Option 1 I Am Tracking Every Piece Of My Mailing And Would: Fill & Download for Free

Really!Am I to assume that there are no Volkswagen employees on Quora? or are they busy tackling the issue:PAnyways, I think I can partially answer this question;First let me establish my authority to answer this:I worked for a tier 1 automotive supplier, which is under investigation for its Airbags malfunction, did it ring a bell?If you were following the automotive world news for the past year, this news would have come across quite few times.The company manufactures Airbags for all the leading OEM's in the world, in fact it is consistently ranked 3 worldwide in this category. They are in fact very good in what they do.Last year NHTSA USA started a massive investigation on them, after they linked 8 deaths and more than 100 injuries to its airbag malfunction.A massive recall plan (for 23 million vehicles only in The USA) started. Compare that to only 11 million Volkswagen vehicles worldwide.I was there while all this was going on.So I think I can answer this,This is how it would have started for Volkswagen:1) One fine day, while reading news and sipping a cup of coffee, you’ll (you being a Volkswagen employee) come across a small tiny teeny article about an issue with one of the product from you company. You'll think it’s not a big deal, complete your coffee and head to work.2) On reaching office, you'll find small clusters of people all around the breaking area, discussing this issue, you'll be curious and excited at first.3) After some days the discussion would begin to bore you, but there are still news coming up in papers every day.4) And Boom!!!..... The company confesses the wrong doing on this matter, Releases a nationwide apology to its customer and assures them that this would be handled well.5) Stock price fell by 20%, Employees with ESOP (Employees stock option) have started feeling uneasy at this moment. Company declares a damage control package. Stocks fall by another 10%6) Now the office talks become very interesting, Most of the employees who know nothing more that the common person following this issue in newspaper, would start to give there Expert Engineering advice on the matter.7) Employees have got a solid reason to trash their company and fuck the management. In reality most of them don’t give damn to the real issue, they are just expressing their anger for a shitty performance appraisal they got last month.8) Suddenly you start seeing mails from Vice Presidents and presidents of the PR group, requesting you to refrain from answering any question on this matter to the outside world (This is why we don’t have any one answering on this matter here).9) Company reshuffles the management and brings in a top guy. The old CEO resigns. Employee confirms to companies’ decision, says old CEO was anyways not worthy.10) 99.9% of employees would not feel guiltier on this issue than a common man, and why should they?After all it was not there group who was directly involved in the development and manufacturing of those diesel engines and there Electronic control units.This was just the nuclear explosion, now would start the real fallout from this:This is what would happen next:11) Recall numbers start pouring in and number are way more than anyone ever expected. Then comes the penalty figures by various governments from all over the world.12) The final figure, if at all final, seems to eat away most of this and last year's profits.13) Sales start declining, the mighty Made in Germany shield has been compromised.12) To limit the losses, some of the R and D projects are put on hold. Now people have started feeling uneasy.13) At this point of time, the atmosphere is not very friendly, people start uploaded there resume.14) Company starts losing two types of people: Completely Incompetent and highly competent.15) In its own time Volkswagen completes its recall and takes all the financial blows. Sales have started to bottom out (the worst in the last 60 years).16) Some top notch marketing firm is hired and a revival plan is set in motion.17) For next 1 year you see a Volkswagen advertisement on every piece of paper you come across (hopefully not on my toilet paper). It’s everywhere, on TV, on internet and on social network. And somehow in all the advertisement, the car is shown to save people from fire, from floods from UV rays. They show car saving hanging people from Clift’s and from a lion.18) Eventually all these advertisements would subconsciously make us believe in the power and safety of these German cars.19) 3 Years down the line, sales are on target and I am hoping to pick a girl in a bar, flaunting my new Volkswagen Passat![Edit] : Removed the "stock prices are back on track" statement. Thanks Jonathan Zimmermann for pointing out, The wealth lost by the stock holders is lost forever.

His syllabus[1] from English 102: Literary Analysis is chockfull of interesting facts:Cheap, mass-market paperbacks were the only required reading. The likes of Jackie Collins and Stephen King, he argued, would be "harder than more conventionally 'literary' works to unpack and read critically."Students were required to read each assignment twice before class.He was a hard grader, mostly giving out B-'s and C's. Of the 387 students he'd had at that point, only 47 had ever been given A's.He gave pop quizzes.Conferences were optional: "I am pleased to help you, but I will not force you to let me help you, because this isn't junior high."Participation was strongly encouraged.That last bit is the most poignant nugget of his syllabus:Anybody gets to ask questions about any fiction-related issues she wants. No question about literature is stupid. You are forbidden to keep yourself from asking a question or making a comment because you fear it will sound obvious or unsophisticated or lame or stupid. Because critical reading and prose fiction are such hard, weird things to try to study, a stupid-seeming comment or question can end up being valuable or even profound. I am deadly-serious about creating a classroom environment where everyone feels free to ask or speak about anything she wishes. So any student who groans, smirks, mimes machines-gunning or onanism, chortles, eye-rolls, or in any way ridicules some other student's in-class question/comment will be warned once in private and on the second offense will be kicked out of class and flunked, no matter what week it is. If the offender is male, I am also apt to find him off-campus and beat him up.This does not mean we all have to sit around smiling sweetly at one another for three hours a week. No truths about the form, content, structure, symbolism, theme, or overall artistic quality of any piece of fiction are etched in stone or beyond dispute. In class, you are invited (more like urged) to disagree with one another and with me — and I get to disagree with you — provided we're all respectful of one another and not snide, savage, or abusive. Historically, I've given the highest grades to students whose reading of and opinions about literature were different from mine, provided that those students could argue interestingly and plausibly for their claims. In other words, English 102 is not just a Find-Out-What-The-Teacher-Thinks-And-Regurgitate-It-Back-At-Him course. It's not like math or physics — there are no right or wrong answers (though there are interesting versus dull, fertile versus barren, plausible versus whacko answers).DFW's former student, Caitlin Dwyer, offers this:On the first day of class, Dave wore a cut-off Star Wars sweatshirt and a bandana to tie back his greasy hair. His spectacles gleamed. If I had been expecting the wunderkind of Infinite Jest, my idealized visions crumbled as I watched him spit a stream of black tobacco spittle into a Slurpee cup. He looked less like a militant grammarian than a transient who had accidentally wandered into the English Department. Previous students of Dave Wallace had warned me of his tongue-lashings, his obsessive precision with language, his voluminous footnotes. I had arrived with my armor on, ready for a writerly battle with a giant of literature. But this guy, frankly, looked like a goofball.True, there was something intimidating about Dave. But it was not his obvious genius, his reputation or his awful clothes. He was easy, approachable, often hilarious. It was the work that daunted. His workshops required intensive critical thinking. He demanded allegiance— not to himself, nor to the class, but to the language itself. We served the words. To fail the language, through a half-hearted peer critique or an overlooked comma, was to fail the writers we wished to become.He never failed us. Every week he returned our stories with tomes of comments, meticulously organized and footnoted, each page a bramble of red pen. A five-page story could receive five pages of notes back, single space, 10 pt. font. At first I thought these letters spoke to an obsession with perfection. Later, I began to see that they only reflected the depth of Dave’s heart. To each story he gave the energy that he gave his own writing. His attention stemmed from the profound respect he held for his students.Dave gave this same care to students during office hours, after hours, between hours, when he generously talked us through our paragraphs, our anxiety, and our self-doubt, blinking rapidly from behind a pile of usage dictionaries. The line often ran down the hall.One day I told him, frustrated, that I would stop writing fiction. My stories were not postmodern or hip. I expected a lecture on style. Instead, he told me to relax. Strong writers are not merely good with words, he said; they are deeply aware of themselves. The greats have stopped pretending to write like someone else. “You’re best when you trust yourself,” he said.What Dave Wallace gave us was not a manual for how to write. What he gave us was a way of working with ourselves in a disciplined, compassionate way. Gillian Gurley ‘06 writes, “He changed not only the way I write, but the way I think.” His teaching developed conscious, confident citizens. He taught, as Rachel Monroe ’06 puts it, that “writing, at its best, is an act of generosity on the part of the author…and maybe, in some small strange way, to the world in general.”I did not know David Foster Wallace, the postmodern genius. I knew Dave Wallace, a scruffy, funny, slightly paunchy guy who instructed me to give writing “15 solid years before you give it up.” J.B. Wogan ’06 knew Dave as a “fan boy who gushed about interviewing Roger Federer.” Jim Stier ’05 writes that, three years after graduation, he still has Dave’s cell number in his phone. With due respect to his literature, Dave’s greatest legacy is the community he left behind.In the last few days, old classmates have tracked each other down on Facebook and traded e-mails full of memories. A friend I had not spoken to in several years called to give me the news, her voice tremulous. Students have formed partnerships to collect stories. Many have mentioned a need to reach out to peers who understand that this tragedy goes beyond the loss of a teacher; it is the loss of an idol, a mentor, a friend.Dave’s death has stunned us. But the grace, the confidence, and the eloquence that he developed in us are emerging in response to his death. Kyle Buckley ’07 writes: “I think it’s incredibly important that those of us who will always have so much love and respect for Dave Wallace as a writer, teacher, and man keep lines of communication as open as we can, and not retreat into a self-involved sense of loss, anger, betrayal. I hope that we are all galvanized to strive, in our own ways, to fill the gaping hole he’s left; because, truly, I think he left sufficient gifts behind for us to do it.”Dave gave his students the greatest gift: he taught us how to communicate with each other. The New York Times can write glowing elegies to Dave’s prose. What students recall is his open door, his precise and generous advice, his riotously funny classes and his trademark footnotes.[1] http://www.hrc.utexas.edu/press/releases/2010/dfw/teaching/[2] source: Pomona College magazine: http://www.pomona.edu/magazine/pcmfl08/DEinmemoriam.shtml

Sad News, Friends - Hold on to your diapersToday, Meghan has written an article for the New York Times saying she suffered a miscarriage - in July.She said that she was ‘invited’ to write the article, although I am wondering how the Times even knew about it - oh, wait, it was her newest PR company, of course!The pain still raw, she managed to capture the moments to perfectionIt was a July morning that began as ordinarily as any other day: Make breakfast. Feed the dogs. Take vitamins. Find that missing sock. Pick up the rogue crayon that rolled under the table. Throw my hair in a ponytail before getting my son from his crib.After changing his diaper, I felt a sharp cramp. I dropped to the floor with him in my arms, humming a lullaby to keep us both calm, the cheerful tune a stark contrast to my sense that something was not right.I knew, as I clutched my firstborn child, that I was losing my second.“Clutched”? Is this how you clutch a baby? They must not have let her play with dolls.Hours later, I lay in a hospital bed - Don’t worry, no covid person was going to get near me - because my title hasn’t been taken away yet - and as a Duchess, I’m worth billions!holding my husband’s hand. I felt the clamminess of his palm and kissed his knuckles, wet from both our tears - Awe, this smacks straight out of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ - and we know how much Meghan loves to be a victim - cue the violins!Staring at the cold white walls, my eyes glazed over. I tried to imagine how we’d heal - Yes, I’m sure she was ‘imagining’ $$$ for this episode on her Netflix reality show - you know, the one they’re doing for Netflix - the one they said they would never do?I recalled a moment last year when Harry and I were finishing up a long tour in South Africa. I was exhausted. I was breastfeeding our infant son, and I was trying to keep a brave face in the very public eye - Of course, she was exhausted - giving her speech about being there as a sister, a friend, a mother, and lets not forget - a woman of color - I’m amazed she didn’t faint from all the adoration!“Are you OK?” a journalist asked me. I answered him honestly, not knowing that what I said would resonate with so many — new moms and older ones, and anyone who had, in their own way, been silently suffering. My off-the-cuff reply seemed to give people permission to speak their truth - Yes, Meghan’s mantra is “Use Your Voice” - and people are! Can you hear them, Meghan?But it wasn’t responding honestly that helped me most, it was the question itself.“Thank you for asking,” I said. “Not many people have asked if I’m OK.” - Shame on all of you, for not asking me! Don’t you know who I am?!Sitting in a hospital bed, watching my husband’s heart break as he tried to hold the shattered pieces of mine - Her heart is in shattered pieces - pieces! And we’re learning about it, just now, the day before Thanksgiving, I honestly don’t know how people are going to eat.I realized that the only way to begin to heal is to first ask, “Are you OK?” - She’s needs us to ask her again, okay - Hey, Meghan, how the heck are ya’?Are we? This year has brought so many of us to our breaking points. Loss and pain have plagued every one of us in 2020, in moments both fraught and debilitating. We’ve heard all the stories: A woman starts her day, as normal as any other, but then receives a call that she’s lost her elderly mother to Covid-19. A man wakes feeling fine, maybe a little sluggish, but nothing out of the ordinary. He tests positive for the coronavirus and within weeks, he — like hundreds of thousands of others — has died. - Isn’t it sweet that Meghan is expressing her concerns about Covid, eleven months after it first arrived? In her defense, though, it is so secluded where she lives now, mail is only delivered by pony express and the $100 million they’re making from Netflix hasn’t come yet, so they have no way of communicating with the world - and I hear she’s renting out her bathrooms to the homeless - yes, just like the ones she wouldn’t allow on the street at her wedding.A young woman named Breonna Taylor goes to sleep, just as she’s done every night before, but she doesn’t live to see the morning because a police raid turns horribly wrong. George Floyd leaves a convenience store, not realizing he will take his last breath under the weight of someone’s knee, and in his final moments, calls out for his mom. Peaceful protests become violent. Health rapidly shifts to sickness. In places where there was once community, there is now division. - It’s a funny thing - Tyler Perry (huge writer, director, producer) spent his Pre-Thanksgiving, giving Thanksgiving Meals to 5,000 families, out of his own pocket, and actor Tracy Morgan spent his time, giving out 1,200 Turkeys, while Meghan spent her day before Thanksgiving, writing about her pain and still managing to weave racism into it. Perhaps she could do something for Breonna Taylor and George Floyd’s families, to help boost her image, because so far, her PR companies aren’t doing very well with her.And it’s not too late for them to volunteer serving dinners at Christmas, at the Fred Jordan Mission, in L.A. - there will be lots of black people there, too - they don’t have to go to Africa to find poor black people. But they would have to hide the private jet they took to get there, since it might rub salt in the wound taking a private jet to help poor black people who struggle to just get one meal a day - if they’re lucky.On top of all of this, it seems we no longer agree on what is true. We aren’t just fighting over our opinions of facts; we are polarized over whether the fact is, in fact, a fact. We are at odds over whether science is real. We are at odds over whether an election has been won or lost. We are at odds over the value of compromise. - Ah, the truth - if only people knew when Meghan was, in fact, telling the truth. I know she’s lied in her court case, so that’s a fact. There are those who say she’s lied multiple times but it’s very easy to clear it up - show the truth and no one will wonder anymore because there are people, many people, who don’t feel they can take whatever she says as fact - she’s ruined her credibility.She (and Harry) will need to spend the next five years, telling the truth and being willing to prove it - they will have to be completely transparent if they want to have the trust of the public again - And this is a fact.That polarization, coupled with the social isolation required to fight this pandemic, has left us feeling more alone than ever. - Alone? Really? Many are having to work from home and their kids are doing online schooling - they can’t escape to be alone!When I was in my late teens, I sat in the back of a taxi zipping through the busyness and bustle of Manhattan. I looked out the window and saw a woman on her phone in a flood of tears. She was standing on the sidewalk, living out a private moment very publicly. At the time, the city was new to me, and I asked the driver if we should stop to see if the woman needed help.He explained that New Yorkers live out their personal lives in public spaces. “We love in the city, we cry in the street, our emotions and stories there for anybody to see,” I remember him telling me. “Don’t worry, somebody on that corner will ask her if she’s OK.”Now, all these years later, in isolation and lockdown, grieving the loss of a child, the loss of my country’s shared belief in what’s true, I think of that woman in New York. What if no one stopped? What if no one saw her suffering? What if no one helped?I wish I could go back and ask my cabdriver to pull over. This, I realize, is the danger of siloed living — where moments sad, scary or sacrosanct are all lived out alone. There is no one stopping to ask, “Are you OK?” - So, we’re back to asking if she’s okay again, I’ll try and take it up a notch - HEY, MEGHAN, ARE YOU OKAY?Losing a child means carrying an almost unbearable grief, experienced by many but talked about by few. In the pain of our loss, my husband and I discovered that in a room of 100 women, 10 to 20 of them will have suffered from miscarriage. Yet despite the staggering commonality of this pain, the conversation remains taboo, riddled with (unwarranted) shame, and perpetuating a cycle of solitary mourning. - There is nothing “taboo” about something you have no control over - most women don’t speak about it because it’s so personal - they choose to share it with only family and close friends.Some have bravely shared their stories; they have opened the door, knowing that when one person speaks truth, it gives license for all of us to do the same. We have learned that when people ask how any of us are doing, and when they really listen to the answer, with an open heart and mind, the load of grief often becomes lighter — for all of us. In being invited to share our pain, together we take the first steps toward healing. - Yes, of all times, share your pain at Thanksgiving!So, in conclusion:Did Meghan really have a miscarriage or is she lying? We will never know - unless they can get their doctor to cut his finger and write in blood that it’s true - and Meghan doesn’t have a track record for telling the truth - so that nasty doubt lingers whenever she announces something.If she did, why didn’t she give any details, such as how far along was she, did she have a name yet? Chrissy Teigen shared all the details of her story and even included a picture of her holding her baby - so I believe her - and yes, Netflix, it’s too late to do a retake showing Meghan with her dead baby, so don’t even go there.But what I can’t get past, is that - true or not - Meghan decided to share her ‘pain’ at Thanksgiving - a national holiday when people are thinking about seeing their families, not losing them. Especially when this happened five months ago.And the most lingering question - who, from the New York Times, ‘invited’ her to share her story, as she says they did, and how did they, a major newspaper, even know it happened?Let’s consider a few options -A medium contacted the New York Times and told them they were feeling that someone with an ‘M’ in their name had a miscarriage and they needed to run the story, right at Thanksgiving, so the paper frantically did a search on a “Find People for free” site and called everyone in the world with an “M” in her name, and asked her if she had miscarried and she said no. Then two days later, she called them back and told them she had finally miscarried!She contacted them, invited herself to write it, but they turned her down.She begged them to let her write it - how could they turn down a woman in such anguish - and asked them to publish it right at Thanksgiving - which could not be any tackier - but Meghan’s PR companies haven’t been up to snuff for her, so she decided to take the bull by the horns and promote herself.I’m leaning toward #3. The newspaper certainly had no way of knowing unless Meghan, her PR company - or one of her five friends - told them (you just can’t trust five friends anymore). And just like she had said that she didn’t want to act in her reality show, but Netflix ‘twisted her arm to do it”, the New York Times pleaded with her to share her story, and told her how it would help so many women to read it at Thanksgiving dinner….