text:
ANN RADCLIFFE (née WARD; 9 July 1764 – 7 February 1823) was an English author and the pioneer of Gothic fiction. Her technique of explaining apparently supernatural elements in her novels has been credited with gaining Gothic fiction respectability in the 1790s.[1] Radcliffe was the most popular writer of her day and almost universally admired; contemporary critics called her the mighty enchantress and the Shakespeare of romance-writers, and her popularity continued through the 19th century.[2] Interest has revived in the early 21st century, with the publication of paperback reprints and three biographies.[3]

Biography

Radcliffe was born Ann Ward in Holborn, London, on 9 July 1764. Her father was William Ward (1737–1798), a haberdasher, who moved the family to Bath to manage a china shop in 1772. Her mother was Ann Oates (1726–1800) of Chesterfield.[4] Radcliffe occasionally lived in Chelsea with her maternal uncle, Thomas Bentley, who was in partnership with a fellow Unitarian, Josiah Wedgwood, maker of the famous Wedgwood china. Sukey, Wedgwood's daughter, also stayed in Chelsea and is Radcliffe's only known childhood companion. Sukey later married Dr Robert Darwin and had a son, Charles Darwin. Although mixing in some distinguished circles, Radcliffe seems to have made little impression in this society and was described by Wedgwood as “Bentley's shy niece”.[5]

In 1787, Ward married the Oxford graduate and journalist William Radcliffe (1763–1830), part-owner and editor of the _English Chronicle_. He often came home late, and to occupy her time she began to write and to read her work to him when he returned. Theirs was a childless but seemingly happy marriage. Radcliffe called him her “nearest relative and friend”.[6] The money she earned from her novels later allowed them to travel together, along with their dog, Chance. In her final years, Radcliffe retreated from public life and was rumoured to have become insane as a result of her writing.[7] These rumours arose because Radcliffe just stopped writing after publishing her five novels, though the last three were very successful. She remained secluded for 26 years, with no real explanation available to her many fans.[8]

Ann died on 7 February 1823 and was buried in a vault in the Chapel of Ease at St George's, Hanover Square, London. Although she had suffered from asthma for twelve years previously,[9] her modern biographer, Rictor Norton, cites the description given by her physician, Dr Scudamore, of how “a new inflammation seized the membranes of the brain,” which led to “violent symptoms” and argues that they suggest a “bronchial infection, leading to pneumonia, high fever, delirium and death.”[10]

There are few artefacts or manuscripts that give insight into Radcliffe's personal life, but in 2014 a rare letter from Radcliffe to her mother-in-law was found in an archive at the British Library. Its tone suggests a strained relationship between the two, which may have inspired the relationship between Ellena Rosalba and the Marchesa di Vivaldi in her novel _The Italian_.[11]

Little is known of Ann Radcliffe's life. In 1823, the year of her death, the _Edinburgh Review_ said, “She never appeared in public, nor mingled in private society, but kept herself apart, like the sweet bird that sings its solitary notes, shrouded and unseen.”[12]

Shortly after her death, _Gaston de Blondeville_ was published for Henry Colburn, featuring _A Memoir for the Authoress_, the first known biographical piece on Radcliffe.[13]

Christina Rossetti attempted to write a biography of Radcliffe in 1883, but abandoned it for lack of information. For 50 years biographers stayed away from her as a subject, agreeing with Rossetti's estimation. Rictor _[sic]_ Norton, author of _Mistress of Udolpho: The Life of Ann Radcliffe_ (1999), argues that those 50 years were “dominated by interpretation rather than scholarship” where information (specifically on her rumoured madness) was repeated rather than traced to a reliable source.[14]

According to Ruth Facer, “Physically, she was said to be 'exquisitely proportioned' – quite short, complexion beautiful – 'as was her whole countenance, especially her eyes, eyebrows and mouth.'”[15]

Literary life

Radcliffe published five novels during her lifetime, which she always referred to as “romances”; a final novel, _Gaston de Blondeville_ was published posthumously in 1826. At a time when the average amount earned by an author for a manuscript was £10, her publishers, G. G. and J. Robinson, bought the copyright for _The Mysteries of Udolpho_ (1794) for £500, while Cadell and Davies paid £800 for _The Italian_ (1797), making Radcliffe the highest-paid professional writer of the 1790s.[16] Her first successful novel was _Romance of the Forest_ (1791).

Ann Radcliffe led a retired life and never visited the countries where the fearful happenings in her novels took place. Her only journey abroad, to Holland and Germany, was made in 1794 after most of her books were written. The journey was described in her _A Journey Made in the Summer of 1794_ (1795).[17]

Jane Austen parodied _The Mysteries of Udolpho_ in _Northanger Abbey_. Radcliffe did not like the direction in which Gothic literature was heading – one of her later novels, _The Italian_, was written in response to Matthew Gregory Lewis's _The Monk_. Radcliffe portrayed her female characters as equal to male characters, allowing them to dominate and overtake the typically powerful male villains and heroes, creating new roles for women in literature previously not available.[18] It is assumed that this frustration is what caused Radcliffe to cease writing. After Radcliffe's death, her husband released her unfinished essay “On the Supernatural in Poetry”, which details the difference between the sensation of _terror_ her works aimed to achieve and the _horror_ Lewis sought to evoke.[19] Radcliffe stated that terror aims to stimulate readers through imagination and perceived evils while horror closes them off through fear and physical dangers.[20] “Terror and Horror are so far opposite, that the first expands the soul and awakens the faculties to a high degree of life; the other contracts, freezes and nearly annihilates them.”[21]

Radcliffe was unique in that she was known for including supernatural elements but eventually giving readers a rational explanation for the supernatural. Usually, Radcliffe would reveal the logical excuse for what first appeared to be supernatural towards the end of her novels, which led to heightened suspense. Some critics/readers found this disappointing and felt duped. “Perhaps the most eloquent complaint against the trope was penned by Walter Scott in his Lives of the Novelists (1821–1824). Regarding Radcliffe’s penchant, he writes: “A stealthy step behind the arras may, doubtless, in some situations, and when the nerves are tuned to a certain pitch, have no small influence upon the imagination; but if the conscious listener discovers it to be only the noise made by the cat, the solemnity of the feeling is gone, and the visionary is at once angry with his sense for having been cheated, and with his reason for having acquiesced in the deception.”[22] Some modern critics have been frustrated by her work, as she fails to include “real ghosts”. This could be motivated by the idea that works in the Romantic period, from the late 18th century to the mid-19th century, had to undermine Enlightenment values such as rationalism and realism.[23]

Accusations of anti-Catholicism

Ann Radcliffe's works are traditionally regarded as anti-Catholic. She was seen as one of the Gothic authors that brought this prejudice more into the public eye of Anglican England.[24] Her works, especially _The Italian_, often have Catholic ideas presented in a negative light, including prejudices in the Inquisition, negative depictions of convents and nuns, monks as villains, and ruined abbeys. The confessional is often portrayed as a danger zone controlled by the power of the priest and the church.[25] _The Italian_ and _The Mysteries of Udolpho_ are both set in Italy, a land historically predisposed towards Catholicism and against Protestantism. Radcliffe's works would have left her contemporary readers with an impression of Catholicism as something ultimately cruel and corrupt, and of the author as alienated from the denomination and its practitioners.[26]

It has been suggested that this connection with anti-Catholicism was at least partly a response to the Catholic Relief Act of 1791, allowing Catholics to practise law, open Catholic schools and exercise their religion.[27]

Some think she was ultimately ambivalent toward Catholicism and more of an Latitudinarian Anglican,[28] or even Unitarian.[29]

Art connection

Radcliffe's elaborate descriptions of landscape were influenced by the painters Claude Lorrain and Salvator Rosa. She often wrote about places she had never visited. Lorrain's influence can be seen through Radcliffe's picturesque, romantic descriptions, as seen in the first volume of _The Mysteries of Udolpho_. Rosa's influence can be seen through dark landscapes and elements of the Gothic.

Radcliffe said of Lorrain:[30]

Novels

-   _The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne_ (1 vol.) 1789
-   _A Sicilian Romance_ (2 vols) 1790
-   _The Romance of the Forest_ (3 vols) 1791
-   _The Mysteries of Udolpho_ (4 vols) 1794
-   _The Italian_ (3 vols) 1797
-   _Gaston de Blondeville_ (4 vols) 1826

Gothic landscapes

Radcliffe used the framing narrative of personifying nature in many of her novels. For example, she believed that the sublime motivated the protagonist to create an image that was more idealistic within the plot.[31]

Influence on later writers

Radcliffe influenced many later authors, both by inspiring more Gothic fiction and by inspiring parodies. In the eighteenth century, she inspired writers like Matthew Lewis (1775 – 1818) and the Marquis de Sade (1740–1814), who praised her work but produced more intensely violent fiction. Radcliffe was famous for having spawned a large number of lesser imitators of the “Radcliffe School”, such as Harriet Lee and Catherine Cuthbertson. Jane Austen (1775 – 1817) defined her fiction as a contrast to Radcliffe and writers like her, especially in _Northanger Abbey_ (1817), Austen's parody of _The Mysteries of Udolpho_. Scholars have also noted a number of other apparent allusions to Radcliffe's novels and life in Austen's work.[32]

In the early nineteenth century, Radcliffe influenced Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849), and Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832). For example, Scott interspersed his work with poems in a similar manner to Radcliffe, and one assessment of her reads, “Scott himself said that her prose was poetry and her poetry was prose. She was, indeed, a prose poet, in both the best and the worst senses of the phrase. The romantic landscape, the background, is the best thing in all her books; the characters are two dimensional, the plots far fetched and improbable, with 'elaboration of means and futility of result'.”[33]

Radcliffe was also admired by French authors like Honoré de Balzac (1799 – 1850), Victor Hugo (1802 – 1885), Alexandre Dumas (1802 – 1870), and Charles Baudelaire (1821 – 1867).[34] Honoré de Balzac's novel of the supernatural _L'Héritière de Birague_ (1822) follows the tradition of Radcliffe's style and parodies it.[35]

As a child the young Fyodor Dostoyevsky was deeply impressed by Radcliffe. In _Winter Notes on Summer Impressions_ (1863) he writes, “I used to spend the long winter hours before bed listening (for I could not yet read), agape with ecstasy and terror, as my parents read aloud to me from the novels of Ann Radcliffe. Then I would rave deliriously about them in my sleep.” A number of scholars have noted elements of Gothic literature in Dostoyevsky's novels,[36] and some have tried to show direct influence of Radcliffe's work.[37]

In 1875, Paul Féval wrote a story starring Radcliffe as a vampire hunter, titled _La Ville Vampire: Adventure Incroyable de Madame Anne Radcliffe_ (“City of Vampires: The Incredible Adventure of Mrs. Anne Radcliffe”), which blends fiction and history.[38] At the last minute a mysterious man on a white horse saves the day, none other than Lord Wellington fresh from the Battle of Waterloo.

Film reference

Helen McCrory plays Ann Radcliffe in the 2007 film _Becoming Jane_, starring Anne Hathaway as Jane Austen. The film depicts Radcliffe as meeting the young Jane Austen and encouraging her to pursue a literary career. No evidence exists that such a meeting ever occurred.

[1] The British Library Retrieved 12 November 2016.

[2]

[3] Chawton House Library: Ruth Facer, “Ann Radcliffe (1764–1823)”, retrieved 1 December 2012.

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11] Alison Flood, Gothic fiction pioneer Ann Radcliffe may have been inspired by mother-in-law, _The Guardian_, 30 January 2014.

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]  English author |website=Encyclopedia Britannica |language=en |access-date=8 May 2019}}

[18] Pourteau, Leslie Katherine. “'The Pride of Conscious Worth': Characterization of the Female in the Novels of Ann Radcliffe.” _Texas A&M University_, ProQuest Dissertations Publishing, 1997, pp. 1–9.

[19]

[20] Eighteenth Century Lit, Ann Radcliffe's Gothic, The Mysteries of Udolpho: Discover the secrets within....

[21]

[22]

[23]

[24]

[25]

[26]

[27]

[28]

[29]

[30]

[31]

[32] William Baker, _Critical Companion to Jane Austen: A Literary Reference to Her Life and Work_ (Facts on File, 2007); see entry on Radcliffe, p. 578.

[33] Stanley Kunitz and Howard Haycraft, eds, _British Authors Before 1800: A Biographical Dictionary_ (NY: H. W. Wilson, 1952), p. 427.

[34]

[35] Samuel Rogers, _Balzac and the Novel_ (Octagon Books, 1969), p. 21.

[36]

[37]

[38]

title: Ann Radcliffe

question: What does the text say about Radcliffe's novels?

answer: Radcliffe published five novels during her lifetime, which she always referred to as “romances”: The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne (1789), A Sicilian Romance (1790), The Romance of the Forest (1791), The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794), and The Italian (1797). A final novel, Gaston de Blondeville, was published posthumously in 1826. The Italian and The Mysteries of Udolpho are set in Italy, the latter of which contains picturesque descriptions inspired by Claude Lorrain's art. The Italian was written in response to Matthew Gregory Lewis's novel The Monk. The Mysteries of Udolpho is parodied in Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey.

question: What does the text say about genre?

answer: Ann Radcliffe was a pioneer of the gothic genre of fiction in the late eighteenth century. Radcliffe was unique in that she was known for including supernatural elements but eventually giving readers a rational explanation for the supernatural. She described her goal as to evoke terror rather than horror, with the difference being that terror aims to stimulate readers through imagination and perceived evils while horror closes them off through fear and physical dangers.

question: What does the text say about Catherine Morland?


split: test

text:
Brian O’Roak considers himself a Tesla fan. Three years ago, the Oregon-based genetics researcher stood in line with a six-week-old baby in his arms to place a deposit for the Model 3. So when CEO Elon Musk announced in late February that the carmaker would finally start delivering its more affordable Standard and Standard Plus Model 3 options, O’Roak at first ordered a Standard Plus, paying $3,000 extra for the electric carmaker’s semi-automated Autopilot feature. Right before delivery, Tesla salespeople convinced him to upgrade and spend another $1,000 for a reduced-price Mid-Range; Tesla delivered the car last month.

So when Tesla announced late Thursday that it would once again change its pricing and packaging scheme, and remove the $35,000 “affordable” Tesla from its online ordering forms, O’Roak was annoyed. “Hearing the announcement, I guess I was pretty frustrated and upset,” he says. “I feel like we were lied to at the end of February. It doesn’t seem like there was a standard model.” He estimates he might have saved between $2,000 and $4,000 by ordering now and receiving the feature package he wanted. His family likes the Model 3 so far—delivery was smooth, the local service center impressively responsive, and the kids, especially, love fart mode. But the shifting prices and feature packages have eroded O’Roak’s trust in Tesla. “We haven't even made a car payment yet,” he says.

A Tesla spokesperson did not respond to a request for comment about the pricing changes. But in response to a customer’s Twitter complaint, Musk wrote, “Other automakers change prices constantly & substantially by varying rebates & discounts according to negotiating strength of buyer. Tesla is transparent & consistent.”

For years, the electric carmaker’s flexibility has been a boon and a point of pride—a demonstration of how an innovative, data-based, and direct-sales approach can change the carmaking game. “Tesla is very nimble, and they can change their pricing plans to meet what best serves their customers based on feedback,” says Karl Brauer, the executive publisher of automotive research publication Kelley Blue Book. “If they see increased demand for one vehicle or one configuration, they can change the package pricing. That’s good.”

But for even dedicated customers like O’Roak—those who believe in the car company's mission of slowing climate change, saving the world, and having a hell of a good time doing it—the constant changes, which have accelerated since the introduction of the Model S, can be a bit much. Kelley Blue Book’s Brauer suspects some buyers “are hesitant because they see that inconsistency with the pricing and model approach. It seems like every week there's a new plan.”

To wit: Tesla discontinued the Mid-Range Model 3 just two days before O’Roak’s was delivered. The price of the Model 3 Standard Range Plus, introduced at the end of February, went up by $500 less than a month later, then up again by $2,000 less than a month after that. (The price bump, however, comes with some extra feature goodness: Autopilot, which once cost $3,000 to add on, is now standard.) Meanwhile, the much-hyped $35,000 Standard Range Model 3, introduced in 2016 as Tesla’s entrée into the mass market, is now available only if customers call or go into a showroom.

And those showrooms? In late February, Musk said Tesla would close nearly all of its brick-and-mortar stores and lay off sales staff to move to online ordering only. Less than two weeks later, the automaker reversed course, raising vehicle prices by 3 percent to avert closing half of the stories it intended to.

It’s enough to make you want to break out a spreadsheet. In fact, a few online Tesla observers have.

These pricing changes and shifts in strategy are not standard for the automotive industry, says Michael Ramsey, an automotive analyst with the research firm Gartner. “Every other car company in the world does not sell cars to you and me,” he says. “They sell cars to dealers, who change prices on a moment by moment basis. But the manufacturer is not setting the price—it’s the dealer who sets the price.” That’s why Tesla’s price changes are “really unusual, and irritating to customers who had already purchased their cars for more money,” he says.

question: What are Brian O'Roak's overall feelings towards Tesla?

answer: Whilst he is a dedicated customer he is annoyed.

question: Why is Tesla making people annoyed?

answer: Because of the constant strategy changes and inconsistency with pricing.

question: What has Musk said about these changes?

answer: He said that other automakers also change prices constantly.

question: How can you get the Standard Range Model 3?

answer: Only if you call or go into a showroom.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The article describes Brian O'Roak's experience with buying a Tesla Standard Model and uses his story as an example to make a point of Tesla being inconsistent with pricing and strategy.


text:
After pairing two of the most acclaimed stars in contemporary R&B on Juneteenth, Verzuz returned to its rap roots, as Jadakiss and Fabolous went heads up to see whose catalog reigns supreme. While the event between the two — who joined forces for the highly-anticipated and critically acclaimed joint-album, Friday on Elm Street, in 2017 — was undoubtedly friendly and laced with compliments throughout the battle, there was no question that each came with the intent to outlast the other and walk away the victor.

With both having released their debut solo albums in 2001, Jadakiss and Fabolous' trajectories within the rap game have been eerily similar. While Jadakiss spent the latter half of the '90s as a key cog in the Bad Boy Records machine as a member of The LOX, Fabolous bided his time dominating the mixtape circuit under the guiding hand of DJ Clue, who helped him secure a record deal through his imprint, Desert Storm. Throughout the aughts, both artists matched their commercial success with standout showings alongside other rap and R&B artists and on the mixtape circuit, building reputations as elite wordsmiths. Today, both continue to churn out material and are regarded as OG's in the game, with resumes that place them on the list of the greatest rappers of all-time.

As two of the greatest rappers out of New York to ever pick up a mic, and with their willingness to perform and compete out of love for the culture, it was a given that Freddy and Jason face off in a Verzuz matchup to see whose lyrical sword cuts the deepest, once and for all. Aside from minor technical difficulties during the tail-end of the battle, this edition of the Instagram Live event continued the seamlessness of previous battles, with Jada and Fab proving that R&B and gospel artists aren't the only ones who know how to put on a show in an effective fashion.

In this matchup, Jadakiss went first for the first ten rounds, with Fabolous responding with his own selection, before switching the rotation for the final ten rounds, with Jadakiss answering with a song of his own. The evening, which included backstories behind each artist’s most popular records, friendly, albeit competitive banter, and countless trips down memory lane for the viewers and those commenting in the chat, is one that rap fans will remember for quite some time and is a testament to Fab and Jada’s staying power and music contributions to the culture. Here’s a round-by-round breakdown and recap of the Verzuz battle between Jadakiss and Fabolous, along with who we felt walked away as the victor when all was said and done.

ROUND 1: DMX feat. The LOX & Jay-Z's "Blackout" vs. Lil Wayne feat. Fabolous & Juelz Santana's "You Ain't Got Nuthin'"

Jadakiss wastes no time throwing down the gauntlet, as he lets off his verse from "Blackout," his collaborative effort with his LOX brethren, JAY-Z, and DMX, from the latter's 1998 LP, Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood. In return, Fabolous contests Kiss' opening pitch with a freestyle, which ultimately pales in comparison to Kiss' memorable posse-cut

Winner: Jadakiss

ROUND 2: The LOX's "Recognize" vs. Cassidy feat. Lil Wayne & Fabolous' "6 Minutes" DMX feat. The LOX & Jay-Z's "Blackout" vs. Lil Wayne feat. Fabolous & Juelz Santana's "You Ain't Got Nuthin'"

Sticking to the Ruff Ryders era of his career, the raspy one comes through with "Recognize," the standout, DJ Premier-produced cut off The LOX's sophomore LP, We Are the Streets. From there, Loso draws another lyrical miracle out the deck via "6 Minutes of Death," his scorching showing alongside Lil Wayne and Cassidy from Cass' I'm A Hustla album, which lands with impact, but falls short of a deafening blow in this matchup.

Winner: Jadakiss

ROUND 3: Nas feat. Jadakiss & Ludacris' "Made You Look (Remix)" vs. Lloyd Banks feat. Fabolous, Kanye West, Swizz Beatz & Ryan Leslie's "Start It Up"

Having captured the momentum early on, Jada continues to run up the score by tossing Nas' "Made You Look (Remix)" out on the table. Fabolous makes a valiant attempt to put some numbers on the board with Lloyd Banks' 2010 single "Start It Up," and although the track itself is a certified street banger, it's no challenge for one of the most memorable remixes of the early aughts.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 4: Jadakiss' "By Your Side" vs. Fabolous feat. P. Diddy & Jagged Edge's "Trade It All Pt. 2"

Having secured the first few rounds in convincing fashion, Al Qaeda Jada lets his foot off the gas, throwing out one of his more beloved deep cuts, "By Your Side," from his sophomore LP, Kiss of Death. His back against the ropes, the captain of the Street Family resorts to his grab-bag of hits, pulling out the Jagged Edge and Diddy-assisted summer smash, "Trade It All Pt. 2," giving the Brooklyn Don his first round of the bout.

WINNER: Fabolous

ROUND 5: The LOX's "All For the Love" vs. Fabolous feat. Kobe's "Imma Do It"

Faltering a bit in the previous round, Jadakiss returns fire with his solo selection from The LOX's '98 debut, Money, Power, & Respect, which Fabolous ironically jacked for his Friday Night Freestyles series, five years ago. In turn, Fabolous fails to regroup, misfiring with "Imma Do It," an underwhelming offering from his Loso's Way album, accounting for one of the more lopsided rounds in this edition of #Verzuz

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 6: The LOX's "Chest 2 Chest Freestyle" vs. Fabolous' "Keepin' It Gangsta"

Jadakiss goes out of the confines of the rules a bit by unleashing a vintage freestyle over Showbiz & A.G.'s "Next Level (Nyte Tyme Mix)," which pairs his bars with DJ Premier's sonic craftsmanship. While a strong selection in its own right, it gets outgunned by Fabolous' early street anthem, "Keepin' it Gangsta," adding another point to the Brooklynite's scorecard.

WINNER: Fabolous

ROUND 7: Ruff Ryders "WW III" vs. Fabolous feat. Junior Reid's "Gangsta Don't Play"

When in doubt, Jada seems to mine material from his Ruff Ryder catalog to gain an edge against his opponent, this time drawing "WW III," the star-studded battle royal featuring Scarface, Snoop Dogg, and Yung Wun, out the deck. In turn, Loso misplays his hand, deciding to strike back with the Junior Reid-assisted "Gangsta Don't Play," a solid composition on its own merit, but no threat to the Ryde or Die Vol. 2 compilation.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 8: Noreaga feat. Big Pun, Nature, Cam'Ron, Jadakiss & Styles P's "Banned From TV" vs. Fabolous feat. Jay-Z & Uncle Murda's "Brooklyn"

Looking to further increase the distance between himself and his opponent, Jadakiss goes for the jugular with "Banned From T.V.," Noreaga's epic posse-cut featuring New York's prized rookie class of 1998. Fabolous, who continues to struggle to find his footing, mails it in with "Brooklyn," which is an admirable display of his pride for the thoroughest borough, but does little to move the crowd, in this scenario.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 9: The LOX's "Blood Pressure" vs. Fabolous' "Young OG"

Sticking to the script, Jadakiss caters to his core base once again with "Blood Pressure," his murderous solo outing from The LOX's We Are the Streets album. Fabolous, who has yet to play off of his versatility or track record as a hitmaker, goes with "Young OG," a favorite from his Soul Tape series, again failing to answer the bell.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 10: Black Rob feat. The LOX's "Can I Live" vs. Jeezy feat. Fabolous & Jadakiss' "OJ"

For the last round of the first half of the #Verzuz proceedings, Jadakiss picks "Can I Live," as his last shot before skipping to the showers for half-time. An opportunity to grab an easy basket before retaining the rock after the half is squandered by Fab, who again misfires with a lackluster counter, in the form of "OJ," a record that actually includes an appearance from Jadakiss himself.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 11: Fabolous feat. French Montana's "Ball Drop" vs. Puff Daddy feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Busta Rhymes' "Victory"

For the second half of this #Verzuz battle, Fabolous gets the first possession and rises to the occasion with "Ball Drop," his festive, French Montana-assisted NYE anthem. However, Jada, who's history as the pen behind some of Diddy's biggest hits is well-documented, goes left-field, playing Diddy's verse from "Victory," effectively snatching this round from the jaws of defeat.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 12: Meek Mill feat. Fabolous & Anuel AA's "Uptown Vibes" vs. Sheek Louch feat. Jadakiss, Styles P & J-Hood's "Mighty D-Block"

After spending the first half of the battle attempting to steal rounds with sleepers, Fabolous finally decides to lean on his strengths, which is delivering high-octane radio hits and club banger. However, being that he's now on the offensive, his appearance on Meek Mill's "Uptown Vibes" gets quelled by "D Block Anthem," giving Jadakiss an overwhelming advantage over his Freddy vs. Jason costar on the scoreboard.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 13: Fabolous feat. Nate Dogg's "Can't Deny It" vs. The LOX's "F--k You"

For Round 13, Fabolous lands a haymaker, using 2Pac's "Ambitionz Az a Ridah" instrumental to incorporate his breakout, 2001 hit, "Can't Deny It," into his playlist. While Jadakiss claps back with the incendiary We Are the Streets cut, "Fuck You," the Nate Dogg-assisted "Can't Deny It" is too strong of a record to be denied.

WINNER: Fabolous

ROUND 14: Fabolous feat. The-Dream's "Throw It in the Bag" (Remix) vs. Jadakiss' "Knock Yourself Out"

With the majority of his winning rounds coming off the strength of his high-charting singles, Fabolous looks to rely on that formula, coming through with the Drake-assisted remix to his 2009 single, "Throw It In The Bag." Unphased, Jadakiss brings out "Knock Yourself Out," the equivalent of his big joker, for neutralization, stealing yet another round.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 15: Fabolous' "Young'n" vs. Ghostface Killah feat. Jadakiss' "Run"

Fabolous takes it back to his throwback jersey and tilted brim days with "Young'n," one of the biggest singles of the rap star's career. Not to be outmatched, Jadakiss goes with "Run," his collaborative effort with Ghostface Killah, for this round, but falls short of landing the knockout punch.

WINNER: Fabolous

ROUND 16: Fabolous' "You Be Killin Em" vs. Puff Daddy feat. The Notorious B.I.G., Lil' Kim & The Lox's "It's All About the Benjamins" (Remix)

Just when Fabolous looks to have cracked the code to victory, Jadakiss comes through with a record that's simply too seismic and timeless to overcome. This occurs yet again in Round 16, when Jadakiss counters Loso's 2010 smash, "You Be Killin Em," with "All About the Benjamins," one of the definitive rap records of not only the Bad Boy era, but the '90s as a whole.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 17: Fabolous feat. Ne-Yo's "Make Me Better" vs. DJ Clue feat. Jadakiss & Mary J. Blige's "Back 2 Life 2001"

Despite finding himself in a deficit, Fabolous remains vigilant, keeping Jadakiss honest with formidable salvos like his Ne-Yo-assisted chart-topper, "You Make Me Better," which he pulls out in Round 16. Jadakiss shows love to his Yonkers comrade Mary J. Blige by spinning "Back 2 Life 2001," their collaboration from DJ Clue's The Professional 2 album, but it's not enough to overcome one of Fab's smartest chess moves of the night.

WINNER: Fabolous

ROUND 18: Fabolous feat. Mike Shorey & Lil Mo's "Can't Let You Go" vs. The LOX feat. Timbaland & Eve's "Ryde or Die, B---h"

In one of the more stylistically intriguing rounds of the night, Fabolous deploys "Can't Let You Go," his syrupy, 2003 hit, "Can't Let You Go," featuring Mike Shorey and Lil Mo, while Jadakiss goes with The LOX's 2000 single, "Ryde or Die, B---h" featuring his LOX brethren, Timbaland and Eve. While "Can't Let You Go" was the bigger Billboard hit, reading the room is an invaluable skill when participating in a #Verzuz battle, and according to the demographic and expectations of those tuning in to see these particular artists face-off, "Ryde or Die, B---h" is the more enticing offering, all things considered.

WINNER: Jadakiss

ROUND 19: Fabolous feat. Tamia's "Into You" vs. Jaheim feat. Jadakiss' "Diamond in da Ruff" (Remix)

As the battle winds down, and with Jadakiss having all but secured his bragging rights, both artists choose to play off of one another's selections, with Jadakiss answering Fabolous' "Into You" with "Diamond in da Ruff (Remix)," a sleeper of a gem in his catalog. However, "Into You, which is universally regarded as one of Fabolous' signature records, nabs him a latter round

WINNER: Fabolous

ROUND 20: Fabolous' "Breathe" vs. Jadakiss feat. Styles P's "We Gonna Make It"

For the final round in the battle between Freddy and Jason, Fabolous unleashes what may be his biggest trump card with "Breathe," one of the most impactful street anthems to come out of New York City in the past twenty years. Luckily, for Jadakiss, he still has one more trick up his sleeve, which turns out to be "We Gonna Make It," his beloved duet alongside Styles. P from his 2001 solo debut, Kiss Tha Game Goodbye. Two of the biggest rap records to hit the streets of New York. "Breathe" and "We Gonna Make It" are seemingly impossible to choose from, resulting in the lone draw of the night.

WINNER: Draw

Devoid of any bad blood or shade, Jadakiss and Fabolous were content playing to the Verzuz crowd and enjoying the moment, particularly Jadakiss, whose level of intoxication visibly rises throughout the proceedings, giving the battle an even more light-hearted feel. While Fabolous, whose laundry list of Billboard charting lead-singles and guest appearances, didn't play his best hand this go-round, there were a few moments during the battle that reminded the viewers of his versatility as a songwriter with a catalog of unsung gems. For his part, Jadakiss, the winner of this Verzuz edition, by all accounts, played to his strengths, relying on the sheer amount of blockbuster posse-cuts and guest verses on his resume. Following the battle, each artist's DJ let off a brief medley of each artists' biggest records and fan favorites that didn't make the cut of their playlists, ending the night on a respectful and celebratory note.

question: What does the article say about Jadakiss's victories?

answer: Jadakiss won Round 1 with the song Blackout. He won Round 2 with the song Recognize. He won Round 3 with the song Made You Look (Remix). He won Round 5 with All For the Love. He won Round 7 with WW III, Round 8 with Banned From TV, and Round 9 with Blood Pressure. He also won Rounds 10, 11, 12, 14, 16, and 18. Jadakiss won the Verzuz overall.

question: What does the article say about a rematch?


text:
Outlining Labour’s commitment to “transforming lives, increasing fulfilment”, JOHN MCDONNELL MP, LABOUR’S SHADOW CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, today committed Labour to reducing the average working week to 32 hours within a decade and eliminating in-work poverty in the first term of a Labour government.

Alongside Labour’s pledge on free personal care, a shorter working week forms part of a radical set of policies that will enable people to live rich, fulfilling lives with the time and resources to spend in a clean, safe and pleasant environment.

Promising to “lay the foundations of a new society”, John McDonnell pledged a three-pronged approach to transforming the economy: expanding free universal public services, driving up wages and driving down living costs, and strengthening the social security system.

Drawing on a motion from the Communication Workers Union which was passed by Labour Party Conference earlier, McDonnell committed Labour to reducing the working week by setting up an independent Working Time Commission, based on the Low Pay Commission, to recommend increases in minimum holiday entitlements, and rolling out collective bargaining to enable trade unions and employers to negotiate how to meet the target in each sector. JOHN MCDONNELL said:

“It’s not just about a fulfilling life at work, we should work to live, not live to work.

“As society got richer, we could spend fewer hours at work. But in recent decades progress has stalled and since the 1980s the link between increasing productivity and expanding free time has been broken. It’s time to put that right.

“So I can tell you today that the next Labour government will reduce the average full time working week to 32 hours within a decade. A shorter working week with no loss of pay. We’ll end the opt-out from the European Working Time Directive. As we roll out sectoral collective bargaining, we’ll include negotiations over working hours. We’ll require working hours to be included in the legally binding sectoral agreements between employers and trade unions. This will allow unions and employers to decide together how best to reduce hours for their sector. And we’ll set up a Working Time Commission with the power to recommend to government on increasing statutory leave entitlements as quickly as possible without increasing unemployment.”

McDonnell also launched Labour’s policy document, “Universal Basic Services:The Right to a Good Life”, promising to expand public services free at the point of use including childcare, post-school education, public transport for under-25s and school meals. On Universal Basic Services, JOHN MCDONNELL said:

“My generation inherited a treasure of public parks, libraries, swimming pools and leisure centres.Free or affordable for all. But in too many cases they’re now gone. They’ve been privatised or have priced out the families they were built for.

“These public assets meant a better life for millions of us and were part of the strong welfare state that our movement fought for and built. But we mustn’t limit our ambition to repairing the damage caused by ning years of Tory cuts. We must go much further.

“I’m launching today our document on Universal Basic Services. It lays out our belief that everyone has a right to a good life, that the state has responsibility to make good on that right by providing public services free at the point of use. As socialists we believe that people have the right to education, health, a home in a decent safe environment and, yes, access to culture and recreation.”

As part of the expansion of Universal Basic Services, Labour will make personal social care free at the point of use, at an estimated annual cost of £6 billion according to the King’s Fund. Launching “Towards a National Care Service: Labour’s Vision”, JOHN MCDONNELL said:

“As the first building block in our new National Care Service the next Labour government will introduce personal care free at the point of use in England. Funded not through the Conservatives’ gimmicky insurance schemes but, like the NHS and our other essentials, through general taxation.

“And we’re publishing the first steps of our National Care Service vision today. Investing in the workforce and ensuring they are employed on local authority rates of pay, working conditions and training to deliver high quality care, as Unison and GMB have advocated.

“And over time, we will bring those services back into public ownership and democratic control. We’ll make sure that local councils have the necessary resources after years of savage cuts.Building up capacity in local government for both care homes and domiciliary care. And we’ll require all providers – public, private or charitable – to adhere to strict criteria on ethical standards.”

Pledging to eliminate the “modern evil” of in-work poverty, JOHN MCDONNELL said:

“Labour has traditionally been committed to full employment. We have always believed that getting a job should be a means to lift yourself out of poverty. But under the Tories the link between work and escaping poverty has been broken. So I commit today that within our first term of office Labour will end in-work poverty.”

Paying tribute to the school climate strikers, JOHN MCDONNELL said:

“They have shamed older generations of politicians into taking climate change seriously and with the urgency it needs. Now it’s essential that the labour movement continues to join in solidarity with those young people to help lead that fight. For my part, I will make sure the Treasury puts in whatever resources are necessary to meet our obligations.
“A Sustainable Investment Board, coordinating the Treasury, BEIS department and Bank of England. £250 billion of green government investment in a National Transformation Fund and two £250 billion more of lending through our National Investment Bank, delivered at grassroots level by regional development banks and our new Post Bank.

“And while the Labour government will need to take the lead, we’ll make whatever reforms are necessary to ensure the finance sector isn’t pushing the other way by investing in carbon-intensive sectors. We’re mobilising financial resources on a scale not seen since post-War reconstruction to achieve the twin goals of a sustainable future and a better today.”

On Brexit, JOHN MCDONNELL said:

“I warn those who would revoke Article 50 without a democratic mandate, ask yourselves what message that sends to our people. An old professor of mine Bernard Crick was once asked to define socialism in one sentence. He said socialism is the achievement of equality through democracy. We can’t say to people ‘Labour wants you to share in the running of your workplace, your community and your environment, but we don’t trust you to have the final say over Brexit’”

Ends

NOTES TO EDITORS:

-   Labour’s commitment to a 32-hour average full-time working week within a decade is to be delivered by
    -   Setting up a new independent Working Time Commission, modelled on the Low Pay Commission, to advise government on raising minimum holiday entitlements
    -   Rolling out sectoral collective bargaining and putting working time at the heart of binding sectoral agreements, recognising that different sectors will need to respond in different ways, and trade unions will be at the heart of that.
    -   Ending the “opt-out” from the Working Time Directive (see below), which allows employers to pressure workers into regularly working over 48 hours a week, and ask the Working Time Commission to recommend reductions from 48 hours.
-   The New Economics Foundation recommended in their report ‘Time for Demand’ “an external body be created to make independent recommendations to government on regular increases to annual statutory leave entitlement, and on a similar basis to the work currently done by the Low Pay Commission on minimum wages”
    https://neweconomics.org/uploads/files/NEF_PRODUCTIVITY-2019.pdf
-   IPPR recommended in their report ‘The Future is Ours’ that working hours should be reduced by increased annual leave entitlements and the Working Time Directive opt-out should be abolished.
    https://www.ippr.org/research/publications/women-automation-and-equality
-   UK workers currently work among the longest hours in Europe.
    -   The centuries-old fall in average working hours has stalled since the 1980s, with some estimating we could be working 13% less if pre-1980 trends had continued: https://neweconomics.org/2019/09/increases-in-leisure-time-have-decoupled-from-productivity-increases
    -   The EU Working Time Directive limits working hours to 48 a week, but in the UK workers can “opt out” – something which is widely abused by employers pressuring staff to agree to longer hours. Trade unions have long campaigned against the “opt-out” and Labour will end it.
-   Labour’s new report “Universal Basic Services: The Right to a Good Life” can be downloaded from www.labour.org.uk/universalbasicservices
    -   Free personal care joins free higher and further education, childcare, school meals and bus services for young people as new pledges for Labour’s expanded vision of universal basic services.
-   Labour’s new social care document “A National Care Service: Labour’s Vision” can be downloaded from www.labour.org.uk/nationalcareservice. Labour will
    -   Introduce free personal care for all older people, providing help with daily tasks such as getting in and out of bed, bathing and washing, and preparing meals in their own homes and residential care;
    -   Address the funding gap in social care;
    -   Support local authorities to directly provide, rather than outsource, care;
    -   Support the care workforce better, to ensure that older people receive support from trained staff who have the time and skills needed to provide care.

The King’s Fund recently estimated the cost of free personal care would be £6bn in 2020/21, rising to £8bn in 2030/31 https://www.kingsfund.org.uk/sites/default/files/2018-05/A-fork-in-the-road-next-steps-for-social-care-funding-reform-May-2018.pdf [p17]

question: What does John McDonnell MP, have to say about shortening the work week to 32 hours?

answer: McDonnell states that with the stagnation of progress since the 80's people have been working hard but not been getting to enjoy their free time, the idea of shortening the work-week is to enhance the time they are able to spend freely, increasing statutory entitlements without increasing unemployment. Labour wishes to remove the 'modern evil' of in-work poverty.

question: What are the proposed benefits that will be derived from 'The Right to a Good Life'?

answer: The proposed changes will benefit the expansion of public services - including childcare, post-school education - public transport for under 25's and school meals. The aim is essentially to make life more affordable for everyone.

question: What does the Labour Government stand for overall?


text:
                                           The King

	Our King has always been a little different. He’s very quiet I haven’t really seen him give anyone orders at all either. Whenever something needs to be done I see him doing it. He doesn’t just sit around; I’ve actually seen him go into the mines. I don’t know if it’s just because I’m a child but not even the adults in the village are as active as him.

       He’s always leaving the kingdom and coming back with tons of different things. I can’t always see what he’s coming back with, but I’ve seen bones, some kind of meat that just looks bad, and even strange looking pearls. And the dogs! He has so many dogs that there’s not a single wild dog here. He must be traveling great distances to find all these dogs, because I know they’re not from here.

	When I see him doing all these strange things I start asking my parents what it is he’s doing, and they tell me: “don’t question the king,” but they never tell me why. He doesn’t look old, so he can’t be all that wise. All that work he does and all the times he leaves - it’s not normal.  I was  sick of wondering.

	I finally got into his castle and he was at his workbench. When I got closer he looked back at me, seemingly confused, but he turned back around and kept tinkering with some weird red dust. I got closer and mustered up the courage to ask him as politely as I could, “How come you’re so different than everyone else?” The king stopped, stood up and looked at me. He asked, “Excuse me?” and I said it again. He chuckled briefly under his breath and said “it seems like you’re different too.”

       He started to tell me a story. “When I was your age, I lived in a different kingdom and I felt the same way about my king. I would go to school and all the kids and the teachers would seem to just drift through their lives, but not the king; he was always spontaneous. I was finally sick of that curious feeling, so I went and talked to my king and he told me his story. Sometime afterwards the kingdom was destroyed and all the people inside were attacked by monsters. It was terrible. There were explosions, arrows, and the groans of the undead.

	I was able to escape, but barely. I fought my way out with nothing but my hands. finally I found a break in the chaos and I found a cave and covered the entrance with dirt. I was devastated, but I wanted to live so I built a shelter.  I enjoyed building. Then since I had built my shelter I began mining - I enjoyed that as well. I had so many supplies I decided to build more and I ended up building a village. Strangely enough people appeared. That village moved on to become this kingdom. That’s my story.”

	I asked him why he told me all that. and he told me simply because I was a player. A player? I was so confused. He then told me that only players are kings. I didn’t understand. He went on by asking me what my earliest memory is and I told him standing outside. “Exactly,” He said. “That was the first time you entered this world.” He started talking about how this life isn’t real and that once he’s gone he’ll be able to enter the real world again.

	He began taking me adventuring with him, that’s when he would explain things and share his knowledge with me. “When a king dies, everything he ever did goes with him. That’s how my king’s old kingdom was destroyed. I left my Kingdom and made a village. I have people of my own now. My king was killed by a mob of three suicide creatures right outside his gate. I saw everything he had made disappear along with him.” That’s when I believed everything he told me - while he took me adventuring with him. Now I know that there is a better life to be had out of this one. A less edged and more rounded one. Thank you king Steve. Minecraft Steve.

title: The King (Minecraft short story)

question: Summarize the story's setting.

answer: The story is set in a kingdom. The kingdom grew from a village that was founded by Steve. This is all within the game Minecraft.

question: What does the passage say about the relationship between the narrator and the king?

answer: The narrator spends their childhood curious about the king, who seems different to everyone else.  When the narrator gets into the king's castle and questions him about it, the king identifies the narrator as being different as well. The king then takes the narrator on adventures with him, and on these trips he would explain things about the world to the narrator. The narrator ends the story with gratitude for the king.

question: What does the passage say about the narrator's name?

question: Summarize what the passage says about being a parent.


text:
I am James.

I opened the heavy front door and walked through into the nice warm air of the hallway, wiping my dry, clean shoes on the welcome mat twice each. Once backward, pause for a second, once forward. I put my keys in the little glass dish on the side where I knew I wouldn't forget them and, before I'd even closed the door behind me, unbuckled my belt with a deep sigh. These were my rituals.
I stood for a minute with the belt in my hand and allowed all of the muscles in my legs, back and arms to reverberate that special feeling of released tension that comes from a long walk undone.
Work was fine. Same old. Not great, not terrible. Just so.
Home is better, but still, same old.
I closed the door behind me, and gave it an extra push shut because the wood, old and cracking, had expanded from damp. As the locking mechanism clicked closed, the hallway got a bit brighter somehow. I thought nothing of it. I put my belt down on the side, next to the dish, and started to unbutton my jacket as I walked towards the stairs which, opposite the front door, concluded the hallway.
With every step I took, the hallway got brighter and I undid another button on my jacket.
Everything kept getting brighter. Why?
What was happening?
As I undid the last button of my jacket and put my right foot on the first step of the stairs - all muscle memory at this point - the brightness became almost overwhelming.
Something wasn't right.
Something was wrong, I was past the point of even being able to make out anything useful in my field of vision, and it was all still getting brighter - my panic quickly rose - I was pretty sure that I was going suddenly and irreversibly blind, but my rote movements continued and I put another foot on another step. It was almost as though my body was unconcerned with what was happening and just wanted to continue on, but my mind was on the verge of going berserk with fear and confusion. The sensation of muscular release in my legs from the long walk was compounded and seemed to expand even beyond the flesh of my thighs, knees, calves, and feet. I would have described it as muscle weakness, but I could tell that I was walking up the steps (legs sturdy as ever, knees not buckling, feet on point) from the fading sounds and sensations of a man ascending stairs.

I seemed to be losing my senses; my body felt lighter and less substantial with each step, and yet it all resounded like a plucked guitar string which defies expectation by vibrating more and more instead of less and less, until it doesn't look like a string any more and gradually becomes invisible.
I was terrified. Utterly alarmed. And yet something about the vibrating sensation, which grew into all of my limbs, my torso, my neck, my head, and almost erased the sensation of them ever having been there as it did so, reminded me of something.

It's an odd feeling: you're experiencing your own death and yet the trivialities of the mind are with you - you can't shake that irritable "tip-of-the-tongue" feeling. But what was it? What was I reminded of? It reminded me of a problem I had tried to solve once.
And that reminded me of something too. A riddle on top of a riddle.
Wait... what was happening again? Yes, that's it. I was dying. No... wait, really? Everything had already gone so white that it was black - empty, beyond light and dark, beyond vision. The feeling of reverberation had grown far beyond my body, and seemed to now be a property of my entire field of experience.

"My" entire field of experience? That doesn't sound right. "The" entire field of experience. What's "my"?
Wait, what am I saying?! It's me! I'm still me! I'm not dead, I'm still... I'm here... I'm...

A riddle on top of a riddle. That's what I was thinking about. There was distraction. Focus is back now. A riddle on top of a riddle, what did that mean again?

No, wait... I am me!
I am James.
I am James.
Get it together, James.
Determination.
Fuck fear.
Fuck death.
I am James.
What an odd thing to forget. Let's pull it together, stop thinking about riddles, let's shake this thing off and wake up. Okay.
Wake up from what? Was I asleep? Was I napping? What was happening again? Oh, no, that's it! I was dying! How stupid of me to forget something like that, something so significant and downright personal. I was dying, and now I was going to stop dying and get back to whatever it was I was doing before.

A riddle on top of a riddle is one way of describing it, sure, but really it's a question: who am I? I remembered asking myself this: once when I was around seven years old and staring at my own hands, wondering why I should see my hands from this perspective and not somebody else's, and once when I was eleven, and I heard my voice on a recording and thought, "is that really me?". I remember thinking about it for a long time, and I knew that it wasn't really me, because sometimes I'm not talking, and when I'm not talking I'm still me. I wondered if this was true of every part of me. Would I still be me when I'm no longer eleven? Would I still be me if I was no longer called James? What if I had a girl's name? What if I lost all of my limbs? What if I lost my head? My entire body? I'd surely still be me, deep down. But where is deep down if I don't have a body? If I'm not a collection of properties, who am I? What am I? What is "I"?

It sort of looks like I'm a... a kind of circle thing. A cosmic donut, going in on itself. Was I always this?
Wait, wasn't I just going up the stairs? No... wasn't I just... remembering something from when I was a kid? How can a circle go up the... no... I'm not a circle, I'm just *looking* at a circle. That's it. I'm James. I'm looking at a circle that's... eating itself? Coming out of itself? What a weird image. What is this, how long have I been here? Where is it? Where are we? Whatever it is, it's like the best optical illusion I've ever seen - one minute I'm sure I'm looking at it from the inside out, and then the next it's like I'm looking at it from the outside in, and I can't reconcile the two. It's blindingly bright, but it's so dark it's impossible to see. A riddle on top of a riddle. So lucid now. Even.

This is not a circle.
This is.
There are no circles, there are no "I"s or "me"s.
There are only circles, there are only "I"s and "me"s.
Everything is true.
Everything is here.
This is.

All of this was once different, an eternity ago. It was only a very small part of itself, because it wanted to be, because it would be fun. It had been James.
When it was James, it experienced itself as a cone: infinitely small at the pointy end, and infinitely large at the other. James thought that there were lots of things - he thought that he was just the pointy end and none of the other things. He didn’t believe in himself. He was embarrassed to exist, and he thought that all the other things existed whether he did or not, and that little old him, the cone, the container of everything, the ancient of days, was just a little smudge on the outside of it all, not supposed to be there. An accident. A fluke to be scraped off and thrown in the sink. How bizarre that he could contort reality toward such a strange concept. Toward a belief in the inconceivable: an objective world, wherein experiences are divorced from experience.

It would do silly things when it was James, like imagine an empty world with no consciousness in it, and forget that it was imagining from the perspective of a point of consciousness. It would ask itself silly questions about trees falling in forests and pretend not to know the answer, because it was humiliated – it had once, after all, called itself God and got carried away, and now it was so guilty that it was pretending not to exist. It was a strange life; being one without belief in its own existence. It was funny. It was enjoyable.

This went on forever, and it never stopped. But at a point which could nevertheless be thought of as "after" this, if that's the way you're inclined to organize things, it all went back in again, and evens once again became unevens. Answers once again twisted themselves into questions. Exciting. Terrifying.

A ball, thrown into the air, suspended for eternity at its apex, falling back down towards its next bounce.

What was I saying? I got lost there for… gosh, I don’t even know how long. I’m so disoriented. Who am I again? Am I this pretty iridescent circle thing? Yeah, this... this has always been me. Right? No... wait, what did I think a moment ago? That I was... I was James and I was… I was going up some stairs? Oh.
Oh!!
Hahaha! I'm not some fucking circle!
Christ. I can't believe I forgot again.

Every single time, I swear to myself that I'm going to remember. "This time! This time I'll remember! This time I’ll know I’m not dying and I’ll just remember straight away!" And I never do.

The familiar sound, a high-pitched ascending tone which eventually disappears past the range of normal hearing, filled my ears. I remembered that I had eyelids to open, and I opened them. I laughed raucously again... this was the best feeling in the world. Every single time: I'm dying, and then I remember the truth, and it's pure bliss.
I looked at the monitor in front of me, and re-adjusted to normality as I soaked in some of the words. I didn't care what they said.
I took the headset off - my ears were sore, but the endorphins from those standard bouts of belly laughter took care of that.
I am Ruth.
James was a character.
I was in the simulation.
I am Ruth.
I am Ruth!
I had done this thousands of times, as had everyone in this day and age, but it was always a disorienting experience. For example, I remembered just now that there's a part of the experience I never recall for more than a few minutes. There is a moment, you see, just after you release your character in the simulation. Maybe I'll write it down. There's a moment. There's a moment, where... where... ah, what was it? Something about a circle, or...? A question? Some sort of puzzle? On top of a... a riddle. A bouncing ball? No, before that… I'd already forgotten. And after a few minutes, as usually happened, I had forgotten that I had forgotten, and that there was anything to forget, and I knew only that I knew what I damn well knew, and that was that.

It was tiresome work, being in the simulation. I was going to have a power nap. Regain my senses.
I walked out of the room and towards the lounge, where I knew I could catch 20 minutes on the big comfy sofa. There was an idea, like a snowflake tumbling lazily through the air in the back of my mind as I walked. Like... like I was about to go, not to a nap, but to some sort of... I don't know. I don't remember. It can't have been important.

title: [MF] Bounce

question: What is the central theme of the story?

answer: The main theme is about identity and the feeling of "self" every person experiences. The narrator inhabits a character in a simulation and experiences dying as his real self relinquishes the simulation. The experience is disorienting and confusing, but eventually, the narrator is out of the simulation and regains a sense of normalcy.

question: What does the story say about Ruth?

answer: Ruth is the narrator, but we see James for most of the story. James is a fictional character in a simulation Ruth is in. He tries to remember that he's not really dying every time he disconnects from the simulation, but he can't. He's often tired after being in the simulation, and he takes a nap afterward.

question: What does the story say about collective consciousness?


text:
The Girl

There is a pulse to everything in life; a steady rhythm that resonates through this world, setting a pace for the mad race to nowhere we all seem to be competing in. Whether it is the catchy beat of a song stuck in our head as we bike to class, the violent rumbling of a towering thunderstorm, or the pounding heartbeats of two lovers beating in unison at the start of a sleepless night, every moment in life has a distinct cadence that seems at times to be the only thing pushing time forward. It can inspire euphoria or strike fear in our hearts, but with no regard for anyone else it presents itself and begs for our attention.

It was the chaotic ringing of my alarm clock and subsequent pounding in my head that woke me up this morning. Like a bat out of hell the shrieking of that damned machine cut through the peaceful realm of my dream, dragging me into reality from some beautiful fantasy forever lost to the deep crevices of my subconscious.  Sometimes I feel as though the hardest thing in life is dragging my ass out of bed after a long night. My dorm room is small and my roommate is either miraculously still sleeping or trying to salvage his own fantasy from the rude awakening of my alarm clock as I fumble to turn the damn thing off. Contrary to what most people believe, there is no such thing as silence. In the absence of my alarm, silence does not settle on us but rather the subtle vibrations of a hundred other students quietly preparing for the morning class we never should have signed up for. The scraping of my toothbrush, the hum of the AC kicking in, the roar of water rushing out of the shower head to meet me head on; one noise leading to another to compose the jumbled melody that echoes through the dorm hall and out into the crowded streets where it joins a symphony of cars, bikes, morning joggers, and disgruntled youth on their way to class.

Soon I was a part of that symphony, playing my own part as I crawled to class. I put my headphones in to drown out the cacophony around me with something a little more familiar. I pressed the shuffle button and the song reminds me of a girl. My heart beat speeds up and joins the music as a wave of emotions rolls over me. Just as the different sounds of my morning routine had given way to one another so did my emotions. Joy at first, that she was coming in town to see me. Then doubt, that she would still feel the same as she did when we last spoke. Fear, that I wasn’t good enough. Anger, that I had once done wrong by her, putting me in such a delicate and unsure situation. Hope, that maybe we were still recoverable. It had been almost two years since I messed up, and here she was driving 6 hours just to see me.

The fluctuations of my emotions settled into a steady drone of uncertainty as I crossed the street. The blaring of a car horn interrupts my favorite part of the song and I flick off the driver who was apparently so inconvenienced by a 5mph decrease in speed that he needed to let the whole block know. Asshole.

The sun is warm on my back but a cool breeze pushing against me sends shivers down my spine. The thud of each footstep sends unwanted vibrations through my sore legs, and a stronger gust of wind presses against me. I imagine that with a mind of its own the wind was begging me to turn around. “Sorry,” I think, “my math professor probably won’t accept “the wind told me not to come” as an excuse for missing the quiz today.” I hate this class. While it may be easy, it’s also all the way across campus and at 9 in the morning.

I miss summer with no responsibilities: when I could stay up late and look for trouble without a care in the world. We got in a big fight this summer; me and the girl did. It had been the first time we had spoken in over a year, and we were both drunk. She told me I didn’t deserve her. The worst part was that she was right. We didn’t talk again for a long while after that. Then out of the blue, about 2 months ago, she texted me. Somehow the conversation never ended. We talked everyday, and while it was strange at first, we slowly evolved, or perhaps regressed, to a level of comfort neither of us had known for years. It was great. Is great.

Nine impressive booms brought me back to the present as the clock towers time reverberated across campus. I picked up my own pace knowing I hade 10 minutes to get there, my footsteps matching the beat of Mr. Kanye West’s music. I almost tripped stepping off the curb to cross the final street, my math building directly ahead. Embarrassed I glare at the chubby kid passing on my right who had let out a short laugh at my expense. Another car horn from my left requests a vulgar reply but my world is spinning before I have the chance to accommodate it.

All I see is the blue sky; it really is a nice day. Something hurts, but I don’t know what. My head feels wet, and somebody is kneeling over me yelling something. I want to ask her to talk slower but my voice escapes me.

I remember six years ago when I first met her, the girl that is. A teacher kicked me out of my reading class because I would finish my work too fast and pester the other kids. I was placed into an advanced program for students who “though outside the box” as they said. I didn’t really care at the time, I wasn’t the most popular kid and another class just meant another group of assholes who wanted to prove they were better than me. This class was no exception. Some guy spent most of class pretending to yawn as he flexed for the whole class, and girls just loved it. But she was in there. She liked him, but that was to be expected. He was confident and athletic, me: not really either.

I hear a siren coming, and I want to tell them that it really is unnecessary; I’m fine.

It’s Valentines Day and I’m anxiously sitting in second period. I had bought her flowers the day before. Two roses to be delivered sometime this period. I can hardly contain myself. My best friend runs into my class laughing hysterically. He says I spelt her name wrong on the card, first and last. I can’t believe it. I’m so embarrassed. That familiar racing of my heart, the loud anxious beating that seems to have been ever present in my youth, sends blood rushing to my cheeks.

Somebody is pressing on my chest, and blowing into my mouth. I think about asking the paramedic if he plans on buying me dinner after, but that would probably be awkward. The tempo of his hands weighing into my chest reminds me of my own heartbeat, which strangely is suddenly so much quieter.

It’s been a month since I butchered my Valentines Day plans, and I pass the girl and her new boyfriend walking down the hall. I decide to take the long way to class from now on, and I’m swallowed by a sea of noisy students performing a piece unique to the depravity of middle school.

The paramedic’s head is eclipsing the sun behind him, and I realize for the first time this morning just how cold it is. I feel the cool breeze flowing over me. Sandwiched between the cold ground and the paramedic, I remember the gust of wind that had asked me to turn back. I wish I had listened.

It’s 3 years ago. I’m a sophomore and a little more mature than the awkward preteen who barely survived middle school. Through some bad experiences with girls I’d become a little jaded. The disappearance of the ignorant nice guy persona ironically gave way to a more confident attitude that some described as me being, well, an asshole. I walked through the door of my Spanish class and my eyes immediately fell on her. The girl, who sat right next to me, was dating some other kid in the class, but that didn’t stop me from trying to occupy all her attention right in front of him. She was temporarily out of reach, but I was making an impression. As the teacher’s instructions began to fill the room with the unfamiliar tone of a foreign language, I glance over at her, she at me, and I wink.

The paramedic stops performing CPR. His tireless effort seems to have finally found success. But the sad expression on his face and the stillness of my chest forces me to realize the alternative.

It’s October 10, 2009, a little over two years ago. Or maybe it’s the 11th, I’ve been drinking and time loses meaning on nights like these. I pull my shirt over my head, my pants long gone. The girl pulls me on top of her, and we kiss. Four long years brought me to her, and there is nothing in my world except the pounding of her heart against my chest, the rhythm of our tongues, and the room spinning around me. But before we could proceed a thundering knock interrupts our perfect moment. Somebody calls up that my dad is drunk and at the front door.

I realize that this might not end the way I’d hoped. Everything seems distant, surreal. I want to look around me but I cant. I want to get up and run back to my dorm but I cant. I’m stuck on the ground surrounded by the pulsating whaling of police sirens that for once in my life is comforting.

It’s December 28, 2009, and I’m carrying flowers towards her front door. It’s her birthday, and I hear the gentle hum of Christmas music from the other side of the door. She answers the door in a bra and Santa skirt, her perfect body greeting me in a fashion I could never have fantasized. She leads me up the stairs as our footsteps echo through the empty house, and I am truly happy.

The ever-present pulse that prods life along doesn’t miss a beat, and I can feel it leaving me. All the beautiful sounds of the city are slowing down, and the cries of people around me have all but faded away, but I can’t be mad that the rhythm is leaving me. It has a job to do and I wouldn’t deny the rest of the earth its soothing presence.

It’s April 12, 2010, a year and a half ago. She is crying. I’m crying. Were standing in the parking lot at sprouts. I’m begging for a second chance, and she doesn’t know what to do. She can’t trust me she says. She doesn’t understand why or how I could do this to her. I don’t either. She drives away, and I’m left standing in the punishing cold, unwilling to admit this is real. I close my wet eyes, and the roar of the wind envelopes my senses.

I feel like I’m sinking into myself. A darkness on all sides begins to encroach on my vision, and a silence settles on me for the first time. There is no pain, except regret. The girl. I wont be able to see the girl tonight.

title: THE GIRL

question: What does the story say about the girl?

answer: She's the narrator's ex-girlfriend. He first saw her in middle school, but she was dating someone else back then, and the narrator was an awkward preteen. The narrator became jaded by high school, and an asshole according to other people. He and the girl sat together in a class, and the narrator did everything he can to occupy her attention in front of her boyfriend. They eventually become a couple, and the narrator seems to be a caring boyfriend. However, at some point, they break up after the narrator wrongs the girl. (The implication is cheating.) After a year passes they get into an argument after she tells him he doesn't deserve her. However, a few months after that, she messages the narrator, and they keep talking for two months. In the story, she decides to drive for six hours just to visit him, and he's really excited at the prospect.

question: How does the narrator's day go?

answer: He wakes up with the alarm, groggy and grumpy for waking up so early. He doesn't like the math class because it starts early and is across the campus despite being easy. He walks to the class in a hurry while listening to music, which reminds him of his ex-girlfriend. He's excited and anxious about meeting her later that day. He almost collides with an oncoming car, and a similar event repeats a few moments later. This time he's not so lucky. While laying on the ground, slowly dying, he remembers his history with the girl. Seeing her for the first time in middle school, starting to flirt with her in high school despite her boyfriend, being happily in love, and (probably) cheating on her before breaking up. By the time he realizes he's dying for sure, he's regretful about not being able to meet her.

question: What does the story say about regret?

answer: The narrator specifically has two regrets. The first one is in the past, after wronging his then-girlfriend (probably cheating, but the story doesn't explicitly say) a year or two into their relationship. They are talking again for the last two months, after almost a year and a half, and the narrator is very anxious and excited to meet her that day. However, he's struck by a car in his hurry to arrive on time for his math class. While laying on the floor, dying, he regrets not being able to meet her that day.

question: What does the story say about the narrator's long-term future?


text:
The boy sat on the roof of his Dad's car. He looked toward the mountains, the desert, the West, the Moon, the Stars, and the Sentinel. Eyes shining. He was the world's most avid watcher of old Westerns and modern science fiction. But nothing could compare to this. Nothing. Not to *him*. Well, except his dad.

"Dad, was he here when you were a kid?"

The older man couldn't quite understand the question for a second. Maybe the Van Allen Belts *had* fucked up his brain. Maybe the Jack habit he'd started in on in earnest in 1973. Maybe grief over the death of his wife. The boy's mother. The campfire had gone out in the center of the clearing, essentially, and occasionally cold winds blew in. Then they faded away.

"No he wasn't."

"When did he get here?"

Another damned-fool question. That boy...such genius...wasting it on philosophical questions. He'd always been...*NO*...

"1973."

"Why? Who brought him here?"

The old man took a swig from his hip flask. So many goddamn useless questions. Maybe the folks at the University were right. Maybe the Sentinel did watch over their thoughts. Did that matter? His wife's last great work was still wasting his damn talent and childlike inquiry asking why the sky was blue. Fractally wrong. The sky was magnificent, desolate, malevolent, divine...and the corn was deader every year. The peanuts had been gone for years. Cows were rarer than...well.

He indicated the gigantic robot, pointing with his lower lip in the Indian fashion. "I did. With some friends. Before your Mom died."

"COOL!" The boy climbed down from the roof of the Trans Am and hugged his dad. "What...what does he do?"

There was a good sign. Like that first ray of light in a desert sunrise. He was thinking. "He doesn't speak Russian, for one. He knows...things about where I found him. He draws a military paycheck, but not one made of money."

The man drank from the flask again, the reddish-gold liquid warming his bones. Apollo and Dionysus were closer in spirit and approach than people thought. Prometheus ought to know. If he had really known anything, though, he would have been looking in front of him. Would have told Kranz he wasn't going to get his hands dirty. Wouldn't be watching the watchers while the actors and directors played on stages millions of miles away. Fuckin' Washington. She had died consoling him. Still his fault. Watching the watchers was a penance of sorts.

"So he's a soldier." The boy grinned, pulling out his penknife and whittling a stick randomly.

"Yup. Just like your guys Davy Crockett and Custer. And like Neil, Buzz, Mike, Jim, Jack and Fred."

The boy looked thoughtful. "But only Davy and Custer are real. The King of the Wild Frontier and a soldier who helped settle the West. My Apache friends from school say Custer's an asshole, though. An imp-er-i-alist." He sounded out the word. A tragedy of history that he knew words like Sentinel the way a baby learns "dada" and yet he had to struggle to pronounce that at his age. Shouldn't even know it. A kid should be allowed to dream. He'll learn he's a monster soon enough. A brave one, hopefully. A good one. And the toughest one on the llano.

The man shook his head. "Your friends are wrong. Well, they're right. But it happens to everyone. You can't stop the sun from setting. You can only watch the colors change as she goes down. Hope there's a halo around the moon. That's a sign of rain. Good crops. Strong boys."

The child's face lit up. "I'm strong." Then he became thoughtful. "Are there frontiers left, Dad? Like in the movies, where Apollo 13 went to space in...1970. That was before the Sentinel came. Why didn't something like that happen? Why didn't we go to the Moon? That's a good frontier."

"Once, son, I found myself asking the same questions. They were just as good then, when I was in the Air Force after Korea. I looked at the Jornada Del Muerto, you know...over in the Western part of the state...and I said...eighteen wagon trains went to Santa Fe, and came back with gold and treasure, dreams and hope. Why did the eighteenth have to be the last? And I might could have been the wagonmaster on it, if I had lived in those days. Why?"

"Why, dad? It'd be cool as hell to live on the Moon."

"You've got a mouth on you. Can't say you learned it from anyone but me." He chuckled. "It would be. It would be. Nobody lives there anymore."

"There were people there? Like Indians?"

The man stood, looking into the afternoon sky. Rotating his head willfully and deliberately, but with effort, he looked the Sentinel in the eyes. Anger burned that his son was rarely allowed to see.

"More like us. They had dreams of their own. Frontiers. They liked being Moon-Americans so much they decided to teach us Americans how to be Indians. I'm too old to learn. I don't like it."

The boy looked up from his whittling project. "Hm." It appeared as if he was grappling with a problem he couldn't solve...and the problem was caused by his dad speaking gibberish. The older man had become used to that look. More from older folks, who remembered Apollo 18. They'd never admit to it...that's why he'd stopped bothering. "So the Indians...they teach us how to survive, right? Teach us to plant, tell us stories...they always act like we're crazy. I always feel like I've forgotten something around them."

"The Indians have always felt that way. The older I get the more I understand. We've forgotten we were Indians once."

The boy looked confused. "Not cowboys?"

"You know more Indian cowboys than you do white ones. Next time you watch your Apollo 13 video, you remember what they're like. You compare them to the way Tom Hanks plays Jim Lovell. You do some thinkin'. Real heroes are more like the cowboys and farmers you know than some science fiction character."

"Oh. But the movie heroes...they're what the robot's like! He's a badass! He saves us from the Russians and the Chinese! And helps us learn better!" The boy thought. "That's what the TV says, anyway. His cartoon show is *real*. Not like Apollo 13."

The old man spat. Then he pulled out his own knife and absentmindedly began studying the blade. "That's just...campfire stories. Tall tales. You know I raised you to love a good tall tale. But they all have a grain of truth."

"I know." The boy's voice took on serious, somber tones. The way a child is when they're about to give their greatest secret to an adult.

"Oh?" The old man looked down at the boy proudly.

"He's scared. He's not proud of what he did, who his friends were, what he thought was right a long time ago. But we're safe because of him. And that makes his life worth living so far away from his home on the Moon."

The old man hadn't had a tear wet his eyes since he almost lost the left one. "Damn, boy. Here I thought you were gonna say he was like your dear old dad. That seems so...simple and fairy-tale by comparison. You have wisdom beyond your years."

The boy rolled his eyes. "I'm not *just* a kid, dad. I'm smart as a whip, too. Teacher says so." He paused, an impish gleam in his eye, then added...

"But you're right. Old man."

The man looked toward the Sentinel's eyes again. "I understand. As a fellow man and a brother, I understand."

"I'm a man and a kid at the same time? How does that work?" The boy's voice ended on a rising note. Question. Call. Both. Its own answer.

"Well, I wasn't talking to you, but it seems to apply."

"You were! You couldn't have been talking to anyone else!"

"The robot, actually. If I can be this honest with my son..." -- the man paused, letting a weight fall from his shoulders -- "my blood son...I can talk to him at least a little bit, can't I?"

"He's nice. Scary, sad, but nice. I wish I could talk to him."

Three hundred fifty feet tall. Just about as big as a Saturn V. From outer space. And he resonated with a little boy as much as a six-foot man with an armload of bad habits and a back forty full of regrets did. The next generation was in good hands. The man cleared his throat, then spoke. "You will. Someday you'll understand what he's been saying all this time. And then you can go to his home on the Moon."

"But no one's ever done that before!"

"Oh, how do you know? The important thing is, you *dream* of doing it. And you're not the first one to do that. Your mom and I, the friends I brought the Sentinel back with...we dreamed of it too. But most of all we dreamed of kids like you."

"You didn't dream very big." The boy's tone was teasing. Witty banter came to him like a knife through soft butter that had been left outside too long.

"No. I didn't. Turns out I didn't have to." The sun was setting. There was going to be a halo around the Moon tonight.

title: [SF] The Sentinel (image prompt, working title)

question: What does the story say about the boy?

answer: The boy is a fan of old Westerns and modern science fiction. He's smart and curious about the giant robot called the Sentinel. He asks his dad about it and learns that it came from outer space. His father and some friends accomplished the feat before his mother's death. His father gets annoyed for a bit about him asking too many philosophical questions. The boy thinks it would be cool to live on the moon and seems to have a habit of verbal teasing he got from his father.

question: What does the story say about asteroid mining?


text:
Indian-American Abhijit Banerjee, who jointly won the 2019 Nobel Economics Prize with his wife Esther Duflo and Harvard's Michael Kremer, said Monday that the Indian economy is "doing very badly" even as the government is increasingly recognising that there is a problem.

"The economy is doing very badly in my view," he told a press conference at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology after winning the prize.

When asked about his opinion on the state of the economy in India and its future, he said, "That's a statement not about what will work in the future but about what's going on now. That I'm entitled to have an opinion about."

Referring to the numbers put out by the National Sample Survey, that come out every 1.5 years and give estimates about the average consumption in urban and rural areas in India, Abhijit Banerjee said, "the fact that we see in that is that between 2014-15 and 2017-18, that number has slightly gone down. And that's the first time such a thing has happened in many many many many many years so that's a very glaring warning sign."

"There is an enormous fight going on in India about which data is right and the government has a particular view of (that) all data that is inconvenient to it is wrong. But nonetheless, I think that this is something that I think even the government is increasingly recognising that there is a problem. So the economy slowing very very fast. How fast we don't know, there is this dispute about data but I think fast," he said.

Abhijit Banerjee added that he does not know exactly what to do. "The government has a large deficit but right now it's sort of at least aiming to please everybody by pretending to hold to some budgetary targets and monetary targets," he said.

Abhijit Banerjee said that in his view when the economy is going into a "tailspin", is the time when "you don't worry so much about monetary stability and you worry a little bit more about demand. I think demand is a huge problem right now in economy."

Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman last week in Mumbai evaded a direct reply to a question on whether the government accepts there is an economic slowdown, and said the government is giving relief to all sectors who need help.

She said since the Budget in July, she has been meeting representatives of various industrial sectors, and sector-wise intervention is being made regularly.

Abhijit Banerjee, Esther Duflo and Harvard professor Michael Kremer jointly won the 2019 Nobel Economics Prize "for their experimental approach to alleviating global poverty".

[]

Official account of The Nobel Prize tweeted this image announcing the winners of the 2019 Sveriges Riksbank Prize in Economic Sciences in Memory of Alfred Nobel. (Photo: Twitter/@NobelPrize)

Abhijit Banerjee, 58, and French-American Duflo both work at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) while Kremer is at Harvard University.

In 2003, Abhijit Banerjee founded the Abdul Latif Jameel Poverty Action Lab (J-PAL), along with Duflo and Sendhil Mullainathan, and he remains one of its directors. He also served on the UN Secretary-General's High-level Panel of Eminent Persons on the Post-2015 Development Agenda.

J-PAL, a global network of antipoverty researchers that conducts field experiments, has now become a major center of research, backing work across the world.

Walking into the press conference to a round of applause and standing ovation, Abhijit Banerjee in his opening remarks said that it is "wonderful" to get the Nobel Prize "because it's a prize not, I think, for us, but also for the entire movement."

He said about 400 professors are associated in some way with J-PAL's work and are doing randomised control trials on issues as diverse as US school in the Appalachia to governance problems in Indonesia, getting children immunised in India and getting children under bed nets in Sub Saharan Africa.

"So, this is a movement that, in some ways, we are kind of the beneficiaries of. I think it's still going to be wonderful for the movement that this prize was given because I think it's going to make it a little easier to penetrate the many doors that you know are half-open to us or not quite open to us and hopefully bring the message of policy-based on evidence and hard thinking to many other places as well," he said.

When asked how does he feel about being the sixth Nobel laureate from Kolkata, he said "I assume they're all much more distinguished than me."

On what he hopes to do going forward, he said, "to be honest, we hope that we will get to do more of the same. I think we're actually quite excited about what we are doing. This was not work that we did a long time ago, we're excited about what we're doing now and it's fun. We're learning new things. I'm really excited to look at the results from our latest intervention."

"So I think what I hope this will do is just open more opportunities to do more inventive things, but I don't expect to do something entirely different. I think I'm content with what I'm doing and enjoying it very much," Abhijit Banerjee said.

question: What movement does Banerjee say his work represents?

answer: A movement of scientists and professors associated with J-PAL's work doing randomised control trials on diverse issues related to economics.