After the funeral Claire overhears a woman saying they caught the killer, but Claire is not so certain they have the right man. The story ends with Stuart making a sexual advance on Claire in the kitchen.
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As he reaches for her breasts, she hears water running in the sink and is reminded of the girl floating in the river. Jack Fraser, a young boy, tells the story of a local simpleton and outsider named Dummy who worked in the same sawmill as Jack's father Del. Del gets Dummy to fill a pond on his land with bass, but Dummy eventually builds an electric fence around it so people stop coming by.
Dummy drifts further into isolation and his wife starts going around with another man. The story ends with Dummy murdering his wife and committing suicide by drowning in his beloved pond. Del impresses upon Jack what a wrong woman can turn a man into. Later, Jack understands Dummy's plight more clearly.
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The manuscript version titled "Dummy" appears in Beginners Burt is unable to leave his estranged wife Vera alone. The day after Christmas, Burt comes back to Vera's house to explain away his poor, erratic behavior from the day before. Christmas Day, Burt put too many logs in the fire which could've burned the place down. On his way out to make room for Vera's boyfriend Charlie, who is to arrive after six, Burt steals a couple pies from the kitchen counter. On the 26th Vera does not want to talk to Burt; she doesn't have the time, she has plans.
Burt apologizes but Vera does not think it's very sincere. Burt notices cigarette butts that are not Vera's regular brand collected in the ashtray, "their ashtray," and feels out of place. While Vera is the bathroom the phone rings and she shouts at Burt to answer it. It's a call for Charlie and Burt responds curtly, saying he's "not here" before leaving the phone off the hook.
Vera comes back into the kitchen, and it's clear she cannot tolerate Burt sticking around. The phone rings again it's for Charlie again and Vera says she'll answer it from the bedroom. Instead of hanging up when Vera commands, Burt takes a knife from the cabinet and cuts the cord in two.
Vera realizes what's happened and yells for Burt to leave, saying she'll get a restraining order. Burt leaves calmly and, as he drives away in his car holding the ashtray, he is deludedly positive that in a few weeks they'll have a "serious talk" and get back together. The manuscript version titled "Pie" appears in Beginners A man sitting in a barber's chair getting a haircut listens as three men waiting their turn argue about a hunting story one of the men is telling. A man is packing a suitcase; a woman swears and yells at him, glad he's leaving.
Their baby is crying. The man decides he wants to bring the baby with him but the woman doesn't want him to. The parents get into a tussle and a tug-of-war over the baby. The story ends with the man and the woman pulling tremendously on the baby, with somewhat ambiguously grim results.
A father tells his year-old daughter what life was like for their family when she was a young child. The manuscript version titled "Distance" appears in Beginners At the kitchen table, L. Maxine, the wife, comes home and notices L. Maxine sides with Rae, saying she can like what she likes. In a moment of fury, L. Maxine gives L. Taking one last look around, about to leave for good, L. Mel McGinnis is a year-old cardiologist married to Teresa, also known as Terri. They live together in Albuquerque. The narrator describes Mel as tall and rangy with curly soft hair and Teresa who is Mel's second wife as bone-thin with a pretty face, dark eyes, and brown hair.
Mel and Terri have two friends named Nick and Laura. Nick is 38 years old and is the narrator of the story. Laura is 35, married to Nick, and works as a legal secretary. The setting is Mel's house, around a table with a bucket of ice in the middle. A bottle of gin is inside it.
1. Don’t overwrite
They soon start to talk about love as the title suggests. Terri has had an abusive relationship; the abuse, she says, derives from love. Ed, Terri's former abusive boyfriend, "loved her so much he tried to kill her.
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Terri believed that Ed loved her and his abuse was his way of showing it. No matter what Terri said, Mel refused to believe that was "love". Ed also stalked Mel and Terri and called Mel at work with threatening messages. At one point, Mel was so scared he bought a gun and made out a will. Mel even wrote to his brother in California, saying that "if something happened to him" to look for Ed. Terri's abusive boyfriend eventually committed suicide after two attempts as Terri sees it, another act of love. Ed's first attempt at suicide was when Terri had left him.
Ed had drunk rat poison, but was rushed to the hospital where he was saved. In Ed's second, successful attempt he shot himself in the mouth. Someone heard the shot from Ed's room and called the manager. Terri and Mel argued about whether she could be in the hospital bedroom with him when he died. Terri won and was with Ed as he died; as Terri put it, "He never came up out of it. Soon afterward, Mel begins a story about an elderly couple struck by a drunk driver, a teenager who was pronounced dead at the scene.
The couple survived the car accident because they were wearing seat belts. Mel was called into the hospital that night just as he sat down to dinner. Once he arrived, he saw how badly the elderly couple had been injured. He said that they had "multiple fractures, internal injuries, hemorrhaging, contusions, and lacerations. Mel's point in telling the story was the husband's consternation when the couple was moved into the intensive care unit.
Mel would visit the couple daily, and when he put his ear to the husband's mouth-hole, the latter told Mel he was upset because he could not see his wife through his eye-holes. Mel would stray from the topic with more talk about Ed, his personal thoughts about love, hatred toward his ex-wife, and life as a knight. Mel felt even though one loves a person, if something were to happen to them, the survivor would grieve but love again.
After finishing the second bottle of gin, the couples discuss going to dinner, but no one makes any moves to proceed with their plans. Carver's original draft of the story "Beginners" was heavily edited by Gordon Lish , who cut out nearly half of Carver's story, adding in details of his own. Carver's original draft, released by his widow Tess Gallagher and published  in a December issue of the New Yorker , reveals the extensive edits. For instance, the character Mel was originally named Herb, and the abusive boyfriend, renamed Ed by Lish, was originally named Carl.
Additionally, Herb's story about the old couple was cut nearly in half, with Lish removing the story of the old couple's home life, love, and reunion in the hospital. There are several other instruments that can be used to determine things like angle of attack, either directly or indirectly, such as the pitot tubes, the artificial horizons, etc. All of these things would be cross-checked by a human pilot to quickly diagnose a faulty angle-of-attack sensor. In a pinch, a human pilot could just look out the windshield to confirm visually and directly that, no, the aircraft is not pitched up dangerously.
Unfortunately, the current implementation of MCAS denies that sovereignty. Like someone with narcissistic personality disorder, MCAS gaslights the pilots. And it turns out badly for everyone. In the MCAS system, the flight management computer is blind to any other evidence that it is wrong, including what the pilot sees with his own eyes and what he does when he desperately tries to pull back on the robotic control columns that are biting him, and his passengers, to death.
In the old days, the FAA had armies of aviation engineers in its employ.
Those FAA employees worked side by side with the airplane manufacturers to determine that an airplane was safe and could be certified as airworthy. As airplanes became more complex and the gulf between what the FAA could pay and what an aircraft manufacturer could pay grew larger, more and more of those engineers migrated from the public to the private sector. Now this is not quite as sinister a conflict of interest as it sounds. The industry absolutely relies on the public trust, and every crash is an existential threat to the industry.
No manufacturer is going to employ DERs that just pencil-whip the paperwork. On the other hand, though, after a long day and after the assurance of some software folks, they might just take their word that things will be okay. The people who wrote the code for the original MCAS system were obviously terribly far out of their league and did not know it. How can they implement a software fix, much less give us any comfort that the rest of the flight management software is reliable? That is big strike No.
Big strike No. Finally, the software relied on systems known for their propensity to fail angle-of-attack indicators and did not appear to include even rudimentary provisions to cross-check the outputs of the angle-of-attack sensor against other sensors, or even the other angle-of-attack sensor. None of the above should have passed muster.
I own a Cessna , the most common aircraft in history, at least by production numbers. My autopilot also includes electric pitch trim. If my Cessna is not being flown by the autopilot, the system nonetheless constantly monitors the airplane to make sure that I am not about to stall it, roll it inverted, or a whole host of other things. What, then, are the differences?
It means that the autopilot manufacturer and the FAA both agreed that my Cessna with its Garmin autopilot was so significantly different from what the airplane was when it rolled off the assembly line that it was no longer the same Cessna It was a different aircraft altogether. Of particular note in that documentation, which must be studied and understood by anyone who flies the plane, are various explanations of the autopilot system, including its command of the trim control system and its envelope protections. There are instructions on how to detect when the system malfunctions and how to disable the system, immediately.
Disabling the system means pulling the autopilot circuit breaker; instructions on how to do that are strewn throughout the documentation, repeatedly. Every pilot who flies my plane becomes intimately aware that it is not the same as any other For example, the autopilot itself has a self-contained attitude platform that checks the attitude information coming from the G5 flight computers.
If there is a disagreement, the system simply goes off-line and alerts the pilot that she is now flying manually. Perhaps the biggest difference is in the amount of physical force it takes for the pilot to override the computers in the two planes. In my , there are still cables linking the controls to the flying surfaces. The computer has to press on the same things that I have to press on—and its strength is nowhere near as great as mine.
In my Cessna, humans still win a battle of the wills every time. That used to be a design philosophy of every Boeing aircraft, as well, and one they used against their archrival Airbus, which had a different philosophy. Hardware defects, whether they are engines placed in the wrong place on a plane or O-rings that turn brittle when cold, are notoriously hard to fix. And by hard, I mean expensive.
Software defects, on the other hand, are easy and cheap to fix. All you need to do is post an update and push out a patch. Back in the s, I wrote an article comparing the relative complexity of the Pentium processors of that era, expressed as the number of transistors on the chip, to the complexity of the Windows operating system, expressed as the number of lines of code. I found that the complexity of the Pentium processors and the contemporaneous Windows operating system was roughly equal. It affected only a tiny fraction of Pentium users.
Windows was also affected by similar defects, also affecting only fractions of its users. But the effects on the companies were quite different. Where Windows addressed its small defects with periodic software updates, in Intel recalled the slightly defective processors. I believe the relative ease—not to mention the lack of tangible cost—of software updates has created a cultural laziness within the software engineering community.
Moreover, because more and more of the hardware that we create is monitored and controlled by software, that cultural laziness is now creeping into hardware engineering—like building airliners. The job could be done at any time in the future with a software update. For the life of me, I do not know why those two basic aviation design considerations, bedrocks of a mind-set that has served the industry so well until now, were not part of the original MCAS design.
And, when they were not, I do not know or understand what part of the DER process failed to catch the fundamental design defect. The emphasis on simplicity comes from the work of Charles Perrow , a sociologist at Yale University whose book, Normal Accidents: Living With High-Risk Technologies , tells it all in the very title.
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Though such failures may seem to stem from one or another faulty part or practice, they must be seen as inherent in the system itself. Nowhere is this problem more acutely felt than in systems designed to augment or improve safety. Every increment, every increase in complexity, ultimately leads to decreasing rates of return and, finally, to negative returns.
Trying to patch and then repatch such a system in an attempt to make it safer can end up making it less safe. The original FAA Eisenhower-era certification requirement was a testament to simplicity: Planes should not exhibit significant pitch changes with changes in engine power. Because of that, the requirement—when written—rightly imposed a discipline of simplicity on the design of the airframe itself.
Now software stands between man and machine, and no one seems to know exactly what is going on. Things have become too complex to understand. In the Challenger case, the rules said that they had to have prelaunch conferences to ascertain flight readiness. The inputs were weighed, the process was followed, and a majority consensus was to launch. And seven people died. And people are dead. It is likely that MCAS, originally added in the spirit of increasing safety, has now killed more people than it could have ever saved.
It needs to be removed altogether. An earlier version of this article was cited in EE Times. Gregory Travis is a writer, a software executive, a pilot, and an aircraft owner.