Essay on Study Guide for Economics - 7364 Words

B. Answers to Short-Answer, Essays, and Problems 1. What are the major features of monopolistic competition compared to pure competition and pure monopoly? In monopolistic competition, there are a relatively large number of firms, not the thousands of firms as in pure competition. The monopolistically competitive firms produce differentiated products, not the standardized products of pure competition. Product differentiation means that monopolistic competitors engage in some price competition because they have some limited â€Å"price making† ability based on the less elastic demand for their particular product. This demand, however, is more elastic than the demand for monopolists’ products. Monopolistic competitors, unlike most†¦show more content†¦[text: E p. 488; MI p. 230] 6. Assume that the short run cost and demand data given in the table below confront a monopolistic competitor selling a given product and engaged in a given amount of product promotion. Compute the marginal cost and marginal revenue of each unit of output and enter these figures in the table. Total Marginal Quantity Marginal Output cost cost demanded Price revenue 0 $ 25 0 $60 1 40 $15 1 55 $ 55 2 45 5 2 50 45 3 55 10 3 45 35 4 70 15 4 40 25 5 90 20 5 35 15 6 115 25 6 30 5 7 145 30 7 25 –5 8 180 35 8 20 –15 9 220 40 9 15 –25 10 265 45 10 10 –35 (a) The firm will produce 4 units of output. At that level, marginal revenue ($25) is greater than marginal cost ($15), but as close to equality as possible. Total profit will be $90 ($160 – $70). (b) The demand for the firm’s product will decrease until price equals average cost and total profits are zero. [text: E pp. 488-490; MI pp. 230-232] 7. Assume that the short-run cost and demand data given in the table below confront a monopolistic competitor selling a given product and engaged in a given amount of product promotion. Compute the marginal cost and marginal revenue of each unit of output and enter these figures in the table. Total Marginal Quantity Marginal Output cost cost demanded Price revenue 0 $ 75 0 $180 1 120 $ 45 1 165 $ 165 2 135 15 2Show MoreRelatedManagerial Economics: A Study Guide2627 Words   |  11 Pagesï » ¿Running Head: Managerial Economics Managerial Economics Executive Summary A managers decision to start a new business in an international market essentially requires a careful analysis of the industry patterns, economic situation, and consumer behavior. The question is whether a new business should be started in an international setting or not. The answer to this question has been given in the light of ten important factors and costs which impact this managerial decision for a new businessRead MoreEconomics 130: Exam 3 Study Guide3071 Words   |  13 Pagesï » ¿Economics 130: Exam 3 Study Guide 1) Which market model has the least number of firms? a. 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Essay over Reading Free Essays

â€Å"Being Country† by Bobbie Ann Mason It’s kind of crazy how stories you read can bring so many mental pictures in your mind of things you can relate to it. In Bobbie Ann Mason’s story, â€Å"Being Country†, I related very well to the country style of living. I, myself, lived in a very small country town in Texas, and know people just like the â€Å"country people† noted in Mason’s story. We will write a custom essay sample on Essay over Reading or any similar topic only for you Order Now The subject I visualized a lot throughout reading this was the food. There is nothing better in the whole world than good ole’ southern cooking. Back home in Texas I had a buddy that was a â€Å"country boy†, and anytime I went over to the Tapley’s house for dinner; I knew I was in for a treat. I can remember one night his mom came out with humungous steaks that they had just received from their last cattle. The juices all over the plate, the large ears of corn, the twice baked potatoes, and fresh green bean casserole had my saliva going bonkers in my mouth. I can still visualize the way the table was set with the decorative valentines table cloth and the silver utensils. When I was reading about all of the different foods the mother making, it triggered my mind to go back and remember Mrs. Tapley in the kitchen slaving over all of the dishes. When dinner time came we all huddled around the table where Mr. Tapley said grace. I’m pretty sure it went a little like, â€Å"We thank god for the blessing to be able to grow our own food and for the prosperous seasons he has brought us and for the future. In God’s name, Amen. † After that amen, we feasted. Myself and the Tapley’s filled our faces until our stomachs said no more. During this obliteration of food I don’t recall us ever saying a word, just like in Mason’s essay it is a given that at the dinner table it is strictly about enjoying the meal that has been placed in front of you. No talking is necessary but there are the occasional jokes popped off usually by the head of the table. The imagery that has been placed in my head by Mason’s story has not only made me think solely upon the one experience I have explained. It makes me think about my town as a whole. The coffee shop in my town was smack dab in the middle of what Mason calls her â€Å"square† ours was the Brookshire’s enter. The coffee shop was across the street from the center of which also had our neighborhood groceries, Brookshire’s Grocery. Walking out of Brookshire’s you can always smell the Coffee shop’s rich fragrance of coffee bean no matter what time of the day. Recollections of my step dad walking out of the grocery store and saying the same thing Mason’s dad would say to her, â€Å"I hate that smell! † Coffee isn’t my sort of thing either, but I do however love the smell of coffee in the morning. And walking out of brookshire’s was always heavenly smelling the Coffee Shop. My most fond memory however was sparked when Mason starts talking about her grandmother. My grandmother was a country woman and grew up in Iowa on a farm herself. My grandma was always so conservative and would save any leftovers if possible because she grew up just like Mason says, â€Å"†¦ haunted by the fear of crop failure. We ate as if we didn’t know where our next meal might come from. † My grandmother was simply always scared we weren’t going to have enough food. When we would go to Brookshire’s she would always over stock the house with food. Snacks, drinks, meals, dessert, soups and just about anything you could name has probably been through my house as well. She made so many meals that were just out of ingredients she threw together, and my brother and I were always the Guinea pigs. All my grandma would do is work around the house, cook and clean just like what Mason states about her grandmother when saying she doesn’t know any different. When thinking of my grandmother I think of a kind and gentle voice so in my head whenever I read what her grandma was saying I heard a voice much similar to my grandmother’s. In conclusion, Bobbie Ann Mason’s â€Å"Being Country† really hit home to me. It showed me how imagery can play a big role in writing, and how it can really persuade the reader to keep reading. I now understand that the visual art must be consumed by the readers through the writer’s capabilities to trigger the readers mind. It is just up to the writer on whether or not they express their visual presentation well enough to the reader. â€Å"Being Country† definitely displayed it’s visual art to me by making me feel like I was back in my little Podunk town in Texas. How to cite Essay over Reading, Essay examples

My Closet Essay Example For Students

My Closet Essay My Closet I sat quietly on the couch next to my father. His short muscular arm extended over my head as if to protect his little girl. His fingers got lost in my strands of hair, as I yanked my head forward as if to signal I did not want him to play with my hair. My new baby doll with big blonde ringlets and skin that smelled like a baby’s skin after it has just been powdered, rested in my lap. My meek hands stroked the tiny doll as if it were alive. My father knelt down and kissed my forehead as he said, â€Å"Don’t worry, Princess, Mommy will†¦.Oh here she is now!† I sprang from my warm, sheltered seat and sprinted to the front window as quickly as my tiny legs could move. My fingers grasped the long, wooden windowsill and my little pug nose pressed against the window pain. My breath delivered a frosty appearance on the glass as my eyes strained to see my mother step out of her car. My toes ached with pain as I fought to stay in view with the outside world . Too late. I could already hear my mothers graceful footsteps ascend the stairs. She carefully opened the door that entered my kitchen, and I flung myself into her arms. My mother yelped with shock and a hint of exhaustion, â€Å"Meggie honey, Mommy is very tired. Please be a little more careful next time.† â€Å"Mommy! Mommy! Daddy bought me a new dolly today, her name is, Madeline. Look! Look!†Ã¢â‚¬Å"Oh very nice sweetie. I have a surprise for you too.†Ã¢â‚¬Å"What is it? What is it?† I exclaimed as I jumped rapidly around the kitchen. My mind raced. Was it another doll? Maybe the game I had been wanting? Tinkerbell perfume! That is what it must be. I had always wanted Tinkerbell perfume. Everytime I saw it in a store I would shout and point with such excitement. I thought it had magical powers that would make me fly. My imagination always ran with ideas as most children’ always do. My mother griped my hand tightly and led me into the living room a t a slow pace that indicated she was nervous yet excited. She sat me down gently next to my father. Her smile had never been so huge. An extra twinkle was in her eyes. They fluttered from my father to me, and then back to my father. She stood there in front of us, motionless. Her hands were clamped together and her fingertips were the color of my babydolls dress, white. â€Å"Well?† my father questioned. â€Å"Guess what? Mommy went to the doctors today and I found out I am going to have another baby!† exclaimed my mother. â€Å"What! That’s fantastic,† my father shouted as he scooped her up into his arms and gently kissed her, first on the cheek with a light caress of his lips and then upon her lips which lingered for a few extra seconds. That kiss through my eyes seemed to last for an eternity. I on the other hand sat there expressionless. My new dolly fell to the floor, face down, into the plush, cream carpet. Her hair was now a tattered knot from my little girl fingers weaving in and out of it, just as my father had done to my hair. My eyes felt hot and watery, my cheeks reflected the color of a shiny read apple. I felt those tears piling up by the millisecond. The pressure behind my eyes was overwhelming; my eyes were going to pop out at that very moment. Not an utter of sound escaped from my quivering lips. I thought about the day when I may no longer be first at going down grandpa’s slide at his pool on those hot summer days. The handmade wooden swing that hung from a giant oak tree in my back yard would no longer be just mine. Every day we went shopping I wouldn’t be able to get a surprise because I would have to wait my turn. Picking out my favorite cereal just for the toy inside wouldn’t matter anymore. I would soon become a ghost. The name Meagan did not sound familiar anymore. So, I tiptoed around the corner of the living room and up the stairs, which seemed a mile long. I went to a place where only I existed and no one else mattered. My closet and I cried. .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f , .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f .postImageUrl , .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f , .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f:hover , .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f:visited , .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f:active { border:0!important; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f:active , .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u6fa27fee141fa0484c4ee300a6443d1f:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: The application of Information Technology systems EssayI let all of those tears come bellowing out from my irritated, red eyes. I wanted to yell and scream and bang my hands on the floor till I was satisfied. I did not do any of those things; instead I draped myself upon the cold, hard floor. I lay there until I heard those graceful steps of my mother’s waltz into my room. â€Å"Meggie, where are you?† my mother’s voice whispered. For a minute I thought about not responding so that she would realize what life would be like if I was not around, even if it was only for a brief moment. â€Å"I’m right here,† I whimpered. â€Å"Baby girl, why are you crying?† My mother opened my closet door and peered in. â€Å"I am going to be forgotten†. â€Å"Oh, honey. That is not true in the slightest†. â€Å"Mommy, will you still love me as much as you do when you get the new baby?†Ã¢â‚¬Å"Meggie, listen to me. I love you more than you understand. You are the single most important person in my life. I would do anything for you†. â€Å"Really?†Ã¢â‚¬Å"Of course, just because I am going to have another baby does not mean I will love you any less†. â€Å"Really?†Ã¢â‚¬Å"Yes, and I have another surprise for you†. My tears instantly stopped streaming down my chubby cheeks. My mother picked me up into her delicate arms and placed one hand upon the back of my head. Placing me down onto my canopy bed she turned and walked out of the room for a second. Upon her quick return she carried with her a bag. It was small and pink. With a loving smile she placed it next to me on my bed. I leaned over slightly and peeked into the bag. TINKERBELL PERFUME! My mother had gotten me tinkerbell perfume. â€Å"This is just what I wanted†. â€Å"I know, and it is because now that you will be a big sister you are becoming a big girl†. â€Å"I am?†Ã¢â‚¬Å"Yes, you are. Being a big sister will be lots of fun, just you wait†. I crawled into my mother’s lap and kissed her upon the cheek. She looked down and me and I stared up at this beautiful woman that I wanted to grow up to be just like. She was radiant, like an angel. It was then that I accepted my new role in life. I jumped down from my mother’s lap with my perfume in hand and ran into my closet to begin freshening up. After all, I am big sister Meggie. Engineering Reports