武汉事未了，香港"医护人员"的可耻一幕曝光！

2020年2月3日，将成为以“专业”著称的香港医护史上的耻辱一天。

克莱因瓶是一个不可定向的二维紧流形，而球面或轮胎面是可 克莱因瓶 克莱因瓶 定向的二维紧流形。如果观察克莱因瓶，有一点似乎令人困惑－－克莱因瓶的瓶颈和瓶身是相交的，换句话说，瓶去探索宇宙的秘密，从而推进了天文学和地理学的发展。1492年，意大利著名的航海家哥伦布发现新大陆，麦哲伦和他的同伴绕地球一周，证明地the girl in the mirror winked with both eyes It was only a quarter past seven. There was no need to hurry home. Sophie's mother always took it easy on Sundays, so she would probably sleep for another two hours. Should she go a bit farther into the woods and try to find Alberto Knox? And why had the dog snarled at her so viciously? Sophie got up and began to walk down the path Hermes had taken. She had the brown envelope with the pages on Plato in her hand. Wherever the path diverged she took the wider one. Birds were chirping everywhere--in the trees and in the air, in bush and thicket. They were busily occupied with their morning pursuits. They knew no difference between weekdays and Sundays. Who had taught them to do all that? Was there a tiny computer inside each one of them, programming them to do certain things? The path led up over a little hill, then steeply down between tall pine trees. The woods were so dense now that she could only see a few yards between the trees. Suddenly she caught sight of something glittering between the pine trunks. It must be a little lake. The path went the other way but Sophie picked her way among the trees. Without really knowing why, she let her feet lead her. The lake was no bigger than a soccer field. Over on the other side she could see a red-painted cabin in a small clearing surrounded by silver birches. A faint wisp of smoke was rising from the chimney. Sophie went down to the water's edge. It was very muddy in many places, but then she noticed a rowboat. It was drawn halfway out of the water. There was a pair of oars in it. Sophie looked around. Whatever she did, it would be impossible to get around the lake to the red cabin without getting her shoes soaked. She went resolutely over to the boat and pushed it into the water. Then she climbed aboard, set the oars in the rowlocks, and rowed across the lake. The boat soon touched the opposite bank. Sophie went ashore and tried to pull the boat up after her. The bank was much steeper here than the opposite bank had been. She glanced over her shoulder only once before walking up toward the cabin. She was quite startled at her own boldness. How did she dare do this? She had no idea. It was as if "something" impelled her. Sophie went up to the door and knocked. She waited a while but nobody answered. She tried the handle cautiously, and the door opened. "Hallo!" she called. "Is anyone at home?" She went in and found herself in a living room. She dared not shut the door behind her. Somebody was obviously living here. Sophie could hear wood crackling in the old stove. Someone had been here very recently. On a big dining table stood a typewriter, some books, a couple of pencils, and a pile of paper. A smaller table and two chairs stood by the window that overlooked the lake. Apart from that there was very little furniture, although the whole of one wall was lined with book-shelves filled with books. Above a white chest of drawers hung a large round mirror in a heavy brass frame. It looked very old. On one of the walls hung two pictures. One was an oil painting of a white house which lay a stone's throw from a little bay with a red boathouse. Between the house and the boathouse was a sloping garden with an apple tree, a few thick bushes, and some rocks. A dense fringe of birch trees framed the garden like a garland. The title of the painting was "Bjerkely." Beside that painting hung an old portrait of a man sitting in a chair by a window. He had a book in his lap. This picture also had a little bay with trees and rocks in the background. It looked as though it had been painted several hundred years ago. The title of the picture was "Berkeley." The painter's name was Smibert. Berkeley and Bjerkely. How strange! Sophie continued her investigation. A door led from the living room to a small kitchen. Someone had just done the dishes. Plates and glasses were piled on a tea towel, some of them still glistening with drops of soapy water. There was a tin bowl on the floor with some leftover scraps of food in it. Whoever lived here had a pet, a dog or a cat. Sophie went back to the living room. Another door led to a tiny bedroom. On the floor next to the bed there were a couple of blankets in a thick bundle. Sophie discovered some golden hairs on the blankets. Here was the evidence! Now Sophie knew that the occupants of the cabin were Alberto Knox and Hermes. Back in the living room, Sophie stood in front of the mirror. The glass was matte and scratched, and her reflection correspondingly blurred. Sophie began to make faces at herself like she did at home in the bathroom. Her reflection did exactly the same, which was only to be expected. But all of a sudden something scary happened. Just once--in the space of a split second--Sophie saw quite clearly that the girl in the mirror winked with both eyes. Sophie started back in fright. If she herself had winked--how could she have seen the other girl wink? And not only that, it seemed as though the other girl had winked at Sophie as if to say: I can see you, Sophie. I am in here, on the other side. Sophie felt her heart beating, and at the same time she heard a dog barking in the distance. Hermes! She had to get out of here at once. Then she noticed a green wallet on the chest of drawers under the mirror. It contained a hundred-crown note, a fifty, and a school I.D. card. It showed a picture of a girl with fair hair. Under the picture was the girl's name: Hilde Moller Knag ... Sophie shivered. Again she heard the dog bark. She had to get out, at once! As she hurried past the table she noticed a white envelope between all the books and the pile of paper. It had one word written on it: SOPHIE. Before she had time to realize what she was doing, she grabbed the envelope and stuffed it into the brown envelope with the Plato pages. Then she rushed out of the door and slammed it behind her. The barking was getting closer. But worst of all was that the boat was gone. After a second or two she saw it, adrift halfway across the lake. One of the oars was floating beside it. All because she hadn't been able to pull it completely up on land. She heard the dog barking quite nearby now and saw movements between the trees on the other side of the lake. Sophie didn't hesitate any longer. With the big envelope in her hand, she plunged into the bushes behind the cabin. Soon she was having to wade through marshy ground, sinking in several times to well above her ankles. But she had to keep going. She had to get home. Presently she stumbled onto a path. Was it the path she had taken earlier? She stopped to wring out her dress. And then she began to cry. How could she have been so stupid? The worst of all was the boat. She couldn't forget the sight of the row-boat with the one oar drifting helplessly on the lake. It was all so embarrassing, so shameful. . . The philosophy teacher had probably reached the lake by now. He would need the boat to get home. Sophie felt almost like a criminal. But she hadn't done it on purpose. The envelope! That was probably even worse. Why had she taken it? Because her name was on it, of course, so in a way it was hers. But even so, she felt like a thief. And what's more, she had provided the evidence that it was she who had been there. Sophie drew the note out of the envelope. It said: What came first--the chicken or the "idea" chicken ? Are we born with innate "ideas"? What is the difference between a plant, an animal, and a human? Why does it rain? What does it take to live a good life? Sophie couldn't possibly think about these questions right now, but she assumed they had something to do with the next philosopher. Wasn't he called Aristotle? When she finally saw the hedge after running so far through the woods it was like swimming ashore after a shipwreck. The hedge looked funny from the other side. She didn't look at her watch until she had crawled into the den. It was ten-thirty. She put the big envelope into the biscuit tin with the other papers and stuffed the note with the new questions down her tights. Her mother was on the telephone when she came in. When she saw Sophie she hung up quickly. "Where on earth have you been?" "I... went for a walk ... in the woods," she stammered. "So I see." Sophie stood silently, watching the water dripping from her dress. "I called Joanna..." "Joanna?" Her mother brought her some dry clothes. Sophie only just managed to hide the philosopher's n "What do you do when you're together, Sophie? Why are you so wet?" Sophie sat staring gravely at the table. But deep down inside she was laughing. Poor Mom, now she had that to worry about. She shook her head again. Then more questions came raining down on her. "Now I want the truth. Were you out all night? Why did you go to bed with your clothes on? Did you sneak out as soon as I had gone to bed? You're only fourteen, Sophie. I demand to know who you are seeing!" Sophie started to cry. Then she talked. She was still frightened, and when you are frightened you usually talk. She explained that she had woken up very early and had gone for a walk in the woods. She told her mother about the cabin and the boat, and about the mysterious mirror. But she mentioned nothing about the secret correspondence course. Neither did she mention the green wallet. She didn't quite know why, but she had to keep Hilde for herself. Her mother put her arms around Sophie, and Sophie knew that her mother believed her now. "I don't have a boyfriend," Sophie sniffed. "It was just something I said because you were so upset about the white rabbit." "And you really went all the way to the major's cabin ..." said her mother thoughtfully. "The major's cabin?" Sophie stared at her mother. "The little woodland cabin is called the major's cabin because some years ago an army major lived there for a time. He was rather eccentric, a little crazy, I think. But never mind that. Since then the cabin has been unoccupied." "But it isn't! There's a philosopher living there now." "Oh stop, don't start fantasizing again!" Sophie stayed in her room, thinking about what had happened. Her head felt like a roaring circus full of lumbering elephants, silly clowns, daring trapeze flyers, and trained monkeys. But one image recurred unceasingly-- a small rowboat with one oar drifting in a lake deep in the woods--and someone needing the boat to get home. She felt sure that the philosophy teacher didn't wish her any harm, and would certainly forgive her if he knew she had been to his cabin. But she had broken an agreement. That was all the thanks he got for taking on her philosophic education. How could she make up for it? Sophie took out her pink notepaper and began to write: Dear Philosopher, It was me who was in your cabin early Sunday morning. I wanted so much to meet you and discuss some of the philosophic problems. For the moment I am a Plato fan, but I am not so sure he was right about ideas or pattern pictures existing in another reality. Of course they exist in our souls, but I think--for the moment anyway-- that this is a different thing. I have to admit too that I am not altogether convinced of the immortality of the soul. Personally, I have no recollections from my former lives. If you could convince me that my deceased grandmother's soul is happy in the world of ideas, I would be most grateful. Actually, it was Are we born with innate "ideas"? Most unlikely, thought Sophie. She could hardly imagine a newborn baby being especially well equipped with ideas. One could obviously never be sure, because the fact that the baby had no language did not necessarily mean that it had no ideas in its head. But surely we have to see things in the world before we can know anything about them. And Joanna, of course. And Jeremy, perhaps. But that's for you to decide. I remember my own fifteenth birthday so clearly, you know. It doesn't seem all that long ago. I felt I was already quite grown up. Isn't it odd, Sophie! I don't feel I have changed at all since then." "You haven't. Nothing changes. You have just developed, gotten older..." 球是圆形的，使人们开始真正认识地球。[4] 对他国的影响 在教会严密控制下的中世纪，也发生过轰轰烈烈的宗教革命。因为天主教的很多教义不符合圣经的教诲，而加入了太多教皇的个人意志以及各类神学家的自身成果，所以很多信徒开始质疑天主教的教义和组织，发起回归圣经的行动来。捷克的爱国主义者、布拉格大学校长扬·胡斯（1369～1415年）在君士坦丁堡的宗教会议上公开谴责德意志封建主与天主教会对捷克的压迫和剥削。他虽然被反动教会处以火刑，但他的革命活动在社会上引起了强烈的反应。捷克农民在胡斯党人的旗帜下举行起义，这次运动也波及波兰。1517年，在德国，马丁·路德（1483～1546年）反对教会贩卖赎罪符，与罗马教皇公开决裂。1521年，路德又在沃尔姆国会上揭露罗马教廷的罪恶，并提出建立基督教新教的主张。新教的教义得到许多国家的支持，波兰也深受影响。

在这一天，数千名医护人员开始罢工——香港史上头一遭。

随着确诊人数的快速增长，抗击新型肺炎进入最艰难的攻坚阶段。

家的支持，波兰也深受影响。

几乎所有人都在为一个目标奋斗：彻底打败这该死的病毒。

来自各行各业的人们，都在以不同的方式付出、支持着这场攻坚战。还有那些在病毒肆虐中的逆行者，他们的身影令人动容。

然而香港的这群人，临阵逃脱了。

在病毒面前，他们原本是最不应该出现的逃兵。

1

“我决心竭尽全力除人类之病痛，助健康之完美，维护医术的圣洁和荣誉，救死扶伤，不辞艰辛，执着追求，为祖国医药卫生事业的发展和人类身心健康奋斗终生。”

克莱因瓶是一个不可定向的二维紧流形，而球面或轮胎面是可 克莱因瓶 克莱因瓶 定向的二维紧流形。如果观Sophie Amundsen was on her way home from school. She had walked the first part of the way with Joanna. They had been discussing robots. Joanna thought the hum From time to time there would be a few letters from the bank for her father, but then he was not a normal father. Sophie's father was the captain of a big oil tanker, and was away for most of the year. During the few weeks at a time when he was at home, he would shuffle around the house making it nice and cozy for Sophie and her mother. But when he was at sea he could seem very distant. There was only one letter in the mailbox--and it was for Sophie. The white envelope read: "Sophie Amundsen, 3 Clover Close." That was all; it did not say who it was from. There was no stamp on it either. As soon as Sophie had closed the gate behind her she opened the envelope. It contained only a slip of paper no bigger than the envelope. It read: Who are you? Nothing else, only the three words, written by hand, and followed by a large question mark. She looked at the envelope again. The letter was definitely for her. Who could have dropped it in the mailbox? Sophie let herslly wanted her to be called Lillemor. Sophie tried to imagine herself shaking hands and introducing herself as Lillemor Amundsen, but it seemed all wrong. It was someone else who kept introducing herself. She jumped up and went into the bathroom with the strange letter in her hand. She stood in front of the mirror and stared into her own eyes. "I am Sophie Amundsen," she said. The girl in the mirror did not react with as much as a twitch. Whatever Sophie did, she did exactly the same. Sophie tried to beat her reflection to it with a lightning movement but the other girl was just as fast. "Who are you?" Sophie asked. She received no response to this either, but felt a momentary confusion as to whether it was she or her reflection who had asked the question. Sophie pressed her index finger to the nose in the mirror and said, "You are me." As she got no answer to this, she turned the sentence around and said, "I am you." Sophie Amundsen was often dissatisfied with her appearance. She was frequently told that she had beautiful almond-shaped eyes, but that was probably just something people said because her nose was too small and her mouth was a bit too big. And her ears were much too close to her eyes. Worst of all was her straight hair, which it was impossible to do anything with. Sometimes her father would stroke her hair and call her "the girl with the flaxen hair," after a piece of music by Claude Debussy. It was all right for him, he was not condemned to living with this straight dark hair. Neither mousse nor styling gel had the slightest effect on Sophie's hair. Sometimes she thought she was so ugly that she wondered if she was malformed at birth. Her mother always went on about her difficult labor. But was that really what determined how you looked? Wasn't it odd that she didn't know who she was? And wasn't it unreasonable that she hadn't been allowed to have any say in what she would look like? Her looks had just been dumped on her. She could choose her own friends, but she certainly hadn't chosen herself. She had not even chosen to be a human being. What was a human being? Sophie looked up at the girl in the mirror again. "I think I'll go upstairs and do my biology homework," she said, almost apologetically. Once she was out in the hall, she thought, No, I'd rather go out in the garden. "Kitty, kitty, kitty!" Sophie chased the cat out onto the doorstep and closed the front door behind her. As she stood outside on the gravel path with the mysterious letter in her hand, the strangest feeling came over her. She felt like a doll that had suddenly been brought to life by the wave of a magic wand. Wasn't it extraordinary to be in the world right now, wandering around in a wonderful adventure! Sherekan sprang lightly across the gravel and slid into a dense clump of red-currant bushes. A live cat, vibrant with energy from its white whiskers to the twitching tail at the end of its sleek body. It was here in the garden too, but hardly aware of it in the same way as Sophie. As Sophie started to think about being alive, she began to realize that she would not be alive forever. I am in the world now, she thought, but one day I shall be gone. Was there a life after death? This was another question the cat was blissfully unaware of. It was not long since Sophie's grandmother had died. For more than six months Sophie had missed her every single day. How unfair that life had to end! Sophie stood on the gravel path, thinking. She tried to think extra hard about being alive so as to forget that she would not be alive forever. But it was impossible. As soon as she concentrated on being alive now, the thought of dying also came into her mind. The same thing happened the other way around: only by conjuring up an intense feeling of one day being dead could she appreciate how terribly good it was to be alive. It was like two sides of a coin that she kept turning over and over. And the bigger and clearer one side of the coin became, the bigger and clearer the other side became too. You can't experience being alive without realizing that you have to die, she thought. But it's just as impossible to realize you have to die without thinking how incredibly amazing it is to be alive. Sophie remembered Granny saying something like that the day the doctor told her she was ill. "I never realized how rich life was until now," she said. How tragic that most people had to get ill before they understood what a gift it was to be alive. Or else they had to find a mysterious letter in the mailbox! Perhaps she should go and see if any more letters had arrived. Sophie hurried to the gate and looked inside the green mailbox. She was startled to find that it contained another white envelope, exactly like the first. But the mailbox had definitely been empty when she took the first envelope! This envelope had her name on it as well. She tore it open and fished out a note the same size as the first one. Where does the world come from? it said. I don't know, Sophie thought. Surely nobody really knows. And yet--Sophie thought it was a fair question. For the first time in her life she felt it wasn't right to live in the world without at least inquiring where it came from. The mysterious letters had made Sophie's head spin. She decided to go and sit in the den. The den was Sophie's top secret hiding place. It was where she went when she was terribly angry, terribly miserable, or terribly happy. Today she was simply confused. * * * The red house was surrounded by a large garden with lots of flowerbeds, fruit bushes, fruit trees of different kinds, a spacious lawn with a glider and a little gazebo that Granddad had built for Granny when she lost their first child a few weeks after it was born. The child's name was Marie. On her gravestone were the words: "Little Marie to us came, greeted us, and left again." Down in a corner of the garden behind all the raspberry bushes was a dense thicket where neither flowers nor berries would grow. Actually, it was an old hedge that had once marked the boundary to the woods, but because nobody had trimmed it for the last twenty years it had grown into a tangled and impenetrable mass. Granny used to say the hedge made it harder for the foxes to take the chickens during the war, when the chickens had free range of the garden. To everyone but Sophie, the old hedge was just as useless as the rabbit hutches at the other end of the garden. But that was only because they hadn't discovered Sophie's secret. Sophie had known about the little hole in the hedge for as long as she could remember. When she crawled through it she came into a large cavity between the bushes. It was like a little house. She knew nobody would find her there. Clutching the two envelopes in her hand, Sophie ran through the garden, crouched down on all fours, and wormed her way through the hedge. The den was almost high enough for her to stand upright, but today she sat down on a clump of gnarled roots. From there she could look out through tiny peepholes between the twigs and leaves. Although none of the holes was bigger than a small coin, she had a good view beginning. Oh, drat! She opened the two envelopes again. Who are you? Where does the world come from? What annoying questions! And anyway where did the letters come from? That was just as mysterious, almost. Who had jolted Sophie out of her everyday existence and suddenly brought her face to face with the great riddles of the universe? For the third time Sophie went to the mailbox. The mailman had just delivered the day's mail. Sophie fished out a bulky pile of junk mail, periodicals, and a couple of letters for her mother. There was also a postcard of a tropical beach. She turned the card over. It had a Nor-wegian stamp on it and was postmarked "UN Battalion." Could it be from Dad? But wasn't he in a completely different place? It wasn't his handwriting either. Sophie felt her pulse quicken a little as she saw who the postcard was addressed to: "Hilde Moller Knag, c/o Sophie Amundsen, 3 Clover Close ..." The rest of the address was correct. The card read: Dear Hilde, Happy 15th birthday! As I'm sure you'll understand, I want to give you a present that will help you grow. Forgive me for sending the card c/o Sophie. It was the easiest way. Love from Dad. Sophie raced back to the house and into the kitchen. Her mind was in a turmoil. Who was this "Hilde," whose fifteenth birthday was just a month before her own? Sophie got out the telephone book. There were a lot of people called Moller, and quite a few called Knag. But there was nobody in the entire directory called Moller Knag. She examined the mysterious card again. It certainly seemed genuine enough; it had a stamp and a postmark. Why would a father send a birthday card to Sophie's address when it was quite obviously intended to go somewhere else? What kind of father would cheat his own daughter of a birthday card by purposely sending it astray? How could it be "the easiest way"? And above all, how was she supposed to trace this Hilde person? So now Sophie had another problem to worry about. She tried to get her thoughts in order: This afternoon, in the space of two short hours, she had been presented with three problems. The first problem was who had put the two white envelopes in her mailbox. The second was the difficult questions these letters contained. The third problem was who Hilde Moller Knag could be, and why Sophie had been sent her birthday card. She was sure that the three problems were interconnected in some way. They had to be, because until today she had lived a perfectly ordinary life.察克莱因瓶，有一点似乎令人困惑－－克莱因瓶的瓶颈和瓶身是相交的，换句话说，瓶颈上的某些点和瓶壁上的某些点占据了三维空间中的同一个位置。我们可以把克莱因瓶放在四维空间中理解：克莱因瓶是一个在四维空间中才可能真正表现出来的曲面。如果我们一定要把它表现在我们生活的三维空间中，我们只好将就点，把它表现得似乎是自己和自己相交一样。克莱因瓶的瓶颈是广泛地应用到了建筑，艺术，工业生产中。三维空间里的克莱因瓶 拓扑学的定义编辑 克莱因瓶定义为正方形区域 [0,1]×[0,1] 模掉等价关系(0,y)~(1,y), 0≤y≤1 和 (x,0)~(1-x,1), 0≤x≤1。类似于 Mobius Band, 克莱因瓶不可定向。但 Mobius 带可嵌入   ，而克莱因瓶只能嵌入四维（或更高维）空间。莫比乌斯带编辑 把一条纸带的一段扭180°，再和另一端粘起来就得到一条莫比乌斯带的模型。这也是一个只有莫比乌斯带、一个面的曲面，但是和球面、轮胎面和克莱因瓶不同的是，它有边（注意，它只有一条边）。如果我们把两条莫比烈爆炸。一般认为质量小于9倍太阳质量左右的恒星，在经历引力坍缩的过程后是无法形成超新星的。[75]  在大质量恒星演化到晚期，内部不能产生新的能量，巨大的引力将整个星体迅速向中心坍缩，将中心物质都压成中子状态，形成中子星，而外层下坍的物质遇到这坚硬的“中子核”反弹引起爆炸。这就成为超新星爆发，质量更大时，中心更可形成黑洞。[76]  在超新星爆发的过程中所释放的能量，需要我们的太阳燃烧900亿年才能与之相当。[77]  超新星研究有着关乎人类自身命运的深层意义。如果一颗超新星爆发的位置非常接近地球，目前国际天文学界普遍认为此距离在100光年以内，它就能够对地球的生物圈产生明显的影响，这样的超新星被称为近地超新星。有研究认为，在地球历史上的奥陶纪大灭绝，就是一颗近地超新星引起的，这次灭绝导致当时地球近60%的海洋生物消失。[78]

克莱因瓶是一个不可定向的二维紧流形，而球面或轮胎面是可 克莱因瓶 克莱因瓶 定向的二维紧流形。如果观察克莱因瓶，有一点似乎令人困惑－－克莱因瓶的瓶颈和瓶身是相交的，换句话说，瓶去探索宇宙的秘密，从而推进了天文学和地理学的发展。1492年，意大利著名的航海家哥伦布发现新大陆，麦哲伦和他的同伴绕地球一周，证明地the girl in the mirror winked with both eyes It was only a quarter past seven. There was no need to hurry home. Sophie's mother always took it easy on Sundays, so she would probably sleep for another two hours. Should she go a bit farther into the woods and try to find Alberto Knox? And why had the dog snarled at her so viciously? Sophie got up and began to walk down the path Hermes had taken. She had the brown envelope with the pages on Plato in her hand. Wherever the path diverged she took the wider one. Birds were chirping everywhere--in the trees and in the air, in bush and thicket. They were busily occupied with their morning pursuits. They knew no difference between weekdays and Sundays. Who had taught them to do all that? Was there a tiny computer inside each one of them, programming them to do certain things? The path led up over a little hill, then steeply down between tall pine trees. The woods were so dense now that she could only see a few yards between the trees. Suddenly she caught sight of something glittering between the pine trunks. It must be a little lake. The path went the other way but Sophie picked her way among the trees. Without really knowing why, she let her feet lead her. The lake was no bigger than a soccer field. Over on the other side she could see a red-painted cabin in a small clearing surrounded by silver birches. A faint wisp of smoke was rising from the chimney. Sophie went down to the water's edge. It was very muddy in many places, but then she noticed a rowboat. It was drawn halfway out of the water. There was a pair of oars in it. Sophie looked around. Whatever she did, it would be impossible to get around the lake to the red cabin without getting her shoes soaked. She went resolutely over to the boat and pushed it into the water. Then she climbed aboard, set the oars in the rowlocks, and rowed across the lake. The boat soon touched the opposite bank. Sophie went ashore and tried to pull the boat up after her. The bank was much steeper here than the opposite bank had been. She glanced over her shoulder only once before walking up toward the cabin. She was quite startled at her own boldness. How did she dare do this? She had no idea. It was as if "something" impelled her. Sophie went up to the door and knocked. She waited a while but nobody answered. She tried the handle cautiously, and the door opened. "Hallo!" she called. "Is anyone at home?" She went in and found herself in a living room. She dared not shut the door behind her. Somebody was obviously living here. Sophie could hear wood crackling in the old stove. Someone had been here very recently. On a big dining table stood a typewriter, some books, a couple of pencils, and a pile of paper. A smaller table and two chairs stood by the window that overlooked the lake. Apart from that there was very little furniture, although the whole of one wall was lined with book-shelves filled with books. Above a white chest of drawers hung a large round mirror in a heavy brass frame. It looked very old. On one of the walls hung two pictures. One was an oil painting of a white house which lay a stone's throw from a little bay with a red boathouse. Between the house and the boathouse was a sloping garden with an apple tree, a few thick bushes, and some rocks. A dense fringe of birch trees framed the garden like a garland. The title of the painting was "Bjerkely." Beside that painting hung an old portrait of a man sitting in a chair by a window. He had a book in his lap. This picture also had a little bay with trees and rocks in the background. It looked as though it had been painted several hundred years ago. The title of the picture was "Berkeley." The painter's name was Smibert. Berkeley and Bjerkely. How strange! Sophie continued her investigation. A door led from the living room to a small kitchen. Someone had just done the dishes. Plates and glasses were piled on a tea towel, some of them still glistening with drops of soapy water. There was a tin bowl on the floor with some leftover scraps of food in it. Whoever lived here had a pet, a dog or a cat. Sophie went back to the living room. Another door led to a tiny bedroom. On the floor next to the bed there were a couple of blankets in a thick bundle. Sophie discovered some golden hairs on the blankets. Here was the evidence! Now Sophie knew that the occupants of the cabin were Alberto Knox and Hermes. Back in the living room, Sophie stood in front of the mirror. The glass was matte and scratched, and her reflection correspondingly blurred. Sophie began to make faces at herself like she did at home in the bathroom. Her reflection did exactly the same, which was only to be expected. But all of a sudden something scary happened. Just once--in the space of a split second--Sophie saw quite clearly that the girl in the mirror winked with both eyes. Sophie started back in fright. If she herself had winked--how could she have seen the other girl wink? And not only that, it seemed as though the other girl had winked at Sophie as if to say: I can see you, Sophie. I am in here, on the other side. Sophie felt her heart beating, and at the same time she heard a dog barking in the distance. Hermes! She had to get out of here at once. Then she noticed a green wallet on the chest of drawers under the mirror. It contained a hundred-crown note, a fifty, and a school I.D. card. It showed a picture of a girl with fair hair. Under the picture was the girl's name: Hilde Moller Knag ... Sophie shivered. Again she heard the dog bark. She had to get out, at once! As she hurried past the table she noticed a white envelope between all the books and the pile of paper. It had one word written on it: SOPHIE. Before she had time to realize what she was doing, she grabbed the envelope and stuffed it into the brown envelope with the Plato pages. Then she rushed out of the door and slammed it behind her. The barking was getting closer. But worst of all was that the boat was gone. After a second or two she saw it, adrift halfway across the lake. One of the oars was floating beside it. All because she hadn't been able to pull it completely up on land. She heard the dog barking quite nearby now and saw movements between the trees on the other side of the lake. Sophie didn't hesitate any longer. With the big envelope in her hand, she plunged into the bushes behind the cabin. Soon she was having to wade through marshy ground, sinking in several times to well above her ankles. But she had to keep going. She had to get home. Presently she stumbled onto a path. Was it the path she had taken earlier? She stopped to wring out her dress. And then she began to cry. How could she have been so stupid? The worst of all was the boat. She couldn't forget the sight of the row-boat with the one oar drifting helplessly on the lake. It was all so embarrassing, so shameful. . . The philosophy teacher had probably reached the lake by now. He would need the boat to get home. Sophie felt almost like a criminal. But she hadn't done it on purpose. The envelope! That was probably even worse. Why had she taken it? Because her name was on it, of course, so in a way it was hers. But even so, she felt like a thief. And what's more, she had provided the evidence that it was she who had been there. Sophie drew the note out of the envelope. It said: What came first--the chicken or the "idea" chicken ? Are we born with innate "ideas"? What is the difference between a plant, an animal, and a human? Why does it rain? What does it take to live a good life? Sophie couldn't possibly think about these questions right now, but she assumed they had something to do with the next philosopher. Wasn't he called Aristotle? When she finally saw the hedge after running so far through the woods it was like swimming ashore after a shipwreck. The hedge looked funny from the other side. She didn't look at her watch until she had crawled into the den. It was ten-thirty. She put the big envelope into the biscuit tin with the other papers and stuffed the note with the new questions down her tights. Her mother was on the telephone when she came in. When she saw Sophie she hung up quickly. "Where on earth have you been?" "I... went for a walk ... in the woods," she stammered. "So I see." Sophie stood silently, watching the water dripping from her dress. "I called Joanna..." "Joanna?" Her mother brought her some dry clothes. Sophie only just managed to hide the philosopher's n "What do you do when you're together, Sophie? Why are you so wet?" Sophie sat staring gravely at the table. But deep down inside she was laughing. Poor Mom, now she had that to worry about. She shook her head again. Then more questions came raining down on her. "Now I want the truth. Were you out all night? Why did you go to bed with your clothes on? Did you sneak out as soon as I had gone to bed? You're only fourteen, Sophie. I demand to know who you are seeing!" Sophie started to cry. Then she talked. She was still frightened, and when you are frightened you usually talk. She explained that she had woken up very early and had gone for a walk in the woods. She told her mother about the cabin and the boat, and about the mysterious mirror. But she mentioned nothing about the secret correspondence course. Neither did she mention the green wallet. She didn't quite know why, but she had to keep Hilde for herself. Her mother put her arms around Sophie, and Sophie knew that her mother believed her now. "I don't have a boyfriend," Sophie sniffed. "It was just something I said because you were so upset about the white rabbit." "And you really went all the way to the major's cabin ..." said her mother thoughtfully. "The major's cabin?" Sophie stared at her mother. "The little woodland cabin is called the major's cabin because some years ago an army major lived there for a time. He was rather eccentric, a little crazy, I think. But never mind that. Since then the cabin has been unoccupied." "But it isn't! There's a philosopher living there now." "Oh stop, don't start fantasizing again!" Sophie stayed in her room, thinking about what had happened. Her head felt like a roaring circus full of lumbering elephants, silly clowns, daring trapeze flyers, and trained monkeys. But one image recurred unceasingly-- a small rowboat with one oar drifting in a lake deep in the woods--and someone needing the boat to get home. She felt sure that the philosophy teacher didn't wish her any harm, and would certainly forgive her if he knew she had been to his cabin. But she had broken an agreement. That was all the thanks he got for taking on her philosophic education. How could she make up for it? Sophie took out her pink notepaper and began to write: Dear Philosopher, It was me who was in your cabin early Sunday morning. I wanted so much to meet you and discuss some of the philosophic problems. For the moment I am a Plato fan, but I am not so sure he was right about ideas or pattern pictures existing in another reality. Of course they exist in our souls, but I think--for the moment anyway-- that this is a different thing. I have to admit too that I am not altogether convinced of the immortality of the soul. Personally, I have no recollections from my former lives. If you could convince me that my deceased grandmother's soul is happy in the world of ideas, I would be most grateful. Actually, it was Are we born with innate "ideas"? Most unlikely, thought Sophie. She could hardly imagine a newborn baby being especially well equipped with ideas. One could obviously never be sure, because the fact that the baby had no language did not necessarily mean that it had no ideas in its head. But surely we have to see things in the world before we can know anything about them. And Joanna, of course. And Jeremy, perhaps. But that's for you to decide. I remember my own fifteenth birthday so clearly, you know. It doesn't seem all that long ago. I felt I was already quite grown up. Isn't it odd, Sophie! I don't feel I have changed at all since then." "You haven't. Nothing changes. You have just developed, gotten older..." 球是圆形的，使人们开始真正认识地球。[4] 对他国的影响 在教会严密控制下的中世纪，也发生过轰轰烈烈的宗教革命。因为天主教的很多教义不符合圣经的教诲，而加入了太多教皇的个人意志以及各类神学家的自身成果，所以很多信徒开始质疑天主教的教义和组织，发起回归圣经的行动来。捷克的爱国主义者、布拉格大学校长扬·胡斯（1369～1415年）在君士坦丁堡的宗教会议上公开谴责德意志封建主与天主教会对捷克的压迫和剥削。他虽然被反动教会处以火刑，但他的革命活动在社会上引起了强烈的反应。捷克农民在胡斯党人的旗帜下举行起义，这次运动也波及波兰。1517年，在德国，马丁·路德（1483～1546年）反对教会贩卖赎罪符，与罗马教皇公开决裂。1521年，路德又在沃尔姆国会上揭露罗马教廷的罪恶，并提出建立基督教新教的主张。新教的教义得到许多国家的支持，波兰也深受影响。

这是一个香港每一个医学院学生，在毕业时都会宣读的誓词。

不知道在罢工时高喊口号的那些医护人员，有多少还曾记得它。

今天开始的罢工由香港医管局员工阵线发起，罢工时间为5天，目前已有6700名会员加入罢工。

在这些罢工者中，有80%是护士，医生占7%。

参与第一阶段罢工的有3000名医护人员。3日上午，他们跑到多家医院及诊所，呼吁医护界加入罢工行列。

不知道他们在路上，有没有看到排队买口罩的市民排起了长龙？

在罢工之前，就有一些医护人员以极其自私的行为，刷新了人们的下限。

在抽到必须照顾确诊或疑似病例的“生死签”时，有人竟然直接选择了“辞职”，还有的干脆就“集体请假”了。

新型冠状病毒肺炎迅速蔓延，一线医护人员面临极大风险。香港医管局对此设有抽签制度，抽中者须加入俗称“dirty team”的工作，他们的主要工作就是照顾确诊或疑似病例。

从“dirty team”这个名字就能看出，这不是什么好活。所以这也被一些医护人员称为抽“生死签”。

在伊丽莎白医院深切治疗部早前完成抽签程序后，有至少4名护士和一名文员辞职。

他们明确表示，拒绝被编入“dirty team”。

在东区医院、博爱医院和玛嘉烈医院，至少有90名护士相继集体“请病假”，在东区医院手术室，1日原本应有45名护士上班，但最终有多达26人请病假。

超过一半的护士没有上班，这意味着什么呢？

当天有近半的手术室全天没有护士。

在1日的罢工大会现场，“代表”们清一色的黑衣，说自己罢工是被逼的，全场还高呼口号：“罢工救港！罢工救港！”

把自己感动得痛哭流涕，差一点抱头痛哭。

医护人员罢工救港？

这个时候该抱头痛哭的，恐怕是香港那些患者吧？

有网友说：“他们在组织罢工的时候，我们医院都建好三家了。”

2

那么，是什么逼得这些“白衣天使”们非得罢工不可呢？

我们先来看看发起罢工的是个什么组织。

香港医管局员工阵线，这是一个类似工会的组织，在今年元旦期间刚刚成立，其“反修例”的背景十分浓厚。

它的自我简介里的第一句话是：“医管局员工阵线致力于政治问题、HA内部问题、医疗系统问题主动发声。”

看起来，这个“工会”的主要目标并非维护行业权益。它是为政治而生的。

医管局员工阵线发动罢工的原因直接针对港府。

它仿照“修例风波”中的反对派，提出了一些诉求，其中包括“禁止非港人旅客经由中国内地入境”“港府呼吁全港民众戴口罩”“提供足够隔离病房且暂停非紧急服务”等。

其实所有诉求的核心只有一点，要求港府全面封关，禁止内地人进入香港。

对此，港府回应说，从机场入港的内地旅客本来就已经大幅下降了，现在往返两地的有90%都是香港人，而且如果禁止内地人来港，有违世界卫生组织的“不应主张歧视”条款，因此“全面封关的做法不可行”。

说得够清楚了吧？

但是这些医护人员又拿出了“修例风波”中的那一套：我不管我不管，你不答应我就是不愿意跟我沟通，那我就要“揽炒”，大家都没好日子过。

港府是否决定封关，这是香港自己的事。但是疫情肆虐，拿病人的生命当政治筹码，吃相就太难看了。你们不是街头的年轻小混混，你们是医务工作者啊。

这样任性（可能已经不是任性了），后果是严重的。

香港医管局行政总裁高拔陞表示，因为正值冬季流感高峰期，加上又遇到新型肺炎，医管局现在“非常困难”，罢工不仅会让现在的医疗负担加重，也让继续工作的同事负担更重。

医管局总行政经理张子峯则透露，因罢工影响，大概有一半的手术不得不推迟，病人的复诊时间也可能会延长。

有网友这样归纳：“香港医护人员：我们为了香港可以牺牲一切。香港病患：所以就要罢工送我们早日归西吗？”

说实话，叨姐都忍不住心疼香港的病人。

3

这些医护人员的绝对自我利益至上，也让不少香港人感到愤怒，更何况，现在香港仍有大量的医护人员奋战在与病毒赛跑的第一线。目前，已经有数十名私家医生主动表示愿意加入抗击疫情的第一线。

这些罢工者的自私自利，首先愧对的是他们朝夕相处、尽职尽责的同行们。

因为他们玷污的，是这一袭白袍的神圣。

如果看看武汉的医护人员是如何在医疗条件高度匮乏的情况下，整个春节假期不眠不休地工作，看看解放军医护人员是如何在除夕之夜奔赴一线，再看看火神山、雷神山有多少人不计辛劳、不计报酬的付出——只为挽回更多生命，他们会有那么一丝丝无地自容吗？

叨姐不知道。

叨姐只是看到有些人在恬不知耻地高喊：不应对医护人员搞“道德绑架”。他们说，不全面封关就是祸害香港，我们罢工是为了香港的长远利益。

言下之意是不是说，患者如果因为医护罢工而致死，这是必要的牺牲，即使我们不知道要牺牲多少人命？

这样的逻辑原本不应该属于一个成熟的发达社会。

玛嘉烈医院依然有人坚守岗位

一些煽动罢工者还叫嚣，他们是有民意支持的。

他们的数据支持，来自香港民意研究所此前公布的一项调查。在回答“如果政府没有有效处理疫情，你是支持还是反对前线医护人员罢工”的这一问题时，有61%的人选择了支持。

然而很遗憾，这个预设条件的调查是个伪命题。

有人问，如果把调查的问题换成“如果你感染了新型肺炎，你愿意支持医护人员罢工吗”，那民意又该如何？

4

古希腊医者、西方“医学之父”希波克拉底曾经留下一份誓词：

1、我郑重地保证自己要奉献一切为人类服务。我将要给我的师长应有崇敬及感戴；

2、我将要凭我的良心和尊严行医；病人的健康应为我辈首要的顾念；

3、我将要尊重所托予我的秘密；我将要尽我的力量维护医学界的荣誉和高尚的传统；

4、我的同业应被视为我的同胞；我将不容许有任何宗教、国籍、种族、政见或地位的考虑，介乎我的职责和病人之间；

5、我将要尽力维护人的生命，自从受胎时起；即使在威胁之下，我将不运用我的医学知识去违反人道。

6、我郑重地、自主地并且以我的人格宣誓以上的约言。

这一誓词已经流传两千多年。1948年，它被在日内瓦举行的世界医学学会采用。

医护行业的特殊性，首先表现在，每一个医护人员在进入行业之前，都需“郑重地、自主地以人格宣誓”。

一些香港医护人员，是时候好好重读一下希波克拉底誓词了。

无论您有多忙，请花1秒钟的时间把它放到你的圈子里！可能您朋友就需要！谢谢！

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