2009最新版公共基础知识 在线下载 pdf mobi 2025 epub 电子版

《2010最新版内蒙古自治区申论(教材本)》具有以下特点：一、是针对性：本复习用书针对应试者最关心的问题，从试题题型、测试重点、复习策略、应答技巧、模拟实例等各个方面做了介绍。二、是实践性：本复习用书的作者很有经验，有的多年从事录用考试研究，有的多年做过考试辅导，有的是考试成功者。本复习用书的内容紧密联系考试实际，非常典型，有代表性，广大考生读时会有逼真、实战的感觉。

三、是系统性：本复习用书针对录用考试的特点，从笔试的总体要求到《行政职业能力测验》、《申论》；从面试的结构到面方试题、结构化面试方面、考官打分；从试题分析到应答技巧、模拟演练等各个方面进行了系统的介绍。

四、是实用性：本复习用书充分考虑到考生朋友学习、工作很忙的特点，在内容选择上突出了重点、要点，在编排形式上有提示、例题解析和模拟题，特别精心命制了高分突破金卷，有利于应试者高效备考。

暂无相关目录，正在全力查找中！

暂无相关内容，正在全力查找中

暂无出版社相关信息，正在全力查找中！

暂无相关书籍摘录，正在全力查找中！

在线阅读地址：2009最新版公共基础知识在线阅读

在线听书地址：2009最新版公共基础知识在线收听

在线购买地址：2009最新版公共基础知识在线购买

暂无原文赏析，正在全力查找中！

书籍介绍

《2010最新版内蒙古自治区申论(教材本)》具有以下特点：一、是针对性：本复习用书针对应试者最关心的问题，从试题题型、测试重点、复习策略、应答技巧、模拟实例等各个方面做了介绍。二、是实践性：本复习用书的作者很有经验，有的多年从事录用考试研究，有的多年做过考试辅导，有的是考试成功者。本复习用书的内容紧密联系考试实际，非常典型，有代表性，广大考生读时会有逼真、实战的感觉。

三、是系统性：本复习用书针对录用考试的特点，从笔试的总体要求到《行政职业能力测验》、《申论》；从面试的结构到面方试题、结构化面试方面、考官打分；从试题分析到应答技巧、模拟演练等各个方面进行了系统的介绍。

四、是实用性：本复习用书充分考虑到考生朋友学习、工作很忙的特点，在内容选择上突出了重点、要点，在编排形式上有提示、例题解析和模拟题，特别精心命制了高分突破金卷，有利于应试者高效备考。

• 作者：田野 发布时间：2012-12-15 21:02:53

  门门都是学问、记不住，以后买本作为备用工具书。

• 作者：潇潇清秋暮雨 发布时间：2023-05-16 10:52:43

  行测试卷的资料分析题主要测查考生对各种形式的文字、图表等资料的综合理解与分析加工能力，内容通常由统计性的图表、数字及文字材料构成，4段资料共有20题，根据资料所提供的信息进行分析、比较、推测和计算，从四个备选答案中选出符合题意的答案，虽然时间紧张但也要保持80%以上的正确率才行。

• 作者：妙脆角 发布时间：2021-10-17 17:03:33

  确实很基本，适合教师。

• 作者：鬼武者 发布时间：2022-10-17 23:01:30

  练习法，感觉要是真能练起来，还是有用的。

• 作者：云上是風 发布时间：2022-04-09 20:56:21

  补标童年回忆

• 作者：creep 发布时间：2023-11-04 17:09:55

  服了，突然出现一个新名词，上下文一点解释也不给，要怎么学呢

• But only God can make a tree

  作者：照叶 发布时间：2020-11-06 20:15:23

  这里有可以与《冰与火之歌》里红毒蛇大战魔山、《哈利波特》的魁地奇大赛和《黄金罗盘》的披甲熊决斗相媲美的有声书中最扣人心弦的对战场景 —— 而这是真实的八人单桨有舵手，一个在当今各种职业联赛风行全球的时代被大多数人冷落的运动。有声书的制作并非无懈可击，但我给它五星，因为Edward Herrmann的朗读成功地将作者的文字化为图像，将我带回童年时守在收音机前聆听女排比赛的激动时刻，更准确地说，是复活了那一时刻。

  但是这里有的又不只是比赛，一个好的运动故事绝不仅仅局限于那决定胜负的几分几秒。

  

  几条线索同时在这部非虚构小说里展开：一个穷孩子在艰难时世中如何生存下来并且重拾信任；两支西部大学队之间的恩怨情仇；纳粹德国如何利用一次奥运盛会成功地欺骗了世界。

  主人公Joe Rantz，四岁丧母，随后数次被生父及后母抛弃，十岁的时候靠给学校准备取暖的柴火、帮食堂送餐换食宿。十五岁的时候父母又一次当着他的面开车离去，

  Joe’s stomach lurched. Finally he sputtered, “But can’t I just come along?”

  “No. That won’t work. Look, Son, if there’s one thing I’ve figured out about life, it’s that if you want to be happy, you have to learn how to be happy on your own.”

  但他一直在努力回家。他做小工、伐木、贩卖偷来的私酒、鱼，不但活了下来，还凭优秀的成绩申请上了西雅图（无人知晓的十八线城市）的华盛顿大学。开学后通过十里挑一的选拔进了校划艇队，可那年头没有奖学金，他得边读书边训练边挣钱糊口和交学费。这个身高接近一米九的大小伙子永远吃不饱。在食堂里吃完自己的一份，他还要向旁边的人要他们的盘中剩饭来吃；一群势利的同学围在他背后拿他当笑话，等他发觉的时候，涨红了脸，他埋下头继续“像在谷仓里叉干草一样”将食物大口大口地叉进嘴里。

  He was hungry nearly all the time, and he wasn’t about to walk away from perfectly good food because of a bunch of jackasses in jerseys. He’d dug too many ditches, cut down too many cottonwoods, foraged in the cold, wet woods for too many berries and mushrooms.

  即使同在西雅图，即使他因为赛艇多少成了名人，他的父母从未联系过他。他和女友找上门去，却仍被后母拒之门外。直到后母病逝，他才被父亲接纳。

  女友Joyce替他委屈得不得了：“Joe，你为什么不生气？”

  

  事实上，奥运赛艇金牌在美国算不得稀罕。华盛顿的老对头加州伯克利曾在28、32年两夺八人单桨有舵手的金牌。让这个故事稀罕的，是那个萧条持续与纳粹兴盛的时代背景。

  Joe的父亲是个充满梦想的、能干的机械师，生母是钢琴教师，后母是颇有才华的小提琴手，家里曾经洋溢着歌声与琴声。然而随着流水线的普及，梦想家变成了廉价劳工，火灾与千里之外的股市崩盘又迫使Harry一次次丢弃亲手建造的家。Thula整日忙于家务，累得背都直不起来，孩子倒是添了一个又一个；粗糙而单调的生活让这个精致女子看不到一点希望。

  Joe的队友大都来自相似的家庭：农民、渔夫、伐木工人、矿工。跟东部的哈佛、耶鲁、普林斯顿这些“老钱”比，他们是西部的“没钱”。当教练在他们刚刚赢得奥运资格的第二天得知必须在周末之前筹到去柏林的路费的时候，他甚至没敢告诉他们（“宾大有钱，随时可以替你们去”）。于是他们懵懵懂懂继续训练，而西雅图以及这些穷孩子的家乡全民总动员，两天后便将五千美元的支票放在了美国奥运赛艇协会主席的桌上。

  

  与在风暴和沙尘中苦苦挣扎的美国相比，1936年主办奥运的纳粹德国俨然一派欣欣向荣的景象：精心规划的城市整洁高效，纳粹旗帜四处飘扬；吉普赛人和无家可归者被关进了拘留营，反犹的报刊和标语从街头消失了；居民们被特别指导该如何热情又有礼貌地和外国人打交道；冲锋队、党卫军、青少年团、千千万万普通德国人心手合一地行纳粹举手礼、高呼“天佑希特勒”；庄严圣洁的奥运点火仪式让所有人屏住呼吸（你知道吗？“奥运圣火传递”就是戈培尔的宣传部想出来的点子）；天才的Leni Riefenstahl 发明了各种机位展现雅利安人种的美丽、高贵和雄健—— 难怪某位美国奥运代表出此感言

  As for this man Hitler. . . . Well I believe we should all like to take him back to America with us and have him organize there just as he has done in Germany.”

  

  除了赛艇中的9个男孩，书中还有一位幕后英雄，英国人George Pocock。他出身制艇世家，父亲原本为伊顿制艇，因为“对雇主态度太随便”丢了工作，他和哥哥只好去温哥华碰运气，在事故中丢了两根手指后他被华盛顿的创队教练邀请到了西雅图。最终George不仅成为了全世界最好的制艇者，还是一位对赛艇运动具有最深刻理解的大师。本书的每一个章节都以他的一句箴言开头。

  以下是他教导Joe的完整的一节。从中不仅可以了解Pocock的哲学，亦可体会到作者充满诗意的文字之美。

  On a bright, crisp September morning, as Pocock started up the steps to his loft in the shell house, he noticed Joe doing sit-ups on a bench at the back of the room. He motioned Joe to come over, said he’d noticed him peering up into the shop occasionally, and asked him if he’d like to look around. Joe all but bounded up the stairs.

  The loft was bright and airy, with morning light pouring in from two large windows in the back wall. The air was thick with the sweet-sharp scent of marine varnish. Drifts of sawdust and curls of wood shavings lay on the floor. A long I beam stretched nearly the full length of the loft, and on it lay the framework of an eight-oared shell under construction.

  Pocock started off by explaining the various tools he used. He showed Joe wood planes, their wooden handles burnished by decades of use, their blades so sharp and precise they could shave off curls of wood as thin and transparent as tissue paper. He handed him different old rasps and augers and chisels and files and mallets he’d brought over from England. Some of them, he said, were a century old. He explained how each kind of tool had many variations, how each file, for instance, was subtly different from another, how each served a different function but all were indispensable in the making of a fine shell. He guided Joe to a lumber rack and pulled out samples of the different woods he used—soft, malleable sugar pine, hard yellow spruce, fragrant cedar, and clear white ash. He held each piece up and inspected it,turning it over and over in his hands, and talked about the unique properties of each and how it took all of them contributing their individual qualities to make a shell that would come to life in the water. He pulled a long cedar plank from a rack and pointed out the annual growth rings. Joe already knew a good deal about the qualities of cedar and about growth rings from his time splitting shakes with Charlie McDonald, but he was drawn in as Pocock began to talk about what they meant to him.

  Joe crouched next to the older man and studied the wood and listened intently. Pocock said the rings told more than a tree’s age; they told the whole story of the tree’s life over as much as two thousand years. Their thickness and thinness spoke of hard years of bitter struggle intermingled with rich years of sudden growth. The different colors spoke of the various soils and minerals that the tree’s roots encountered, some harsh and stunting, some rich and nourishing. Flaws and irregularities told how the trees endured fires and lightning strikes and windstorms and infestations and yet continued to grow.

  As Pocock talked, Joe grew mesmerized. It wasn’t just what the Englishman was saying, or the soft, earthy cadence of his voice, it was the calm reverence with which he talked about the wood—as if there was something holy and sacred about it—that drew Joe in. The wood, Pocock murmured, taught us about survival, about overcoming difficulty, about prevailing over adversity, but it also taught us something about the underlying reason for surviving in the first place. Something about infinite beauty, about undying grace, about things larger and greater than ourselves. About the reasons we were all here.

  “Sure, I can make a boat,” he said, and then added, quoting the poet Joyce Kilmer, “‘But only God can make a tree.’”

  Pocock pulled out a thin sheet of cedar, one that had been milled down to three-eighths of an inch for the skin of a shell. He flexed the wood and had Joe do the same. He talked about camber and the life it imparted to a shell when wood was put under tension. He talked about the underlying strength of the individual fibers in cedar and how, coupled with their resilience, they gave the wood its ability to bounce back and resume its shape, whole and intact, or how, under steam and pressure, they could take a new form and hold it forever. The ability to yield, to bend, to give way, to accommodate, he said, was sometimes a source of strength in men as well as in wood, so long as it was helmed by inner resolve and by principle.

  He took Joe to one end of the long beam on which he was constructing the frame for a new shell. Pocock sighted along the pine keel and invited Joe to do the same. It had to be precisely straight, he said, for the whole sixty-two-foot length of the boat, not a centimeter of variance from one end to the other or the boat would never run true. And in the end that trueness could only come from its builder, from the care with which he exercised his craft, from the amount of heart he put into it.

  Pocock paused and stepped back from the frame of the shell and put his hands on his hips, carefully studying the work he had so far done. He said for him the craft of building a boat was like religion. It wasn’t enough to master the technical details of it. You had to give yourself up to it spiritually; you had to surrender yourself absolutely to it. When you were done and walked away from the boat, you had to feel that you had left a piece of yourself behind in it forever, a bit of your heart. He turned to Joe. “Rowing,” he said, “is like that. And a lot of life is like that too, the parts that really matter anyway. Do you know what I mean, Joe?” Joe, a bit nervous, not at all certain that he did, nodded tentatively, went back downstairs, and resumed his sit-ups, trying to work it out.

  Joe的经历无疑印证了Pocock阐释的哲理。从照片上看，这是个典型的金发阳光少年，一抹腼腆的笑容永远定格在他脸上。但他需要经历从西雅图到奥克兰，到纽约、到普林斯顿，一直到柏林的三年，才最终从赛艇这项比个人“更宏伟更重大”的集体运动中找回了信任，找到了他可以全心依托的伙伴，从而实现了“不可能的成就”。

  八十多年前的美国又是如何走出它的困境的？作者没有明言。不过他描绘了Franklin D. Roosevelt总统在大库利大坝（Grand Coulee Dam ）开工前特意赶到华盛顿州的Ephrata小镇发表讲话的情景。在作者笔下，包括Pocock在内的现场两万名听众

  Many of them would never forget the day. For them, it was a dawning, the first real hint of hope. If there was little they could do individually to turn the situation around, perhaps there was something they could do collectively. Perhaps the seeds of redemption lay not just in perseverance, hard work, and rugged individualism. Perhaps they lay in something more fundamental—the simple notion of everyone pitching in and pulling together.

  

  在风雨飘摇的2020年听这个众志成城的故事或许再合适不过了。但我总觉得有点不安。特别是当我听到Pocock的这句话的时候：

  Where is the spiritual value of rowing? . . . The losing of self entirely to the cooperative effort of the crew as a whole.

  我的问题是：如果Joe和他的伙伴们不幸出生在纳粹德国，他们也会全身心地投入到集体“事业”中去吗？

  “so long as it was helmed by inner resolve and by principle.”如果他们从小被灌输的原则就是错误的呢？

  那些德国和意大利的赛艇运动员后来怎么样了？

  A gentle autumn breeze tousled their mostly fair hair. Their eyes shone with zeal, illuminated by trust. Their faces were so full of grace, so free of blemish, so perfect, that even today, even in the old black-and-white film, you can almost see the pink blush of their cheeks. And yet many of these were the faces of young men who would someday pull sobbing children from their mothers’ arms and herd them into gas chambers; who would order Polish women to strip naked, line them up at the edge of trenches, and shoot them in the back; who would lock all the women and children of the French town of Oradour-sur-Glane in a barn and set it on fire.

  ...

  A little less than ten years in the future, in the last few desperate days of the Third Reich, scores of Hitler Youth—boys as young as ten or eleven—would crouch below the bell tower among blocks of fine Franconian limestone, the rubble of thebuildings now being erected, shooting at advancing Russian boys, many of them not a great deal older than they. And in those last few days, as Berlin burned all around them, some of those German boys—those who cried or refused to shoot or tried to surrender—would be lined up against these limestone slabs by their officers and shot.

  与之对比，书中有这样一个小细节，在奥运决赛当天

  The German boys and the Italian boys were already in their boats. The Italians were wearing silky light blue uniforms, and they had tied white bandanas rakishly around their heads, pirate-style. The Germans were resplendent in white shorts and crisp white jerseys, each emblazoned with a black eagle and swastika. The American boys were wearing mismatched track shorts and tattered old sweatshirts. They didn’t want to get their new uniforms dirty.

  这毕竟是一个属于美国人的故事。

  

• 更爱，更恨，更痛苦

  作者：瘦竹 发布时间：2008-03-14 14:15:45

  伍尔夫在提到艾米莉·勃朗特的《呼啸山庄》时说，促使艾米莉·勃朗特创作的冲动不是她自身的痛苦和伤害，在读完《呼啸山庄》，我难于相信她这种说法。小说中那种痛彻心扉的激情，如果不是有过个人体验，凭一个人的想象力几乎是不可能达到的。

   

  一位好心的绅士从街头引回一个黑不溜秋的孩子，这个孩子长大以后爱上了这位伸士的女儿，而他的儿子则对他百般虐待。因为感觉到这外来人地位的低下，他所爱的人嫁给了别人，想以此给他赢得改变他命运的机会，但这更加伤害了那个外来人的自尊。他在他的爱人嫁给别人前神秘地失踪，几年以后，他发了财，展开了疯狂的报复，他不仅得到了那些伤害过他的人的财产，还看着他们一个个先后死去，并在他们的下一代人身上继续着他的报复，命运最终嘲弄了他，他的儿子是一个扶不起来的阿斗，整日哭哭涕涕，病怏怏的，早早死去，而他的仇人的孩子却简直是他年青时的翻版，他所爱的人和别人生的女儿成了她的儿媳，后成亡妇，他不能阻止新的爱情发生，最后在凄凉中死去。这便是艾米莉·勃朗特在她的《呼啸山庄》给我们讲述的故事。

   

  伍尔夫在比较《简爱》和《呼啸山庄》时说，《简爱》想说的只是“我爱，我恨，我痛苦”，而《呼啸山庄》超越了自我，想说的是“我们，整个人类”和“你们，外部力量”。我看不出这两部书在表达爱情方面有什么不同，如果有什么不同的话，那《呼啸山庄》表达的则是“我更爱，我更恨，我更痛苦”，这种爱、恨、痛苦已经达到了它们的极限，除了带来疯狂和毁灭之外，不会带来别的东西。对于两个疯狂地相爱的人来说，“我们，整个人类”，“你们，外部世界”又算得了什么，他们彼此就是对方的整个宇宙。

   

  “如果其他一切都死了，而他活着，我还能活下去；如果其他一切都在，而他死了，整个宇宙会变得那么陌生，我会觉得不再是它的一部分。”这样的话只要在疯狂相爱的人口中说出，我已经不太能够相信爱情会永恒，但我相信这些话是发自心底的声音，并且是流着血发出的。

   

  爱情，当它还是甜蜜的时候，它是阳光，是雨露，是糖浆。当它不再甜蜜的时候，它就是一把寒光闪闪的剑，爱的越深，就越鲜血淋漓。对于吃过爱情苦头的人，它又随时会是一副清醒剂，让他再一次陷入爱情前小心翼翼，但即使这样也不一定能阻止爱情的再一次发生，直到击碎那个人的所有关于爱情的梦幻。我不知道为了爱情死去的人有多少，但我相信大多数人活了下来，他们活了下来，直到岁月抚平他们所有的记忆。想到有一天，我们会在我们曾经所爱的人的记忆里消失，这是一件多么可怕的事。

   

  　“但愿我能抓住你不放，”她辛酸地接着说，“一直到我们两个都死掉！我不应该管你受什么苦。我才不管你的痛苦哩。你为什么不该受苦呢？我可在受呀！你会忘掉我吗？等我埋在土里的时候，你会快乐吗？二十年后你会不会说，‘那是凯瑟琳·恩萧的坟。很久以前我爱过她，而且为了失去她而难过；可是这都过去了。那以后我又爱过好多人：我的孩子对于我可比她要亲多了；而且，到了死的时候，我不会因为我要去她那儿就高兴：我会很难过，因为我得离开他们了！’你会不会这么说呢，希刺克厉夫？”

   

  但只要活下去，就得应付各种各样的事，直到那些纷杂的记忆慢慢淹没最初的记忆，直到老去，直到生命归于平淡，直到对这个世界无欲无求。能象希刺克厉夫那样靠回忆和复仇活着真是一件太奢侈的事。

   

  艾米莉·勃朗特活了仅仅三十岁，我不了解她的身世，但我想她是被激情和绝望烧掉的，这对于她，也许是一件幸福的事。