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Ebook Management Information Systems: Managing the digital firm (Thirteenth edition Global edition): Part 1 presents the following content: Chapter 1: information systems in global business today; chapter 2: global ebusiness and collaboration; chapter 3: information systems, organizations, and strategy; chapter 4: ethical and social issues in information systems; chapter 5: IT Infrastructure and emerging technologies; chapter 6: foundations... 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Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard fo GLOBAL EDITION in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp Management Information Systems white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Managing the Digital Firm THIRTEENTH EDITION /IRRIXL'0EYHSRˆ.ERI40EYHSR Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Management Information Systems MANAGING THE DIGITAL FIRM THIRTEENTH EDITION GLOBAL EDITION Kenneth C Laudon New York University Jane P Laudon Azimuth Information Systems Boston Columbus Indianapolis New York San Francisco Upper Saddle River Amsterdam Cape Town Dubai London Madrid Milan Munich Paris Montreal Toronto Delhi Mexico City Sao Paulo Sydney Hong Kong Seoul Singapore Taipei Tokyo Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b Editor in Chief: Stephanie Wall Executive Editor: Bob Horan Editorial Assistant: Ashlee Bradbury International Publisher: Laura Dent International Programme Editor: Leandra Paoli Director of Marketing: Maggie Moylan Executive Marketing Manager: Anne Fahlgren International Marketing Manager: Dean Erasmus Senior Managing Editor: Judy Leale Senior Production Project Manager: Karalyn Holland Senior Manufacturing Controller, Production, International: Trudy Kimber Creative Director: Blair Brown Senior Art Director: Janet Slowik Cover Designer: Jodi Notowitz Cover Image: Marco Rosario Venturini Autieri/Getty Media Editor: Denise Vaughn Media Project Manager: Lisa Rinaldi Full-Service Project Management: Azimuth Interactive, Inc great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Pearson Education Limited Edinburgh Gate Harlow Essex CM20 2JE England and Associated Companies throughout the world Visit us on the World Wide Web at: www.pearson.com/uk © Pearson Education Limited 2014 The rights of Kenneth C Laudon and Jane P Laudon to be identified as authors of this work have been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 Authorised adaptation from the United States edition, entitled Management Information Systems: Managing the Digital Firm, 13th Edition, ISBN: 978-0-13-305069-1 by Kenneth C Laudon and Jane P Laudon, published by Pearson Education © 2014 All rights reserved No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a 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Microsoft® and Windows® are registered trademarks of the Microsoft Corporation in the U.S.A and other countries This book is not sponsored or endorsed by or affiliated with the Microsoft Corporation Credits and acknowledgments borrowed from other sources and reproduced, with permission, in this textbook appear on the appropriate page within the text ISBN 13: 978-0-273-78997-0 ISBN 10: 0-273-78997-X British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library 10 17 16 15 14 13 Typeset in 10.5/13 ITC Veljovic Std Book by Azimuth Interactive, Inc Printed and bound by Courier/Kendallville in The United States of America The publisher's policy is to use paper manufactured from sustainable forests Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b About the Authors great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Kenneth C Laudon is a Professor of Information Systems at New York University’s Stern School of Business He holds a B.A in Economics from Stanford and a Ph.D from Columbia University He has authored twelve books dealing with electronic commerce, information systems, organizations, and society Professor Laudon has also written over forty articles concerned with the social, organizational, and management impacts of information systems, privacy, ethics, and multimedia technology Professor Laudon’s current research is on the planning and management of large-scale information systems and multimedia information technology He has received grants from the National Science Foundation to study the evolution of national information systems at the Social Security Administration, the IRS, and the FBI Ken’s research focuses on enterprise system implementation, computer-related organizational and occupational changes in large organizations, changes in management ideology, changes in public policy, and understanding productivity change in the knowledge sector Ken Laudon has testified as an expert before the United States Congress He has been a researcher and consultant to the Office of Technology Assessment (United States Congress), Department of Homeland Security, and to the Office of the President, several executive branch agencies, and Congressional Committees Professor Laudon also acts as an in-house educator for several consulting firms and as a consultant on systems planning and strategy to several Fortune 500 firms At NYU’s Stern School of Business, Ken Laudon teaches courses on Managing the Digital Firm, Information Technology and Corporate Strategy, Professional Responsibility (Ethics), and Electronic Commerce and Digital Markets Ken Laudon’s hobby is sailing Jane Price Laudon is a management consultant in the information systems area and the author of seven books Her special interests include systems analysis, data management, MIS auditing, software evaluation, and teaching business professionals how to design and use information systems Jane received her Ph.D from Columbia University, her M.A from Harvard University, and her B.A from Barnard College She has taught at Columbia University and the New York University Graduate School of Business She maintains a lifelong interest in Oriental languages and civilizations The Laudons have two daughters, Erica and Elisabeth, to whom this book is dedicated Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b Brief Contents great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Part One Organizations, Management, and the Networked Enterprise 31 Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Information Systems in Global Business Today 32 Part Two Information Technology Infrastructure 191 Chapter Chapter IT Infrastructure and Emerging Technologies 192 Chapter Chapter Telecommunications, the Internet, and Wireless Technology 276 Part Three Key System Applications for the Digital Age 365 Chapter Achieving Operational Excellence and Customer Intimacy: Enterprise Applications 366 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 E-Commerce: Digital Markets, Digital Goods 400 Part Four Building and Managing Systems 515 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Building Information Systems 516 Global E-Business and Collaboration 70 Information Systems, Organizations, and Strategy 108 Ethical and Social Issues in Information Systems 150 Foundations of Business Intelligence: Databases and Information Management 238 Securing Information Systems 322 Managing Knowledge 446 Enhancing Decision Making 482 Managing Projects 556 Managing Global Systems 590 (available on the Web at www.pearsonglobaleditions.com/laudon) References 591 Glossary 607 Indexes 621 Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b Complete Contents great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Part One Organizations, Management, and the Networked Enterprise 31 Chapter Information Systems in Global Business Today 32 ◆Opening Case: Efficiency in Wood Harvesting with Information Systems 33 1.1 The Role of Information Systems in Business Today 35 How Information Systems are Transforming Business 35 • What’s New in Management Information Systems? 36 • Globalization Challenges and Opportunities: A Flattened World 38 ◆Interactive Session: Management Running the Business from the Palm of Your Hand 39 The Emerging Digital Firm 41 • Strategic Business Objectives of Information Systems 42 1.2 Perspectives on Information Systems 45 What Is an Information System? 45 • Dimensions of Information Systems 48 • It Isn’t Just Technology: A Business Perspective on Information Systems 52 ◆Interactive Session: Technology UPS Competes Globally with Information Technology 53 Complementary Assets: Organizational Capital and the Right Business Model 56 1.3 Contemporary Approaches to Information Systems 58 Technical Approach 58 • Behavioral Approach 58 • Approach of This Text: Sociotechnical Systems 59 Learning Track Modules: How Much Does IT Matter?, Information Systems and Your Career, The Mobile Digital Platform 61 Review Summary 62 • Key Terms 63 • Review Questions 63 • Discussion Questions 64 • Hands-On MIS Projects 64 • Video Cases 65 • Collaboration and Teamwork Project 65 ◆Case Study: Mashaweer 66 Chapter Global E-business and Collaboration 70 ◆Opening Case: Telus Embraces Social Learning 71 2.1 Business Processes and Information Systems 73 Business Processes 73 • How Information Technology Improves Business Processes 75 2.2 Types of Information Systems 75 Systems for Different Management Groups 76 ◆Interactive Session: Technology Schiphol International Hub 78 Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg Contents sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel Systems for Linking the Enterprise 83 from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b ◆Interactive Session: Management Piloting Procter & Gamble from Decision Cockpits 84 E-Business, E-Commerce, and E-Government 87 2.3 Systems for Collaboration and Social Business 88 What is Collaboration? 88 • What Is Social Business? 89 • Business Benefits of Collaboration and Social Business 90 • Building a Collaborative Culture and Business Processes 91 • Tools and Technologies for Collaboration and Social Business 92 2.4 The Information Systems Function in Business 98 The Information Systems Department 99 • Organizing the Information Systems Function 100 Learning Track Modules: Systems from a Functional Perspective, IT Enables Collaboration and Teamwork, Challenges of Using Business Information Systems, Organizing the Information Systems Function, Occupational and Career Outlook for Information Systems Majors 2012–2018 100 Review Summary 101 • Key Terms 102 • Review Questions 102 • Discussion Questions 103 • Hands-On MIS Projects 103 • Video Cases 104 • Collaboration and Teamwork Project 104 ◆Case Study: Modernization of NTUC Income 105 great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Chapter Information Systems, Organizations, and Strategy 108 ◆Opening Case: Will Sears’s Technology Strategy Work This Time? 109 3.1 Organizations and Information Systems 111 What Is an Organization? 112 • Features of Organizations 114 3.2 How Information Systems Impact Organizations and Business Firms 119 Economic Impacts 119 • Organizational and Behavioral Impacts 120 • The Internet and Organizations 123 • Implications for the Design and Understanding of Information Systems 123 3.3 Using Information Systems to Achieve Competitive Advantage 123 Porter’s Competitive Forces Model 124 • Information System Strategies for Dealing with Competitive Forces 125 • The Internet’s Impact on Competitive Advantage 128 ◆Interactive Session: Organizations Technology Helps Starbucks Find New Ways to Compete 129 The Business Value Chain Model 131 ◆Interactive Session: Technology Automakers Become Software Companies 134 Synergies, Core Competencies, and Network-Based Strategies 136 3.4 Using Systems for Competitive Advantage: Management Issues 140 Sustaining Competitive Advantage 140 • Aligning IT with Business Objectives 141 • Managing Strategic Transitions 142 Learning Track Module: The Changing Business Environment for Information Technology 142 Review Summary 142 •Key Terms 143 • Review Questions 143 • Discussion Questions 144 • Hands-On MIS Projects 144 • Video Cases 146 • Collaboration and Teamwork Project 146 Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg Contents sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett ◆Case Study: Can This Bookstore Be Saved? 147 along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old Chapter Ethical and Social Issues in Information Systems 150 ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below ◆Opening Case: Ethical Issues Facing the Use of Technologies for the Aged Community 151 4.1 Understanding Ethical and Social Issues Related to Systems 153 A Model for Thinking About Ethical, Social, and Political Issues 155 • Five Moral Dimensions of the Information Age 155 • Key Technology Trends That Raise Ethical Issues 156 4.2 Ethics in an Information Society 159 Basic Concepts: Responsibility, Accountability, and Liability 159 • Ethical Analysis 160 • Candidate Ethical Principles 161 • Professional Codes of Conduct 161 • Some Real-World Ethical Dilemmas 162 4.3 The Moral Dimensions of Information Systems 162 Information Rights: Privacy and Freedom in the Internet Age 162 • Property Rights: Intellectual Property 169 ◆Interactive Session: Technology Life on the Grid: iPhone Becomes iTrack 170 Accountability, Liability, and Control 174 • System Quality: Data Quality and System Errors 176 • Quality of Life: Equity, Access, and Boundaries 176 ◆Interactive Session: Organizations Monitoring in the Workplace 179 Learning Track Module: Developing a Corporate Code of Ethics for Information Systems 183 Review Summary 184 • Key Terms 184 • Review Questions 185 • Discussion Questions 185 • Hands-On MIS Projects 185 • Video Cases 187 • Collaboration and Teamwork Project 187 ◆Case Study: Facebook: It’s About the Money 188 Part Two Information Technology Infrastructure 191 Chapter IT Infrastructure and Emerging Technologies 192 ◆Opening Case: Reforming the Regulatory System for Construction Permits 193 5.1 IT Infrastructure 195 Defining IT Infrastructure 195 • Evolution of IT Infrastructure 197 • Technology Drivers of Infrastructure Evolution 201 5.2 Infrastructure Components 206 Computer Hardware Platforms 207 • Operating System Platforms 207 • Enterprise Software Applications 208 • Data Management and Storage 208 • Networking/Telecommunications Platforms 208 • Internet Platforms 209 • Consulting and System Integration Services 209 5.3 Contemporary Hardware Platform Trends 210 Chapter About half way between West Egg and New York the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcen- dent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg The eyes of Doctor T J Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun a the sol- Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 27 emn dumping ground The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan’s mistress The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car ‘We’re getting off!’ he insisted ‘I want you to meet my girl.’ I think he’d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to I followed him over a low white-washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road un- der Doctor Eckleburg’s persistent stare The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edg Contents sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all-night 28 The Great Gatsby restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs GEORGE B WILSON Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car vis- ible was the dust-covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste He was a blonde, spiritless man, anae- mic, and faintly handsome When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes ‘Hello, Wilson, old man,’ said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder ‘How’s business?’ ‘I can’t complain,’ answered Wilson unconvincingly ‘When are you going to sell me that car?’ ‘Next week; I’ve got my man working on it now.’ ‘Works pretty slow, don’t he?’ ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom coldly ‘And if you feel that way about it, maybe I’d better sell it somewhere else after all.’ ‘I don’t mean that,’ explained Wilson quickly ‘I just meant——‘ His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage Then I heard foo in a mo- ment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 29 but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice: ‘Get some chairs, why don’t you, so somebody can sit down.’ ‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom ‘I want to see you,’ said Tom intently ‘Get on the next train.’ ‘All right.’ ‘I’ll meet you by the news-stand on the lower level.’ She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door We waited for her down the road and out of sight It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was sett along the rail- road track ‘Terrible place, isn’t it,’ said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg ‘Awful.’ ‘It does her good to get away.’ ‘Doesn’t her husband object?’ ‘Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New 30 The Great Gatsby York He’s so dumb he doesn’t know he’s alive.’ So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up togeth- er to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs Wilson sat discreetly in another car Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train She had changed her dress to a brown figured mus- lin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York At the news-stand she bought a copy of ‘Town Tattle’ and a moving-picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume Upstairs, in the solemn echo- ing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender-colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glow- ing sunshine But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass ‘I want to get one of those dogs,’ she said earnestly ‘I want to get one for the apartment They’re nice to have—a dog.’ We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd re- semblance to John D Rockefel The Mobile Digital Platform 210 • Consumerization of IT and BYOD 210 • Grid Computing 211 • Virtualization 211 from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an inde- terminate breed ‘What kind are they?’ asked Mrs Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi-window ‘All kinds What kind you want, lady?’ ‘I’d like to get one of those police dogs; I don’t suppose you got that kind?’ Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 31 The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck ‘That’s no police dog,’ said Tom ‘No, it’s not exactly a polICE dog,’ said the man with disappointment in his voice ‘It’s more of an airedale.’ He passed his hand over the brown wash-rag of a back ‘Look at that coat Some coat That’s a dog that’ll never bother you with catching cold.’ ‘I think it’s cute,’ said Mrs Wilson enthusiastically ‘How much is it?’ ‘That dog?’ He looked at it admiringly ‘That dog will cost you ten dollars.’ The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale con- cerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs Wilson’s lap, where she fondled the weather-proof coat with rapture ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ she asked delicately ‘That dog? That dog’s a boy.’ ‘It’s a bitch,’ said Tom decisively ‘Here’s your money Go and buy ten more dogs with it.’ We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn’t have b great flock of white sheep turn the corner ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘I have to leave you here.’ ‘No, you don’t,’ interposed Tom quickly ‘Myrtle’ll be hurt if you don’t come up to the apartment Won’t you, Myrtle?’ 32 The Great Gatsby ‘Come on,’ she urged ‘I’ll telephone my sister Cathe- rine She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.’ ‘Well, I’d like to, but——‘ We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs Wil- son gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in ‘I’m going to have the McKees come up,’ she announced as we rose in the elevator ‘And of course I got to call up my sister, too.’ The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tap- estried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles The only picture was an over-enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room Several old ◆Interactive Session: Management Should You Use Your iPhone for Work? 212 Cloud Computing 213 • Green Computing 216 • High-Performance and Power-Saving Processors 216 ◆Interactive Session: Organizations Nordea Goes Green with IT 217 Autonomic Computing 218 5.4 Contemporary Software Platform Trends 219 Linux and Open Source Software 219 • Software for the Web: Java, HTML, and HTML5 219 • Web Services and Service-Oriented Architecture 221 • Software Outsourcing and Cloud Services 223 5.5 Management Issues 225 Dealing with Platform and Infrastructure Change 225 • Management and Governance 226 • Making Wise Infrastructure Investments 226 Learning Track Modules: How Computer Hardware and Software Work, Service Level Agreements, The Open Source Software Initiative, Comparing Stages in IT Infrastructure Evolution, Cloud Computing 229 Review Summary 230 • Key Terms 231 • Review Questions 231 • Discussion Questions 232 • Hands-On MIS Projects 232 • Video Cases 233 • Collaboration and Teamwork Project 233 ◆Case Study: Should Businesses Move to the Cloud? 234 ‘lay on the table together with a copy of ‘Simon Called Peter’ and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway Mrs Wilson was first concerned with the dog A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 33 in the saucer of milk all afternoon Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o’clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun Sitting on Tom’s lap Mrs Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner When I came back they had disap- peared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of ‘Simon Called Peter’—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn’t make any sense to me Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs Wil- son and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a comp white Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jin- gled up and down upon her arms She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel Mr McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below Chapter Foundations of Business Intelligence: Databases and Information Management 238 ◆Opening Case: BAE Systems 239 6.1 Organizing Data in a Traditional File Environment 241 File Organization Terms and Concepts 241 • Problems with the Traditional File Environment 242 6.2 The Database Approach to Data Management 244 Database Management Systems 244 • Capabilities of Database Management Systems 249 • Designing Databases 251 6.3 Using Databases to Improve Business Performance and Decision Making 254 The Challenge of Big Data 254 • Business Intelligence Infrastructure 254 • Analytical Tools: Relationships, Patterns, Trends 257 ◆Interactive Session: Technology Big Data, Big Rewards 261 Databases and the Web 262 ◆ Interactive Session: Organizations Controversy Whirls Around the Consumer Product Safety Database 264 6.4 Managing Data Resources 265 Establishing an Information Policy 265 • Ensuring Data Quality 266 Learning Track Modules: Database Design, Normalization, and EntityRelationship Diagramming, Introduction to SQL, Hierarchical and Network Data Models 267

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