Pocket Tape-Recorders “Family and Home Magazine” test what's on the market now.

1）Pearlcorder S702 $64

    This simple model at the bottom of the Olympus range scored the most points for its excellent quality of recording. Background noise hardly affects the sound and recording from a pocket is perfectly possible, but it doesn't turn off automatically.

Tape length: 30 minutes per side. Weight:240g.

2）Sony M9 $49.95

    Small and very good looking, sony's latest offering scored most for appearance. Sounds clear, but there is slight machine noise. The big control buttons are a great improvement on some of the complicated little controls on other tape-recorders. Doesn't switch off automatically but a red light shows if the machine is still running.

   Tape length: 60 minutes per side. Weight: 195g.

3）Sony M400 $115

    Lots of little control buttons that make a noise and are difficult to use . Recording was good but machine noise lost points. Tape counter and automatic switch-off when tape has finished recording or rewinding are useful Tape length: 60 minutes per side. Weight: 230g.

4）Imperial OEM. MC $29.95

    Cheap and simple compared with the rest, but recording was good as long as there was no background noise. Use only its own make of cassette. No light to show it is on; no fast forward button and the record button makes a loud noise.

    Tape length: 30 minutes per side. Weight: 285g.

5）Philips 585 $80

    Handsome and simple to use, but recording is very poor at more than the recommended distance of 5 cm-designed for dictation. No recording light. Tape length: 15 minutes per side. Weight: 220g.

    My parents grew up during the Depression(大萧条) attending small country churches. At the close of Christmas Eve services, each child was given a brown paper bag containing an apple, an orange, nuts and several chocolates.

Years later, whenever Dad recalled that tradition, his eyes shone reliving the memory. My mother didn't share his enthusiasm. She always said the chocolates tasted cheap and old.

    Cheap chocolates or not, the paper bags with goodies were an event. Gifts of any sort during the Depression were rare, especially in large farm families with seven children.

    When our children were young and we were home for Christmas one year, Mom and Dad gave each of the grandkids a brown paper bag holding an apple, an orange, nuts and several chocolates. When we finished the 8-hour drive home after the holiday, there was a message waiting on the phone when we walked in the door. “Your ungrateful kids left their apples and oranges in the back of our refrigerator. No more fruit for them!” Grandpa and Grandma were joking, of course, but still there was a degree of disrespect in the kids leaving behind thoughtfully chosen gifts.

    But the paper bag didn't have a context for our children. They had never known fruit to be a scarcity(缺乏). They didn't appreciate the gift because they had never experienced the need the gift was meant to fill.

    The same is true of Christmas today. We don't appreciate the true gift of the season because we don't understand the need the gift was given to fill.

It's not like we don't know we have needs. We know them, all right—patience, love, self-control, strength, courage, faithfulness, forgiveness—it's just that we have become experts at numbing(使麻木) ourselves to our needs.

    The true gift of the season is a perfect fit for our every need. When a gift like apples and oranges fits a need, there is a cheerful satisfaction. When the gift of a Christmas tree fits a need, there is the joy of Christmas.

    A young woman sits alone in a café sipping tea and reading a book. She pauses briefly to write in a nearby notepad before showing her words to a passing café waiter: "Where are the toilets please?" This is a familiar scene in Tokyo's so-called "silent cafés", where customers are not allowed to speak, and only communicate by writing in notepads.

    The concept rises by a desire to be alone among young Japanese, a situation brought by economic uncertainty, a shift in traditional family support structures and the growing social isolation. The phenomenon is not limited to coffee shops but covers everything from silent discos, where participants dance alone wearing wireless headphones connected to the DJ, to products such as small desk tents designed for conversation-free privacy in the office. One Kyoto company even offers single women the opportunity to have a "one woman wedding"—a full bridal affair, complete with white dress and ceremony, and the only thing missing is the groom. The trend has its own media expression-“botchi-zoku”, referring to individuals who consciously choose to do things completely on their own.

    One recent weekday afternoon, Chihiro Higashikokubaru, a 23-year-old nurse, travelled 90 minutes from her home, to Tokyo on her day off in order to enjoy some solo time. Speaking quietly at the entrance of the cafe, Miss Higashikokubaru said: “I heard about this place via Twitter and I like the idea of coming here. I work as a nurse and it's always very busy. There are very few quiet places in Tokyo, and it's a big busy city. I just want to come and sit somewhere quietly on my own. I'm going to drink a cup of tea and maybe do some drawings. I like the idea of a quiet, calm atmosphere.”

    The desire to be isolated is not a new concept in Japan, home to an estimated 3.6 million "hikikomori" - a more extreme example of social recluses(隐士) who withdraw completely from society.

    One of the most firmly established idea of manliness(男子汉) is that a real man doesn't cry. Although he might cry a bit at a funeral, he is expected to quickly regain control. Crying openly is for girls. One study found that women cry significantly more than men do—five times as often, on average, and almost twice as long per period.

    Historically, however, men usually cried, and no one saw it as shameful. For example, in the Middle Ages, knights(骑士) cried only because they missed their girlfriends. In The Knight of the Cart, no less a hero than Lancelot cries at a brief separation from Guinevere. There's no mention of the men in these stories trying to hold back or hide their tears. They cry in a crowded hall with their heads held high. Nor do other people make fun of this public crying; it's universally regarded as an expression of feeling to show love.

    So where did all the male tears go? The most obvious possibility is that this is the result of changes as we moved from an agricultural(农业的) society to one that was urban(城市的)and industrial(工业的). In the Middle Ages, most people spent their lives among those they had known since birth. If men cried, they did so with people who would sympathize(同情). But from the 18^th to 20^th centuries, the population became increasingly urbanize, and people were living in the midst of thousands of strangers. Furthermore, changes in the economy required men to work together in factories and offices where expressions of feelings and even personal conversations were discouraged as time wasting.

    Yet human beings weren't designed to hide their feelings, and there's reason to believe that restraining tears can be harmful to your well-being. Research from the 1980s has suggested a relationship between stress-related illnesses and not enough crying. Crying is also, somewhat related with happiness and wealth. Countries where people cry the most tend to be richer and more confident.

Quantum mechanics (量子力学) is a branch of science that studies the smallest particles (粒子) in the universe, like atoms (原子) and even smaller things. It might sound super complex, but let's break it down in simple language.

Imagine you have a small particle, like an atom. In the world of quantum mechanics, these particles don't behave like the things we see in our everyday lives, like balls or cars. Instead, they act kind of like waves and particles at the same time, which is really strange!

One of the most famous ideas in quantum mechanics is the "Uncertainty Principle", raised by physicist Wemer Heisenberg. This principle says that we can't precisely know both the position and the speed of particle at the same time. It's not because our measuring tools are bad; it's because the particles themselves are naturally uncertain.

Another weird thing about quantum mechanics is something called "Entanglement". Imagine you have two particles that are connected in a special way. If you change one of them, the other instantly changes, no matter how far apart they are. It's like they're talking to each other faster than the speed of light, which goes against what we know from everyday experiences.

Quantum mechanics also deals with probabilities. Instead of saying, "This particle will be here at this exact time," scientists say, "There's a certain chance it'll be here, and a certain chance it won't." It's like predicting the weather, but on a super small scale.

In a nutshell, quantum mechanics is a strange and fascinating world where particles act both like waves and particles, where you can't know everything about a particle at once, and where particles can be mysteriously connected no matter how far apart they are. It's a mind-boggling field that challenges our understanding of how the universe works, and even though it's tough to grasp, it's an essential part of modern physics.