between –or even during – sessions at a real-world problem-focused institution.
As co-editor Sohail Inayatullah points out in his introduction, no future is inevitable, and the very act of imagining and thinking through alternative possibilities can directly affect how thoughtfully, creatively and urgently even a dominant technology is adapted and applied. Even in academia学术界, the future belongs to those who care enough to work their visions into practical, sustainable realities.
TEXT B
Every street had a story, every building a memory, Those blessed with wonderful childhoods can drive the streets of their hometowns and happily roll back the years. The rest are pulled home by duty and leave as soon as possible. After Ray Atlee had been in Clanton (his hometown) for fifteen minutes he was anxious to get out.
The town had changed, but then it hadn't. On the highways leading in, the cheap metal buildings and mobile homes were gathering as tightly as possible next to the roads for maximum visibility. This town had no zoning分区制 whatsoever无论什么. A landowner could build anything wiih no permit no inspection, no notice to adjoining邻近的 landowners.
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nothing. Only hog猪 farms and nuclear reactors核反应堆 required approvals and paperwork文书工作. The result was a slash削减-and-build clutter混乱 that got uglier by the year.
But in the older sections, nearer the square, the town had not changed at all The long shaded streets were as clean and neat as when Kay roamed them on his bike. Most of the houses were still owned by people he knew, or if those folks had passed on the new owners kept the lawns clipped修剪整齐的 and the shutters百叶窗 painted. Only a few were being neglected. A handful had been abandoned.
This deep in Bible country, it was still an unwritten rule in the town that little was done on Sundays except go to church, sit on porches, visit neighbours, rest and relax the way God intended.
It was cloudy, quite cool for May, and as he toured his old turf草皮, killing time until the appointed hour for the family meeting, he tried to dwell on细想 the good memories from Clanton. There was Dizzy Dean Park where he had played little League for the Pirates, and (here was the public pool he'd swum in every summer except 1969 when the city closed it rather than admit black children. There were the churches – Baptist浸礼会, Methodist卫理会教派, and Presbyterian长老教会 - facing each
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other at the intersection交叉点 of Second and Elm榆树 like wary谨慎的 sentries哨兵, their steeples尖顶，尖塔 competing for height. They were empty now, hut in an hour or so the more faithful would gather for evening services.
The square was as lifeless as the streets leading to it. With eight thousand people, Clanton was just large enough to have attracted the discount stores that had wiped out so many small towns. But here the people had been faithful to their downtown merchants, and there wasn’t s single empty or boarded-up building around the square – no small miracle. The retail shops were mixed in with the banks and law offices and cafes, all closed for the Sabbath安息日.
He inched慢慢前进 through the cemetery and surveyed the Atlee section in the old part, where the tombstones were grander. Some of his ancestors had built monuments for their dead. Ray had always assumed that the family money he’d never seen must have been buried in those graves. He parked and walked to his mother’s grave, something he hadn’t done in years. She was buried among the Atlees, at the far edge of the family plot because she had barely belonged.
Soon, in less than an hour, he would be sitting in his father’s study,
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sipping啜饮 bad劣质的 instant tea速溶茶 and receiving instructions on exactly how his father would be laid to rest. Many orders were about to be give, many decrees and directions, because his father(who used to be a judge) was a great man and cared deeply about how he was to be remembered.
Moving again, Ray passed the water tower he’d climbed twice, the second time with the police waiting below. He grimaced扮鬼脸 at his old high school, a place he’d never visited since he’d left it. Behind it was the football field where his brother Forrest had romped轻松取胜 over opponents对手 and almost became famous before getting bounced 反弹off the team.
It was twenty minutes before five, Sunday, May 7. Time for the family meeting.
Text C
Campaigning on the Indian frontier is an experience by itself. Neither the landscape nor the people find their counterparts相对应的人或物 in any other portion of the globe. Valley walls rise steeply five or six thousand feet on every side. The columns队列 crawl爬行 through a maze迷宫 of giant corridors走廊 down which fierce snow-fed
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torrents激流 foam under skies of brass黄铜. Amid these scenes of savage野蛮的 brilliancy光辉 there dwells a race whose qualities seem to harmonize with their environment. Except at harvest time, when self-preservation自我保护 requires a temporary truce停战, the Pathan tribes are always engaged in private or public war. Every man is a warrior勇士, a politician and a theologian神学者. Every large house is a real feudal fortress要塞 made, it is true, only of sun-baked晒干的 clay粘土, but with battlements城垛, turrets炮塔, loopholes漏洞, drawbridges吊桥, etc. complete. Every village has its defence. Every family cultivates its vendetta宿怨; every clan宗族，部落, its feud积怨. The numerous tribes and combinations of tribes all have their accounts to settle with one another. Nothing is ever forgotten, and very few debts are left unpaid. For the purposes of social life, in addition to the convention about harvest-time, a most elaborate详尽的 code of honour has been established and is on the whole faithfully observed. A man who knew it and observed it faultlessly might pass unarmed from one end of the frontier to another. The slightest technical slip would, however, be fatal. The life of the Pathan is thus full of interest; and his valleys, nourished alike by endless sunshine and abundant water, are fertile enough to yield with little labour the modest material requirements of a sparse稀少的 population.
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