導語
寒山雲：世人謗我、欺我、辱我、笑我、輕我、賤我、惡我、騙我、如何處置乎?
拾得雲：只是忍他、讓他、由他、避他、耐他、敬他、不要理他、再待幾年你且看他。
一曲《格桑花開》她開始走進人們心中
她因Teana般的歌聲紅遍全國
被曝出同性戀
被罵不要臉
請了80多個明星捧場
卻沒有一個人來
她怒了：“你們是要拿錢買棺材！”
她為了這件事情
敗光了家財，也毫不猶豫跪在了地上
在娛樂這個大染缸中20年
她依然天真的像個孩子沒有絲毫改變
只是他的夢想由
“唱死在舞臺上”變成了“死在公益的路上”
格桑花開韓紅 - 雪域光芒
她，就是 韓 紅
1971年9月26日，在蒼茫的青藏高原上，
一聲清亮的嬰兒啼哭，她出生了。
家人為她取名央金卓瑪，漢名韓紅。
央金，
在藏語裡有著“妙音”的意思，
她的父親是相聲演員，母親是歌唱家，
人如其名，
她繼承了母親的好嗓子。
韓紅的母親
兒時的她過得無憂無慮，
跟著母親學習唱歌，
父親雖常年演出卻每次都有禮物，
直到6歲那年，她卻沒有等來禮物，
卻等來了哭腫眼睛的母親，
和父親因為演出事故身亡的訊息。
一時晴空萬里的童年，
忽然灰暗如烏雲翻滾。
小時候的韓紅
喪事後，母親被派去上海進修，
她被寄養在鄰居家，
鄰居自然不比父母，略顯刻薄，
稍有不順意便將氣撒在她身上。
生活的一切瑣事
開始壓只有半人高的小孩肩頭。
寄人籬下的滋味，讓她快速成熟，
要學會從一個眼神中讀懂大人的情緒，
要用最快的速度，
猜出他們話裡的弦外之音。
那些冷遇和辛苦，
她後來提起，仍覺痛入骨髓的寒涼。
但也許因為有了這樣的經歷，
讓她內心種下了菩提的種子……
韓紅一家
母親再婚後她成了“無父無母的孤兒”，
只好獨自一人投奔奶奶，
三天三夜的路程，
一小包餅乾是她全部的行李，
她心裡滿是恐懼，連廁所都不敢上。
到北京的奶奶家中已是夜裡11點，
她進門第一件事是拿掃帚掃地，
她討好地說：
“奶奶，您看我多會幹活兒，
而且我不喜歡吃肉。”
稚嫩的臉上洋溢著笑容，
而奶奶看到的卻只有辛酸。
沉重生活之下讓她內心早已斑駁，
老太太看著骨瘦如柴的孫女。
老人眼淚止不住地往下落：
“乖孫女兒，奶奶不用你幹活，
以後啊，家裡的肉都給你吃。”
從此，有奶奶的地方終於有了愛。
韓紅與奶奶
每一個時代都有無聲的暴力都存在
學校的同學欺負她“沒爹沒孃”，
她漸漸變得孤僻，性格也很暴躁，
只要誰嘲笑她是個孤兒，
她就必要和對方打一架。
久而久之，沒人再願意接近她，
她總是孤獨的一個人躲在角落裡。
在最無助的時光裡，
是音樂，
讓她擁有了仰望星空的夢想。
“我懂音樂，音樂也懂我，
我想說的話都在音樂裡，
在音樂面前，我無需偽裝。”
雖然沒有姣好的身材，
但出色的嗓音讓她完成了她的夢想，
果不其然，1985年，
她被順利選進第二炮兵政治部文工團。
那時的她瘦削幹練，
還組建起樂隊，打扮時髦，
在一群美女中絲毫不遜色。
右一韓紅
韓紅，右一
然而，一場突如其來的大病，
毀了她的一切。
在生病期間，
她不得不使用激素性藥物，
此後她越來越胖，
想盡辦法都沒能瘦下來。
她去參加比賽，評委的評價是：
“唱功很好，形象不佳。”
整整三年，屢屢參賽屢屢碰壁。
但上帝為你關上了門
必然會為你開啟一扇窗
她想拍一支MV做最後一搏，
那天，奶奶給她拿來了自己賣冰棍糊紙盒，
攢了整整10年的30000元，
“孫女兒，奶奶不懂什麼MTV，
但知道你愛唱歌，這些錢你拿去，
奶奶只能幫你這麼多了。”
她的第一支MV《喜馬拉雅》出現了，
憑此一路過關斬將，
獲得中央電視臺音樂大賽銅獎。
還在1995年，
考入解放軍藝術學院音樂系。
之後的事實證明，她贏了。
2000年，
她終於發行了自己的第一張唱片，
籤售那天，隊伍排滿了兩條長街。
人們隨手開啟廣播，
播放的不是《天路》，
就是《美麗的神話》。
天路韓紅 - 感動
她想著奶奶終於不用靠賣冰棍謀生了。
可人樹欲靜而風不止，子欲養而親不待。
2005年，奶奶腦溢血走了，
她的天一下子塌了。
她徘徊在空落落的小院，
“奶奶......奶奶......奶奶......”
可再也沒有人迴應。
最愛她的人走了
……
披麻戴孝的日子裡
奶奶在生命最後時光的囑咐深深記著
“大紅，什麼時候奶奶不在了，
你不能忘記要做好人，行善事。”
憂鬱了快三年，她終於想明白了，
現在這世上已經沒有人愛我，
那我就去愛別人。
自那之後，她活著只為一件事：
慈 善
她將目光投向兩個群體，老人和孩子，
她說：“老人是奶奶，孩子是我。”
從2008年起，
她發起“百人援助”系列公益活動，
迄今為止，11年時間裡，
哪裡有需要援助的地方，
他們就出現在哪裡。
她帶領近200人的團隊，
為全國各地送去公益醫療服務，
直接受益群眾達上萬人次。
累計義診超五千人，
捐贈藥箱4萬餘個，
無論條件多艱苦，環境多惡劣，
每一次援助都可以看到她忙碌的身影。
她曾對先天性心臟病患兒的母親，
拍著胸脯說“這個孩子，我來救”；
她在白血病患兒會診中，
毫不猶豫地說：
“需要的20萬經費，我來出。”
在“百人援陝”大型公益活動中，
她對所有患者家屬說：
“我幫你們，我敢承擔這個責任，也有勇氣！”
多麼有魄力的一句話，
瞬間讓患者家屬淚流滿面。
每一次援助，
她都親自帶隊行在路上，
無論路況多複雜、高寒缺氧，
辦一場義診，她的頭髮白了一半；
上一次高原，她的心臟落下了病根。
為老人獻愛心
捐贈給孩子衣物
為生病的孩子籌錢
她做慈善從來不宣傳，覺得不該聲張，
不合影也不簽名。
但在因014年，
某些明星接連因吸毒被抓，
汙點藝人的訊息，
佔據了新聞的滿屏滿版。
她決心讓這個圈子裡多些正能量，
她說：“我以前做公益不敢宣傳，
都被那些吸毒嫖娼的人佔著，
多我一個韓紅做慈善秀就怎麼了？”
她將媒體邀請至援助隊伍，
她和侄子張一山，早上4點鐘就起來，
一起和環衛工人們掃大街，
但原本是一個很暖心的活動。
但是放到網上之後，竟得到的是罵聲一片，
鋪天蓋地的質疑湧來，
很多網友說她是在作秀，
為了證明這並非只是宣傳，
只好公開了所有明星捐款的數額。
這張表就是明星們對環衛工人捐款的數額，她自己捐款十萬元。
結果又得罪了不少圈裡人，
但既然走出這一步，她從沒想過要退縮。
“我知道會有人罵我，但我老韓不怕，
我們中國人對於慈善事業參與度，
不如外國，我要的就是關注度，
才能帶動更多的社會資源，
投入到慈善裡面來。
我個性就這樣，你們愛罵什麼罵去，
我把事兒做到了就行了。”
她一向耿直坦率，
因為說話得罪人的虧，她一直沒少吃。
有人說，一次她邀請80多位明星，
來參加慈善晚會，
結果很多明星找理由推脫不來，
性格火爆的她，
當場痛斥那些言而無信的明星：
賺這麼多錢卻不做慈善，
拿錢去等著買棺材用？！
為了慈善，
她不怕得罪整個娛樂圈。
關於她道德綁架明星捐款的事，
一度被人詬病。
2015年應她號召，
蔣欣、譚維維、葉祖新等明星，
以志願者身份參與她的“百人援青”團隊。
（援助青海）
援助結束後，
為了感謝眾位好友的助力慈善，
跪地高舉酒杯酬謝眾人。
為慈善而卑躬屈膝，
這一幕令眾人感慨落淚。
蔣欣與她相擁而泣，
蔣欣說：“十分心疼韓紅，
她沒有看上去那麼堅強，
經常在房間裡吸氧，但為了大家在硬撐。”
其他明星當場表態，
“明年還跟著韓紅一起做慈善，
老大去哪，我們就去哪，我們明年見。”
她用身體力行感召著身邊的人。
在那段時間裡她說：
“那時候的我，絕對是卑躬屈膝、
低三下四的。”
有時別人當面答應給予資助，
但轉頭對方就玩起消失，
眼看專案開展資金卻無法到位，
她只能厚著臉皮再去求人。”
“這些年做慈善，我的確快捐空了。”
然而這一起付出得到的卻是——
“就是作秀，天天嘴上慈善，心裡陰暗。”
作秀？
從2008年開始到現在，
她個人總計捐款差不多有4000萬！
累計籌募捐款捐物超過一億元！
一次是秀，捐十萬是秀，
那麼11年的慈善，
幾乎傾家蕩產的捐款捐物，也能叫秀？！
2016年韓紅是明星慈善榜第一名
身正不怕影子斜
她說：“如果做公益是做秀，
有人為此罵她不要臉，
這麼醜還來蹭熱度，
她霸氣迴應：“我做公益十多年，
為了公益我從來就不要臉！”
欒樹韓紅
然而娛樂圈從不會放過任何一個人
即使沒有人質疑她的慈善了
輿論又開始關注她的私生活 When Paul Jobs was mustered out of the Coast Guard after World War II, he made a wager with his crewmates. They had arrived in San Francisco, where their ship was decommissioned, and Paul bet that he would find himself a wife within two weeks. He was a taut, tattooed engine mechanic, six feet tall, with a passing resemblance to James Dean. But it wasn’t his looks that got him a date with Clara Hagopian, a sweet-humored daughter of Armenian immigrants. It was the fact that he and his friends had a car, unlike the group she had originally planned to go out with that evening. Ten days later, in March 1946, Paul got engaged to Clara and won his wager. It would turn out to be a happy marriage, one that lasted until death parted them more than forty years later. Paul Reinhold Jobs had been raised on a dairy farm in Germantown, Wisconsin. Even though his father was an alcoholic and sometimes abusive, Paul ended up with a gentle and calm disposition under his leathery exterior. After dropping out of high school, he wandered through the Midwest picking up work as a mechanic until, at age nineteen, he joined the Coast Guard, even though he didn’t know how to swim. He was deployed on the USS General M. C. Meigs and spent much of the war ferrying troops to Italy for General Patton. His talent as a machinist and fireman earned him commendations, but he occasionally found himself in minor trouble and never rose above the rank of seaman. Clara was born in New Jersey, where her parents had landed after fleeing the Turks in Armenia, and they moved to the Mission District of San Francisco when she was a child. She had a secret that she rarely mentioned to anyone: She had been married before, but her husband had been killed in the war. So when she met Paul Jobs on that first date, she was primed to start a new life. Like many who lived through the war, they had experienced enough excitement that, when it was over, they desired simply to settle down, raise a family, and lead a less eventful life. They had little money, so they moved to Wisconsin and lived with Paul’s parents for a few years, then headed for Indiana, where he got a job as a machinist for International Harvester. His passion was tinkering with old cars, and he made money in his spare time buying, restoring, and selling them. Eventually he quit his day job to become a full-time used car salesman. Clara, however, loved San Francisco, and in 1952 she convinced her husband to move back there. They got an apartment in the Sunset District facing the Pacific, just south of Golden Gate Park, and he took a job working for a finance company as a “repo man,” picking the locks of cars whose owners hadn’t paid their loans and repossessing them. He also bought, repaired, and sold some of the cars, making a decent enough living in the process. There was, however, something missing in their lives. They wanted children, but Clara had suffered an ectopic pregnancy, in which the fertilized egg was implanted in a fallopian tube rather than the uterus, and she had been unable to have any. So by 1955, after nine years of marriage, they were looking to adopt a child. Like Paul Jobs, Joanne Schieble was from a rural Wisconsin family of German heritage. Her father, Arthur Schieble, had immigrated to the outskirts of Green Bay, where he and his wife owned a mink farm and dabbled successfully in various other businesses, including real estate and photoengraving. He was very strict, especially regarding his daughter’s relationships, and he had strongly disapproved of her first love, an artist who was not a Catholic. Thus it was no surprise that he threatened to cut Joanne off completely when, as a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin, she fell in love with Abdulfattah “John” Jandali, a Muslim teaching assistant from Syria. Jandali was the youngest of nine children in a prominent Syrian family. His father owned oil refineries and multiple other businesses, with large holdings in Damascus and Homs, and at one point pretty much controlled the price of wheat in the region. His mother, he later said, was a “traditional Muslim woman” who was a “conservative, obedient housewife.” Like the Schieble family, the Jandalis put a premium on education. Abdulfattah was sent to a Jesuit boarding school, even though he was Muslim, and he got an undergraduate degree at the American University in Beirut before entering the University of Wisconsin to pursue a doctoral degree in political science. In the summer of 1954, Joanne went with Abdulfattah to Syria. They spent two months in Homs, where she learned from his family to cook Syrian dishes. When they returned to Wisconsin she discovered that she was pregnant. They were both twenty-three, but they decided not to get married. Her father was dying at the time, and he had threatened to disown her if she wed Abdulfattah. Nor was abortion an easy option in a small Catholic community. So in early 1955, Joanne traveled to San Francisco, where she was taken into the care of a kindly doctor who sheltered unwed mothers, delivered their babies, and quietly arranged closed adoptions. Joanne had one requirement: Her child must be adopted by college graduates. So the doctor arranged for the baby to be placed with a lawyer and his wife. But when a boy was born—on February 24, 1955—the designated couple decided that they wanted a girl and backed out. Thus it was that the boy became the son not of a lawyer but of a high school dropout with a passion for mechanics and his salt-of-the-earth wife who was working as a bookkeeper. Paul and Clara named their new baby Steven Paul Jobs. When Joanne found out that her baby had been placed with a couple who had not even graduated from high school, she refused to sign the adoption papers. The standoff lasted weeks, even after the baby had settled into the Jobs household. Eventually Joanne relented, with the stipulation that the couple promise—indeed sign a pledge—to fund a savings account to pay for the boy’s college education. There was another reason that Joanne was balky about signing the adoption papers. Her father was about to die, and she planned to marry Jandali soon after. She held out hope, she would later tell family members, sometimes tearing up at the memory, that once they were married, she could get their baby boy back. Arthur Schieble died in August 1955, after the adoption was finalized. Just after Christmas that year, Joanne and Abdulfattah were married in St. Philip the Apostle Catholic Church in Green Bay. He got his PhD in international politics the next year, and then they had another child, a girl named Mona. After she and Jandali divorced in 1962, Joanne embarked on a dreamy and peripatetic life that her daughter, who grew up to become the acclaimed novelist Mona Simpson, would capture in her book Anywhere but Here. Because Steve’s adoption had been closed, it would be twenty years before they would all find each other. Steve Jobs knew from an early age that he was adopted. “My parents were very open with me about that,” he recalled. He had a vivid memory of sitting on the lawn of his house, when he was six or seven years old, telling the girl who lived across the street. “So does that mean your real parents didn’t want you?” the girl asked. “Lightning bolts went off in my head,” according to Jobs. “I remember running into the house, crying. And my parents said, ‘No, you have to understand.’ They were very serious and looked me straight in the eye. They said, ‘We specifically picked you out.’ Both of my parents said that and repeated it slowly for me. And they put an emphasis on every word in that sentence.” Abandoned. Chosen. Special. Those concepts became part of who Jobs was and how he regarded himself. His closest friends think that the knowledge that he was given up at birth left some scars. “I think his desire for complete control of whatever he makes derives directly from his personality and the fact that he was abandoned at birth,” said one longtime colleague, Del Yocam. “He wants to control his environment, and he sees the product as an extension of himself.” Greg Calhoun, who became close to Jobs right after college, saw another effect. “Steve talked to me a lot about being abandoned and the pain that caused,” he said. “It made him independent. He followed the beat of a different drummer, and that came from being in a different world than he was born into.” Later in life, when he was the same age his biological father had been when he abandoned him, Jobs would father and abandon a child of his own. (He eventually took responsibility for her.) Chrisann Brennan, the mother of that child, said that being put up for adoption left Jobs “full of broken glass,” and it helps to explain some of his behavior. “He who is abandoned is an abandoner,” she said. Andy Hertzfeld, who worked with Jobs at Apple in the early 1980s, is among the few who remained close to both Brennan and Jobs. “The key question about Steve is why he can’t control himself at times from being so reflexively cruel and harmful to some people,” he said. “That goes back to being abandoned at birth. The real underlying problem was the theme of abandonment in Steve’s life.” Jobs dismissed this. “There’s some notion that because I was abandoned, I worked very hard so I could do well and make my parents wish they had me back, or some such nonsense, but that’s ridiculous,” he insisted. “Knowing I was adopted may have made me feel more independent, but I have never felt abandoned. I’ve always felt special. My parents made me feel special.” He would later bristle whenever anyone referred to Paul and Clara Jobs as his “adoptive” parents or implied that they were not his “real” parents. “They were my parents 1,000%,” he said. When speaking about his biological parents, on the other hand, he was curt: “They were my sperm and egg bank. That’s not harsh, it’s just the way it was, a sperm bank thing, nothing more.” Silicon Valley The childhood that Paul and Clara Jobs created for their new son was, in many ways, a stereotype of the late 1950s. When Steve was two they adopted a girl they named Patty, and three years later they moved to a tract house in the suburbs. The finance company where Paul worked as a repo man, CIT, had transferred him down to its Palo Alto office, but he could not afford to live there, so they landed in a subdivision in Mountain View, a less expensive town just to the south. There Paul tried to pass along his love of mechanics and cars. “Steve, this is your workbench now,” he said as he marked off a section of the table in their garage. Jobs remembered being impressed by his father’s focus on craftsmanship. “I thought my dad’s sense of design was pretty good,” he said, “because he knew how to build anything. If we needed a cabinet, he would build it. When he built our fence, he gave me a hammer so I could work with him.” Fifty years later the fence still surrounds the back and side yards of the house in Mountain View. As Jobs showed it off to me, he caressed the stockade panels and recalled a lesson that his father implanted deeply in him. It was important, his father said, to craft the backs of cabinets and fences properly, even though they were hidden. “He loved doing things right. He even cared about the look of the parts you couldn’t see.” His father continued to refurbish and resell used cars, and he festooned the garage with pictures of his favorites. He would point out the detailing of the design to his son: the lines, the vents, the chrome, the trim of the seats. After work each day, he would change into his dungarees and retreat to the garage, often with Steve tagging along. “I figured I could get him nailed down with a little mechanical ability, but he really wasn’t interested in getting his hands dirty,” Paul later recalled. “He never really cared too much about mechanical things.” “I wasn’t that into fixing cars,” Jobs admitted. “But I was eager to hang out with my dad.” Even as he was growing more aware that he had been adopted, he was becoming more attached to his father. One day when he was about eight, he discovered a photograph of his father from his time in the Coast Guard. “He’s in the engine room, and he’s got his shirt off and looks like James Dean. It was one of those Oh wow moments for a kid. Wow, oooh, my parents were actually once very young and really good-looking.” Through cars, his father gave Steve his first exposure to electronics. “My dad did not have a deep understanding of electronics, but he’d encountered it a lot in automobiles and other things he would fix. He showed me the rudiments of electronics, and I got very interested in that.” Even more interesting were the trips to scavenge for parts. “Every weekend, there’d be a junkyard trip. We’d be looking for a generator, a carburetor, all sorts of components.” He remembered watching his father negotiate at the counter. “He was a good bargainer, because he knew better than the guys at the counter what the parts should cost.” This helped fulfill the pledge his parents made when he was adopted. “My college fund came from my dad paying $50 for a Ford Falcon or some other beat-up car that didn’t run, working on it for a few weeks, and selling it for $250—and not telling the IRS.” The Jobses’ house and the others in their neighborhood were built by the real estate developer Joseph Eichler, whose company spawned more than eleven thousand homes in various California subdivisions between 1950 and 1974. Inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright’s vision of simple modern homes for the American “everyman,” Eichler built inexpensive houses that featured floor-to-ceiling glass walls, open floor plans, exposed post-and-beam construction, concrete slab floors, and lots of sliding glass doors. “Eichler did a great thing,” Jobs said on one of our walks around the neighborhood. “His houses were smart and cheap and good. They brought clean design and simple taste to lower-income people. They had awesome little features, like radiant heating in the floors. You put carpet on them, and we had nice toasty floors when we were kids.” Jobs said that his appreciation for Eichler homes instilled in him a passion for making nicely designed products for the mass market. “I love it when you can bring really great design and simple capability to something that doesn’t cost much,” he said as he pointed out the clean elegance of the houses. “It was the original vision for Apple. That’s what we tried to do with the first Mac. That’s what we did with the iPod.” Across the street from the Jobs family lived a man who had become successful as a real estate agent. “He wasn’t that bright,” Jobs recalled, “but he seemed to be making a fortune. So my dad thought, ‘I can do that.’ He worked so hard, I remember. He took these night classes, passed the license test, and got into real estate. Then the bottom fell out of the market.” As a result, the family found itself financially strapped for a year or so while Steve was in elementary school. His mother took a job as a bookkeeper for Varian Associates, a company that made scientific instruments, and they took out a second mortgage. One day his fourth-grade teacher asked him, “What is it you don’t understand about the universe?” Jobs replied, “I don’t understand why all of a sudden my dad is so broke.” He was proud that his father never adopted a servile attitude or slick style that may have made him a better salesman. “You had to suck up to people to sell real estate, and he wasn’t good at that and it wasn’t in his nature. I admired him for that.” Paul Jobs went back to being a mechanic. His father was calm and gentle, traits that his son later praised more than emulated. He was also resolute. Jobs described one example: Nearby was an engineer who was working at Westinghouse. He was a single guy, beatnik type. He had a girlfriend. She would babysit me sometimes. Both my parents worked, so I would come here right after school for a couple of hours. He would get drunk and hit her a couple of times. She came over one night, scared out of her wits, and he came over drunk, and my dad stood him down—saying “She’s here, but you’re not coming in.” He stood right there. We like to think everything was idyllic in the 1950s, but this guy was one of those engineers who had messed-up lives. What made the neighborhood different from the thousands of other spindly-tree subdivisions across America was that even the ne’er-do-wells tended to be engineers. “When we moved here, there were apricot and plum orchards on all of these corners,” Jobs recalled. “But it was beginning to boom because of military investment.” He soaked up the history of the valley and developed a yearning to play his own role. Edwin Land of Polaroid later told him about being asked by Eisenhower to help build the U-2 spy plane cameras to see how real the Soviet threat was. The film was dropped in canisters and returned to the NASA Ames Research Center in Sunnyvale, not far from where Jobs lived. “The first computer terminal I ever saw was when my dad brought me to the Ames Center,” he said. “I fell totally in love with it.” Other defense contractors sprouted nearby during the 1950s. The Lockheed Missiles and Space Division, which built submarine-launched ballistic missiles, was founded in 1956 next to the NASA Center; by the time Jobs moved to the area four years later, it employed twenty thousand people. A few hundred yards away, Westinghouse built facilities that produced tubes and electrical transformers for the missile systems. “You had all these military companies on the cutting edge,” he recalled. “It was mysterious and high-tech and made living here very exciting.” In the wake of the defense industries there arose a booming economy based on technology. Its roots stretched back to 1938, when David Packard and his new wife moved into a house in Palo Alto that had a shed where his friend Bill Hewlett was soon ensconced. The house had a garage—an appendage that would prove both useful and iconic in the valley—in which they tinkered around until they had their first product, an audio oscillator. By the 1950s, Hewlett-Packard was a fast-growing company making technical instruments. Fortunately there was a place nearby for entrepreneurs who had outgrown their garages. In a move that would help transform the area into the cradle of the tech revolution, Stanford University’s dean of engineering, Frederick Terman, created a seven-hundred-acre industrial park on university land for private companies that could commercialize the ideas of his students. Its first tenant was Varian Associates, where Clara Jobs worked. “Terman came up with this great idea that did more than anything to cause the tech industry to grow up here,” Jobs said. By the time Jobs was ten, HP had nine thousand employees and was the blue-chip company where every engineer seeking financial stability wanted to work. The most important technology for the region’s growth was, of course, the semiconductor. William Shockley, who had been one of the inventors of the transistor at Bell Labs in New Jersey, moved out to Mountain View and, in 1956, started a company to build transistors using silicon rather than the more expensive germanium that was then commonly used. But Shockley became increasingly erratic and abandoned his silicon transistor project, which led eight of his engineers—most notably Robert Noyce and Gordon Moore—to break away to form Fairchild Semiconductor. That company grew to twelve thousand employees, but it fragmented in 1968, when Noyce lost a power struggle to become CEO. He took Gordon Moore and founded a company that they called Integrated Electronics Corporation, which they soon smartly abbreviated to Intel. Their third employee was Andrew Grove, who later would grow the company by shifting its focus from memory chips to microprocessors. Within a few years there would be more than fifty companies in the area making semiconductors. The exponential growth of this industry was correlated with the phenomenon famously discovered by Moore, who in 1965 drew a graph of the speed of integrated circuits, based on the number of transistors that could be placed on a chip, and showed that it doubled about every two years, a trajectory that could be expected to continue. This was reaffirmed in 1971, when Intel was able to etch a complete central processing unit onto one chip, the Intel 4004, which was dubbed a “microprocessor.” Moore’s Law has held generally true to this day, and its reliable projection of performance to price allowed two generations of young entrepreneurs, including Steve Jobs and Bill Gates, to create cost projections for their forward-leaning products. The chip industry gave the region a new name when Don Hoefler, a columnist for the weekly trade paper Electronic News, began a series in January 1971 entitled “Silicon Valley USA.” The forty-mile Santa Clara Valley, which stretches from South San Francisco through Palo Alto to San Jose, has as its commercial backbone El Camino Real, the royal road that once connected California’s twenty-one mission churches and is now a bustling avenue that connects companies and startups accounting for a third of the venture capital investment in the United States each year. “Growing up, I got inspired by the history of the place,” Jobs said. “That made me want to be a part of it.” Like most kids, he became infused with the passions of the grown-ups around him. “Most of the dads in the neighborhood did really neat stuff, like photovoltaics and batteries and radar,” Jobs recalled. “I grew up in awe of that stuff and asking people about it.” The most important of these neighbors, Larry Lang, lived seven doors away. “He was my model of what an HP engineer was supposed to be: a big ham radio operator, hard-core electronics guy,” Jobs recalled. “He would bring me stuff to play with.” As we walked up to Lang’s old house, Jobs pointed to the driveway. “He took a carbon microphone and a battery and a speaker, and he put it on this driveway. He had me talk into the carbon mike and it amplified out of the speaker.” Jobs had been taught by his father that microphones always required an electronic amplifier. “So I raced home, and I told my dad that he was wrong.” “No, it needs an amplifier,” his father assured him. When Steve protested otherwise, his father said he was crazy. “It can’t work without an amplifier. There’s some trick.” “I kept saying no to my dad, telling him he had to see it, and finally he actually walked down with me and saw it. And he said, ‘Well I’ll be a bat out of hell.’” Jobs recalled the incident vividly because it was his first realization that his father did not know everything. Then a more disconcerting discovery began to dawn on him: He was smarter than his parents. He had always admired his father’s competence and savvy. “He was not an educated man, but I had always thought he was pretty damn smart. He didn’t read much, but he could do a lot. Almost everything mechanical, he could figure it out.” Yet the carbon microphone incident, Jobs said, began a jarring process of realizing that he was in fact more clever and quick than his parents. “It was a very big moment that’s burned into my mind. When I realized that I was smarter than my parents, I felt tremendous shame for having thought that. I will never forget that moment.” This discovery, he later told friends, along with the fact that he was adopted, made him feel apart—detached and separate—from both his family and the world. Another layer of awareness occurred soon after. Not only did he discover that he was brighter than his parents, but he discovered that they knew this. Paul and Clara Jobs were loving parents, and they were willing to adapt their lives to suit a son who was very smart—and also willful. They would go to great lengths to accommodate him. And soon Steve discovered this fact as well. “Both my parents got me. They felt a lot of responsibility once they sensed that I was special. They found ways to keep feeding me stuff and putting me in better schools. They were willing to defer to my needs.” So he grew up not only with a sense of having once been abandoned, but also with a sense that he was special. In his own mind, that was more important in the formation of his personality. School Even before Jobs started elementary school, his mother had taught him how to read. This, however, led to some problems once he got to school. “I was kind of bored for the first few years
網傳韓紅許志安圖片
兩段緋聞後，她再也沒有任何戀情，
而且至今未婚，
很多人又臆測她是不是有病，
還說她是同性戀，
可這背後的真實原因，卻讓人無比心酸！
她有個養子，名叫韓厚厚，
在1999年一次事故中，
他的父母在生命最後一刻，
將他高高舉起。
救援人員趕到時，
他在父親懷中安然無恙，
而他的父母，卻走了。
她知道這個事情後，
決定收養這個孩子，
《天亮了》就是為他創作的歌。
天亮了韓紅 - 醒了
而就在她收養了這個孩子以後，
又收到不少質疑聲，
有些人懷疑她在作秀，
以後有了自己的孩子，
還會對韓厚厚好嗎？
她抱著還是嬰兒的韓厚厚，
發誓說：
“我這輩子不會再有孩子了，
為了你我終身不嫁，
從此以後我就是你的媽媽。
現在她已經48歲，
為了信守諾言，
曾放棄兩次結婚的機會，
她說：“自己生不生我不遺憾，
我有好多孩子，200多個呢。”
這些都是她收養的孩子。
韓紅和韓厚厚
韓紅和孤兒
曾經，她的夢想是“唱死在舞臺上”，
現在，她決心“死在公益的路上”。
每次進山區做公益，她都坐第一輛車。
因為山區路不好走，
汽車總是撞山壁、遭遇坍塌，
但她總是衝在前面
“如果我過去了，
後面的車也會安全通過的，
如果前面發生危險，那麼死的是我，
不會讓你們死的。”
2008年汶川地震，
她所乘汽車在前往都江堰的途中，
與一輛運土貨車相撞，
車門被撞爛，車窗的玻璃也嚴重破損，
萬幸的是，車禍並沒有造成傷亡。
但後來的一次，就沒這麼幸運了。
她帶領車隊向舟曲災區運送過冬物資，
途中不慎撞上護欄發生側翻，
她受傷最為嚴重，
出現頭痛、站不穩等症狀，
肋骨處出現腫脹，
並帶有內出血的危險。
可因為事故發生在荒涼地帶，
無法就近送醫，
所以在簡單的處理後，
她強忍傷痛帶著車隊再次上路。
多年辛苦奔波，
遇到危險情況數不勝數，
她把自己捐窮了，身體也累垮了。
讓人感到心酸的是，她說，
曾因為檢查出心臟有病，
從那以後再也不敢到醫院去體檢，
她擔心自己一旦倒下，
公益事業難以繼續下去。
朋友曾多次勸她停一停，
好好享受一下生活，
她婉言拒絕：
“我能維持每天的一粥一飯就夠了，
即便賺來錢我也會投入到慈善中。”
她所謂的一粥一飯，
就是饅頭蘸著辣醬，再配上一碗清粥。
她說：
“我一直不是一個很聰明的人，
很憨很傻，一路跌跌撞撞走到今天。
我不說謊，不作假，不虛偽，
我用我的良心一點一點摸爬滾打。
有人說我很笨很傻，
很容易就可以賺到我的便宜，
我告訴他們，
我笨就有我笨的作為，
我做公益，沒有結果，沒有答案，
所以最終的答案更接近天意。”
沒有翅膀也要飛翔韓紅 - 空
月濺星河，長路漫漫，
風煙殘盡，獨影闌珊，
她是一個曾被拋棄的孩子，
可她卻願意把溫暖帶給這個世界，
她曾經被人誹謗嘲笑，
卻把所有的愛給了需要她的人們。
不追名逐利，看淡生死，不求回報，
她唯一的心願就是：“如果有下輩子，
奶奶還是我的奶奶。”
小編忽然想起一位母親寫給孩子的信：
“願你有好運氣，如果沒有，
願你在不幸中學會慈悲。
願你被很多人愛，如果沒有，
願你在寂寞中學會寬容。”
今天，讓我們一起，
向一生為慈善獻身的韓紅，
致以無限的尊敬，
你才是真正值得追的明星！