There was once a king who wanted to know three things: the right time to do everything, the most necessary people to pay attention to, and the most important thing to do. He thought that knowing these things would ensure his success.↵
He announced that he would reward anyone who could teach him these things. Many people traveled to his palace, but they all provided different answers to his questions.↵
Regarding the first question, some said that the king should make a detailed schedule so that he could always know the perfect time to do everything. Others claimed that he should take every situation into account and wait for the precise moment to act. Still others suggested that he should consult wise men.

Equally various were the answers to the second question. Some said that the members of the king's council were the most important people, while others mentioned priests, doctors, or warriors.↵
In response to the third question, some replied that science was the most important thing, whereas others insisted that it was war or religious worship.↵
The king was not pleased with any of the answers. Still wishing to find the best answers to his questions, the king decided to visit an old hermit who was famous for his wisdom.↵
The hermit lived in a forest and met only ordinary folk, so the king disguised himself as a simple peasant. He ordered his bodyguards to stay behind while he went on alone to seek out the hermit.↵
Reaching the hermit's hut, the king found the old man digging in his garden. The hermit greeted the king and continued digging. The king said, "I have come here to ask you three questions. How can I learn the right time to do everything? Whom do I most need to pay attention to? Finally, what is the most important thing to do?"

The hermit listened carefully but declined to respond. "You must be tired," the king said. "Let me help you with that." The hermit thanked him, handing the king his spade.↵
The king worked for a long time while the hermit watched him silently. Eventually, as the sun was setting, the king stopped and said, "I came to you for answers to my questions. If you can give me none, please let me know so that I can return home."↵
"Someone is running toward us," the hermit said. "Let's see who it is."↵
The king turned and saw a man running out of the woods. When the man reached the king, he fell down. The king could see blood flowing from a large wound in his stomach. The king washed and bandaged the wound, and then he and the hermit carried the man into the hut. The man closed his eyes and fell asleep. Because he was completely exhausted, the king also lay down and slept.

When he awoke in the morning, the man was staring at him.↵
"Forgive me," the man begged.↵
"I don't know you, and I have no reason to forgive you," the king replied.↵
"You might not know me, but I know you," the man answered. "During the last war, you killed my brother and took my property. When I knew that you had gone to see the hermit, I decided to kill you on your way back. However, I came across your bodyguards, who recognized me and wounded me. Although I escaped, I would have died if you hadn't saved my life. Now, my sons and I will serve you forever."↵
Pleased to have made friends with his enemy so easily, the king forgave the man and promised to restore his property. After the man left, the king went outside to talk to the hermit.

"For the last time, I beg you to answer my questions," the king said.↵
"They've already been answered," said the hermit.↵
"What do you mean?" the king asked.↵
"If you hadn't helped me, you would've left, and that man would've attacked you. Therefore, the most important time was when you were digging. I was the most important person, and helping me was the most important thing. Later, the most important time was when you cared for the man. If you hadn't helped him, he would've died, so he was the most important person, and helping him was the most important thing. Remember, there is only one time that is important: now! The person that you are with is the most important person, and doing that person good is the most important thing."

Towering over the East River, the Brooklyn Bridge is one of New York City's famous landmarks. Nowadays, many people take it for granted, but back in the 1800s it was something people only dreamt of. The bridge's construction cost more than $320 million in today's money and the lives of over two dozen people. In particular, the family in charge of the project paid a high price to create the impressive bridge we all know and love today. This is the story of how the Roeblings built the Brooklyn Bridge.↵
In the 1860s, the populations of Manhattan and Brooklyn were rapidly increasing, and so was the number of the commuters between them. Thousands of people took boats and ferries across the East River every day, but these forms of transport were unstable and frequently stopped by bad weather. Many New Yorkers wanted to have a bridge directly connecting Manhattan and Brooklyn because it would make their commute quicker and safer. Unfortunately, because of the East River's great width and rough tides, it would be difficult to build anything on it. It was also a very busy river at that time, with hundreds of ships constantly sailing on it.

Any bridge over the river would need to be a very high suspension bridge. Considering the limited technology in those days, building such a bridge seemed impossible. That is, people thought it was impossible until John Roebling, an expert at building suspension bridges, accepted the challenge.↵
John proposed the use of steel cables - instead of iron ones - that would be six times stronger than needed to support the bridge. In addition, he planned to build two large stone towers to hold up the bridge's road and allow people to walk across it. If his ideas worked, the final result would be the longest, strongest suspension bridge ever built. John's ambition inspired people, so construction began in 1869. However, he was involved in a ferry accident later that year and died of an infection not long after. It looked like his ambitious plan was destined to fail shortly after it had been launched.

Luckily, John's role as chief engineer was succeeded by his son, Washington Roebling. Because he had built bridges with his father and studied bridge construction in Europe, he believed in John's dream. At that time, the foundations for the bridge's two towers were being built in the East River, which was extremely difficult and dangerous work. Workers had to stay at the bottom of the river in a waterproof box with little light and constant danger. Many died or were permanently injured by a serious disease called "the bends," including Washington Roebling. In 1872, he developed this disease and was unable to move easily or visit the construction sites throughout the rest of the project.↵
Other people would have quit at that point, but not Washington. He continued to supervise the bridge building for years by watching it through a telescope from his bedroom. However, there were still many things he could not do despite all his efforts. Once again, the project seemed likely to be abandoned.

To everyone's amazement, yet another Roebling stepped in to save the bridge. This time, it was Washington's wife, Emily Warren Roebling. She believed in what her family had started, and she was determined to see it through. Before marriage, she knew almost nothing about engineering. As her husband's health failed, though, Emily began passing his instructions to the assistant engineers and bringing back their construction reports. In the process, she naturally picked up a lot of information about bridge building. With his assistance, she also studied higher mathematics and engineering so hard that she became an expert in them without ever going to college!↵
By the time the bridge was finished in 1883, Emily was carrying out many of the chief engineer's duties, which was unprecedented for a woman in those days. Many people praised her contributions to the project, and she became the first person to cross the bridge. It was the moment she, Washington, John, and everyone else who built the bridge had worked so hard for.↵
To this day, the Brooklyn Bridge stands as evidence of the Roebling family's persistence. These amazing people made incredible sacrifices and overcame all obstacles to complete a project that seemed impossible to others. Not only did they prove their doubters wrong, but they also achieved an accomplishment that inspired us to do the impossible.

For creatures like us, evolution smiled upon those with a strong need to belong. Survival and reproduction are the criteria of success by natural selection, and forming relationships with other people can be useful for both survival and reproduction. Groups can share resources, care for sick members, scare off predators, fight together against enemies, divide tasks so as to improve efficiency, and contribute to survival in many other ways. In particular, if an individual and a group want the same resource, the group will generally prevail, so competition for resources would especially favor a need to belong. Belongingness will likewise promote reproduction, such as by bringing potential mates into contact with each other, and in particular by keeping parents together to care for their children, who are much more likely to survive if they have more than one caregiver.

It is widely believed that certain herbs somehow magically improve the work of certain organs, and "cure" specific diseases as a result. Such statements are unscientific and groundless. Sometimes herbs appear to work, since they tend to increase your blood circulation in an aggressive attempt by your body to eliminate them from your system. That can create a temporary feeling of a high, which makes it seem as if your health condition has improved. Also, herbs can have a placebo effect, just like any other method, thus helping you feel better. Whatever the case, it is your body that has the intelligence to regain health, and not the herbs. How can herbs have the intelligence needed to direct your body into getting healthier? That is impossible. Try to imagine how herbs might come into your body and intelligently fix your problems. If you try to do that, you will see how impossible it seems. Otherwise, it would mean that herbs are more intelligent than the human body, which is truly hard to believe.

We worry that the robots are taking our jobs, but just as common a problem is that the robots are taking our judgment. In the large warehouses so common behind the scenes of today's economy, human ‘pickers' hurry around grabbing products off shelves and moving them to where they can be packed and dispatched. In their ears are headpieces: the voice of ‘Jennifer', a piece of software, tells them where to go and what to do, controlling the smallest details of their movements. Jennifer breaks down instructions into tiny chunks, to minimise error and maximise productivity ― for example, rather than picking eighteen copies of a book off a shelf, the human worker would be politely instructed to pick five. Then another five. Then yet another five. Then another three. Working in such conditions reduces people to machines made of flesh. Rather than asking us to think or adapt, the Jennifer unit takes over the thought process and treats workers as an inexpensive source of some visual processing and a pair of opposable thumbs.

The demand for freshness can have hidden environmental costs. While freshness is now being used as a term in food marketing as part of a return to nature, the demand for year-round supplies of fresh produce such as soft fruit and exotic vegetables has led to the widespread use of hot houses in cold climates and increasing reliance on total quality control―management by temperature control, use of pesticides and computer/satellite-based logistics. The demand for freshness has also contributed to concerns about food wastage. Use of ‘best before', ‘sell by' and ‘eat by' labels has legally allowed institutional waste. Campaigners have exposed the scandal of over-production and waste. Tristram Stuart, one of the global band of anti-waste campaigners, argues that, with freshly made sandwiches, over-ordering is standard practice across the retail sector to avoid the appearance of empty shelf space, leading to high volumes of waste when supply regularly exceeds demand.

We often associate the concept of temperature with how hot or cold an object feels when we touch it. In this way, our senses provide us with a qualitative indication of temperature. Our senses, however, are unreliable and often mislead us. For example, if you stand in bare feet with one foot on carpet and the other on a tile floor, the tile feels colder than the carpet even though both are at the same temperature. The two objects feel different because tile transfers energy by heat at a higher rate than carpet does. Your skin "measures" the rate of energy transfer by heat rather than the actual temperature. What we need is a reliable and reproducible method for measuring the relative hotness or coldness of objects rather than the rate of energy transfer. Scientists have developed a variety of thermometers for making such quantitative measurements.

In a study at Princeton University in 1992, research scientists looked at two different groups of mice. One group was made intellectually superior by modifying the gene for the glutamate receptor. Glutamate is a brain chemical that is necessary in learning. The other group was genetically manipulated to be intellectually inferior, also done by modifying the gene for the glutamate receptor. The smart mice were then raised in standard cages, while the inferior mice were raised in large cages with toys and exercise wheels and with lots of social interaction. At the end of the study, although the intellectually inferior mice were genetically handicapped, they were able to perform just as well as their genetic superiors. This was a real triumph for nurture over nature. Genes are turned on or off based on what is around you.