In the old days, children were familiar with birth and death as part of life. Now this is perhaps the first generation of American youngsters who have never been close by during of the birth a baby and have never experienced the death of a family member.

    Nowadays when people grow old, we often send them to nursing homes. When they get sick, we send them to a hospital, where children are forbidden to visit terminally （晚期的）in patients— even when those patients are their parents. This deprives（剥夺）the dying patient of family members during the last few days of his life and it deprives the children of an experience of death, which is an important learning experience.

    Some of my colleagues and I once interviewed and followed about 500 terminally in order to find out what they could teach us and how we could be of more benefit, not just to them but to the members of their families as well. We were most impressed by the fact that even those patients who were not told of their serious illness were quite aware of its potential（潜在的）outcome.

    It is important for family members, and doctors and nurses to understand these patients' communication in order to truly understand their needs, fears and fantasies （幻想）. Most of our patients welcomed another human being with whom they could talk openly, honestly, and frankly about their trouble. Many of them shared with us their great need to be informed, to be kept up —to —date on their medical condition and to be told when the end was near. We found out that patients who had been dealt with openly and frankly were better able to cope with the coming of detach and finally to reach a true stage of acceptance before death.

    Samanta Schweblin, one of the best young Spanish language novelists nominated (提名) by British literary magazine Granta, has visited Beijing to promote the first Chinese edition of a collection of her short stories. The collection, Birds in the Mouth, has been translated and published by Shanghai-based publisher Reader.

    “Sometimes I hold the Chinese edition and choose a story at random and try to guess which one it is. But it is almost impossible for me; even the length is different.” says Schweblin. “When a book is translated into a Western language, I can at least understand some parts of my stories, and therefore suffer some doubt about the quality of the translation. But my Chinese edition is more like an act of faith.”

    Born in Argentina in 1978, Schweblin says she is influenced by the literary traditions of the La Plata area, home to many famous Latin-American novelists.

    Interested in writing stories of ordinary lives where suddenly something extraordinary happens, something new, strange or unknown, she thinks, “The stranger and the unknown are not always related to ghosts or aliens, but can be something related to the known world, something that actually could happen.”

    Birds in the Mouth tells of a divorced father who worries about his 13-year-old daughter and her mysterious appetites. It turns out that his daughter eats live birds.

    The idea for this story came to Schweblin when she was browsing the Internet, “Click, click, click, a picture of a little girl who looks frightened with her hands covering her mouth came to my eyes. Little by little, I developed the story in my mind, and then wrote it down” recalls Schweblin.

    Although there are elements of violence and bloodiness in Schweblin's stories, she skillfully hides them, thinking the trick to writing a thrilling story is to stop the monster from appearing, while maintaining a frightening and mysterious atmosphere.

    It happened to me recently. I was telling someone how much I had enjoyed reading Barack Obama's Dreams From My Father and how it had changed my views (观点）of our President. A friend I was talking to agreed with me that it was, in his words, "a brilliantly (精彩地) written book". However, he then went on to talk about Mr. Obama in a way which suggested he had no idea of his background at all. I sensed that I was talking to a book liar.

    And it seems that my friend is not the only one. Approximately two thirds of people have lied about reading a book which they haven't. In the World Book Day's “Report on Guilty Secrets”. Dreams From My Father is at number 9. The report lists ten books, and various author: which people have lied about reading, and as I'm not one to lie too often (I'd hate to be caught out), I'll admit (承认) here and now that I haven't read the entire (全部的) top ten. But I am pleased to say that, unlike 42 percent of people, I have read the book at number one, George Orwell's 1984.I think it's really brilliant.

    The World Book Day report also has some other interesting information in it. It says that many people lie about having read Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Fyodor Dostoevsky (I haven't read him, but haven't lied about it either) and Herman Melville.

    Asked why they lied, the most common reason was to "impress"（使留下深刻印象) someone they were speaking to. This could be tricky if the conversation became more in-depth!

    But when asked which authors they actually enjoy, people named J. K. Rowling, John Grisham, Sophie Kinsella (ah, the big sellers, in other words). Forty-two percent of people asked admitted they turned to the back of the book to read the end before finishing the story (I'll come clean: I do this and am astonished that 58 percent said they had never done so).

    We may think we're a culture that gets rid of our worn technology at the first sight of something shiny and new, but a new study shows that we keep using our old devices (装置)well after they go out of style. That's bad news for the environment—and our wallets—as these outdated devices consume much more energy than the newer ones that do the same things.

    To figure out how much power these devices are using, Callie Babbitt and her colleagues at the Rochester Institute of Technology in New York tracked the environmental costs for each product throughout its life—from when its minerals are mined to when we stop using the device. This method provided a readout for how home energy use has evolved since the early 1990s.Devices were grouped by generation. Desktop computers, basic mobile phones, and box-set TVs defined 1992.Digital cameras arrived on the scene in 1997.And MP3 players, smart phones, and LCD TVs entered homes in 2002, before tablets and e-readers showed up in 2007.

    As we accumulated more devices, however, we didn't throw out our old ones.“The living-room television is replaced and gets planted in the kids' room, and suddenly one day, you have a TV in every room of the house,” said one researcher. The average number of electronic devices rose from four per household in 1992 to 13 in 2007.We're not just keeping these old devices—we continue to use them. According to the analysis of Babbitt's team, old desktop monitors and box TVs with cathode ray tubes are the worst devices with their energy consumption and contribution to greenhouse gas emissions (排放)more than doubling during the 1992 to 2007 window.

    So what's the solution (解决方案)?The team's data only went up to 2007,but the researchers also explored what would happen if consumers replaced old products with new electronics that serve more than one function, such as a tablet for word processing and TV viewing. They found that more on-demand entertainment viewing on tablets instead of TVs and desktop computers could cut energy consumption by 44%.

    Who can think of the race between the tortoise and the rabbit when it comes to the greatest races? Sure, that race only took place in ancient Aesop's mind, but while the great modern races can teach us a lot about commitment, perseverance (毅力) and the virtues of having a rather large engine, "The Tortoise and the Rabbit" may tell us everything about animals and even vehicles on this planet.

    In a study published this week, Adrian Bejan, a professor of mechanical engineering, concludes that no one should be surprised that the tortoise wins over the seemingly speedier rabbit. In fact, after analyzing the reported speeds of land-air-and-water-based animals, Bejan concludes that the world's well-known speedsters are actually among the slowest when their movements are averaged out over the course of a lifetime.

    The study builds on Bejan's previous research showing that an animals speed increases with mass regardless of species. And that principle can also be extended to non-living things, like aircraft.

    After studying data from historical airplane models, Bajan noted the speed of each model increased with its size, too. That doesn't sound right. What about the modern jet fighter? How is that relatively small craft not faster than a clumsy large transport plane?

    Again, Bejan harks back to the tortoise. That transport plane spends lots of time in the air, moving regularly across long distances. The fighter jet, on the other hand, may fly across the sky occasionally, but-like the rabbit-it's often found resting on the ground.

    The slow and steady transport plane wins the marathon of life.

    But like so many good stories, Aesop's tale offers even more than a lesson in perseverance.

    At one point, the rabbit asks the tortoise how he expects to win a race at such a slow pace.

    The tortoise—ever focused—doesn't respond But it's the rabbits own words that provide the moment to reflect on, especially in modem times.

    "There is plenty of time to relax," Until there isn't.

    Closeness and independence are both important in our life. Though all humans need both of them, women tend to focus on the first and men on the second. It is as if their lifeblood ran in different directions.

    These differences can give women and men differing views of the same situation, as they did in the case of couple I will call Tracy and Brian. When Brian's old high school friend called him at work and announced he'd be in town on business the following month, Brian invited him to stay for the weekend. That evening he informed Tracy that they were going to have a houseguest, and that he and his friend would go out together the first night to chat like old times. Tracy was upset. She was going to be away on business the week before, and the Friday night when Brian would be out with his friend would be her first night home. But what upset her the most was that Brian had made these plans on his own and informed her of them, rather then discussing them with her before extending the invitation.

    Tracy would never make plans, for a weekend or an evening, without first checking with Brian. She can't understand why he doesn't show her the same courtesy and consideration that she shows him. But when she protests, Brian says, "I can't say to my friend, 'I have to ask my wife for permission'!"

    To Brian, checking with his wife means seeking permission, which implies that he is not independent, not free to act on his own. To Tracy, checking with her husband makes her feel good to know and show that she is involved with someone, that her life is bound up with someone else's.

    Tracy and Brian both felt upset by this incident because it cut to the core of their primary concerns. Tracy was hurt because she sensed a failure of closeness in their relationship: He didn't care about her as much as she cared about him. And he was hurt because he felt she was trying to control him and limit his freedom.