Technology in the Criminal Justice System Essay Example for Free

Technology in the Criminal Justice System Essay Technological advances hold great potential to remediate some of the current weaknesses in the criminal justice system, particularly in the realm of criminal identification, which stands to increase its empirical consistency. This is not to suggest that technology makes criminalization infallible – all tools require that they be applied with a judicious understanding of their strengths and limitations – but rather curtail some of the shortcomings from what is ultimately a field whose foundation rests upon soft science. As The Innocence Project, a national litigation and policy organization devoted to the improvement of the American criminal justice system, notes, wrongful convictions often result from a misunderstanding of the limitations of science. As Alex Steffen (2004) notes, police methodology is fraught with judgment and subjectivity; these two attributes do not necessarily invalidate the entire protocol, but they are frequently left unchecked by careful scrutiny. For example, without proper video or audio documentation of interrogation procedures, it is impossible to review, identify and flag confessions whose results are invalidly obtained through baiting promises, coercive pressure and leading questions. Furthermore, police informants are not measured according to their reputation for providing useful or accurate information. In effect, there is a complete lack of ‘soft science’ consistency in the investigative process. One of the technologies currently under scrutiny is DNA profiling and analysis. Like biometric analysis and surveillance technology, DNA profiling and analysis holds great value in the identification of criminals. It is currently used within the context of law enforcement in order to identify the individual from which genetic material found on a crime scene originates. The results are used to determine, based on the qualities of the genetic matter obtained, whether individuals may be considered suspect. Although DNA sequences among individuals are highly matching, the process of DNA profiling relies on variances which occur on the level of their alleles (National Institute of Justice, 2009). But despite this level of precision, some wrongful convictions occur in spite of DNA profiling and analysis, due mostly in part to a number of confounding variables. Intra-agency databases are crucial to the efficacy of DNA profiling and analysis. In the United States, the COmbined DNA Index System or CODIS, with 5 million records as of 2007, fulfills this role. The CODIS is an electronic database of DNA profiles, quite similar to that of the AFIS or Automated Fingerprint Identification System. It holds the aggregated data of DNA profiles obtained by individual states from those convicted. (FBI, 2009) In effect, it gives law enforcement officers quick access to a nation-wide sample of DNA profiles and assists in identifying possible suspects. However, reliance upon the CODIS and other such DNA databases can be problematic because of their dependence on past convictions. Furthermore, an imperfect application of DNA testing can have disastrous results. In the case of Herman Atkins, who was convicted of robbery, oral and genital rape, was linked to the crime on the basis of the fact that he fit the same genetic demographic of the perpetrator. Even though it could not be proven that Atkins was inarguably the rapist, he was convicted. The prosecution admitted this as much by noting that the evidence â€Å"excludes a large percentage of the people, and does not exclude him, and thats corroboration. While hair samples and semen stains are valuable evidence, it is not without thorough and comprehensive testing that they can be held as inarguable evidence of guilt, as the innocent may sometimes overlap with the perpetrator in these factors. It must be clear that concern should not center solely on wrongful convictions but the shortcomings of techniques. While one should not blithely subscribe to an uncritical confidence in the justice system, it is also not productive to rail against injustices post hoc. Instead, what is needed is broader public education of what DNA profiling and analysis tells us. However, at the very least, DNA profiling and analysis is a step in the right direction in advancing the reliability and validity of criminology: It is most certainly not an infallible solution to the fuzzy qualities which dominate it, but it gives a human face to the statistical probability of error that has always existed within it. REFERENCES Innocence Project: http://www. innocenceproject. org/index. php. Accessed March 5, 2009. Steffen, A. (2004, May 15). â€Å"The Innocence Project. † Worldchanging. Retrieved March 4, 2009 from: http://www. worldchanging. com/archives//000715. html National Institute of Justice. â€Å"What Every Law Enforcement Officer Should Know About DNA Evidence. † Retrieved March 6, 2009 from: http://www. ncjrs. gov/pdffiles1/nij/bc000614. pdf Federal Bureau of Investigation. â€Å"CODIS – National DNA Index System. † Retrieved March 4, 2009 from: http://www. fbi. gov/hq/lab/codis/national. htm

William Faulkners A Rose for Emily and Barn Burning Essay -- essays r

Symbolism in William Faulkner's A Rose for Emily and Barn Burning If we compare William Faulkner's two short stories, 'A Rose for Emily' and 'Barn Burning', he structures the plots of these two stories differently. However, both of the stories note the effect of a father ¡Ã‚ ¦s teaching, and in both the protagonists Miss Emily and Sarty make their own decisions about their lives. The stories present major idea through symbolism that includes strong metaphorical meaning. Both stories affect my thinking of life. Both  ¡Ã‚ §A Rose for Emily ¡Ã‚ ¨ and  ¡Ã‚ §Barn Burning ¡Ã‚ ¨ address the influence of a father, and the protagonists of both stories make their own decisions. Miss Emily lives with her father who prevents her from dating with any young man until she is thirty. Her father ¡Ã‚ ¦s deed enhances her thirst for love and security. After her father died, she finally has the freedom of love. When she meets Homer Barron and thinks that she has found her true love. But opposite of what she wants, Homer is a homosexual:  ¡Ã‚ §Ã‚ ¡Khe liked men, and it was known that he drank with the younger men in the Elks ¡Ã‚ ¦ Club --- that he was not a marrying man ¡Ã‚ ¨ ( ¡Ã‚ §A Rose for Emily ¡Ã‚ ¨, 126). To keep him with her forever, Miss Emily chooses to murder Homer.  ¡Ã‚ §Then we noticed that in the second pillow was the indentation of a head. One of us lifted something from it, and learning forward, we saw a long strand of iron-gray hair ¡Ã‚ ¨ ( ¡Ã‚ §A Rose for Emily ¡Ã‚ ¨, 130), Faulkner implies that Miss Emily actually sleeps with the corpse. She must love Homer deeply, to endure the rotten smell and appearance of the dead body. She even enjoys being with it.  ¡Ã‚ §The body had apparently once lain in the attitude of an embrace ¡Ã‚ ¨ ( ¡Ã‚ §A Rose for Emily ¡Ã‚ ¨, 130). Although she picks the most ridiculous way to express love, her courage to choose her own way of life compels admiration. In  ¡Ã‚ §Barn Burning ¡Ã‚ ¨, Sarty ¡Ã‚ ¦s father enjoys setting fires to burn down others ¡Ã‚ ¦ properties. Sarty faces the problem between loyalty and honesty. On one hand, he wants to be loyal to his father; on the other hand, he does not endorse his father ¡Ã‚ ¦s behavior. His father teaches him:  ¡Ã‚ §You ¡Ã‚ ¦re getting to be a man. You got to learn. You got to learn to stick to your own blood or you ain ¡Ã‚ ¦t going to have any blood to stick to you ¡Ã‚ ¨ ( ¡Ã‚ §Barn Burning ¡Ã‚ ¨, 8). His father wa... ... sets fire to burn down the barn that belongs to the house, he thoroughly despairs of his father. He not only destroys the barn, but also shatters Sarty ¡Ã‚ ¦s hope. Sarty decides to leave his family and find his own way of life. The metaphorical meanings of  ¡Ã‚ §A Rose for Emily ¡Ã‚ ¨ and  ¡Ã‚ §Barn Burning ¡Ã‚ ¨ teaches me to view life in a different way. I do not agree with Miss Emily ¡Ã‚ ¦s deed, but admire her inflexible love. She reminds me to be careful when choose a beloved. It is important to find someone who suits me. The other protagonist, Sarty shows strong self-awareness. He is young, but he is able to determine right and wrong. He knows that if he continuing stay with his father, he will not be able to live his own life, or do right things. It is pretty courageous that he decide to leave his family. When I make a decision, I should have the same courage. Both stories ¡Ã‚ ¦ plots themselves are odd, but the meanings stimulate deep thought. Works Cited Faulkner, William.  ¡Ã‚ §Barn Burning. ¡Ã‚ ¨ Collected Stories of William Faulkner. New York:   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Random House, 1939. 3-25. Faulkner, William.  ¡Ã‚ §A Rose for Emily. ¡Ã‚ ¨ Collected Stories of William Faulkner. New   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  York: Random House, 1939. 119-30.

The Host Chapter 33: Doubted

Another splash. Kyle's weight tortured my arms. â€Å"Wanda? Wanda!† â€Å"Help me! Kyle! The floor! Help!† I had my face pressed against the stone, my eyes toward the cave entrance. The light was bright overhead as the day dawned. I held my breath. My arms screamed. â€Å"Wanda! Where are you?† Ian leaped through the door, the rifle in his hands, held low and ready. His face was the angry mask his brother had worn. â€Å"Watch out!† I screamed at him. â€Å"The floor is breaking up! I can't hold him much longer!† It took him two long seconds to process the scene that was so different from the one he'd been expecting-Kyle, trying to kill me. The scene that had been, just seconds ago. Then he threw the gun to the cave floor and started toward me with a long stride. â€Å"Get down-disperse your weight!† He dropped to all fours and scuttled to me, his eyes burning in the light of dawn. â€Å"Don't let go,† he cautioned. I groaned in pain. He assessed for another second, and then slid his body behind mine, pushing me closer to the rock. His arms were longer than mine. Even with me in the way, he was able to get his hands around his brother. â€Å"One, two, three,† he grunted. He pulled Kyle up against the rock, much more securely than I'd had him. The movement smashed my face into the pillar. The bad side, though-it couldn't get much more scarred at this point. â€Å"I'm going to pull him to this side. Can you squeeze out?† â€Å"I'll try.† I loosened my hold on Kyle, feeling my shoulders ache in relief, making sure Ian had him. Then I wriggled out from between Ian and the rock, careful not to put myself on a dangerous section of the floor. I crawled backward a few feet toward the door, ready to make a grab for Ian if he started slipping. Ian hauled his inert brother around one side of the pillar, dragging him in jerks, a foot at a time. More of the floor crumbled, but the foundation of the pillar remained intact. A new shelf formed about two feet out from the column of rock. Ian crawled backward the way I had, dragging his brother along in short surges of muscle and will. Within a minute, we were all three in the mouth of the corridor, Ian and I breathing in gasps. â€Å"What†¦ the hell†¦ happened?† â€Å"Our weight†¦ was too†¦ much. Floor caved in.† â€Å"What were you doing†¦ by the edge? With Kyle?† I put my head down and concentrated on breathing. Well, tell him. What will happen then? You know what will happen. Kyle broke the rules. Jeb will shoot him, or they'll kick him out. Maybe Ian will beat the snot out of him first. That would be fun to watch. Melanie didn't really mean it-I didn't think so, anyway. She was just still mad at me for risking our lives to save our would-be murderer. Exactly, I told her. And if they kick Kyle out for me†¦ or kill him†¦ I shuddered. Well, can't you see how little sense that would make? He's one of you. We've got a life here, Wanda. You're jeopardizing that. It's my life, too. And I'm†¦ well, I'm me. Melanie groaned in disgust. â€Å"Wanda?† Ian demanded. â€Å"Nothing,† I muttered. â€Å"You're a rotten liar. You know that, right?† I kept my head down and breathed. â€Å"What did he do?† â€Å"Nothing,† I lied. Poorly. Ian put his hand under my chin, pulled my face up. â€Å"Your nose is bleeding.† He twisted my head to the side. â€Å"And there's more blood in your hair.† â€Å"I-hit my head when the floor fell.† â€Å"On both sides?† I shrugged. Ian glared at me for a long moment. The darkness of the tunnel muted the brilliance of his eyes. â€Å"We should get Kyle to Doc-he really cracked his head when he went down.† â€Å"Why are you protecting him? He tried to kill you.† It was a statement of fact, not a question. His expression slowly melted from anger to horror. He was imagining what we had been doing on that unstable shelf-I could see that in his eyes. When I did not answer, he spoke again in a whisper. â€Å"He was going to throw you in the river†¦Ã¢â‚¬  A strange tremor shook his body. Ian had one arm around Kyle-he'd collapsed that way and seemed too tired to move. Now he shoved his unconscious brother away roughly, sliding farther from him in disgust. He slid into me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. He pulled me close against his chest-I could feel his breath go in and out, still more ragged than normal. It felt very strange. â€Å"I should roll him right back in there and kick him over the edge myself.† I shook my head frantically, making it throb in pain. â€Å"No.† â€Å"Saves time. Jeb made the rules clear. You try to hurt someone here, there are penalties. There'll be a tribunal.† I tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip. It wasn't frightening, not like the way Kyle had grabbed me. But it was upsetting-it threw me off balance. â€Å"No. You can't do that, because no one broke the rules. The floor collapsed, that's all.† â€Å"Wanda -â€Å" â€Å"He's your brother.† â€Å"He knew what he was doing. He's my brother, yes, but he did what he did, and you are†¦ you are†¦ my friend.† â€Å"He did nothing. He is human,† I whispered. â€Å"This is his place, not mine.† â€Å"We're not having this discussion again. Your definition of human is not the same as mine. To you, it means something†¦ negative. To me, it's a compliment-and by my definition, you are and he isn't. Not after this.† â€Å"Human isn't a negative to me. I know you now. But Ian, he's your brother.† â€Å"A fact that shames me.† I pushed away from him again. This time, he let me go. It might have had something to do with the moan of pain that escaped my lips when I moved my leg. â€Å"Are you okay?† â€Å"I think so. We need to find Doc, but I don't know if I can walk. I-I hit my leg, when I fell.† A growl strangled in his throat. â€Å"Which leg? Let me see.† I tried to straighten out my hurt leg-it was the right one-and groaned again. His hands started at my ankle, testing the bones, the joints. He rotated my ankle carefully. â€Å"Higher. Here.† I pulled his hand to the back of my thigh, just above the knee. I moaned again when he pressed the sore place. â€Å"It's not broken or anything, I don't think. Just really sore.† â€Å"Deep muscle bruise, at least,† he muttered. â€Å"And how did this happen?† â€Å"Must have†¦ landed on a rock when I fell.† He sighed. â€Å"Okay, let's get you to Doc.† â€Å"Kyle needs him more than I do.† â€Å"I have to go find Doc anyway-or some help. I can't carry Kyle that far, but I can certainly carry you. Oops-hold on.† He turned abruptly and ducked back into the river room. I decided I wouldn't argue with him. I wanted to see Walter before†¦ Doc had promised to wait for me. Would that first dose of painkiller wear off soon? My head swam. There was so much to worry about, and I was so tired. The adrenaline had drained, leaving me empty. Ian came back with the gun. I frowned because this reminded me that I'd wished for it before. I didn't like that. â€Å"Let's go.† Without thinking, he handed the gun to me. I let it fall into my open palms, but I couldn't curl my hands around it. I decided it was a suitable punishment, to have to carry the thing. Ian chuckled. â€Å"How anyone could be afraid of you†¦Ã¢â‚¬  he mumbled to himself. He picked me up easily and was moving before I was settled. I tried to keep the tenderest parts-the back of my head, the back of my leg-from resting on him too hard. â€Å"How'd your clothes get so wet?† he asked. We were passing under one of the fist-sized skylights, and I could see the hint of a grim smile on his pale lips. â€Å"I don't know,† I muttered. â€Å"Steam?† We passed into darkness again. â€Å"You're missing a shoe.† â€Å"Oh.† We passed through another beam of light, and his eyes flashed sapphire. They were serious now, locked on my face. â€Å"I'm†¦ very glad that you weren't hurt, Wanda. Hurt worse, I should say.† I didn't answer. I was afraid of giving him something to use against Kyle. Jeb found us just before we hit the big cave. There was enough light for me to see the sharp glint of curiosity in his eyes when he saw me in Ian's arms, face bleeding, the gun resting gingerly on my open hands. â€Å"You were right, then,† Jeb guessed. The curiosity was strong, but the steel in his tone was stronger. His jaw was tight beneath the fan of his beard. â€Å"I didn't hear a shot. Kyle?† â€Å"He's unconscious,† I said in a rush. â€Å"You need to warn everyone-part of the floor collapsed in the river room. I don't know how stable it is now. Kyle hit his head really hard trying to get out of the way. He needs Doc.† Jeb raised one eyebrow so high it almost touched the faded bandanna at his hairline. â€Å"That's the story,† Ian said, making no effort to conceal his doubt. â€Å"And she's apparently sticking to it.† Jeb laughed. â€Å"Let me take that off your hands,† he said to me. I let him have the gun willingly. He laughed again at my expression. â€Å"I'll get Andy and Brandt to help me with Kyle. We'll follow behind you.† â€Å"Keep a close eye on him when he wakes up,† Ian said in a hard tone. â€Å"Can do.† Jeb slouched off, looking for more hands. Ian hurried me toward the hospital cave. â€Å"Kyle could be really hurt†¦ Jeb should hurry.† â€Å"Kyle's head is harder than any rock in this place.† The long tunnel felt longer than usual. Was Kyle dying, despite my efforts? Was he conscious again and looking for me? What about Walter? Was he sleeping†¦ or gone? Had the Seeker given up her hunt, or would she be back now that it was light again? Will Jared still be with Doc? Mel added her questions to mine. Will he be angry when he sees you? Will he know me? When we reached the sunlit southern cave, Jared and Doc didn't look like they'd moved much. They leaned, side by side, against Doc's makeshift desk. It was quiet as we approached. They weren't talking, just watching Walter sleep. They started up with wide eyes as Ian carried me into the light and laid me on the cot next to Walter's. He straightened my right leg carefully. Walter was snoring. That sound eased some of my tension. â€Å"What now?† Doc demanded angrily. He was bending over me as soon as the words were out, wiping at the blood on my cheek. Jared's face was frozen in surprise. He was being careful, not letting the expression give way to anything else. â€Å"Kyle,† Ian answered at the same time that I said, â€Å"The floor -â€Å" Doc looked back and forth between us, confused. Ian sighed and rolled his eyes. Absently, he laid one hand lightly on my forehead. â€Å"The floor crumbled by the first river hole. Kyle fell back and cracked his head on a rock. Wanda saved his worthless life. She says she fell, too, when the floor gave.† Ian gave Doc a meaningful look. â€Å"Something,† he said the word sarcastically, â€Å"bashed the back of her head pretty good.† He started listing. â€Å"Her nose is bleeding but not broken, I don't think. She's got some damage to the muscle here.† He touched my sore thigh. â€Å"Knees sliced up pretty good, got her face again, but I think maybe I did that, trying to pull Kyle out of the hole. Shouldn't have bothered.† Ian muttered the last part. â€Å"Anything else?† Doc asked. At that moment, his fingers, probing along my side, reached the place where Kyle had punched me. I gasped. Doc tugged my shirt up, and I heard both Ian and Jared hiss at what they saw. â€Å"Let me guess,† Ian said in a voice like ice. â€Å"You fell on a rock.† â€Å"Good guess,† I agreed, breathless. Doc was still touching my side, and I was trying to hold back whimpers. â€Å"Might have broken a rib, not sure,† Doc murmured. â€Å"I wish I could give you something for the pain -â€Å" â€Å"Don't worry about that, Doc,† I panted. â€Å"I'm okay. How's Walter? Did he wake up at all?† â€Å"No, it will take some time to sleep that dose off,† Doc said. He took my hand and started bending my wrist, my elbow. â€Å"I'm okay.† His kind eyes were soft as he met my gaze. â€Å"You will be. You'll just have to rest for a while. I'll keep an eye on you. Here, turn your head.† I did as he asked, and then winced while he examined my wound. â€Å"Not here,† Ian muttered. I couldn't see Doc, but Jared threw Ian a sharp look. â€Å"They're bringing Kyle. I'm not having them in the same room.† Doc nodded. â€Å"Probably wise.† â€Å"I'll get a place ready for her. I'll need you to keep Kyle here until†¦ until we decide what to do with him.† I started to speak, but Ian put his fingers on my lips. â€Å"All right,† Doc agreed. â€Å"I'll tie him down, if you want.† â€Å"If we have to. Is it okay to move her?† Ian glanced toward the tunnel, his face anxious. Doc hesitated. â€Å"No,† I whispered, Ian's fingers still touching my mouth. â€Å"Walter. I want to be here for Walter.† â€Å"You've saved all the lives you can save today, Wanda,† Ian said, his voice gentle and sad. â€Å"I want to say†¦ to say good-goodbye.† Ian nodded. Then he looked at Jared. â€Å"Can I trust you?† Jared's face flushed with anger. Ian held up his hand. â€Å"I don't want to leave her here unprotected while I find her a safe place,† Ian said. â€Å"I don't know if Kyle will be conscious when he arrives. If Jeb shoots him, it will upset her. But you and Doc should be able to handle him. I don't want Doc to be on his own, and force Jeb's hand.† Jared spoke through clenched teeth. â€Å"Doc won't be on his own.† Ian hesitated. â€Å"She's been through hell in the past couple of days. Remember that.† Jared nodded once, teeth still clamped together. â€Å"I'll be here,† Doc reminded Ian. Ian met his gaze. â€Å"Okay.† He leaned over me, and his luminous eyes held mine. â€Å"I'll be back soon. Don't be afraid.† â€Å"I'm not.† He ducked in and touched his lips to my forehead. No one was more surprised than I, though I heard Jared gasp quietly. My mouth hung open as Ian wheeled and nearly sprinted from the room. I heard Doc pull a breath in through his teeth, like a backward whistle. â€Å"Well,† he said. They both stared at me for a long moment. I was so tired and sore, I barely cared what they were thinking. â€Å"Doc -† Jared started to say something in an urgent tone, but a clamor from the tunnel interrupted him. Five men struggled through the opening. Jeb, in front, had Kyle's left leg in his arms. Wes had the right leg, and behind them, Andy and Aaron worked to support his torso. Kyle's head lolled back over Andy's shoulder. â€Å"Stars, but he's heavy,† Jeb grunted. Jared and Doc sprang forward to help. After a few minutes of cursing and groaning, Kyle was lying on a cot a few feet away from mine. â€Å"How long has he been out, Wanda?† Doc asked me. He pulled Kyle's eyelids back, letting the sunlight shine into his pupils. â€Å"Um†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I thought quickly. â€Å"As long as I've been here, the ten minutes or so it took Ian to carry me here, and then maybe five more minutes before that?† â€Å"At least twenty minutes, would you say?† â€Å"Yes. Close to that.† While we were consulting, Jeb had made his own diagnosis. No one paid any attention as he came to stand at the head of Kyle's cot. No one paid any attention-until he turned an open bottle of water over Kyle's face. â€Å"Jeb,† Doc complained, knocking his hand away. But Kyle sputtered and blinked, and then moaned. â€Å"What happened? Where did it go?† He started to shift his weight, trying to look around. â€Å"The floor†¦ is moving†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Kyle's voice had my fingers clenching the sides of my cot and panic washing through me. My leg ached. Could I limp away? Slowly, perhaps†¦ â€Å"‘S okay,† someone murmured. Not someone. I would always know that voice. Jared moved to stand between my cot and Kyle's, his back to me, his eyes on the big man. Kyle rolled his head back and forth, groaning. â€Å"You're safe,† Jared said in a low voice. He didn't look at me. â€Å"Don't be afraid.† I took a deep breath. Melanie wanted to touch him. His hand was close to mine, resting on the edge of my cot. Please, no, I told her. My face hurts quite enough as it is! He won't hit you. You think. I'm not willing to risk it. Melanie sighed; she yearned to move toward him. It wouldn't have been so hard to bear if I weren't yearning also. Give him time, I pleaded. Let him get used to us. Wait till he really believes. She sighed again. â€Å"Aw, hell!† Kyle grumbled. My gaze flickered toward him at the sound of his voice. I could just see his bright eyes around Jared's elbow, focused on me. â€Å"It didn't fall!† he complained.

Demonym Definition and Examples in English

A demonym is a  name for the people who live in a particular place, such as Londoners, Dallasites, Manilans, Dubliners, Torontonians, and Melburnians. Also known as a  gentilic or nationality word. The term demonym —  from the Greek for people and name — was coined (or at least popularized) by lexicographer Paul Dickson. The word was created, Dickson says, to fill a void in the language for those common terms which define a person geographically — for example, Angeleno for a person from Los Angeles (Family Words, 2007). Examples and Observations Often the name of a peoples language is the same as the demonym. Some places, particularly smaller cities and towns, may not have an established demonym for their residents.(Denoting: Webster’s Quotations, Facts, and Phrases. Icon Group, 2008)Barabooians, Fergusites, and HaligoniansA Barabooian is a person who resides in Baraboo, Wisconsin. Someone who lives in Fergus Falls, Minnesota is a Fergusite. A Dane lives in Denmark, and a Florentine hails from Florence, Italy. An indispensable book for the study of demonyms is Paul Dicksons Labels for Locals: What to Call People From Abilene to Zimbabwe (1997). There are some rather complex rules for creating demonyms, but Dickson stated that people in a place tend to decide what they will call themselves, whether they be Angelenos (from Los Angeles) or Haligonians (from Halifax, Nova Scotia) (p. x).(Dale D. Johnson et al., Logology: Word and Language Play. Vocabulary Instruction: Research to Practice, eds. J. F. Baumann and E. J. Kam eenui. Guilford Press, 2003)Hoosiers, Tar Heels, and WashingtoniansOver time I have learned that people are concerned about what others call them. Call a person from Indiana an Indianan or Indianian and you will be told in no uncertain terms that the proper form of address is Hoosier. North Carolinian is acceptable but not to those who prefer to be called Tar Heels, and when it comes to Utah the folks there prefer Utahn over Utaan or Utahan. Phoenicians lived and live in antiquity — and Arizona — while Colombians are from South America, not the District of Columbia, where Washingtonians reside. These Washingtonians are not be mistaken for those Washingtonians who live around Puget Sound.(Paul Dickson, Labels for Locals: What to Call People From Abilene to Zimbabwe. Collins, 2006)Mancunians, Hartlepudlians, and Varsovians[W]hen I happened to be writing about lacrosse in Manchester, England, I worked in the word Mancunian three times in one short paragraph. It was the se cond-best demonym Id ever heard, almost matching Vallisoletano (a citizen of Valladolid). The planet, of course, is covered with demonyms, and after scouring the world in conversations on this topic with Mary Norris I began a severely selective, highly subjective A-list, extending Mancunian and Vallisoletano through thirty-five others at this writing, including Wulfrunian (Wolverhampton), Novocastrian (Newcastle), Trifluvian (Trois-Rivià ¨res), Leodensian (Leeds), Minneapolitan (Minneapolis), Hartlepudlian (Hartlepool), Liverpudlian (you knew it), Haligonian (Halifax), Varsovian (Warsaw), Providentian (Providence), and Tridentine (Trent).(John McPhee, Draft No. 4. The New Yorker, April 29, 2013)BaltimoreansThe Baltimoreans are a peculiar people. They love their city with a pious affection, and wherever they roam in search of health, wealth, or pleasure they always turn to Baltimore as to the Mecca of their heart. Yet, whenever three or four Baltimoreans are together, at home or abr oad, they abuse Baltimore without stint.(The No Name Magazine, 1890)The Lighter Side of Demonyms[T]he point is that the great majority of Baltimorons saw nothing strange about the proceeding of the cops, and showed absolutely no indignation over it.(H.L. Mencken, The Style of Woodrow. Smart Set, June 1922)If we gave the name Poles to people who live in Poland, why werent the inhabitants of Holland called Holes?(Denis Norden, Words Flail Me. Logophile, Vol. 3, No. 4, 1979) Pronunciation: DEM-uh-nim