the Independent, even during the weekend it is not boring, and in some aspects very educative. Here is an article 'The Rothschild Libel: Why has it taken 200 years for an anti-Semitic slur that emergd from the Battle of Waterloo to be dismissed?'

This is my homework: write an essay on childhood obesity, as persuasive and dramatic as you can, even rude. The audience: parents. Well, I do not like to be rude, but I tried. The research is made up by me, just to sound balanced and credible. Probably I should write one more paragraph about why fast food is unhealthy - a bit of science with the gory examples of the impact of junk food on child's development. And another one showing that healthy food does not mean the expensive food. 


'80 percent of the young generation (aged 6-16) is either heavily overweight or clinically obese', admonish scientists from the UK Health and Wellbeing Organisation. Just look at the report. (Every parent has a copy.)

We have been raising monsters! Fat monsters with greasy fingers, unable to use a fork and a knife, because their diet consists only of chips, pizza and Mc chicken. Clumsy, fatty monsters hidden in their rooms, with parents deaf and blind to their children's despair. Shame on you!

The kitchen is a messy store of half-eaten food in boxes, drinks in cans and bottles because no one cares to cook. The microwave is the queen of this wreckage, used in case that in the morning we will warm up the leftovers from the previous evening: it might serve as breakfast for kids, right? When the whole pizza was eaten, the sugary cereals are our resort - we put cereals, cold milk and it is done, fast and clean, and we are happy; why bother with cooking something nutritious when there are many junky but ready to eat food?

Third-hand smoke risks

Bo Hang, Ph.D. and Hugo Destaillats from Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory presented the the results of their research into the dangers of third-hand smoke at the National Meeting & Exposition of the American Chemical Society in Dallas in March in 2014.

Smoking, both first- and second-hand, is dangerous to our health and banned in public areas in many countries. The idea of third-hand smoke is quite new, but the evidence shows that it could seriously damage human health. Leftover cigarette smoke, consisting of over 4000 second-hand smoke components, clings to the surfaces and reacts with the indoor air, creating brand-new components that constitute third-hand smoke. Some of these components, like a tobacco-specific nitrosamine, attach to DNA causing cancer and genetic mutations.

Third-hand smoke is the biggest potential health risk for babies and toddlers who touch items and put them into their mouths, getting into direct contact with those new dangerous substances. The researchers warn that over 30 million Americans still smoke in private and rented residences, living with the threat every day. One way to minimalize the risks of third-hand smoke is to get rid of or thoroughly wash things affected by second-hand smoke.

'The Last Night of the World' by Ray Bradbury is a short story published in February 1951, a year of the beginning of the Korean War, and the start of testing nuclear bombs in Nevada.

The narrator depicts an ordinary family's evening in any industrial country, with parents having coffee and the daughters playing outside. The title of the story is repeated in the first sentence, which is a question like from a social game. With this difference that it is not a game: we slowly get to know that all people had the same dream in which a voice told them that 'things would stop here on Earth'. The couple discusses the reasons for 'closing a book', other people's reactions, what others might be doing during the last few hours of that last day, and their feelings towards the end of the world. They are calm, reflective and follow their daily routine with a kind of satisfaction. Children are not informed of the situation.

This is a very strange story because of the lack of the emotions in it. Its political and moral motifs are obvious, but it misses any moralisation or religious symbols. We have been bad, well - not everyone - but as a race we are guilty of many terrible things, and one of them is our indifference towards the other people's ordeal. Yes, I am guilty, too, but - as we are still on this planet - can we try to write a better book?

In my opinion, adulthood is a state of mind, not determined by one's age in years, and depends on one's experience. Becoming an adult is the process of forming a character and mind, and adulthood, without being proved, is only the birth certificate. Following the law of the age of majority or the age of which one is permitted certain licences can be misleading and puzzling. Additionally, the older we are, the less prone to accept a young person as a fully adult. Similarly, young people's perception of adulthood depends on some achievements: education, financial independence, starting a family, having a child and fully supporting them.

In the UK, and in the most countries, a person becomes an adult with the right to vote, which is given when one turns 18. But there are some other ages of license, which entitle a young person to do what an adult can, so at the age of: 12 one has to buy an adult travel ticket, 16 one reaches the age of consent and  may drop out the education,  17 one can join the Army and get a driving licence, 18 - watch X-rated movies and marry, 21 - buy alcohol and cigarettes. Coming of age, even for the law-makers, seems to be rather a process than crossing the invisible line between adolescence and adulthood. And yet, in our modern times, there are two tendencies among young people: teenage parenthood or thirty-something singlehood, both scrutinized by the media and authorities.

It is by far easier to identify adulthood in the animal kingdom. For example, a female leopard is forced to abandon her mother when she reaches puberty; nonetheless, she has to prove her independence by her first big game kill, indicating her ability to survive and to feed her future cubs. In human society, the perception of adulthood changes throughout the history and culture. First of all, the notion of adulthood referred only to the male members of society and could be reached as early as 14-16 years in some tribes and in the Middle Ages; on the other hand, in the Roman Empire a man was entitled to stand for election to the Senate when he reached the age of 30 years, and therefore was accepted as an adult person.

Summing up, I think that adulthood is the ability to be responsible for himself or herself and for the society. Moreover, it implies that a person has to have some positive and negative experience, which strengthened her or his character, gave an insight into the complexity of human society and her or his own strong and weak points. One may turn 30 and still be an adolescent, whereas another person, only 16 years old be already recognized as an adult. Being an adult means to be a reliable part of the society.

I love London, which is famous for its cosmopolitan atmosphere, due to its historical places and international workforce. Melting pot of cultures and languages, London has many faces, depending on the locale and time. A vibrant and exotic place, which teems with tourists, London never sleeps or gives much time to rest. This creature never gets tired.

East London, where I live, offers not only advantages of a modern metropolis but also of the countryside with its quiet places for relaxing. Epping Forest, which stretches from Leytonstone, Wanstead to Epping, accommodates the largest open space in London and the remains of the ancient woodlands. Despite its name, it rather resembles a park, whose well-maintained paths and lakes attract Londoners during the weekends and lovers of walking the whole year round. I especially like this place on the working days, when most people are too occupied to find time to escape the city for the nature.

Because the ancient woodland tends to be sodden most of the winter, I have bought wellingtons and may enjoy the Forest throughout the whole year. The better weather, the more people relax in its every corner, but yet there are places where one may find an isolation amongst the trees and wildlife. There is something magical in the forest because, after reaching the boundary between the city and the nature, it does not take much time to forget the overwhelming racket of the city life.


On the other hand, the occupied and energetic City, proud of many a man and woman, who work hard the entire day to build its power, radiates wisdom and money. After the black army disappears, swallowed by the countless bowels of the Underground, the City silently strode throughout the empty streets, half surprised and half scared of this sudden emptiness.

Feeling somehow alone, the City welcomes travelers at the weekends, amazed by their laziness, childish enthusiasm, and eagerness to take pictures of its beauty. But there is a sense of the absence, a sense of the loss of those, to whom the streets really belong. The City is trapped in a museum, waiting impatiently for another Monday.

London is famous for its cosmopolitan atmosphere due to its historical places and international workforce. Melting pot of cultures and languages, London has many faces, depending on the locale and time. A vibrant and exotic place, which teems with tourists, London never sleeps or gives much time to rest.

The occupied and energetic City, proud of many a man and woman, who work hard the entire day to build its power, radiates wisdom and money. After the black army disappears, swallowed by the countless bowels of the Underground, the City silently strode throughout the empty streets, half surprised and half scared of this sudden emptiness.

Feeling somehow alone, the City welcomes travelers of the weekends, amazed by their laziness, childish enthusiasm, and eagerness to take pictures of its beauty. But there is a sense of the absence, a sense of the loss of those, to whom the streets really belong. The City is trapped in a museum, waiting impatiently for another Monday.


This is a kind of an exercise to learn how to use all types of the English phrases in writing. Mastering clauses and phrases, before mastering different type of sentences.

This is an exercise given by teachers of mastering writing. It asked us to depict a place with adjective and adverb clauses.
I have to admit that I have found it difficult to think and write in terms of clauses. Probably I am better in constructing phrases. Legend: bold are what I think are adjectival clauses and red bold - adverbial ones.


East London, where I live, offers not only advantages of a modern metropolis but also of the countryside with its quiet places for relaxing. Epping Forest, which stretches from Leytonstone, Wanstead to Epping, is the largest open space in London and the remains of the ancient woodlands, nowadays managed by the City of London Corporation.

In many places, it rather resembles a park, whose well-maintained paths and lakes attract Londoners during the weekends and lovers of walking the whole year round. I especially like this place on the working days, when most people are too occupied to find time to escape the city for the nature.

Because the ancient woodland tends to be sodden most of the winter, I have bought wellingtons and may enjoy the Forest throughout the whole year. The better weather, the more people relax in its every corner, but yet there are places where one may find an isolation among the trees and wildlife. There is something magical in the forest because  - after reaching the boundary between the city and the nature - it does not take much time to forget the overwhelming racket of the city life.

It was Sunday; one of those last lazy days of winter when Spring starts giving signs of its readiness to show its full beauty. Small, yellow crocuses on my mind that I saw just before in the park, I peacefully strode toward the tube station, barely noticing that I was leaving daylight for underground. Rather absent-mindedly, I took the step into the elevator, glazing over the other people that also absent-mindedly let the running monster slowly swallow them down. Few, probably with more energy, walked down, passing by the lethargic majority: hurrying in the UK is pretty unusual, especially on such a day. Then, the sudden rush broke into the murmur of the engines; someone was dashing down the elevator. Those, who turned back their heads - and I did it, too - witnessed a young man galloping on the moving steps in a great hurry. Breathlessly, we gaped at his long legs storming down the moving stairs without missing a single step, and when the legs disappeared everyone was relieved - he did it and did not break a leg. Well done!

I has't a household name, but I won't telleth
As telling thee, mine fusty learned and young cousin
Is not the virtue the theatre would selleth
Nor the ancient chorus would ever amend.

I has't a fame, that glorious eternal life
Not of the bookshelves, but of rising Sun,
for whom the night is the lovers' sweet time,
half self and selfish not half to beest banned.

I has't a power to maketh thee cry
of depress'd stories and joyful alike
of young wisdom reaching the smiling sky
of fusty arrogance, star-crossed to beest spiked.

Has't I hath lived ere? Or mine barren rhymes?
At each moment and still like Death nev'r dies.

English is a very rich language in the sense that one word has many synonyms, but, in fact, every word might have slightly different meaning; therefore, it is important to know the difference and the tone of words we use. This is an exercise on the words: relaxed, laid-back, lackadaisical, lazy and easy-going.

Relaxed - positive

I love doing a few things in my life, and one of these things is watching BBC documentaries. Or any other good ones though there are not many good from the other sources.
My particular interest lies in these categories: Science and Nature, History, Music and Arts. Learning something new is rewarding, but watching animals in their natural habitat is relaxing. No, I do not like violent scenes.
Bears are my preference. All bears, although I like Grizzly and Brown Bears best. Not that I do not like humans.

There is a new documentary series on BBC, titled, 'Alaska: Earths's Frozen Kingdom. Spring', which I highly recommend to every nature lover and to lover of the English language. I will try to review the first episode, using some of the wonderful metaphors and structures from it.
Alaska is the most northerly and by far the biggest American state. In winter it is the land of snow and ice, the land of the bolds, where the waterfalls stopped mid-fall, the rivers lie frozen, even to one metre down; it is a kingdom of male polar bears roaming on thousand of miles of the sea ice. This is the place waiting for the sun to unlock its riches.

In early spring, everything is about to change and every living thing is in a race to grow. After six long months of permanent darkness, the sun climbs higher and higher, bulking up with seven minutes more daylight, but in the beginning it hardly seems up to the task of warming anything. Days are short, cold and most animals scratch a living. This season of early Alaskan spring has its special name: a break-up. When the rivers start to thaw, at long last, within a matter of days the life is getting going again.

Plants, animals and humans alike want to make the best of all opportunities, and sometimes one group takes advantage of the others, but not always it is humans.
Alaskans specialised in longline fishing, which involves modern equipment and up-to-date sonar technology. The long lines with baits are left to the bottom of the sea, where black cod fed, both humans and sperm whales delicacy. The baits attract black cod, and black cod attract sperm whales, or rather the finishing boat engines bell for the free and easy dinner - the creature circle the boat, wait for the engine to start and then they dive to fish for black cod at the end of the lines.

This practice is a kind of the criminal activity and has its own name: depredation, the act of stealing animals, which belong to humans by wild animals. There is a battle about black cod between whales and fishermen supported by scientists, so far the sperm whales outwitted both, the fishermen and the scientists. The serving takes place at seas off southern Alaska - some of the richest on Earth. Every year more and more whales come to learn a new way of catching black cod.

I was wondering how this process looks from the sperm whales' perspective. Something as long as they are comes to the sea, rings to serve black cod at the ends of lines. Ha, live is easier with these new friends - let's tell the others whale about it. I am not sure if the creatures have taken notice of little people on the boats.

I have recently joined two courses in English, one focuses on creative writing, and the other on academic writing.
I will try to summarise each weekly class here; for the start I would like to share with some ideas and methodology.
During the process of improving our English, we tend to ask questions about how to master it, how to learn new words, how to become fluent in a chosen language.
There are a few myths that circulate over the world that I have never agreed to and finally I have found out that there are people who think the same. That is really refreshing.

1. Read a lot to increase your vocabulary.
Reading is great, but it helps you increase only your passive vocab.

2. Learn words from the context.
Some words you may acquire in such a way, but not many. There is an example:

'Natural gold may contain the light of the sun, but minted gold becomes a 'symbol of perversion and the exaltation of unclear desire.' Sir Thomas More confirms this moral distinction in his Utopia, reserving its gold not for finery but for making chamberpots.'Periodic Tables, by Hugh Aldersey-Williams (HarperCollins, 2011)

Now, how you may figure out the meaning of 'finery' and 'chamberpots'?

3. Everyone may acquire a language the same way children do, by listening and speaking without any effort; there is even a name for it: effortless language acquisition.

The children play.

Nathaniel
Mum?

Jennet
Nathaniel? Nat? Is that you, my love?

Nathaniel
Yes, it's me, Mum. Your Nathaniel.

Jennet
Nathaniel! My child, come to me, I missed you so much.  May I come and hug you, my darling? Who is with you?

Nathaniel
No, mother, you know that you can't. If you try, we will be carried away. There are the other children that you sent to me to play with. We have tried, but we are not very happy.

Jennet
Please tell me why you are not happy; I will do everything to help you, my son.

Nathaniel
We thought that in my old nursery room we may play, but it is dark and cold in here. Can't you feel it?

A child starts crying.

Jennet
Why is he crying?

Nathaniel
He is missing his Mum. He loves her so much. Do you know where she is? He does not to like to play all the time, he wants his Mum to sing him lullabies. And he misses his little brother, his name is Nathaniel, too. Mummy, can you take him to his mother, please?

Other children's voices:
And me, me too, please, I want to my Mum, take me to my Mum...please, please, please ... my Mum

One of the children:
And me, Miss; take me to Crythin Gifford, please, this is a small town where my parents live. I miss my family and school and friends and the marshes. You see, we often play there - my Mum does not like it - but we sneak there on a lovely sunny day in summer to watch birds that swoop to the ground, where they have their nests. Have you seen a baby bird? Or a baby fox? Foxes are clever; the parents of baby birds have to be very careful, one moment and their baby can be taken by foxes. Particularly when the mist comes; oh, the fret is very dangerous, and high tide, too, you cannot get back home, you are trapped at Eel Marsh House because the Nine Lives Causeway is completely submerged. Have you ever been there, Miss? Miss?

Jennet cries and throws herself on the floor. The children vanish quietly.
The sound of the pony trap increases: clip-clop ...

Jennet shouts in madness:
Nathaniel, do not die this night, please, at least not tonight...

It is the beginning of Act 1 Scene 5, with the famous ‘kissing scene’, where Romeo and Juliet meet for the first time. The servants banter while preparing the house for the party; the pleasant, Renaissance music plays, the actors start dancing, the atmosphere is light-hearted and I am waiting for Romeo to take his mask off and to show how deeply he falls in love with Juliet.

At the very moment he does - I am shocked. This Romeo is black! It strikes me heavily, even though I am not sure why. This is not that I am a racist; after all, Otello is black too. I love the theatre, understand its conventions and I am open for experiments on the stage, but yet there is something not right with a black Romeo here. There are some implications concerning that fact: at least some of the other members of his family should be black, and the casting director should take note of this. If this were the case, the feud probably has its roots in racism and then we have another story to tell.

I think that the theatre has some conventions to follow, otherwise the story is improbable or maybe just different. And what if a Romeo is an old ugly man or an old ugly lady or an alien? I am sure that after the first negative impression I would watch the whole tragedy with great pleasure; furthermore, even a black Hamlet would not surprise me in the future. The theatrical conventions have changed, and I have learnt something new, maybe about myself, too.

Susan Hill is a master of creating the atmosphere of suspense and of depicting the landscape as a monstrous space. She uses the gothic sublime craftily, as well as the other Gothic features to build and develop the overwhelming feelings of fear and isolation. The reader follows the first-person narration, sharing characters' fear at the various levels, including fear of: the physical danger, the supernatural forces, the psychological entrapment or losing mind.
Arthur Kipps reveals that [he] 'had a story, a true story, a story of haunting and evil, fear and confusion, horror and tragedy.' (p. 19). Susan Hill uses the literary techniques of repetition (a word 'story'), the rule of three and short phrases with commas to accentuate Arthur's tortured mind while he recalls the past events.

Susan Hill wrote her book in 1983, shortly after she lost her four-week-old daughter, which presumably contributed to the major theme of the book that is how suffering and grief might change a human being into an evil.
The title of the novel with a description: 'A Ghost Story', evokes in the reader some earlier Gothic works such as 'The turn of the screw' by Henry James (1898) - where a woman in black appears for the first time in literature, or 'The Woman in White' by Wilkie Collin (1859) with a very similar title that accentuates the importance of the social context of both books because of the women's position in the society in Victorian and Edwardian eras.
Susan Hill employs all the elements of a gothic novel, which are repeated in many books, and yet she writes a masterpiece of fear and terror so great that putting her book down seems to be impossible.
The book starts with a very short and informative sentence, 'It was nine-thirty on Christmas Eve.' (p. 1) metaphorically nestling the reader in front of the fireplace, ready for more and aware of the Gothic convention. And then we meet our protagonist, the narrator of a story within a story, Artur Kipps, who takes us on a long and life changing journey to the East Coast of North England in the Edwardian Era.
The reader journeys into the feelings of isolation right at the beginning, '... there is an air of remoteness and isolation...' (p. 3), when Arthur Kipps describes his house, Monk's Piece, and anticipates fear when Arthur describes his feelings, 'I could not move, it ... paralysed me ... it was a long-forgotten, once too-familiar sensation.' (p. 17).