网上人才招聘系统

应聘人来公司面试或笔试。单击表中申请人的名字，可以链接到个人基本信息页面，查看个人简历，从而决定应聘人员是否符合本公司要求， 4.5.2 查看求职信息列表 企业用户不仅可以看到申请职位的用户的简历，还可以查看所有的求职信息，单击姓名，可以超链接到他的个人简历。并搜索想要的人才，如果找到，就可以用用户留下的联系方式直接与其联系。求职界面如图15所示: 图15 求职信息界面 第 23 页 共 27 页 4.6 新闻模块设计 4.6.1 浏览新闻界面 所有用户登录后的主界面的主窗口显示的都是新闻浏览界面如图16所示: 图16 新闻浏览界面 在新闻浏览页面中的近期新闻为最新发布的新闻，重要新闻点击率最高的新闻，图片新闻中从图片新闻中选出最新发表的有图片新闻和点击率高的有图片的新闻。 从数据库中提取图片代码: String=”select top 10 “+id,title,dercr=+’ ’SUBSTRING (content,0,50)+’„..’,image=casewhen(notpictureisnull)then(‘< img src=upload/’+picture+’ Boder=1 whidth=70 height=100>’ else’’end form news order by hits DESC”; 上面SQL查询语句间news 表picture列的信息取出并内嵌在一个html的img 控件中，作为该控件的src字段的值，就完成了从数据库中取出图片并完成显示的功能。在前面的界面中，单击某条新闻标题可以查看新闻详细信息。 结 论 在具有良好的可视化的编程环境ASP.NET C(#)2.0下，在编程的过程中就可以对所做的模块进行运行调试,发现错误，就可以立即进行改正。经过不断地修改和更正，本系统已运行结果正常，系统达到了拥有丰富的信息容量、良好的人机交互界面、快捷的检索效果。 由于时间比较紧张，加上自己本身在编程方面的能力比较有限，该系统势还存在着一定的问题。作为一个短时间内完成的实用性软件，全面性方面肯定 第 24 页 共 27 页 还有不少的欠缺。如本系统企业模块考虑到的方面就不是很全面，如还可以给企业加个留言板以便应聘者可以给企业留言。总的来讲，该系统能够完成简单的网上招聘/求职。但是不能算是一个功能很强大的系统，它和一个功能强大的网络招聘系统比较起来，还有一定的差距。希望可以通过以后的学习能够不断的完善和强大本系统的功能。通过本次课题的研究，我不但学习到了如何构建一个大型复杂的ASP.NET系统，在编程过程如何代码和如何有效的调试代码也积累了不少的经验。 参考文献 [1] 杨昆鹏,孟凡绮. ASP.NET+SQL Server动态网站开发[M].北京:电子工业出版社，2005。 [4]方睿,刁仁宏,吴四九.网络数据库原理及运用[M].成都:四川大学出版社，2005。 [3] 吴财军. C#经典范例50讲[M].北京:北京希望电子出版社，2003。 [4]曹斌,韩中孝.ASP.NET数据库项目开发实践[M].北京:科学出版社，2005。 [5] 王兴晶.Visual Basic.NET数据库开发典型实例[M].北京:电子工业出版社，2002.9。 [6] 孙三才,张智凯.C#与.net Framework实战演练[M].北京:中国铁道出版社，2002。 [7] 托特斯基[美]. C#.NET Web开发指南[M].北京:机械工业出版社 2003.1。 [8] 索传军. 中国网络招聘研究[J] .图书情报知识,2005,(5):50-53。 第 25 页 共 27 页 致 谢 本文是在吴四九,陈念伟老师的热情关心和指导下完成的，他渊博的知识和严谨的治学作风使我受益匪浅，对顺利完成本课题起到了极大的作用。在此向他表示我最衷心的感谢～ 感谢吴四九,陈念伟老师在课题研究初期给予的帮助，在他的帮助下课题才得以很好的展开，有了一个很好的开端～感谢牛骏杰同学在系统测试时给予的帮助，因为他的协助，才得以高效率的圆满完成了该系统～ 在论文完成过程中，本人还得到了其他老师和许多同学的热心帮助，本人向他们表示深深的谢意～ 最后向在百忙之中评审本文的各位专家、老师表示衷心的感谢～ 作者简介 姓 名:黎其声 性别:男 出生年月:1983年10月 民族:壮 E-mail:liqisheng198396@yahoo.com.cn 第 26 页 共 27 页 声 明 本论文是2007年2月至2007年6月在成都信息工程学院网络工程系完成的。文中除了特别加以标注地方外，不包含他人已经发表或撰写过的研究成果，也不包含为获得成都信息工程学院或其他教学机构的学位或证书而使用过的材料。除非另有说明，本文的工作是原始性工作。关于学位论文使用权和研究成果知识产权的说明: 本人完全了解成都信息工程学院有关保管使用学位论文的规定，其中包括: (1)学校有权保管并向有关部门递交学位论文的原件与复印件。 (2)学校可以采用影印、缩印或其他复制方式保存学位论文。 (3)学校可以学术交流为目的复制、赠送和交换学位论文。 (4)学校可允许学位论文被查阅或借阅。 (5)学校可以公布学位论文的全部或部分内容(保密学位论文在解密后遵守此规定)。 除非另有科研和其他法律文书的制约，本论文的科研成果属于成都信息工程学院。 特此声明～ 作者签名: 2007年06月10日 第 27 页 共 27 页 Billy saw service with the infantry in Europe, and was taken prisoner by the Germans. After his honorable discharge from the Army in 1945, Billy again enrolled in the Ilium School of Optometry. During his senior year there, he became engaged to the daughter of the founder and owner of the school, and then suffered a mild nervous collapse. He was treated in a veterans' hospital near Lake Placid, and was given shock treatments and released. He married his fianc閑, finished his education, and was set up in business in Ilium by his father-in-law. Ilium is a particularly good city for optometrists because the General Forge and Foundry Company is there. Every employee is required to own a pair of safety glasses, and to wear them in areas where manufacturing is going on. GF&F has sixty-eight thousand employees in Ilium. That calls for a lot of lenses and a lot of frames. Frames are where the money istion of coal-mines was far distant and there was no dread of scarcity. There were still extensive mines to be worked in the two Americas. The manufactories, appropriated to so many different uses, locomotives, steamers, gas works, &c., were not likely to fail for want of the mineral fuel; but the consumption had so increased during the last few years, that certain beds had been exhausted even to their smallest veins. Now deserted, these mines perforated the ground with their useless shafts and forsaken galleries. This was exactly the case with the pits of Aberfoyle. Ten years before, the last butty had raised the last ton of coal from this colliery. The underground working stock, traction engines, trucks which run on rails along the galleries, subterranean tramways, frames to support the shaft, pipes -- in short, all that constituted the machinery of a mine had been brought up from its depths. The exhausted mine was like the body of a huge fantastically-shaped mastodon, from which all the organs of life have been taken, and only the skeleton remains. Nothing was left but long wooden ladders, down the Yarrow shaft -- the s, carpenters, outside and inside laborers, women, children, and old men, all were collected in the great yard of the Dochart pit, formerly heaped with coal from the mine. Many of these families had existed for generations in the mine of old Aberfoyle; they were now driven to seek the means of subsistence elsewhere, and they waited sadly to bid farewell to the engineer. James Starr stood upright, at the door of the vast shed in which he had for so many years superintended the powerful machines of the shaft. Simon Ford, the foreman of the Dochart pit, then fifty-five years of age, and other managers and overseers, surrounded him. James Starr took off his hat. The miners, cap in hand, kept a profound silence. This farewell scene was of a touching character, not wanting in grandeur. "My friends," said the engineer, "the time has come for us to 第 28 页 共 27 页 separate. The Aberfoyle mines, which for so many years have united us in a common work, are now exhausted. All our researches have not led to the discovery of a new vein, and the last block of coal has just been extracted from the Dochart pit." And in confirmation of his words, James Starr pointed to a lump of coal which had been kept at the bottom of a basket. "This piece of coal, my friends," resumed James Starr, "is like the last drop of blood which has flowed through the veins of the mine! We shall keep it, as the first fragment of coal is kept, which was extracted a hundred and fifty years ago from the bearings of Aberfoyle. Between these two pieces, how many generations of workmen have succeeded each other in our pits! Now, it is over! The last words which your engineer will address to you are a farewell. You have lived in this mine, which your hands have emptied. The work has been hard, but not without profit for you. Our great family mustrent pits came forward to shake hands with him, whilst the miners waved their caps, shouting, "Farewell, James Starr, our master and our friend!" This farewell would leave a lasting remembrance in all these honest hearts. Slowly and sadly the population quitted the yard. The black soil of the roads leading to the Dochart pit resounded for the last time to the tread of miners' feet, and silence succeeded to the bustling life which had till then filled the Aberfoyle mines. One man alone remained by James Starr. This was the overman, Simon Ford. Near him stood a boy, about fifteen years of age, who for some years already had been employed down below. James Starr and Simon Ford knew and esteemed each other well. "Good-by, Simon," said the engineer. "Good-by, Mr. Starr," replied the overman, "let me add, till we meet again!" Bill became rich. He had two children, Barbara and Robert. In time, his daughter Barbara married another optometrist., and Billy set him up in business. Billy's son Robert had a lot of trouble in high school, but then he joined the famous Green Berets. He straightened out, became a fine Young man, and he fought in Vietnam. Early in 1968, a group of optometrists, with Billy among them, chartered an airplane to fly them from Ilium to an international convention of optometrists in Montreal. The plane crashed on top of Sugarbush Mountain, in Vermont. Everybody was killed but Billy. So it goes. While Billy was recuperating in a hospital in Vermont, his wife died accidentally of carbon-monoxide poisoning. So it goes. When Billy finally got home to Ilium after the airplane crash, he was quiet for a while. He had a terrible scar across the top Of his skull. He didn't resume practice. He had a housekeeper. His daughter came over almost every day. And then, without any warning, Billy went to New York City, and got on an all-night radio program devoted to talk. He told about having come unstuck in time. He said, too, that he had been kidnapped by a flying saucer in 1967. The saucer was from the planet Tralfamadore, he said. He was taken to Tralfamadore, where he was displayed naked in a zoo, he said. He was mated there with a former Earthling movie star named Montana Wildhack. 第 29 页 共 27 页 Some night owls in Ilium heard Billy on the radio, and one of them called Billy's daughter Barbara. Barbara was upset. She and her husband went down to New York and brought Billy home. Billy insisted mildly that everything he had said on the radio was true. He said he had been kidnapped by the Tralfamadorians on the night of his daughter's wedding. He hadn't been missed, he said, because the Tralfamadorians had taken him through a time warp, so that he could be on Tralfamadore for years, and still be away from Earth for only a microsecond. Another month went by without incident, and then Billy wrote a letter to the Ilium News Leader, which the paper published. It described the creatures from Tralfamadore. The letter said that they were two feet high, and green., and shaped like plumber's friends. Their suction cups were on the ground, and their shafts, which were extremely flexible, usually pointed to the sky. At the top of each shaft was a little hand with a green eye in its palm. The creatures were friendly, and they could see in four dimensions. They pitied Earthlings for being able to see only three. They had many wonderful things to teach Earthlings, especially about time. Billy promised to tell what some of those wonderful things were in his next letter. Billy was working on his second letter when the first letter was published. The second letter started out like this: 'The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist. The Tralfamadorians can look at all the different moments just that way we can look at a stretch of the Rocky Mountains, for instance. They can see how permanent all the moments are, and they can look at any moment that interests them. It is just an illusion we have here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone it is gone forever. 'When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in a bad condition in that particular moment, but that the same person is just fine in plenty of other moments. Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say what the Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is "so it goes."' And so on. Billy was working on this letter in the basement rumpus room of his empty house. It was his housekeeper's day off. There was an old typewriter in the rumpus room. It was a beast. It weighed as much as a storage battery. Billy couldn't carry it very far very easily, which was why he was writing in the rumpus room instead of somewhere else. The oil burner had quit. A mouse had eaten through the insulation of a wire leading to the thermostat. The temperature in the house was down to fifty degrees, but Billy hadn't noticed. He wasn't warmly dressed, either. He was barefoot, and still in his pajamas and a bathrobe, though it was late afternoon. His bare feet were blue and ivory. The cockles of Billy's heart, at any rate, were glowing coals. What made them so hot was Billy's belief that he was going to comfort so many people with the truth about time. His door chimes upstairs had been ringing and ringing. It was his daughter Barbara up there wanting in. Now she let herself in with a key, crossed the floor over his head calling, 'Father? Daddy, where are you?' And so on. Billy didn't answer her, so she was nearly hysterical, expecting to find his corpse. And then she looked into the very last place there was to look-which was the rumpus room. 'Why didn't you answer me when I called?' Barbara wanted to know, standing there in the door of the rumpus room. She had the afternoon paper with her, the one in which Billy described his friends from Tralfamadore. 'I didn't hear you,' said Billy. The orchestration of the moment was this: Barbara was only twenty-one years old, but she thought her father was senile, even though he was only forty-six-senile because of damage to his brain in the airplane crash. She also thought that she was head of the family, since she had had to manage her mother's funeral, since she had to get a housekeeper for Billy, and all that. Also, Barbara and her husband were having to look after Billy's business interests, which were considerable, since Billy didn't seem to give a damn for business any more. All this responsibility at such an early age made her a bitchy flibbertigibbet. And Billy, meanwhile, was trying to hang onto his dignity, to persuade Barbara and everybody else that he was far from senile, that, on the contrary, he was devoting himself to a calling much higher than mere business. 第 30 页 共 27 页 He was doing nothing less now, he thought, then prescribing corrective lenses for Earthling souls. So many of those souls were lost and wretched, Billy believed, because they could not see as well as Ws little green friends on Tralfamadore. 'Don't lie to me, Father,' said Barbara. 'I know perfectly well you heard me when I called.' This was a fairly pretty girl, except that she had legs like an Edwardian grand piano. Now she raised hell with him about the letter in the paper. She said he was making a laughing stock of himself and everybody associated with him. 'Father, Father, Father,' said Barbara, 'what are we going to do with you? Are you going to force us to put you where your mother is?' Billy's mother was still alive. She was in bed in an old people's home called Pine Knoll on the edge of Ilium. 'What is it about my letter that makes you so mad?' Billy wanted to know. 'It's all just crazy. None of it's true! ' 'It's all true. ' Bill's anger was not going to rise with hers. He never got mad at anything. He was wonderful that way. 'There is no such planet as Tralfamadore.' 'It can't be detected from Earth, if that's what you mean,' said Billy. 'Earth can't be detected from Tralfamadore, as far as that goes. They're both very small. They're very far apart.' 'Where did you get a crazy name like "Tralfamadore?"' 'That's what the creatures who live there call it. 'Oh God,' said Barbara, and she turned her back on him. She celebrated frustration by clapping her hands. 'May I ask you a simple question?' 'Of course.' 'Why is it you never mentioned any of this before the airplane crash?' 'I didn't think the time was ripe.' And so on. Billy says that he first came unstuck in time in 1944, long before his trip to Tralfamadore. The Tralfamadorians didn't have anything to do with his coming unstuck They were simply able to give him insights into what was really going on. Billy first came unstuck while the Second World War was in progress. Billy was a chaplain's assistant in the war. A chaplain's assistant is customarily a figure of fun in the American Army. Billy was no exception. He was powerless to harm the enemy or to help his friends. In fact, he had no friends. He was a valet to a preacher, expected no promotions or medals, bore no arms, and had a meek faith in a loving Jesus which most soldiers found putrid. While on maneuvers in South Carolina, Billy played hymns he knew from childhood, played them on a little black organ which was waterproof. It had thirty-nine keys and two stops- vox humana and vox celeste. Billy also had charge of a portable altar, an olive-drab attach?case with telescoping legs. It was lined with crimson plush, and nestled in that passionate plush were an anodized aluminum cross and a Bible. The altar and the organ were made by a vacuum-cleaner company in Camden, New Jersey-and said so. One time on maneuvers Billy was playing 'A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,' with music by Johann Sebastian Bach and words by Martin Luther. It was Sunday morning. Billy and his chaplain had gathered a congregatation of about fifty soldiers on a Carolina hillside. An umpire appeared. There were umpires everywhere, men who said who was winning or losing the theoretical battle, who was alive and who was dead. The umpire had comical news. The congregation had been theoretically spotted from the air by a theoretical enemy. They Were all theoretically dead now. The theoretical corpses laughed and ate a hearty noontime meal. Remembering this incident years later, Billy was struck by what a Tralfamadorian adventure with death that had been, to be dead and to eat at the same time. Toward the end of maneuvers., Billy was given an emergency furlough home because his father, a barber in Ilium, New York, was shot dead by a friend while they were out hunting deer. So it goes. When Billy got back from his furlough., there were orders for him to go overseas. He was needed in the headquarters company of an infantry regiment fighting in Luxembourg. The regimental chaplain's assistant had been killed in action. So it goes. 第 31 页 共 27 页 When Billy joined the regiment, it was in the process of being destroyed by the Germans in the famous Battle of the Bulge. Billy never even got to meet the chaplain he was supposed to assist, was never even issued a steel helmet and combat boots. This was in December of 1944, during the last mighty German attack of the war. Billy survived, but he was a dazed wanderer far behind the new German lines. Three other wanderers, not quite so dazed, allowed Billy to tag along. Two of them were scouts, and one was an antitank gunner. They were without food or maps. Avoiding Germans they were delivering themselves into rural silences ever more profound. They ate snow. They went Indian file. First came the scouts, clever, graceful quiet. They had rifles. Next came the antitank gunner, clumsy and dense, warning Germans away with a Colt .45 automatic in one hand and a trench knife in the other. Last came Billy Pilgrim, empty-handed, bleakly ready for death. Billy was Preposterous-six feet and three inches tall, with a chest and shoulders like a box of kitchen matches. He had no helmet, no overcoat, no weapon and no boots. On his feet were cheap, low-cut civilian shoes which he had bought for his father's funeral. Billy had lost a heel, which made him bob up-and-down, up-and-down. The involuntary dancing up and down, up and down, made his hip joints sore. 000. Fax: 0161 3552098. e-mail: enquiries@nlbuk.org Registered Charity No: 213212. 1998 extension For my dear seer, Vicky The Robinswood Press Stourbridge 1995 This work is copyright and permission to copy for the use of braille readers and those using the NLB web site has been given by the copyright owner. This permission is gratefully acknowledged. No unauthorised broadcasting, public performance or copying is permitted. "If all the beasts were gone, men would die from great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts soon happens to man. All things are connected ... The earth does not belong to man: man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood which unites one family ... Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life: he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself."--Red Indian Chief Seathl in a letter to Franklin Pierce, President of the United States, 1855. extension The book's background details are as accurate and authentic as I can make them. But, here and there, I have "played" with the facts for the sake of telling a dramatic story. For example, there is no Marine Mammal Center in Santa Barbara, though similar institutions do exist elsewhere. The ship Sea Shepherd is an invention, in no way linked to the conservation charity of that name or any of its vessels. A.W. extension Acknowledgements I am indebted to Curt Marlin for his constant encouragement during the writing of this book. My research for The Eden Mission was greatly aided by many generous experts. Space permits me to name only a few. They are Professor Sir Ghillean Prance, Director of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew; Jonathan Shanklin, of the British Antarctic Survey; Dr. Bernard Stonehouse, of the Scott Polar Research Institute; Tim Inskipp, of the World Conservation Monitoring Centre; Amanda Hillier, of the Fauna and Flora Preservation Society; Carol McKenna, of Respect for 第 32 页 共 27 页 Animals; marine engineer Keith Norledge. I must also acknowledge invaluable help from staff of the following: the World Wide Fund for Nature, Greenpeace, Friends of the Earth, the Environmental Investigation Agency, BirdLife International, BBC Bristol, the Natural History Museum, the Geological Museum, the Meteorological Office, the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, the University of East Anglia, the American Cetacean Society, the Florida Department of Commerce, and Orlando's Sea World. extension FOREWORD The world--and it's the only one we've got--is in a terrible mess from misuse and neglect. Eco-terrorists and vested interests abound, polluting rivers, lakes and seas, draining wetlands, destroying ancient forests and trading in endangered species. The Eden Mission, though a work of fiction, brings the real live world of conservation and the fight to save the planet to a whole new audience. It also proves that it is not too late for us all to do our bit to save the Earth. David Bellamy The Conservation Foundation extension PREFACE Not so long ago, the term "greenhouse effect" meant little to most people. Something to do with gardening ...? How different now! Now that the environment is a matter of major concern, now that we are becoming ecologically educated. But how much has changed, really changed, in recent years? Certainly politicians and scientists have made a start on trying to curb the worst abuses to our world. And, happily, some of those mentioned in my novel are declining. Others, though, are on the increase. So, far from being able to relax, conservationists are busier than ever. Underlying all this are enormous problems: the widening gap between rich and poor, the fact that four-fifths of global resources are consumed by one-fifth of the population, the arrival each second of three new mouths to feed. What of the solutions? Perhaps the main hope, idealistic though it may seem, is that humanity will see sense. The Earth, not money, is the only true wealth. It's our collective home to be shared with our fellows and fellow creatures. Maybe the rich must become poorer, accept a lowering of their material standards, so that the poor can become richer. Maybe the technology that helped get us into this mess cannot get us out, and humankind will have to return to a simpler way of life. Maybe ... What do you think? out a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. This book is published at a net price and is supplied subject to the Publishers Association Standard Conditions of Sale registered under the Restrictive Trade Practices Act, 1956. 第 33 页 共 27 页 Grateful acknowledgment is made for permission to reprint the following material: 'The Waking': copyright 1953 by Theodore Roethke from THE COLLECTED POEMS OF THEODORE ROETHKE printed by permission of Doubleday & Company, Inc. THE DESTRUCTION OF DRESDEN by David Irving: From the Introduction by Ira C. Eaker, Lt. Gen. USAF (RET.) and Foreword by Air Marshall Sir Robert Saundby. Copyright 1963 by William Kimber and Co. Limited. Reprinted by permission of Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc. and William Kimber and Co. Limited. 'Leven Cent Cotton' by Bob Miller and Emma Dermer: Copyright 1928, 1929 by MCA Music, a Division of MCA Inc. Copyright renewed 1955,1956 and assigned to MCA Music, a division of MCA Inc. Used by permission. I work in Wisconsin... And so on to infinity. Over the years, people I've met have often asked me what I'm working on, and I've usually replied that the main thing was a book about Dresden. I said that to Harrison Starr, the movie-maker, one time, and he raised his eyebrows and inquired, 'Is it an anti-war book?' 'Yes,' I said. 'I guess.' 'You know what I say to people when I hear they're writing anti-war books?' 'No. What do you say, Harrison Starr?' 'I say, "Why don't you write an anti-glacier book instead?"' What he meant, of course, was that there would always be wars, that they were as easy to stop as glaciers. I believe that too. And they're all grown up now, and I'm an old fart with his memories and his Pall Malls. My name is Yon Yonson, I work in Wisconsin, I work in a lumbermill there. Sometimes I try to call up old girl friends on the telephone late at night, after my wife has gone to bed. 'Operator, I wonder if you could give me the number of a Mrs. So-and-So. I think she lives at such-and-such.' 'I'm sorry, sir. There is no such listing.' 'Thanks, Operator. Thanks just the same.' And I let the dog out or I let him in, and we talk some. I let him know I like him, and he lets me know he likes me. He doesn't mind the smell of mustard gas and roses. 'You're all right, Sandy, I'll say to the dog. 'You know that, Sandy? You're O.K.' Sometimes I'll turn on the radio and listen to a talk program from Boston or New York. I can't stand recorded music if I've been drinking a good deal. Sooner or later I go to bed, and my wife asks me what time it is. She always has to know the time. Sometimes I don't know, and I say, 'Search me.' I think about my education sometimes. I went to the University of Chicago for a while after the Second World War. I was a student in the Department of Anthropology. At that time, they were teaching that there was absolutely no difference between anybody. They may be teaching that still. Another thing they taught was that nobody was ridiculous or bad or disgusting. Shortly before my father died, he said to me, 'You know-you never wrote a story with a villain in it.' I told him that was one of the things I learned in college after the war. While I was studying to be an anthropologist, I was also working as a police reporter for the famous Chicago City News Bureau for twenty-eight dollars a week. One time they switched me from the night shift to the day shift., so I worked sixteen hours straight. We were supported by all the newspapers in town, 第 34 页 共 27 页 and the AP and the UP and all that. And we would cover the courts and the police stations and the Fire Department and the Coast Guard out on Lake Michigan and all that. We were connected to the institutions that supported us by means of pneumatic tubes which ran under the streets of Chicago. 第 35 页 共 27 页