Bertrand Russell

The good life is one inspired by love and guided by knowledge.

Archive for January, 2008

Glass of wine ’safe’ for pregnant women

Drinking a small glass of wine every day is safe for pregnant women, a British health watchdog has suggested.

The National Institute of Clinical Excellence’s (NICE) new draft guidance contradicts the British government’s official advice which is for pregnant women and those trying to conceive to avoid alcohol altogether.

The institute says pregnant women can safely consume up to 1.5 units of alcohol - the equivalent of a 125ml glass of wine or a 25ml measure of spirits - a day after the first three months of pregnancy.

Its recommendation says there was “no consistent evidence” suggesting that small amount of alcohol damages unborn children.

A NICE spokesman said the guidance was developed by experts who carried out a review of all available evidence on the risks facing pregnant women who drink alcohol.

“The experts have concluded that there is no consistent evidence of adverse effects from low to moderate alcohol during pregnancy (less than one drink or 1.5 units per day) but the evidence is probably not strong enough to rule out any risk,” the spokesman told The Times.
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The draft guidelines are due to be published in full next March.

The Five Roles of a Great Leader

Vogan: Why is it important for a leader to reflect on where the company’s been?
Good: Just as people want to know where your company’s headed, they also want to know where the company’s been. In this, leaders are playing the role of historian. You can humanize your Business, especially one that’s product-driven, by creating strong messages around your company’s origins.

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Vogan: What communication style do you think is most important to the role of leader?
Good: I believe that serving the role of ambassador is the most important communication style you can adopt as a leader. You’re the “face” of your company. It’s vital to portray an image during meetings, employee one-on-ones, media interviews and other public events that’s congruent with your company’s overall vision, mission and values. Think about watching the evening broadcast news: Headline-grabbing CEOs are personable, conversational and charismatic, no matter what the news may be. This is the ultimate leadership role.
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The Tell-Tale Heart

   When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little - a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it - you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily - until, at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.wow gold
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    It was open - wide, wide open - and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness - all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man’s face or person: for I had directed the ray as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.
    And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over acuteness of the senses? - now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man’s heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.
    But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man’s terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! - do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me - the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man’s hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once - once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.