William Shakespeare s Macbeth And The Throne Of Blood

Sonora Shelton Mr. Ortiz English 12 Pd. 4 March 1, 2017 Unit 3: Comparison Essay Shakespearean literature has impacted and inspired many audiences throughout it’s course through time. It’s influences and messages spread throughout the world, to be adopted and remade in many different cultures. One example is the Japanese samurai movie, â€Å"Throne of Blood,† which was based off of Shakespeare’s play, â€Å"Macbeth.† The Throne of Blood and Macbeth’s characters have striking similarities, but many differences that give each piece their own individuality. Macbeth and Washizu, (the Japanese inspired Macbeth character), in the beginning both encountered the supernatural set in a forest. Each supernatural being and beings gave prophecies to the†¦show more content†¦Both characters were murdered from their fatal flaw, ambition. Contrarily, by whom and the manner in which they were murdered deviated from one another. Both Macbeth and Washizu were under attack from just like the third apparition prophesied. Macduff’s and Malcolm’s army moved in on Dunsinane Hill, camouflaged as the Birnam Wood forest. As the battle raged on, Macduff fought Macbeth, and slew him. Macduff took Macbeth’s life at the end for vengeance. In Throne of Blood, during the battle, instead of Noriyasu directly fighting him, the King’s own men turned against him and struck arrows at Washizu, (Throne of Blood). An arrow plunged deep through his neck, and killed him. Again, both characters were killed by their vulnerabilities: desire, greed, vigor, intent, and most importantly, ambition. Lady Macbeth and Asaji both manipulated their husbands and led them astray due to their aspirations and greed themselves. Lady Macbeth used tempting words to spark the desire of Macbeth. On the other hand, Asaji, who was a very soft spoken character, said very little but used simply just her facial expressions to imply her thoughts. She concealed her intuitions, which made her husband extreme ly vulnerable. Washizu’s laudable view turned dark and ambiguous, all because his wife kept on hinting him that the seeking of crown and status was a conduct that Shelton 3 should not arouse any guilt nor pain due to her own calmness. As a lively and outspoken character,Show MoreRelatedLuis Sotelo. Mr. Ortiz. English 12. 27 February 2017. Macbeth1258 Words   |  6 Pages2017 Macbeth vs Throne of Blood In â€Å"Tthe Tragedy of Macbeth† by William Shakespeare, there is a big focus on the character itself instead of the plot of the play. Each character is of high importance to the tragedy and the developing plot that leads to Macbeth’s downfall. Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Banquo, and even minor characters such as the witches all mold and shape Macbeth’s fate and make it a tragic one. In the Throne of Blood (1957) by Akira Kurosawa, a reenactment of the play by Shakespeare, highRead MoreThrone Of Blood, By Akira Kurasawa1205 Words   |  5 PagesAkira Kurasawa’s film, Throne of Blood, is often viewed as an interpretation of William Shakespeare’s play, Macbeth. Both works follow a similar story line and address themes that are relevant to a modern audience. One major theme in both works is the idea that absolute power corrupts mankind. William Shakespeare and Akira Kurasawa both address this theme of power corruption through the use of symbolism and emot ion. While Throne of Blood is based off of Macbeth, it is portrayed very differentlyRead MoreAdrienne Taylor. Mr. Ortiz. English 12. 27 February 2017.1508 Words   |  7 Pagesmovies. Throne of Blood is a movie based on Macbeth, a tragedy written by Shakespeare. Throne of Blood transposes the plot of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Instead of it being Medieval Scotland, it is Feudal Japan. Macbeth is based around a warrior who becomes filled with ambition and does anything he can to get what he wants. He talks to the â€Å"Weird Sisters,† which are the three witches who give him a prophecy and from that day forward, Macbeth is filled with ambition to become king. In Throne of Blood, WashizuRead MoreGerald Deocariza Iii. Mrs. Jardine. English 3, Period 4.1161 Words   |  5 Pagesserious downfall and set as the protagonists of a dramatic tragedy. A tragic hero gets For example, William Shakespeare wrote a play called The Tragedy of Macbeth to show Macbeth’s uprisings and dow nfalls. Macbeth’s downfall results to wrong judgements that combines fate and external forces. If his downfalls does not kill him, his downfalls can cause the tragic hero to suffer for the rest of his life. Macbeth gains the utmost respect from other people; on the other hand, he also loses everything he gainedRead MoreAmbition and Death - the Story of the Renaissance in Macbeth1189 Words   |  5 PagesRenaissance in Macbeth In the tragic drama Macbeth, written by William Shakespeare in 1606 during the English Renaissance, the hero, Macbeth, constantly declines in his level of morality until his death at the end of the play. Because of his change of character from good to evil, Macbeth s attitude towards other characters, specifically Duncan, Banquo, Lady Macbeth, and the witches, is significantly affected. In a larger sense, the theme of bad versus good kingship, embodied by Macbeth and DuncanRead MoreBlood Imagery in Macbeth857 Words   |  4 PagesShakespeare is legendary for his uses of symbolism. No other example is as evident as the bloody hands of Macbeth and his obsession with them. Macbeth has killed King Duncan and doesn’t stop there, he kills the guards making Duncan’s sons flee. This gives Macbeth the throne. However he becomes overwhelmed with the guilt. Shakespeare uses blood to show how it reminds Macbeth of the violent acts he has committed and how he has become obsessed wi th the blood on his hands. Initially the blood representsRead MoreThe Tragedy Of Macbeth By William Shakespeare1023 Words   |  5 PagesWilliam Shakespeare is one the greatest writer of all time. Writing hundreds of books and scripts, Shakespeare founded his most success in his plays in the 1589-1613. One of his most popular plays is the Tragedy of Macbeth. The Tragedy of Macbeth was a turn from glory to tragedy. A story of a true tragic hero. Macbeth is a brave soldier in a war for Scotland. A tale of a great soilder that was highly praise in his kingdom turn to a tragic murderous sinful king. Macbeth kill his friends and hisRead MoreMacbeth, By William Shakespeare1431 Words   |  6 Pages Macbeth, though originally a valiant and prudent soldier, deteriorates into an unwise king whose rash decisions conclusively end in the atrophy of his title, power, and position. Several factors contribute to the downfall of Macbeth, which produce a contagion effect and ultimately end with his demise. He receives h elp from his â€Å"inner ambitions and external urgings† which result in his downfall (Bernad 49). The â€Å"external urgings† consist of the weird sisters who disclose his prophecies, which enlightenRead MoreBlood Imagery in Macbeth Essay1451 Words   |  6 PagesMacbeth is the ultimate story of a fight between the forces of good and evil. It tells the tale of a tragic hero whose quest for power leads to his ultimate downfall. Macbeth starts out as an honorable warrior but changes when his ambition becomes uncontrollable. As he becomes increasingly paranoid, Macbeth uses violent means to eliminate threats to his Scottish throne. As the play progresses, blood continuously plays a part in the events as the murders become more frequent. William ShakespeareRead MoreThe Use Of Imagery In Macbeth1428 Words   |  6 Pagesobjects, ideas, and actions using figurative language, in a way that appeals to our physical senses, Shakespeare was an expert at employing this tech nique in his works, with one of his most famous and renowned, Macbeth, using this device to perfection. Macbeth is a tragedy by William Shakespeare, illustrating the psychological effects of political ambition on those who seek power for its own sake. Shakespeare utilizes imagery numerous times throughout the play, prompting the audience to think and create

A Dirty Job Chapter 3 Free Essays

string(187) " people were gathered around the dead man in a wide semicircle, their hands to their mouths, and no one was paying any attention to the frightened thin man spouting nonsense behind them\." 3 BENEATH THE NUMBER FORTY-ONE BUS It was two weeks before Charlie left the apartment and walked down to the auto-teller on Columbus Avenue where he first killed a guy. His weapon of choice was the number forty-one bus, on its way from the Trans Bay station, by the Bay Bridge, to the Presidio, by the Golden Gate Bridge. If you’re going to get hit by a bus in San Francisco, you want to go with the forty-one, because you can pretty much figure on there being a nice bridge view. We will write a custom essay sample on A Dirty Job Chapter 3 or any similar topic only for you Order Now Charlie hadn’t really counted on killing a guy that morning. He had hoped to get some twenties for the register at the thrift store, check his balance, and maybe pick up some yellow mustard at the deli. (Charlie was not a brown mustard kind of guy. Brown mustard was the condiment equivalent of skydiving – it was okay for race-car drivers and serial killers, but for Charlie, a fine line of French’s yellow was all the spice that life required.) After the funeral, friends and relatives had left a mountain of cold cuts in Charlie’s fridge, which was all he’d eaten for the past two weeks, but now he was down to ham, dark rye, and premixed Enfamil formula, none of which was tolerable without yellow mustard. He’d secured the yellow squeeze bottle and felt safer now with it in his jacket pocket, but when the bus hit the guy, mustard completely slipped Charlie’s mind. It was a warm day in October, the light had gone autumn soft over the city, the summer fog had ceased its relentless crawl out of the Bay each morning, and there was just enough breeze that the few sailboats that dotted the Bay looked like they might have been posing for an Impressionist painter. In the split second that Charlie’s victim realized that he was being run over, he might not have been happy about the event, but he couldn’t have picked a nicer day for it. The guy’s name was William Creek. He was thirty-two and worked as a market analyst in the financial district, where he had been headed that morning when he decided to stop at the auto-teller. He was wearing a light wool suit and running shoes, his work shoes were tucked into a leather satchel under his arm. The handle of a compact umbrella protruded from the side pocket of the satchel, and it was this that caught Charlie’s attention, for while the handle of the umbrella appeared to be made of faux walnut burl, it was glowing a dull red as if it had been heated in a forge. Charlie stood in the ATM line trying not to notice, trying to appear uninterested, but he couldn’t help but stare. It was glowing, for fuck’s sake, didn’t anyone see it? William Creek glanced over his shoulder as he slid his card into the machine, saw Charlie looking at him, then tried to will his suit coat to expand into great manta-ray wings to block Charlie’s view as he keyed in his PIN number. Creek snatched his card and the expectorated cash from the machine, turned, and headed away quickly toward the corner. Charlie couldn’t stand it any longer. The umbrella handle had begun to pulsate red, like a beating heart. As Creek reached the curb, Charlie said, â€Å"Excuse me. Excuse me, sir!† When Creek turned, Charlie said, â€Å"Your umbrella – â€Å" At that point, the number forty-one bus was coming through the intersection at Columbus and Vallejo at about thirty-five miles per hour, angling toward the curb for its next stop. Creek looked down at the satchel under his arm where Charlie was pointing, and the heel of his running shoe caught the slight rise of the curb. He started to lose his balance, the sort of thing we all might do on any given day while walking through the city, trip on a crack in the sidewalk and take a couple of quick steps to regain equilibrium, but William Creek took only one step. Back. Off the curb. You can’t really sugarcoat it at this point, can you? The number forty-one bus creamed him. He flew a good fifty feet through the air before he hit the back window of a SAAB like a great gabardine sack of meat, then bounced back to the pavement and commenced to ooze fluids. His belongings – the satchel, the umbrella, a gold tie bar, a Tag Heuer watch – skittered on down the street, ricocheting off tires, shoes, manhole covers, some coming to rest nearly a block away. Charlie stood at the curb trying to breathe. He could hear a tooting sound, like someone was blowing a toy train whistle – it was all he could hear, then someone ran into him and he realized it was the sound of his own rhythmic whimpering. The guy – the guy with the umbrella – had just been wiped out of the world. People rushed, crowded around, a dozen were barking into cell phones, the bus driver nearly flattened Charlie as he rushed down the sidewalk toward the carnage. Charlie staggered after him. â€Å"I was just going to ask him – â€Å" No one looked at Charlie. It had taken all of his will, as well as a pep talk from his sister, to leave the apartment, and now this? â€Å"I was just going to tell him that his umbrella was on fire,† Charlie said, as if he was explaining to his accusers. But no one accused him, really. They ran by him, some headed toward the body, some away from it – they batted him around and looked back, baffled, like they’d collided with a rough air current or a ghost instead of a man. â€Å"The umbrella,† Charlie said, looking for the evidence. Then he spotted it, almost down at the next corner, lying in the gutter, still glowing red, pulsating like failing neon. â€Å"There! See!† But people were gathered around the dead man in a wide semicircle, their hands to their mouths, and no one was paying any attention to the frightened thin man spouting nonsense behind them. You read "A Dirty Job Chapter 3" in category "Essay examples" He threaded his way through the crowd toward the umbrella, determined now to confirm his conviction, too far in shock to be afraid. When he was only ten feet away from it he looked up the street to make sure another bus wasn’t coming before he ventured off the curb. He looked back just as a delicate, tar-black hand snaked out of the storm drain and snatched the compact umbrella off the street. Charlie backed away, looking around to see if anyone had seen what he had seen, but no one had. No one even made eye contact. A policeman trotted by and Charlie grabbed his sleeve as he passed, but when the cop spun around and his eyes went wide with confusion, then what appeared to be real terror, Charlie let him go. â€Å"Sorry,† he said. â€Å"Sorry. I can see you’ve got work to do – sorry.† The cop shuddered and pushed through the crowd of onlookers toward the battered body of William Creek. Charlie started running, across Columbus and up Vallejo, until his breath and heartbeat in his ears drowned all the sounds of the street. When he was a block away from his shop a great shadow moved over him, like a low-flying aircraft or a huge bird, and with it Charlie felt a chill vibrate up his back. He lowered his head, pumped his arms, and rounded the corner of Mason just as the cable car was passing, full of smiling tourists who looked right through him. He glanced up, just for a second, and he thought he saw something above, disappearing over the roof of the six-story Victorian across the street, then he bolted through the front door of his shop. â€Å"Hey, boss,† Lily said. She was sixteen, pale, and a little bottom heavy – her grown-woman form still in flux between baby fat and baby bearing. Today her hair happened to be lavender: fifties-housewife helmet hair in Easter-basket cellophane pastel. Charlie was bent over, leaning against a case full of curios by the door, sucking in deep raspy gulps of secondhand store mustiness. â€Å"I – think – I – just – killed – a – guy,† he gasped. â€Å"Excellent,† Lily said, ignoring equally his message and his demeanor. â€Å"We’re going to need change for the register.† â€Å"With a bus,† Charlie said. â€Å"Ray called in,† she said. Ray Macy was Charlie’s other employee, a thirty-nine-year-old bachelor with an unhealthy lack of boundaries between the Internet and reality. â€Å"He’s flying to Manila to meet the love of his life. A Ms. LoveYouLongTime. Ray’s convinced that they are soul mates.† â€Å"There was something in the sewer,† Charlie said. Lily examined a chip in her black nail polish. â€Å"So I cut school to cover. I’ve been doing that since you’ve been, uh, gone. I’m going to need a note.† Charlie stood up and made his way to the counter. â€Å"Lily, did you hear what I said?† He grabbed her by the shoulders, but she spun out of his grasp. â€Å"Ouch! Fuck. Back off, Asher, you sado freak, that’s a new tattoo.† She punched him in the arm, hard, and backed away, rubbing her own shoulder. â€Å"I heard, you. Cease your trippin’, s’il vous plaà ®t.† Lately, since discovering Baudelaire’s Fleurs du Mal in a stack of used books in the back room, Lily had been peppering her speech with French phrases. â€Å"French better expresses the profound noirness of my existence,† she had said. Charlie put both hands on the counter to keep them from shaking, then spoke slowly and deliberately, like he was speaking to someone for whom English was a second language: â€Å"Lily, I’m having kind of a bad month, and I appreciate that you are throwing away your education so you can come here and alienate customers for me, but if you don’t sit down and show me a little fucking human decency, then I’m going to have to let you go.† Lily sat down on the chrome-and-vinyl diner stool behind the register and pulled her long lavender bangs out of her eyes. â€Å"So you want me to pay close attention to your confession to murder? Take notes, maybe get an old cassette recorder off the shelf and get everything down on tape? You’re saying that by trying to ignore your obvious distress, which I would have to later recall to the police, so I can be personally responsible for sending you to the gas chamber, that I’m being inconsiderate?† Charlie shuddered. â€Å"Jeez, Lily.† He was continually surprised at the speed and accuracy of her creepiness. She was like some creepiness child prodigy. But on the bright side, her extreme darkness made him realize that he probably wasn’t going to go to the gas chamber. â€Å"It wasn’t that kind of killing. There was something following me, and – â€Å" â€Å"Silence!† Lily put her hand up, â€Å"I’d rather not show my employee spirit by committing every detail of your heinous crime to my photographic memory to be recalled in court later. I’ll just say that I saw you but you seemed normal for someone without a clue.† â€Å"You don’t have a photographic memory.† â€Å"I do, too, and it’s a curse. I can never forget the futility of – â€Å" â€Å"You forgot to take out the trash at least eight times last month.† â€Å"I didn’t forget.† Charlie took a deep breath, the familiarity of arguing with Lily was actually calming him down. â€Å"Okay then, without looking, what color shirt are you wearing?† He raised an eyebrow like he had her there. Lily smiled and for a second he could see that she was just a kid, kind of cute and goofy under the fierce makeup and attitude. â€Å"Black.† â€Å"Lucky guess.† â€Å"You know I only own black.† She grinned. â€Å"Glad you didn’t ask hair color, I just changed this morning.† â€Å"That’s not good for you, you know. That dye has toxins.† Lily lifted the lavender wig to reveal her close-cut maroon locks underneath, then dropped it again. â€Å"I’m all natural.† She stood and patted the bar stool. â€Å"Sit, Asher. Confess. Bore me.† Lily leaned back against the counter, and tilted her head to look attentive, but with her dark eye makeup and lavender hair it came off more like a marionette with a broken string. Charlie came around the counter and sat on the stool. â€Å"I was just in line behind this William Creek guy, and I saw his umbrella glowing†¦Ã¢â‚¬  And Charlie went through the whole story to her, the umbrella, the bus, the hand from the storm sewer, the bolt for home with the giant dark shadow above the rooftops, and when he was finished, Lily asked, â€Å"So how do you know his name?† â€Å"Huh?† Charlie said. Of all of the horrible, fantastic things she might have asked about, why that? â€Å"How do you know the guy’s name?† Lily repeated. â€Å"You barely spoke to the guy before he bit it. You see it on his receipt or something?† â€Å"No, I†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He didn’t have any idea how he knew the man’s name, but suddenly there was a picture in his head of it written out in big, block letters. He leapt off the stool. â€Å"I gotta go, Lily.† He ran through the door into the stockroom and up the steps. â€Å"I still need a note for school,† Lily shouted from below, but Charlie was dashing through the kitchen, past a large Russian woman who was bouncing his baby daughter in her arms, and into the bedroom, where he snatched up the notepad he kept on his nightstand by the phone. There, in his own blocky handwriting, was written the name William Creek and, under it, the number 12. He sat down hard on the bed, holding the notepad like it was a vial of explosives. Behind him came the heavy steps of Mrs. Korjev as she followed him into the bedroom. â€Å"Mr. Asher, what is wrong? You run by like burning bear.† And Charlie, because he was a Beta Male, and there had evolved over millions of years a standard Beta response to things inexplicable, said, â€Å"Someone is fucking with me.† Lily was touching up her nail polish with a black Magic Marker when Stephan, the mailman, came through the shop door. â€Å"‘Sup, Darque?† Stephan said, sorting a stack of mail out of his bag. He was forty, short, muscular, and black. He wore wraparound sunglasses, which were almost always pushed back on his head over hair braided in tight cornrows. Lily had mixed feelings about him. She liked him because he called her Darque, short for Darquewillow Elventhing, the name under which she received mail at the shop, but because he was cheerful and seemed to like people, she deeply mistrusted him. â€Å"Need you to sign,† Stephan said, offering her an electronic pad, on which she scribbled Charles Baudelaire with great flourish and without even looking. Stephan plopped the mail on the counter. â€Å"Working alone again? So where is everyone?† â€Å"Ray’s in the Philippines, Charlie’s traumatized.† She sighed. â€Å"Weight of the world falls on me – â€Å" â€Å"Poor Charlie,† Stephan said. â€Å"They say that’s the worst thing you can go through, losing a spouse.† â€Å"Yeah, there’s that, too. Today he’s traumatized because he saw a guy get hit by a bus up on Columbus.† â€Å"Heard about that. He gonna be okay?† â€Å"Well, fuck no, Stephan, he got hit by a bus.† Lily looked up from her nails for the first time. â€Å"I meant Charlie.† Stephan winked, despite her harsh tone. â€Å"Oh, he’s Charlie.† â€Å"How’s the baby?† â€Å"Evidently she leaks noxious substances.† Lily waved the Magic Marker under her nose as if it might mask the smell of ripened baby. â€Å"All good, then,† Stephan smiled. â€Å"That’s it for today. You got anything for me?† â€Å"I took in some red vinyl platforms yesterday. Men’s size ten.† Stephan collected vintage seventies pimp wear. Lily was to be on the lookout for anything that came through the shop. â€Å"How tall?† â€Å"Four inches.† â€Å"Low altitude,† Stephan said, as if that explained everything. â€Å"Take care, Darque.† Lily waved her Magic Marker at him as he left, and started sorting through the mail. There were mostly bills, a couple of flyers, but one thick black envelope that felt like a book or catalog. It was addressed to Charlie Asher â€Å"in care of† Asher’s Secondhand and had a postmark from Night’s Plutonian Shore, which evidently was in whatever state started with a U. (Lily found geography not only mind-numbingly boring, but also, in the age of the Internet, irrelevant.) Was it not addressed to the care of Asher’s Secondhand? Lily reasoned. And was she, Lily Darquewillow Elventhing, not manning the counter, the sole employee – nay – the de facto manager, of said secondhand store? And wasn’t it her right – nay – her responsibility to open this envelope and spare Charlie the irritation of the task? Onward, Elventhing! Your destiny is set, and if it be not destiny, then surely there is plausible deniability, which in the parlance of politics is the same thing. She drew a jewel-encrusted dagger from under the counter (the stones valued at over seventy-three cents) and slit the envelope, pulled out the book, and fell in love. The cover was shiny, like a children’s picture book, with a colorful illustration of a grinning skeleton with tiny people impaled on his fingertips, and all of them appeared to be having the time of their lives, as if they were enjoying a carnival ride that just happened to involve having a gaping hole being punched through the chest. It was festive – lots of flowers and candy in primary colors, done in the style of Mexican folk art. The Great Big Book of Death, was the title, spelled out across the top of the cover in cheerful, human femur font letters. Lily opened the book to the first page, where a note was paper-clipped. This should explain everything. I’m sorry. – MF Lily removed the note and opened the book to the first chapter: â€Å"So Now You’re Death: Here’s What You’ll Need.† And it was all she needed. This was, very possibly, the coolest book she had ever seen. And certainly not anything Charlie would be able to appreciate, especially in his current state of heightened neurosis. She slipped the book into her backpack, then tore the note and the envelope into tiny pieces and buried them at the bottom of the wastebasket. How to cite A Dirty Job Chapter 3, Essay examples

Salt Water Intrusion free essay sample

Salt Water Intrusion and Salination By: Ryan Tallman University of Phoenix 2009 In this modern world we are faced with many different issues. Sometimes we forget that the majority of our earth is covered in oceans and freshwater. Almost two thirds of the world’s population lives within 250 miles of an ocean coastline. One of the many issues we are facing in our waters is saltwater intrusion and salinization. Saltwater intrusion and salinization is defined as the increase of chloride ion concentrations in freshwater aquifers or more simply put the movement of saline water into freshwater aquifers. When fresh water is withdrawn at a faster rate than it can be replenished, as a result the water table is drawn down. This also reduces the hydrostatic pressure. When this happens near an ocean coastal area, salt water from the ocean is pulled into the aquifer resulting in saltwater intrusion. This occurs more often along our coastlines, though there have been cases of this occurrence inland. We will write a custom essay sample on Salt Water Intrusion or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Saltwater intrusion can be caused by many different actions, some natural and some that are caused by human activities. The natural causes of saltwater intrusion are seen as storm surges that are caused by hurricanes and other tropical storms. This was seen in 2005 when Hurricanes Katrina and Rita hit land along the Gulf Coast of the United States. Tidal flushing removed some of the introduced salinity in the freshwater marshes before substantial damage was done. However in the areas where tidal flushing was not an option and where precipitation was not able to flush the salt water from the water table, there was considerable damage to the freshwater systems. Some human causes result from human activities like construction of navigation channels or oil field canals. These channels and canals provide conduits for salt water from the Gulf of Mexico to reach deep into inland marshes. Saltwater intrusion can be detrimental to these marshes because water with high salt concentrations can severely affect vegetation in the marsh. When water that is high in saline enters an area that normally has little to no saline, most or the entirety of the plant life native to that area will be destroyed. Because plant root systems are essential in holding the marsh soil together, the loss of that plant life will eventually lead to rapid erosion. You will start seeing that what was once a wetland will soon become open water. Once saltwater intrusion has occurred, it is almost impossible to reverse, making this a significant threat to freshwater resources. Mitigation strategies have been implicated to slow down or stop the rate of saltwater intrusion. These processes can be costly but they are necessary to protect our resources from further damage. The increase of the use of groundwater has caused the salt-water to move inland and closer to the ground surface along much of the Atlantic Coast of the United States, as well as Southern California. In the past, many communities in these areas who came across saltwater intrusion problems set up new wells further inland. However this seemed to only further complicate the issue. Since then, efforts to maintain groundwater levels by using river water to recharge the groundwater tables have been successfully implemented. Some communities are setting up committees and holding conferences to discuss this threat. These conferences are designed to bring together scientists, engineers, water resource managers, and policy makers who are actively involved in or have been affected by salt water intrusion, management of coastal aquifers, and submarine groundwater discharge. This includes those studying the marine environment as well as those from the terrestrial side. Participants from academic fields, private consulting firms, local, state, and national government agencies will interact in an informal and relaxed environment to summarize and review state-of-the-art methods for investigating salt water intrusion. Like before mentioned in the paper the challenges we face most are the man-made issues as well as the natural causes that are not prevented. We have to attend these meeting and if there are not any committees in your town and this is a problem then take it to you city council and start a committee. There need to be precaution taken when doing construction in sensitive areas and the more preventative actions that are taken now will protect us more in the future.