Subjective Performance Measurement Multi-Case Study Based...

SUBJECTIVE PERFORMANCE MEASUREMENT: MULTI-CASE STUDY BASED ON CHINESE CORPORATIONS Gao Chen and Tang Guliang Business School, Beijing Technology and Business University, China and Business School, University of International Business and Economics, China Abstract Subjective performance measurement is a new hotspot in recent year western management accounting and motivation theory study. However, until now, there has been little research regarding the application of this theory in China. In order to bridge this research gap, this paper provides five propositions and four in-depth case studies in Chinese corporations. By the comparison of the application of subjective performance measures in China Minsheng Banking Corporation(CMBC), China†¦show more content†¦Theory and research proposition The definition of the subjective performance measure The subjective performance measure is a concept which is brought out compared to the objective performance measure. The objective performance measure refers to a measure method which compares the actual performance with the set performance goal based on some measures and formulas. Objective measures can be applied to legal contracts, because they are totally observable and testable. On the contrary, subjective measure is based on the person’s judgments or subjective measure method based on subjective indications. Being different from objective measures, subjective measures can’t be tested by other people, usually is only observable to the superiors. Besides that, subjective performance measure is used due to some uncertain factors and unexpected accidents. It has many forms, includes subjective determined weight, evaluation system contains some subjective measures and the factors decided by management based on the sit uations. Of all the forms, the subjective measure is the main one. Theoretical basis and proposition Figure 1 is the theoretical framework of this research paper. This study finds that the application of subjective performance measures in Chinese enterprises are influenced by economic factors as well as institutional factors. Economic factors, such as the nonfinancial measures, strategies andShow MoreRelatedSwots: Strategic Management and Swot Analysis10122 Words   |  41 Pagesand extension as well as to aid subsequent theory building. Methodology For the past decade from June 1, 1999 through June 30, 2009, the authors searched peer-reviewed academic research included in the database ABInform Global ® for SWOT analysis studies and articles to identity SWOTs uses, trends, and recommendations. This database includes over 3,020 publications, primarily about business conditions, management techniques, business trends, management practice and theory, corporate strategy and tacticsRead MoreSwots: Strategic Management and Swot Analysis10111 Words   |  41 Pagesand extension as well as to aid subsequent theory building. 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The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn By Mark Twain - 1051 Words

Bildungsroman â€Å"I hadn’t had a bite since yesterday, so Jim he got out some corn-dodgers and buttermilk, and pork and cabbage and greens-there ain’t nothing in the world so good when it’s cooked right- and whilst I eat my supper we talked and had a good time. We said there wasn’t no home like a raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smothery, but a raft don’t. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.† The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, was written before The Civil War, by Mark Twain (AKA) Samuel Clemens, was written in Hartford Connecticut, and Elmira New York in 1876 to 1883. Mark Twain’s writings often show life lessons being told through characters and are very involved with society and the effects that is has on certain people, like most other novels it shows morals and beliefs of the time era. Authors use many different techniques in literature to portray whatever they wish to give to the reader. Motifs are childhood lies and cons, superstitions and folk beliefs; the hypocrisy of â€Å"civilized† society. This technique is one used very frequently in this novel. Bildungsroman is a type of novel concerned with the education, development, and maturing of a young protagonist. In all novels involving a main character of a young teen it wraps around the essence of, in this case a young boy, coming of age and learning lessons in life that mature and help develop him into the man he will continue to be later in life. Huckleberry Finn might beShow MoreRelatedThe Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain830 Words   |  3 PagesThe Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain is â€Å"A Great American Novel†, because of its complexity and richness. Twain writes dialogue that brings his characters to life. He creates characters with unique voice and helps the reader connect to the book. Anyone who reads it is forced to develop feelings for each character. Even though there is a great amount of controversy over the use of some choices, such as the â€Å"n word†, it makes the book more realistic. In the beginning of the novel Huck,Read MoreThe Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn By Mark Twain1103 Words   |  5 PagesDmitri Van Duine Jr English Mr. Nelson November 27th The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn: Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Written by Mark Twain filled his stories with many examples of satire as to convey a message while also writing an interesting story. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn revolves around the adventures of a young boy called Huckleberry Finn, who is about thirteen years old. Tom Sawyer is Huck’s best friend and around the same age as Huck. He is onlyRead MoreThe Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn By Mark Twain Essay1055 Words   |  5 PagesZambrano Mrs. Patmor AP Lit-Period 5 28 September 2016 Adventures of Huckleberry Finn 1835 Mark Twain embodies realism in almost every aspect of his writing not excluding The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which in he portrays such a lifelike setting that it almost gives you this sense of reality through the point of view of a young man that has an urge for freedom yet struggles to conform to society s norms due to his adolescence. Twain s ability to unmask the true identities of the charactersRead MoreThe Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn By Mark Twain931 Words   |  4 PagesWolski Mrs. Goska English 2H Period 3 22 October 2014 The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn Mob mentality is the way an individual’s decisions become influenced by the often unprincipled actions of a crowd. Mark Twain penned The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Twain grew up in America’s southern states during the early 1800’s, a time in which moral confusion erupted within the minds of humans. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn s protagonist is a young boy named Huck who freely travels alongRead MoreThe Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn By Mark Twain1375 Words   |  6 Pagesmention the years spent growing and maturing physically. Teenagers are stuck in an inbetween state where they must learn who they want to become and what they want to be when they grow older. The same is true for Huckleberry Finn, from the book â€Å"The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn† by Mark Twain. This is a book that was written in a time of great confusion over moral codes and standards. It was a world split in half by two different worlds of people; those who opposed, a nd those who promoted slavery.Read MoreMark Twain and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn1575 Words   |  6 Pages Mark Twain and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn Controversy Mark Twain, born Samuel Langhorne Clemens, is a highly recognizable figure in American literature. Born in Florida, Missouri Mark Twain and his family moved to Hannibal, Missouri where Twain discovered and fell in love with the mighty Mississippi River. The river and his life in Hannibal became his inspiration and guiding light in most of his writing. Although Twain loved the river and did a great deal of traveling, he eventuallyRead MoreThe Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn By Mark Twain2083 Words   |  9 PagesSatire in Huckleberry Finn In the novel â€Å"The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn† by Mark Twain, we are told a story about a young boy and his slave companion’s journey down the Mississippi River and all of their encounters with other characters. Twain constructed a beautiful narrative on how young Huck Finn, the protagonist in the story, learns about the world and from other adult characters, how he is shaped into his own person. 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Mark Twain presents Huckleberry Finn as a dynamic character who at first views Jim as property and eventually considers Jim as a friend, showing a change in maturity. In the beginning of the book, Huck Finn clearly sees Jim as nothing more thanRead MoreThe Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn By Mark Twain1335 Words   |  6 Pagesyear The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is placed in the top ten banned books in America. People find the novel to be oppressing and racially insensitive due to its frequent use of the n-word and the portrayal of blacks as a Sambo caricature. However, this goes against Mark Twain’s intent of bringing awareness to the racism in America. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain is classified under the genre of satire and is narrated by a fictional character named Huckleberry Finn. The novel

Part Three Chapter II Free Essays

string(25) " mother would come back\." II ‘Wha’ d’you wan’?’ Terri Weedon’s shrunken body was dwarfed by her own doorway. She put claw-like hands on either jamb, trying to make herself more imposing, barring the entrance. It was eight in the morning; Krystal had just left with Robbie. We will write a custom essay sample on Part Three Chapter II or any similar topic only for you Order Now ‘Wanna talk ter yeh,’ said her sister. Broad and mannish in her white vest and tracksuit bottoms, Cheryl sucked on a cigarette and squinted at Terri through the smoke. ‘Nana Cath’s died,’ she said. ‘Wha’?’ ‘Nana Cath’s died,’ repeated Cheryl loudly. ‘Like you fuckin’ care.’ But Terri had heard the first time. The news had hit her so hard in the guts that she had asked to hear it again out of confusion. ‘Are you blasted?’ demanded Cheryl, glaring into the taut and empty face. ‘Fuck off. No, I ain’t.’ It was the truth. Terri had not used that morning; she had not used for three weeks. She took no pride in it; there was no star chart pinned up in the kitchen; she had managed longer than this before, months, even. Obbo had been away for the past fortnight, so it had been easier. But her works were still in the old biscuit tin, and the craving burned like an eternal flame inside her frail body. ‘She died yesterday. Danielle on’y fuckin’ bothered to lemme know this mornin’,’ said Cheryl. ‘An’ I were gonna go up the ‘ospital an’ see ‘er again today. Danielle’s after the ‘ouse. Nana Cath’s ‘ouse. Greedy bitch.’ Terri had not been inside the little terraced house on Hope Street for a long time, but when Cheryl spoke she saw, very vividly, the knick-knacks on the sideboard and the net curtains. She imagined Danielle there, pocketing things, ferreting in cupboards. ‘Funeral’s Tuesday at nine, up the crematorium.’ ‘Right,’ said Terri. ‘It’s our ‘ouse as much as Danielle’s,’ said Cheryl. ‘I’ll tell ‘er we wan’ our share. Shall I?’ ‘Yeah,’ said Terri. She watched until Cheryl’s canary hair and tattoos had vanished around the corner, then retreated inside. Nana Cath dead. They had not spoken for a long time. I’m washin’ my ‘ands of yeh. I’ve ‘ad enough, Terri, I’ve ‘ad it. She had never stopped seeing Krystal, though. Krystal had become her blue-eyed girl. She had been to watch Krystal row in her stupid boat races. She had said Krystal’s name on her deathbed, not Terri’s. Fine, then, you old bitch. Like I care. Too late now. Tight-chested and trembling, Terri moved through her stinking kitchen in search of cigarettes, but really craving the spoon, the flame and the needle. Too late, now, to say to the old lady what she ought to have said. Too late, now, to become again her Terri-Baby. Big girls don’t cry †¦ big girls don’t cry †¦ It had been years before she had realized that the song Nana Cath had sung her, in her rasping smoker’s voice, was really ‘Sherry Baby’. Terri’s hands scuttled like vermin through the debris on the work tops, searching for fag packets, ripping them apart, finding them all empty. Krystal had probably had the last of them; she was a greedy little cow, just like Danielle, riffling through Nana Cath’s possessions, trying to keep her death quiet from the rest of them. There was a long stub lying on a greasy plate; Terri wiped it off on her T-shirt and lit it on the gas cooker. Inside her head, she heard her own eleven-year-old voice. I wish you was my mummy. She did not want to remember. She leaned up against the sink, smoking, trying to look forward, to imagine the clash that was coming between her two older sisters. Nobody messed with Cheryl and Shane: they were both handy with their fists, and Shane had put burning rags through some poor bastard’s letter box not so long ago; it was why he’d done his last stretch, and he would still be inside if the house had not been empty at the time. But Danielle had weapons Cheryl did not: money and her own home, and a landline. She knew official people and how to talk to them. She was the kind that had spare keys, and mysterious bits of paperwork. Yet Terri doubted that Danielle would get the house, even with her secret weapons. There were more than just the three of them; Nana Cath had had loads of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. After Terri had been taken into care, her father had had more kids. Nine in total, Cheryl reckoned, to five different mothers. Terri had never met her half-siblings, but Krystal had told her that Nana Cath saw them. ‘Yeah?’ she had retorted. ‘I hope they rob her blind, the stupid old bitch.’ So she saw the rest of the family, but they weren’t exactly angels, from all that Terri had heard. It was only she, who had once been Terri-Baby, whom Nana Cath had cut adrift for ever. When you were straight, evil thoughts and memories came pouring up out of the darkness inside you; buzzing black flies clinging to the insides of your skull. I wish you was my mummy. In the vest top that Terri was wearing today, her scarred arm, neck and upper back were fully exposed, swirled into unnatural folds and creases like melted ice cream. She had spent six weeks in the burns unit of South West General when she was eleven. (‘How did it happen, love?’ asked the mother of the child in the next bed. Her father had thrown a pan of burning chip fat at her. Her Human League T-shirt had caught fire. †Naccident,’ Terri muttered. It was what she had told everyone, including the social worker and the nurses. She would no sooner have shopped her father than chosen to burn alive. Her mother had walked out shortly after Terri’s eleventh birthday, leaving all three daughters behind. Danielle and Cheryl had moved in with their boyfriends’ families within days. Terri had been the only one left, trying to make chips for her father, clinging to the hope that her mother would come back. You read "Part Three Chapter II" in category "Essay examples" Even through the agony and the terror of those first days and nights in the hospital, she had been glad it had happened, because she was sure that her mum would hear about it and come and get her. Every time there was movement at the end of the ward, Terri’s heart would leap. But in six long weeks of pain and loneliness, the only visitor had been Nana Cath. Through quiet afternoons and evenings, Nana Cath had come to sit beside her granddaughter, reminding her to say thank you to the nurses, grim-faced and strict, yet leaking unexpected tenderness. She brought Terri a cheap plastic doll in a shiny black mac, but when Terri undressed her, she had nothing on underneath. ‘She’s got no knickers, Nana.’ And Nana Cath had giggled. Nana Cath never giggled. I wish you was my mummy. She had wanted Nana Cath to take her home. She had asked her to, and Nana Cath had agreed. Sometimes Terri thought that those weeks in hospital had been the happiest of her life, even with the pain. It had been so safe, and people had been kind to her and looked after her. She had thought that she was going home with Nana Cath, to the house with the pretty net curtains, and not back to her father; not back to the bedroom door flying open in the night, banging off the David Essex poster Cheryl had left behind, and her father with his hand on his fly, approaching the bed where she begged him not to †¦ ) The adult Terri threw the smoking filter of the cigarette stub down onto the kitchen floor and strode to her front door. She needed more than nicotine. Down the path and along the street she marched, walking in the same direction as Cheryl. Out of the corner of her eye she saw them, two of her neighbours chatting on the pavement, watching her go by. Like a fucking picture? It’ll last longer. Terri knew that she was a perennial subject of gossip; she knew what they said about her; they shouted it after her sometimes. The stuck-up bitch next door was forever whining to the council about the state of Terri’s garden. Fuck them, fuck them, fuck them †¦ She was jogging along, trying to outrun the memories. You don’t even know who the father is, do yeh, yer whore? I’m washin’ my ‘ands of yeh, Terri, I’ve ‘ad enough. That had been the last time they had ever spoken, and Nana Cath had called her what everyone else called her, and Terri had responded in kind. Fuck you, then, you miserable old cow, fuck you. She had never said, ‘You let me down, Nana Cath.’ She had never said, ‘Why didn’t you keep me?’ She had never said, ‘I loved you more than anyone, Nana Cath.’ She hoped to God Obbo was back. He was supposed to be back today; today or tomorrow. She had to have some. She had to. ‘All righ’, Terri?’ ‘Seen Obbo?’ she asked the boy who was smoking and drinking on the wall outside the off licence. The scars on her back felt as though they were burning again. He shook his head, chewing, leering at her. She hurried on. Nagging thoughts of the social worker, of Krystal, of Robbie: more buzzing flies, but they were like the staring neighbours, judges all; they did not understand the terrible urgency of her need. (Nana Cath had collected her from the hospital and taken her home to the spare room. It had been the cleanest, prettiest room Terri had ever slept in. On each of the three evenings she had spent there, she had sat up in bed after Nana Cath had kissed her goodnight, and rearranged the ornaments beside her on the windowsill. There had been a tinkling bunch of glass flowers in a glass vase, a plastic pink paperweight with a shell in it and Terri’s favourite, a rearing pottery horse with a silly smile on its face. ‘I like horses,’ she had told Nana Cath. There had been a school trip to the agricultural show, in the days before Terri’s mother had left. The class had met a gigantic black Shire covered in horse brasses. She was the only one brave enough to stroke it. The smell had intoxicated her. She had hugged its column of a leg, ending in the massive feathered white hoof, and felt the living flesh beneath the hair, while her teacher said, ‘Careful, Terri, careful!’ and the old man with the horse had smiled at her and told her it was quite safe, Samson wouldn’t hurt a nice little girl like her. The pottery horse was a different colour: yellow with a black mane and tail. ‘You can ‘ave it,’ Nana Cath told her, and Terri had known true ecstasy. But on the fourth morning her father had arrived. ‘You’re comin’ home,’ he had said, and the look on his face had terrified her. ‘You’re not stayin’ with that fuckin’ grassin’ old cow. No, you ain’t. No, you ain’t, you little bitch.’ Nana Cath was as frightened as Terri. ‘Mikey, no,’ she kept bleating. Some of the neighbours were peering through the windows. Nana Cath had Terri by one arm, and her father had the other. ‘You’re coming home with me!’ He blacked Nana Cath’s eye. He dragged Terri into his car. When he got her back to the house, he beat and kicked every bit of her he could reach.) ‘Seen Obbo?’ Terri shouted at Obbo’s neighbour, from fifty yards away. ‘Is ‘e back?’ ‘I dunno,’ said the woman, turning away. (When Michael was not beating Terri, he was doing the other things to her, the things she could not talk about. Nana Cath did not come any more. Terri ran away at thirteen, but not to Nana Cath’s; she did not want her father to find her. They caught her anyway, and put her into care.) Terri thumped on Obbo’s door and waited. She tried again, but nobody came. She sank onto the doorstep, shaking and began to cry. Two truanting Winterdown girls glanced at her as they passed. ‘Tha’s Krystal Weedon’s mum,’ one of them said loudly. ‘The prozzie?’ the other replied at the top of her voice. Terri could not muster the strength to swear at them, because she was crying so hard. Snorting and giggling, the girls strode out of sight. ‘Whore!’ one of them called back from the end of the street. How to cite Part Three Chapter II, Essay examples