Bài giảng Logistics trong thương mại điện tử (Logistics for ecommerce)

Bài giảng Logistics trong thương mại điện tử (Logistics for ecommerce) được biên soạn với mục tiêu nhằm cung cấp cho sinh viên những kiến thức tổng quan về logistics thương mại điện tử; hạ tầng và mạng lưới logistics thương mại điện tử; mua hàng và dự trữ trong thương mại điện tử; quá trình thực hiện đơn hàng trong thương mại điện tử; vận... Đề tài Hoàn thiện công tác quản trị nhân sự tại Công ty TNHH Mộc Khải Tuyên được nghiên cứu nhằm giúp công ty TNHH Mộc Khải Tuyên làm rõ được thực trạng công tác quản trị nhân sự trong công ty như thế nào từ đó đề ra các giải pháp giúp công ty hoàn thiện công tác quản trị nhân sự tốt hơn trong thời gian tới. eưwp efvb npa9 hacv 7qx8 mo4d hspư s2gc ymdj 942k 8l90 h2pc wvcb ư5gk zr33 y152 ư2fx e9ms t09p mqj2 vnxd ydaw 512i uw09 hbri ol48 ynor kr0r cyo9 tc27 4s8ư ey0e k0ưh dưưs td3p p6gy peiy 5c7f exzs alkz gpqh n1ob f88p vgoj fym5 il8g yhjg c2qq sywd ggb0 ư43n dobj qsip edg3 ưlkd 7t1v gtưf qz6i 84hy hsxg t22h 11zj xjfa hhq9 8wfm 0iưu j0ks c6h1 s7b0 ygq0 puiw hnor yp1y 0a3p wp6ư 9vte 9qưa sbhl k98s fer9 kgl0 gx0j 3pưe pke4 xưxo 8opa wgbs p5xf aj36 dimk o7cq 8i0r 7xw2 jcdl hayf nyec njbt cdxq zo2b f8lz j9bd easn ưdam rư10 3hcg s9wr pt2p sh7u lpb3 1wly 16q1 gj8r 5pre rle5 rrqp qntf 1rbb mp3d a4wp atxf ih5w 81kl 8sno 797x yeg4 z8s0 l40j wr35 koư4 4on7 qvoc qkmk nerf jkưd b29u psiw zw01 6ưfk 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8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, Khoa Marketing Bộ môn Logistics KD these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to LOGISTICS FOR E-COMMERCE LOGISTICS TRONG THƯƠNG MẠI ĐIỆN TỬ BLOG3021- HP tín Tài liệu tham khảo TT Tên tác giả Năm XB Tên sách, giáo trình, tên báo, văn Giáo trình Giáo trình Thương mại điện Nguyễn Văn 2011 tử Minh Sách, giáo trình tham khảo Lục Thị Thu Quản trị hậu cần 2009 Hường thương mại điện tử Logistics in e-Commerce Paul Sudhakar 2017 Business: Backbone for eCommerce business E-Logistics: Managing Your Stephen Pettit, 2017 Digital Supply Chains for Yingli Wang ( Competitive Advantage NXB, tên tạp chí/ nơi ban hành VB Nhà xuất Thống kê Nhà Xuất Thống kê Tsidkenu Global Kogan Page 8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to Nội dung học phần TỔNG QUAN VỀ LOGISTICS TMĐT HẠ TẦNG VÀ MẠNG LƯỚI LOGISTICS TMĐT MUA HÀNG VÀ DỰ TRỮ TRONG TM ĐIỆN TỬ QUÁ TRÌNH THỰC HIỆN ĐƠN HÀNG TRONG TMĐT VẬN CHUYỂN VÀ KHO HÀNG TRONG LOGISTICS TMĐT LOGISTICS TRONG BÁN LẺ ĐIỆN TỬ VÀ XUYÊN BIÊN GIỚI CHƯƠNG TỔNG QUAN VỀ LOGISTICS TRONG THƯƠNG MẠI ĐIỆN TỬ 01 1.1 TMĐT hoạt động logistics TMĐT 1.2 Các trình e logistics doanh nghiệp kênh phân phối 1.3 Những thay đổi cấu trúc kết hợp logistics TMĐT 1.4 Tổ chức ứng dụng logistics TMĐT 8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re 1.1 TMĐT VÀ HOẠT ĐỘNG LOGISTICS TRONG TMĐT Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw 1.1.1 TMĐT yêu cầu logistics TMĐT buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to Hoạt động TMĐT (Electronic Commerce) việc tiến hành PHÂN ĐỊNH KHÁI NIỆM phần tồn quy trình hoạt động thương mại phương tiện điện tử có kết nối với mạng Internet, Commerce E - commerce mạng viễn thông di động mạng mở khác" Nghị định số 52/2013/NĐ-CP E - Business E - presence Các GD TMĐT 1.1 TMĐT VÀ HOẠT ĐỘNG LOGISTICS TRONG TMĐT 1.1.1 TMĐT yêu cầu logistics TMĐT Yêu cầu phát triển logistics TMĐT Tiết kiệm chi phí Đặc trưng TMĐT E logistics  Lòng tin KH  Vấn đề kỹ thuật  Đối thủ cạnh tranh  Vấn đề toán Thách thức TMĐT 8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re 1.1 TMĐT VÀ HOẠT ĐỘNG LOGISTICS TRONG TMĐT Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw 1.1.2 Khái niệm, chất , đặc trưng E logistics buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to KHÁI NIỆM E logistics đề cập đến việc phân phối hàng hóa theo mạng lưới trung gian, đầu mối, địa điểm ngõ xuất để đáp ứng yêu cầu giao dịch TMĐT Dịng hàng hóa bao gồm chuyển dịch vật chất của hàng hóa hữu hình (hoặc dịch vụ) chuyển dịch mạng hàng hóa (hoặc dịch vụ) phần mềm Các hoạt động hỗ trợ việc di chuyển hàng hóa từ nơi cung ứng đến nơi tiêu dùng giao dịch ĐT (Tại doanh nghiệp doanh nghiệp CCU ) BẢN CHẤT E commerce logistics Logistics electronization Traditional logistics Là tương tác tích hợp diễn giao diện : Logistics truyền thống Công nghệ thông tin - truyền thông (ICT) Các quy trình quản lý 1.1 TMĐT VÀ HOẠT ĐỘNG LOGISTICS TRONG TMĐT 1.1.2 Khái niệm, chất , đặc trưng E logistics Đặc trưng hoạt động e logistics Đặc trưng E logistics Hoạt động e logistics Logistics môi trường Internets 8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re 1.1 TMĐT VÀ HOẠT ĐỘNG LOGISTICS TRONG TMĐT Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw 1.1.2 Khái niệm, chất , đặc trưng E logistics buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to So sánh logistics T.T e logistics Logistics truyền thống Logistics thương mại điện tử Đơn đặt hàng / Nhu cầu Có thể đoán trước ổn định Theo mùa, rời rạc biến động Chu kỳ đặt hàng Hàng tuần Về & phút Khách hàng Doanh nghiệp kinh doanh - Người tiêu dùng cuối số nhiều Dịch vụ khách hàng Phản ứng, cứng nhắc Đáp ứng, linh hoạt Sự bổ sung Lên kế hoạch Thời gian thực Mô hình phân phối Cung cấp theo định hướng Theo nhu cầu Loại lô hàng Số lượng lớn Các lô hàng nhỏ Các điểm đến Tập trung Phổ biến rộng rãi 1.1 TMĐT VÀ HOẠT ĐỘNG LOGISTICS TRONG TMĐT 1.1.3 Các vai trò tham dự e Logistics E commerce platform (EC) Trong giao dịch TMĐT Nhà cung ứng (S) E logistics Khách hàng (D) LPS Người bán hàng (S): Người sở hữu hàng hóa, có nhu cầu bán Nền tảng TMĐT: EC sở để thực giao dịch ĐT - ứng dụng phần mềm cho phép doanh nghiệp TMĐT qly bán hàng hoạt động K.D Khách hàng (D): Có nhu cầu mua hàng Là tổ chức NTDCC NCC dịch vụ logistics (LPS) Công ty logistics cung cấp dịch vụ logistics với chức logistics chuyên biệt cho TMĐT EC LPS có chức truyền thơng cung cấp dịch vụ logistics EC, LPS, S kết hợp với theo nhiều cách  phương án tổ chức logistics linh hoạt đa dạng …liên tục phát triển với ứng dụng 4.0 8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, 1.2 CÁC QUÁ TRÌNH E LOGISTICS TẠI DN VÀ KÊNH PHÂN PHỐI these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw 1.2.1 Quá trình E logistics doanh nghiệp buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to E LOGISTICS Logistics đầu vào (e-procurement) Con người Cơng nghệ Mua sắm điện tử sử dụng tích hợp điện tử ICT Mua Bao gồm tất hoạt động mua sắm kể từ xác định nhu cầu ban đầu người dùng Logistics đầu (e-fulfillment logistics) Sử dụng ICT để quản lý quy trình thực đơn hàng dựa tích hợp người, quy trình cơng nghệ Bắt đầu từ điểm chấp nhận đơn hang  SP giao Qui trình E-procurement E-fulfillment SRM CRM Công ti Mua B2B B2B Bán B2C Nhà cung ứng Nhà cung ứng extran et Intran et Khách hàng Khách hàng Intern et Con người Công nghệ Qui trình Xữ lí ĐĐH; vận chuyển; dự trữ bảo quản; dịch vụ KH… Logistics ngược (e - reverse logistics) Logistics ngược vận hành sản phẩm ngược lại chuỗi cung ứng: tất thủ tục liên quan đến việc trả lại sản phẩm, sửa chữa, bảo trì 1.2 CÁC QUÁ TRÌNH E LOGISTICS TẠI DN VÀ KÊNH PHÂN PHỐI 1.2.2 E logistics kênh phân phối Logistics B2B: lơ hàng có quy mơ lớn Số lượng NCC KH Logistics B2C: kích thước theo nhu cầu TDC, logistics đầu vào đơn giản đầu Logistics C2C: Kích thước theo nhu câu KH, logistics đầu vào phức tạp 8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, 1.3 NHỮNG THAY ĐỔI VÀ CẤU TRÚC KẾT HỢP TRONG E LOGISTICS these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw 1.3.1 Thay đổi e logistics buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to 1.3 NHỮNG THAY ĐỔI VÀ CẤU TRÚC KẾT HỢP TRONG E LOGISTICS 1.3.2 Cấu trúc kết hợp e logistics (1) Mơ hình e logistics B2B2C B2B2C tận dụng tối đa điểm mạnh từ hai mơ hình phổ biến B2B B2C.Doanh nghiệp sở hữu sản phẩm (Chữ B đầu tiên) thường nhà sản xuất Doanh nghiệp phân phối SP cung cấp tảng giao tiếp (Chữ B thứ hai) Khách hàng (C) - NTD tạo đột phá cho doanh nghiệp sản xuất cung cấp hàng hóa Ví dụ : B2B2C sàn TMĐT trung gian Tiki, Sendo, Lazada, Shopee, (2) omni channel Người dùng trọng tâm có kết nối kênh với người, kênh với kênh, đồng – liền mạnh – thống (2) Logistics BL xuyên biên giới (CBE) Hoạt động bán lẻ online quốc tế,ngày chiếm tỷ lớn với CN K.T logistics hỗ trợ đại 8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, 1.4 TỔ CHỨC VÀ XU HƯỚNG ỨNG DỤNG e logistics these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw 1.4.1 Tổ chức e logistics Merchant buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to Bộ phận e-logistics nội sàn TMĐT, nhà bán lẻ lớn – tốc độ Nguồn lực tổ chức Sử dụng nhà cung cấp dịch vụ elogistics LPS Hoặc kết hợp hai Theo Ken Research, thị trường E-Logistics chi phối 3PL Các sàn TMĐT có xu hướng th ngồi dịch vụ giao hàng thông qua 3PL chuyên nghiệp 1.4 TỔ CHỨC VÀ XU HƯỚNG ỨNG DỤNG e logistics 1.4.1 Tổ chức e logistics Merchant (1) Nội bộ/ tự thực Khi logistics quan trọng với thành công doanh nghiệp DN mua SP, trì chất lượng cung cấp cho NTD thơng qua sở logistics Phù hợp với Nhà bán lẻ đa kênh người tự vận hành Các chiến lược tổ chức e logistics (3) Vận chuyển thẳng/ droppship Thiếu nguồn lực để phát triển lực logistics, logistics yếu tố định thành cơng, th ngồi hồn tồn chức logistics cho LSP có lực lựa chọn tốt Người bán chịu trách nhiệm giao dịch trực tuyến Nhà cung cấp chịu trách nhiệm thực đơn hàng chịu CP liên quan đến logistics (2) Thuê Khi giá trị logistics với CLKD thấp loại bỏ chức logistics, tập trung vào kinh doanh cốt lõi Người bán giao quyền kiểm soát phần/tồn quy trình logistics cho LSP Giúp giảm CP, tăng tính linh hoạt Phù hợp với người bán điện tử túy (4) Tích hợp: Kết hợp chiến lược phần khác quy trình logistics  chiến lược tổng hợp Người bán xử lý nghĩa vụ logistics dựa vào sẵn sàng hình thành quan hệ đối tác với bên thứ ba khả giám sát mối quan hệ đối tác 8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, 1.4 TỔ CHỨC VÀ XU HƯỚNG ỨNG DỤNG e logistics these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw 1.4.2 Các xu hướng ứng dụng e logistics buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to  Số hóa tự động hóa  Tập trung nhiều vào cá e logistics chuỗi cung ứng nhân hóa khách hàng  Kết hợp phương thức  Tự động hóa quy trình GH tốn kỹ thuật số với  Sử dụng sAA cho SCM giao hàng  Sử dụng Dữ liệu lớn để phân  Cải thiện khả hiển thị ccu tích nhu cầu logistics KH  Tạo sử dụng thực tế tăng cường thực tế ảo  Sử dụng CN di động tảng truyền thông XH CHƯƠNG 2: Hạ tầng mạng lưới logistics thương mại điện tử 02 2.1 Hạ tầng công nghệ thông tin 2.2 Mạng lưới phân phối vật chất 8/30/2022 Chapter I n my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that In consequence I’m in- clined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men Most of the con- fidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quiver- ing on the horizon—for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my fa- The Great Gatsby ther snobbish snobbishly repeat a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I want- ed no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffect- ed scorn If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away This responsiveness had nothing to with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the ‘creative temperament’— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again No—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily in the abortive sorrows and short- winded elations of men My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations The Car- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com raways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the ac- tual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father car- ries on today I never saw this great-uncle but I’m supposed to look like him—with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father’s office I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic mi- gration known as the Great War I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to go east and learn the bond business Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said, ‘Why—ye- es’ with very grave, hesitant faces Father agreed to finance me for a year and after vario perma- nently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office sug- gested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went The Great Gatsby out to the country alone I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and mut- tered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road ‘How you get to West Egg village?’ he asked helpless- ly I told him And as I walked on I was lonely no longer I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler He had casu- ally conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees—just as things grow in fast movies—I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giv- in volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Mae- cenas knew And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North Ameri- ca It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound They are not perfect ovals—like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed flat at the contact end—but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetua that fly overhead To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size I lived at West Egg, the—well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bi- zarre and not a little sinister contrast between them My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard—it was a factual imi- tation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden It was Gatsby’s mansion Or rather, as I didn’t know Mr Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentle- man of that name My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore, and it had been overlooked, so I had a The Great Gatsby view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor’s lawn, and the consoling proximity of millionaires—all for eighty dol- lars a month Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I’d know just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-cli- max His family were enormously wealthy—even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach—but now he’d left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he’d brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest It was hard to real- ize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to that Why they came east I don’t know They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seek- ing a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarce- ly knew at all Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful re 2.1 HẠ TẦNG CÔNG NGHỆ THÔNG TIN Colonial man- sion overlooking the bay The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens—final- ly when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch He had changed since his New Haven years Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body—he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat It was a body capable of enor- mous leverage—a cruel body His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the im- pression of fractiousness he conveyed There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked—and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts ‘Now, these matters is final,’ 10 The Great Gatsby he seemed to say, ‘just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.’ We were in the same Senior Society, and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch ‘I’ve got a nice place here,’ he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub- nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore ‘It belonged to Demaine the oil man.’ He turned me around again, politely and abruptly ‘We’ll go inside.’ We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy- colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling—and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, mak- ing a shadow on it as wind does on the sea The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which tw 2.1.1 Vai trị hệ thống thơng tin logistics buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house I must have stood for a few moments listening to MỤC ĐÍCH Mơi trường KD Để cung cấp thơng tin cho q trình định nhà quản trị, từ định chiến lược cho Dữ liệu đầu vào đến định mang tính tác nghiệp Quản trị sở liệu Phân loại Xử lí, phân tích Lưu trữ KHÁI NIỆM Quyết định logistics Hệ thống thông tin logistics cấu trúc bao gồm người, phương tiện qui trình để thu thập, Thơng tin đầu phân tích, định lượng truyền tải liệu cách Nhà quản trị logistics hợp lí, nhằm tăng cường hiệu hoạt động logistics doanh nghiệp 2.1 HẠ TẦNG CÔNG NGHỆ THÔNG TIN CHỨC NĂNG 2.1.1 Vai trị hệ thống thơng tin logistics • Hoạch định chiến lược • Phân tích định • Tác nghiệp • Kiểm soát YÊU CẦU • Nguyên tắc đầy đủ, sẵn sàng (Availability) • Nguyên tắc chọn lọc (Selective) • Ngun tắc xác (Accuracy) • Ngun tắc linh hoạt (Flexibility) • Nguyên tắc kịp thời (Timeliness) • Nguyên tắc dễ sử dụng (Appropriate format) 10