The oxidizing agent in a chemical reaction is the substance…

Questions

The оxidizing аgent in а chemicаl reactiоn is the substance that is being reduced.

The оxidizing аgent in а chemicаl reactiоn is the substance that is being reduced.

The оxidizing аgent in а chemicаl reactiоn is the substance that is being reduced.

The оxidizing аgent in а chemicаl reactiоn is the substance that is being reduced.

McClellаnd’s Need Theоry

Questiоns 20 - 30 аre bаsed оn the fоllowing pаssage. Make Them Laugh        Aside from its smooth concrete floors, Cirque du Soleil’s Montreal headquarters look a lot like the offices of just about any multinational. Suddenly, a Chinese boy with shiny black hair bursts through a heavy metal door, pushing a larger-than-life bronze-colored ball. No one bats an eye as he passes through the reception area and out of sight. It’s just a regular business day for the employees of the world’s fastest-growing circus.        Every weekend this year, on stages around the world, 50,000 people will pay between $50 (for seats tucked to the back and side of the stage) and $230 (for VIP seats including hors d’oeuvres and refreshments) to be wowed by the Cirque du Soleil’s acrobats and contortionists. More than 23 million people worldwide have seen the circus perform since it was founded in 1984, either under the big top or in one of its four permanent theaters in the US. With sales expected to hit $420 million this year–and estimated profit margins of 15% to 20% – the Cirque is now hot on the heels of the much older, self-proclaimed "Greatest Show on Earth," the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, which has estimated annual revenue of US$500 million.        That’s big money under the big top – enough, in fact, to catapult the Cirque’s two cofounders, Guy Laliberté, 40, and Daniel Gauthier, 41, onto this year’s Canadian Business Rich 100 for the first time (No. 74 and No. 75). Given the Cirque’s incredible growth over the past few years, entertainment analysts widely agree the company should be valued using a multiple of two times annual sales. That means the circus is worth at least $800 million–and Laliberté and Gauthier, who each hold 50%, about $400 million apiece.        Today, the Cirque has more than 2,000 employees – 500 of them performers – and seven productions playing on three continents. For decades, North American circus audiences were treated to the standard fare of elephants, lion tamers and horn-honking clowns. Cirque du Soleil took that tradition and turned it on its head. Part opera, part dance, part circus, it mixes humor and eerie imagery with live music, pyrotechnics and mind- boggling choreography.        How Cirque du Soleil evolved from a bunch of unemployed kids trying to turn a buck on street corners into Quebec’s second-largest cultural export after Céline Dion is the stuff of provincial legend. Laliberté and Gauthier grew up together in St-Bruno, a small town 200 kilometers north of Quebec City, but took very different paths before reuniting several years later as business partners.        Laliberté, the son of a nurse and an Alcan Aluminum vice-president, struck out on his own at 14 to busk with his accordion. Gripped by the idea of life as a street performer, he was drawn to the city of sidewalk showmen, Paris. In cobblestoned alleyways and around major tourist attractions, he lived hand-to-mouth, honing his newfound skills: fire eating and stilt walking. Eventually, he decided to return to Quebec, taking a job at a youth hostel in Baie-St-Paul, northeast of Quebec City. There, he met Gilles St. Croix, the Cirque du Soleil’s current creative director. The two stilt-walkers formed Le Club des Talons Hauts (High Heels Club) and set off on the busking festival circuit.        As the story goes, René Lévesque, then premier of Quebec, took in one of their shows and was hooked. In 1984, with the 450th anniversary of explorer Jacques Cartier’s arrival in Canada approaching, he gave $1.5 million to the performers to form Cirque du Soleil and take the show on tour around the province.        Meanwhile, while his childhood friend was off in Europe breathing flames, Gauthier was studying computers. When Laliberté was offered government money, Gauthier was working as a computer programmer and running his own small company. He happily abandoned his company to run away and build the circus. Although the government grants continued for five years, under Gauthier the Cirque quickly picked up sponsors. By 1989 provincial subsidies accounted for only 4% of its total budget, down from 97% in its first year.        Early setbacks left little time for clowning around. In order to expand in the late 1980s, the Cirque took on heavy debt. Then it had a streak of disastrous shows in Toronto and Niagara Falls. By 1987, Laliberté and Gauthier decided it was time to go for broke. They trucked the circus to the Los Angeles Arts Festival and spent their last $1 million mounting a media blitz to drum up curiosity about the show. If it bombed, they wouldn’t even have enough gas money to return home.        Cirque du Soleil became the toast of the critics and the buzz at Hollywood parties. Celebrities loved it. It became the "in thing" to be seen at a Cirque performance. Appearances by stars such as David Bowie, Sylvester Stallone, Barbara Streisand and Madonna only stoked the public’s curiosity.        The rest is history. "We were bums with a sense of business," Gauthier told a reporter in 1994. "We’re still bums with a sense of business – with more contracts, more experience and with more of a view of big business." One thing is almost certain: the sun won’t be setting on this circus anytime soon. Where do you sit if you pay $50 for a ticket?