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- Pridružio: 06 Sep 2009
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Ako neko može da mi prevede ovaj text molim vas ali u smislu naseg jezika jer mi stvarno hitno treba...Ja sam pokusavao ali ne ide mi nikako...nisam hteo staviti svoj prevod da mi se ne smejete....Molim vas jer mi je ovo od velikog znacaja.Ovo je taj text:
Many people will know about Lance Armstrongs seven wins in the Tour de France, but fewer people will have heard of his batlle with cancer.In the summer of 1996, everything must have been going perfectly for the twenty-five-year-old Texan cyclist. He had just won a major race and was ranked seventh in the world. He had been offered contracts by big sporting companies as Nike, and did not need to worry about money. His future looked bright. Then, in September 1996, Armstrong went to the doctor with a pain. He should have gone earlier but he had ignored the pain so that he could continue racing. When he went to the doctor that day, he could not have known what about happen to him. Within two hours, he had been diagnosed as having cancer which had spread to his lungs. There was 60% chance he would survive and 40% chance he might die. Lance put his head on the doctors desk in despair. However, when he looked up he said with determination: „ Lets get started. Lets kill this stuff.“ In the next few few months, he had to have two operations and to undergo chemotherapy treatment. He lost weight and felt so tired that he had to sleep twelve hours a day. But throughout his battle witk cancer, Armstrong was determined not to let it beat him. After months of suffering, Armstrong recovered enough to start his battle: to win the Tour de France. During periods when he did not have tohave chemotherapy, he rode his bike 30 to 50 miles a day. By the summer of 1999, he did not need to take any more medication and, according to his doctors, was 98% „home“ in his battle against cancer. Many people doubted Armstrongs ability to become a top cyclist agaim but they need not have worried. This young man must have a special kind of drive. Between 1999 and 2005, Armstrong became the first rider ever to win the Tour de France an amazing seven times. Lance Armstrong is now a sporting superstar. He does not have to worry about proving himself any more. However, we must not forget that he is different from other stars. Lance Armstrong is, of course, now more than a sports stat- he is a symbol in the fight against cancer. The Lance Armstrong Foundation has sold nearly 50 million wristbands to raise money for cance sufferers. In his autobiography, Armstrong gives to young men between the ages of 20-34 who should be aware of the disease he suffered. „ I never thought I would get cancer“ he says „ But young, strong men must realise that this can happen to them, too“.
Every week we invite a well-known personality to speak about an issue in the news. This week, Sophie Maclean looks at cloning and asks.... Does Mother Nature know best ? Cloning- using genetic engineering to make exact copies of living plants and animals- has been in science fiction for years. Since 1997, with the cloning of a sheep, Dolly, has became part of real life and subject of piblic debate. For some people cloning is acceptable in medicine. Despite the criticism that it is unnatural. For example, human tissue can be cloned for use in organ replacment or gene therapy. Also, organs provided by human clones could be 100% donor compatible whereas organs provided in other ways might not be as successful. Moreover, couples who can not have children might be able to clone a child from themselves. Finally, endangered animals could be cloned to increase their numbers. On the other hand, there are many arguments against cloning. However many people saw the cloning of Dolly as a major breakthrough, now they have to face the fact that the sheep is no longer alive. Thus, although what some say scientists have no idea of long- term effect of genetic engineering. A growing number of genetically created creatures might be acceptable to society; On the other hand creating“perfect“ plants and animals could eliminate the great variety of natural species on our planet. Furthermore, even though organs from cloned animals could be transplanted into humans, the risks to health are enormous, and some people find the idea repulsive.
All things considered, I am against clonimg. It is clear to me that we need to regulate genetic engineering and stop experiments now, before it is too late.
If the current Olympic champion took such drugs, she would probably have broken that world record more than once. Unless we are careful „ gene-doping“ will be the next big threat. For medical purposes, scientists have already found ways to build muscle and increase stamina through gene therapy. If therapy were used now, it would be almost impossible to detect. In the future, genetically-modified athletes might be able to run the 100 metres in 8 seconds or the marathon in under two hours. However, if a generation of genetic monsters were created, it would show that the whole point of sport has been lost. It would be much better to forget the records and retun to the original Original spirit – taking part is more important than wininig.
In December 1951, two young men, a biochemist and a medical student, set out on journey from their native Argentina through Chike, Peru and Brazil to the United States of America.The biochemist was Alberto Grand; his companion was twenty-three-year-old Ernesto Guevara, the future revolutionary and cultural icon. Here are three extracts from Guevaras diary of the journey, published as The Motorcycle Diaries.
1. The night before our departure, I came down with a cough and a high temperature and consequently, we were a day late leaving Bahia Blanca. Finally, at three in the afternoon, we left under a blazing sun and by the time we reached the sand dunes around Medanos, it had become even hotter. The bike, wih its badly-distibuted weight, kept bounding out of control, the wheeles constantly spinning over. Alberto fought a painful battle with the sand and insists he won. The only certainly is that we found ourselves resting comfortably in the sand six times before we finally made it out in the flat. We did, nevertheless, get out, and this is my companero main argument for claiming victory over Medanos. From here I took over the controls, accelerating to make up for precious lost time. A fine sand covered part of a bend and – boom: the worst crash of the whole trip. Alberto emerged unscathed but my foot was trapped and scorched by the cylinder, leaving a disagreeable souvenir which lasted a long time because the wound would not heal. A heavy downpour forced us to seek shelter at a ranch but to reach it we had to get 300 metres up a muddy track, and we went flying another two times. Their welcome was magnificent but the sum total of our first experience on unsealed roads was alarming: nine crashes in a single day. On camp beds, the only beds we would know from now on, and lying beside our bike, La Poderosa, our snail-like dwelling, we still looked into the future with impatient joy.
2. Scarely a few metres separated us from the Civil Guard post marking the limits of the town, but already our backpacks felt a hundred times heavier than they were. We decided to make our first stop and test our luck with the passing trucks.All we could see in the direction of the road was a barren hillside, with a barely any vegetation; placid Tacna, with its little dirt steets and terracotta roofs, waited so far in the distance it seemed almost daunting. The first truck to pass caused us great turmoil; we stuck out our thumbs apprehensively and to our surprise the driver stopped just ahead of us. Alberto took command of the operation, explaining the purpose of our journey asking him for lift; the driver gave an affirmative nod, indicating we could climb in the back, with a whole band of Indians. Collecting our bags and crazy with gratitude, we were about to climb up when he called out to us : „Five soles to Tarata, you know that, right“? Alberto furiously asked why he would said nothing earlier, when we would asked to be taken free of charge. The driver was not sure exactly what „ free of charge“ meant, but to Tarata it was five soles....“ And everyone of them will like that“, Alberto said angrily, directing all his frustration toward me, who had suggested the idea of walking out of town to hitch a lift, rather than wait there like he wanted to do. The moment became decisive We could go back, in which case we would be admitted defeat, or we could continue on foot, letting whatever would happen, happen. We decided on the second course and started walking.
3. Two or three mosquitoes alone could not beat my desire to sleep and within a few minutes it had defeated them. My triumph was empty, however, as Alberto woke me to help hom. What followed was the hugely arduous task of moving the raft towards the lights of a town on the opposite bank. We rowed at full strength, and just when it seemed we were definitely on our way, we would turn a half circle and head back into midstream. We watched with growing desperation as the lights drifted into the distance. Exhausted, we decided that at least we could win the fight against the mosquitoes and sleep peacefully until dawn.... I clung to the thought that no matter how bad things became, there was no reason to suppose we could not handle it.
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Ako ti je stvarno hitno, najbolje plati nekom da ti to uradi. 
