text:
_[TRUMP-CRIMINALLY-NEGLIGANT.JPG]_

_GREEN PARTY ENDORSES UPCOMING MARCHES FOR CLIMATE JUSTICE IN APRIL[TRUMP-CRIMINALLY-NEGLIGANT.JPG]_

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- GREEN PARTY leaders spoke out today about the environmental and public health threat posed by the Trump Administration's reckless industry-friendly actions, including attacks on regulations and Scott Pruitt's appointment to head the EPA.

The Green Party has endorsed upcoming marches for environmental and climate justice, including the March for Science, April 22 in Washington DC; the People's Climate Movement March for Jobs, Justice and the Climate, April 29 in Washington DC; and satellite climate marches throughout the U.S.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

GREEN PARTY OF THE UNITED STATES
http://www.gp.org
@GreenPartyUS

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
Thursday, March 16, 2017

CONTACT:
Scott McLarty, Media Coordinator, 202-904-7614, mclarty@greens.org

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Greens are continuing to promote the GREEN NEW DEAL as an alternative to regressive Republican and compromised Democratic policies.

QUOTES FROM GREENS

ANIKA OFORI, MEMBER OF THE LOUISIANA GREEN PARTY AND GREEN PARTY BLACK CAUCUS DELEGATE:

"The Trump administration's environmental agenda in the era of climate change can be compared with President Bush's inaction during the days before Hurricane Katrina's landfall in Gulf states -- except that the whole planet will suffer the consequences.

"Mr. Trump intends to eliminate the EPA's Global Climate Change Research Program, cut the EPA's $8 billion budget budget by 25%, and cancel funding for collection of methane emissions data from the fossil-fuel industry. Cuts to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration budget will endanger coastal communities that face rising sea levels. Republican commitment to dangerous coal energy is ceding the future to China, which is phasing out coal.

"As with Katrina, scientists are telling us what to expect. By refusing to to take concerted action against an approaching environmental disaster, Mr. Trump is criminally negligent. It is now more than ever time for a real progressive party to govern with progressive people and environment-centered policies".

DARRYL! L.C. MOCH, CO-CHAIR OF THE GREEN PARTY OF THE UNITED STATES:

"The Green Party condemns the president's plan to increase the already bloated military budget by $54 billion, which will feed more Pentagon boondoggles. The money will come from cuts for agencies that serve human and environmental needs.

"Mr. Trump will cut funding for cleanup of industrial waste that contains dangerous chemicals and radioactive waste in cities and towns across the U.S., as well as funding for local wastewater treatment facilities despite the continuing Flint water crisis.

"Last year, Green candidates and activists gathered along with thousands of other protesters led by Standing Rock Sioux against the Dakota Access Pipeline. On Jan. 24, Mr. Trump okayed construction of the pipeline. Greens will continue to support Standing Rock and we'll stand with others affected by Donald Trump's reckless disregard for human life and the health of our planet."

JUSTIN MCCARTHY, MEMBER OF THE DC STATEHOOD GREEN PARTY:

"Scott Pruitt serving as EPA administrator is like having a Mafia lawyer in the attorney general's seat. He has lied about the scientific consensus with his claim that CO2 is not a main contributor to global warming.

"Emails released after his confirmation show that fossil-fuel companies and electrical utilities regularly conferred with Mr. Pruitt and his staff, when he was Oklahoma Attorney General, on beating environmental protections. Mr. Pruitt demonstrated his hostility towards the agency and environmental regulation by filing lawsuits against the EPA. His refusal as nominee for EPA administrator to recuse himself from the lawsuits represents a blatant conflict of interest and suggest that he took the position with the intent to dismantle the EPA and repeal regulations".

MARK DUNLEA, GREEN PARTY OF NEW YORK STATE COMMITTEE MEMBER AND COORDINATOR OF 100% RENEWABLE ENERGY NOW NY:

"Saving our future from Donald Trump requires that everyone who cares about the health of our planet speak out and take extraordinary action. We're already seeing such action, with widespread street protest and civil disobedience, with legal strategies like the Children's Trust federal lawsuit ( https://www.ourchildrenstrust.org/us/federal-lawsuit ), and with the growing movement for clean, renewable energy. Republicans won't be able to stop renewables, which are boosting the U.S. economy and competing with fossil fuels -- even enriching Midwestern farmers and ranchers at $10,000 in annual royalties per wind turbine.

"We can't trust Democratic leaders to make global warming a national emergency. Hillary Clinton and the 2016 Democratic platform refused to oppose fracking and drilling and rejected carbon taxes. At the U.N. climate conferences, the Obama Administration made sure that international measures to prevent CO2 levels from rising above 2 degrees C would not be legally binding.

"We need to get Greens elected at every level of government, from local to national. We need to enact the Green New Deal. Two-party politics as usual will not solve the climate crisis."

SEE ALSO:

Green Party urges mass public pressure to reverse Trump's order approving the Dakota Access and Keystone XL pipelines
Press release: Green Party of the United States, January 25, 2017

This climate lawsuit could change everything. No wonder the Trump administration doesn’t want it going to trial
The Washington Post, March 9, 2017

Trump’s proposed NOAA cuts would disarm our coasts in the face of rising seas, scientists say
The Washington Post, March 9, 2017

Stand With Standing Rock

The severe, real-world casualties of Trump's EPA budget cuts
Environmental Defense Fund, March 3, 2017

Climate Scientist Slams Pruitt for Distorting Science of Global Warming
The Real News Network, March 14, 2017

Senators Demand Scott Pruitt Recuse Himself from All Issues Related to Lawsuits He Brought Against the EPA to Overturn or Weaken Clean Air and Water Pollution Rules
Press release: Sen. Ed Markey (D-Mass.), February 16, 2017

Thousands of emails detail EPA head’s close ties to fossil fuel industry
The Washington Post, February 22, 2017

Climate Change Denial, Democratic-style
By William Kaufman, CounterPunch, March 9, 2017

MORE INFORMATION

Green Party of the United States http://www.gp.org
202-319-7191
@GreenPartyUS

Green candidate database and campaign information
News Center
Ballot Access
Video
Green Papers
Google+
Twitter
Livestream
YouTube
Facebook
Green merchandise

Green Pages: The official publication of record of the Green Party of the United States

~ END ~

question: What does the article say about what Green Party thinks about the Trump Administration?

answer: Green Party calls Trump "criminally negligent" for reckless policies as the climate crisis worsens. They say that the Trump administration's environmental agenda can be compared with President Bush's inaction during the days before Hurricane Katrina's landfall in Gulf states- except that the whole planet will suffer the consequences. Trump's decision to cut the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration budget will endanger coastal communities that face rising sea levels. The Green Party condemns the president's plan to increase the already bloated military budget.

question: What does the article say about what Green Party thinks about Democrats?

answer: They think that the Democrats' policy is compromised and can't trust Democratic leaders to make global warming a national emergency. Hillary Clinton and the 2016 Democratic platform refused to oppose fracking and drilling and rejected carbon taxes. The Obama Administration made sure that international measures to prevent CO2 levels from rising above 2 degrees C would not be legally binding.

question: What does the article say about the Biden administration?


split: test

text:
[]

BY JAMES D. CROSBY

We lawyers are privileged to do interesting, significant and challenging work for the benefit of others. But we also need to make money to pay our bills, support our families and do the things we want to do — money to sustain our personal lives. So, we must figure out how to turn this interesting work we are privileged to do into a sustained flow of money that allows us to continue to do this interesting work we are privileged to do. Despite the public perception of lawyers rolling in dough, turning the practice of law into a profitable business, at least for a lot of lawyers, and especially young attorneys striking out on their own, is not always that easy. Last year, I published an article here providing “Tips for Solo Success.” With this article, I narrow my focus to provide tips for financial success as a solo or small firm.

To sustain any degree of long-term financial success, lawyers must run their legal practices like businesses. Fee arrangements with clients must be business deals with well-understood risks and benefits, and off-ramps for both sides if terms are not met. Lawyers do provide services guided by professional and ethical responsibilities. Requiring clients to meet their fee obligations, running efficient practices and turning good profits are not inherently at odds with those professional and ethical responsibilities. One can always choose to stay in a case too long for a non-paying client, or cut one’s fees to get a case, or make any number of bad business decisions in furtherance of case, cause or client. Sometimes, you just can’t walk away from the case, or the new client who can’t pay full freight really needs help and you can’t say no, or you just hang in with a slow-pay client because you like the guy and believe he will get you current in six months. We are all people driven by emotions, perceptions and impulses, good and bad, and not always by the calculated need to make money. But one needs to make those types of decisions fully understanding the likely ramifications and not with pie in the sky hope it will all work out. Run your practice like a business based on thoughtful, deliberate decision-making. That is the key to long-term success. Here are some tips to help you do just that and to help you find financial success in your practice:

1. SET MARKET RATES AND HOLD TO THEM.

This is, at times, a hard lesson to learn. Discounting your rates or fees to get new clients is bad business. It is a race to the bottom. There is always an attorney around the corner who will work cheaper than you. Your attorney time is valuable. It has a market value. Investigate the market, determine what your rate/fee should be and then stick to it. Discounting your rate/fee undermines your value to your practice, and the perception of your value to your client. If you want to give some money back to a good client, give a courtesy discount for work done.

2. GET FEE AGREEMENTS.

Needless to say, you are required to do so in most instances under State Bar Rules. So, there’s that.

But fee agreements are also just good business. They provide, in black and white, the obligations and expectations of both attorney and client. They set forth in detail how the attorney will be paid, how her fee will be calculated, and the ramifications of nonpayment. It provides exit points for attorney and client under articulated circumstances. It is the source and basis for any successful enforcement effort in the event the client breaches. Further, negotiation and execution of the fee agreement requires both attorney and client to reflect on the seriousness of, and significant obligations arising from, the to-be-undertaken work. It’s easy to say I want to sue so-and-so for this-and-that.

It requires more thoughtful reflection when to actually sue so-and-so for this-and-that; one has to sign a fee contract with significant financial commitments and pay a retainer.
And that is as it should be!

3. REQUIRE REPLENISHING RETAINERS.

Require a retainer in every case and the replenishment of that retainer if it falls below a predetermined level. If a prospective client cannot, or will not, provide a retainer, then that client is likely not serious about sustaining, has no idea what it costs to sustain or will not be able to sustain, the financial burden of the matter going forward. Set a fair minimum retainer on all your cases. Modify upward dependent on the nature and scope of the case. Tell prospective clients you have a minimum retainer on all cases and let them move on if they cannot meet that retainer. Don’t negotiate below your minimum retainer or, if you do, do so with the clear understanding that it is not a wise business practice. The replenishment requirement, if enforced, allows the attorney to remain current and above water in a matter on an ongoing basis. If the client does not meet the replenishment requirement, one can withdraw without getting significantly underwater on the fee. Plus, assessing and setting a fair retainer in a case requires the attorney to seriously consider and assess the nature, scope, cost and financial risk of the prospective matter. A “sign them up, worry about the fee later” approach to client generation is not good business.

[For Litigators Only]
3.5. GET TRIAL DEPOSITS!

If you’re not a litigator, you can move to #4. For litigators, seriously consider including a provision in your fee agreement that allows you to increase the retainer size as you move toward trial or other significant case events. Litigators are most at risk, financially, as cases ramp up for trial. The work, the fees, the costs increase, oftentimes explode, outpacing retainer levels set early in the case. Then, post-trial, one finds oneself in deep to a client, with a concluded matter, and a client wanting to negotiate the fee. It’s even worse when you didn’t get the desired result at trial. Include a provision that allows you, within a set time before a trial or other significant marker, to require a deposit of fees that fairly covers the cost of that event.

Not only does such a provision give the attorney some degree of protection from the risks of a trial, it also requires the attorney and client to seriously focus on and assess what the case will cost to go to trial and whether settlement is a viable alternative. Heading to trial with a case on financial cruise control is bad business.

4. RECORD TIME CONCURRENTLY.

Easy to say, hard to do. I hate recording time. Every attorney hates recording time. For those of us who principally work on an hourly basis, it is, without exception, the worst part of practicing law. But, in the context of running our businesses, it is the most important thing we do. That recorded time is the life blood for our practices. And our clients are entitled to fair billing, accurately reflecting what we did for them and what we are billing them for. The only fair and accurate way to record our time is to do it as we do the work. The major billing programs all have running clock features to record time as you work and mobile time-keeping functions for work on the go. They work great. It just takes discipline, excruciating discipline, to use them. In this age of email, we all have email road maps to create time entries for past work done. And, if we are honest, we will all admit to having done so, perhaps quite often. But, we really shouldn’t. It’s not fair to the client, it serves to delay prompt end-of-the-month billings and, for the attorney, invariably results in the under reporting of billable time. Further, it takes much more time to recreate billed time than it does to record the time while you work. So, if you don’t record while you work, you will ultimately end up spending more time, creating less accurate billings, which under report your actual billable time — spending more time to produce less accurate billings, which make you less money! Dumb, huh? Currently, I use the Time Capture function in TimeSlips — works perfectly when I am disciplined enough to use it, which is most, but surely not, always. But I try!

5. CAPTURE ALL BILLABLE EXPENSES.

Your fee agreement will detail what expenses are to be charged to the client and how they are to be charged. Promptly charge the client for and collect those expenses. Expenses are incurred and documented in many ways in this digital age. Many services, like filing fees and online research fees, are drawn directly from bank accounts with emailed receipts. These can get lost in the daily deluge of email, then not billed and recovered. A few unbilled filing fees or service charges a month can add up to a sizable chunk at year’s end. And, that’s money right out of your pocket. In my office, both my paralegal and I double check our draft bills at month-end against withdrawals reflected in my online operating account statement. We, invariably, catch charges, usually small ones, that otherwise may not have been billed. Try that approach — works for us.

6. BILL FAIRLY AND PROMPTLY.

Bill promptly at the end of your billing period. Cash flow is critical in a solo or small firm practice. Billing delays interrupt regular cash flow. Don’t sit on cashflow in the form of un-billed, un-invoiced time. You don’t bill promptly, you don’t get paid promptly, you can’t pay your bills or bring money home promptly. It’s pretty simple. Plus, prompt, regular billing creates a positive client perception of office efficiency. And, the more you delay your billing in a case, the more work you put into the case without corresponding case cash flow, placing yourself at greater financial risk in the case. And, bill fairly. Work and bill the case as and when required, and not as the billing calendar dictates. Do not cram in a bunch of work on a case into the last couple of days of the billing period just so you can squeeze it into this billing period as opposed to the next. Clients will see that and
properly question it.

7. RELIGIOUSLY MONITOR YOUR FINANCES AND PINCH EVERY PENNY.

Again, cash flow is king. Regularly monitor your collections, your billings and your expenses to maintain cash flow. If a client is not paying when she should, call her. On the expense side, buy what you need. Beyond that, pinch every penny. It’s not the big, fully vetted expenditures that hurt. You have done the cost-benefit analysis on those. It’s always the accumulated small expenditures that hurt. Get what you need — after that, pinch every penny!

8. ENFORCE FEE AGREEMENTS.

Enforce your fee agreements. If the client is not paying in accordance with the fee agreement, get out and move on to the next client. If the client will not replenish a retainer per the agreement, get out and move on to the next client. You are running a business. You need cash flow to meet your business obligations and take money home. Make sure the clients meet their contractual fee obligations. If they don’t, get out. You’re their lawyer, not their legal line of credit.

9. MAKE YOUR QUARTERLY TAX DEPOSITS.

Make your quarterly tax deposits. Religiously set aside the money you need to pay your taxes. Once you start slipping back on your tax set-asides/deposits, you will soon find yourself getting extensions on your returns to make the money to pay last year’s taxes. Been there, done that! It gets brutal and it’s a difficult cycle to get out of.

10. PURSUE ARBITRATION TO GET PAID.

This will be controversial, but I generally will not let a former client, who can pay, walk away from a bill for my services. It’s just not fair. I will let a client pay off a bill over time, even a long time, and will cut deals to get immediate payment. But, unless it is a fairly small amount or I am satisfied after investigation the client no longer has the ability to pay, I will enforce my agreement and pursue that unpaid bill through arbitration or otherwise. I have rarely been in that position and it has usually been because I did not follow my own advice noted above. And the accepted rationale for not doing so — the invitation of a cross-complaint for malpractice — is surely valid. But I will just not walk away from getting paid for my work. And in those rare instances where I have pursued enforcement of fee agreement, I have gotten paid and there was no malpractice claim. If I follow my own advice noted above, I should not find myself in that position again. And the vast majority of clients, including mine, are good people who understand their obligation to pay for their legal services, and make every effort to do so. So, hopefully, I never have to follow my own advice on this one again!

As a final and rather obvious piece of advice: Do excellent work and provide good service. Happy clients are paying clients!

_JAMES D. CROSBY is a business litigation and trial attorney. His website/legal blog is Trial Call at www.trialcall.net._

question: What does the author recommend for handling problem clients?

answer: The author generally recommends being proactive. Setting fee and retainer agreements (including replenishment), billing accurately and promptly, and being fair in advance are the general recommendations in addition to doing good work as a habit. In the case of litigation lawyers, the author advises setting up trial deposits to alleviate the excessive rise of costs around trial time compared to the initial period. The author thinks that it's good practice to enforce agreements and move on to the next client if a current one fails to meet expectations. Finally, the author recommends pursuing arbitration (even at the risk of a cross-complaint for malpractice) against former clients who didn't pay but are able to do so.

question: Summarize the author's advice for solo practitioners of law or small firms.

answer: Apart from always doing good work, the author recommends prompt tracking of time spent and billing. In general, the author recommends good financial tracking, negotiating with all the expenses in mind, agreeing to a fee beforehand, and requiring a retainer. It's also important to make sure clients are paying, and let those who don't pay, go. In the day-to-day operations, the author advises keeping good track of expenses, buying only necessary items and equipment, and penny-pinching beyond that. One of the more important pieces of advice the author gives is never negotiating a fee lower than the market rate, another is to keep time while doing the work for both accuracy and less hassle afterward. Finally, tax deposits should always be a priority.

question: What mistakes does the author mention in practicing law?

answer: The first one is offering discounts just to sign clients. Another payment-related one is neglecting to get fee agreements with all the future costs in mind. Furthermore, the author says he regretted not tracking time spent for a client concurrently with the work. Another big mistake is to neglect to handle taxes with priority.

question: What does the text say about using a pseudonym for law practice?


text:
"Why aren't you listening to the rain?"
Daito stared at the screen. "I don't know... I don't really care for what's outside. Do you enjoy listening to the rain?"
"Of course I do!", Aki immediately replied. "It reminds me of my childhood summers. I could stand endlessly in the rain, not caring about anything... just smiling at the sky."
"Didn't you get sick from that?" Daito replied, faking concern.
"Sometimes, I guess. But I didn't care. All I wanted was to not feel the city around me anymore. I imagined myself somewhere far away, where no concrete buildings and no cars would spoil my day."
"That sounds... great.", said Daito, almost disappointed. "I guess some days are beautiful."
"What memories do you have from the outside?" asked Aki.
“I don't know... my school days, maybe.”
“That’s it?”
“No, there’s more, of course. But those I remember more… vividly.
“I know” Aki replied. ”I remember so much stuff. The light of the rainy days, like it was always just a little menacing and just a little hopeful. I loved how the clouds would always open up somewhere, almost like obeying my commands. I’m not boring you, am I?”
“No, don’t worry.” Daito replied, almost afraid to say something wrong. “This helps me remember so many things, especially from the last spring. I loved coming home from school in the afternoon, when the sun was barely in the sky. It’s unreal.”
“What is?”, asked Aki.
"Like… how I realize I’d forgotten all these things and now they come back so clearly. The sounds of children that had just left school, sometimes running through the rain. The school bus, with that annoying honk that made everyone cover their ears..."
"I loved walking through the rain. I was always sad when my mom would hurry me home. But she's a parent, she doesn't know much!" said Aki.
Daito curled his lips and let out a sincere smile. "Yeah, they don't know anything. My dad still tries to convince me to go outside."
"What does he say?"
"That I need the air, the exercise, that I should meet others of my age and so on." Daito replied, barely watching the screen.
"My mom tries to scare me with any stupid thing she can come up with. Like how I'll get ugly and sick. Or how I'll regret all this when I'm old."
"And what do you say"?
"I tell her: IF I survive that long! But I know she can't understand. Things outside were better when she was my age. Less cars, less poison, less people. Give me that and I'll go outside!" Aki said with a fake smile.
"Haha, yeah." replied Daito, visibly enchanted by her outburst.
The cursor blinked solitary for a few seconds. Daito grabbed his soda and waited nervously.
"How long has it been for you?" Aki finally continued.
"In five days, it'll be exactly six months. You?"
"Let's see, I started somewhere in summer... so about eight or nine months, I guess. I wasn't sure at first, but after a few days I was like a newborn baby! I had found my new world!" said Aki, enthusiastic again.
"Do you... ever miss it?". Daito found himself almost surprised by the question.
"Neah, there's nothing out there for me. I got everything I need in here. The web, awesome people to talk to and - bonus - I still get to listen to the rain!”
"But that's still outside."
"Yes, well, I made it a part of my world. They can have everything else. I'm keeping my rain!"
After all this time, Daito didn't know what to think. But just like Aki, he couldn't confront his tension. What was this fear, he asked. He thought that others would at least help him justify his indecision.
"How do you keep busy?" asked Aki.
"You know, the usual. I browse almost non-stop, take some online courses, read some stuff, watch some stuff, spend a few hours in MMOs... the usual."
“Made any new friends or enemies?”
“I guess I did.”
“Are they all, you know…” Aki said, with convincing curiosity.
“Um, yeah, from what I know, yes. Not that I only speak with those that are, but they understand my choice without asking stupid questions.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Aki jumped in. “I didn’t want to bother you with my questions!”
“What, no! I wasn’t talking about you. I enjoyed the conversation. No stupid questions here.”
“Good to hear! So, am I keeping you from doing something really important?”
“No, not really. I was taking a break after another raid and thought I should see any new subjects related to my, uh, homework. Your reply caught my attention and I wanted to clarify some things about it.”
“I love poetry! said Aki. I’ve loved it since I was 12. And even then I was asking what was wrong with me for discovering it so late!”
“Do you still write?” Daito asked, with the trace of a shy smile.
“Of course I do! I don’t know if I could live without it. It’s my bread and butter! Well, my literal bread and butter. You know, because it’s related to literature. God, this must be the worst joke on the whole web.”
“No, I love it!” said Daito, laughing. “I might even copy it.”
“Please do, Aki replied, with joking affection. “Anyway, how is the project going?”
“Good enough, I guess. I have to write a poem starting from the verses I mentioned in my post.”
“I walk under the linden trees, I’ve life in me to spare for all?” asked Aki. That’s it, said Daito. “Excellent memory..”
“There’s sooo many ways you can take this now!” continued Aki, almost euphorically.
“Yeah, like what?”
“Well, let’s see. You can talk about what season this takes place in and then describe everything that’s beautiful about it. You could continue by mentioning the smell of linden and what it reminds you of. How does the smell inspire you and makes you so ecstatic that you have “life to spare for all”.”
“Sounds good. I had some ideas but I hope you won’t mind if I adopt some of yours.”
“Not at all, young bard!” Aki replied.
“Haha. Me, a bard. That’s a new one. I couldn’t write a decent poem if it hit me in the face!” said Daito.
“I sure hope you won’t have to get hit in the face! Regardless, poetry is everywhere. Just like with everything else in life, reach out and grab it!”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m not that great with grabbing what I want…”
“Don’t worry” said Aki. “It’s a skill just like any other. The more you practice it, the better you get. Just like poetry.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep this in mind while writing my poem”.
“Care to share some of the ideas you had for it?” asked Aki.
“Sure, I don’t mind embarrassing myself just a bit. Two verses I thought could work were: ‘And life itself I shall release’ or ‘I make my way towards the rain’...
Before Daito could say anything else, Aki wrote in a panic: “RAIN! YOU LIKE RAIN!”
“I guess.” replied Daito, visibly charmed again.
“I knew it! But who doesn’t like rain, right?”
“Technically, I don’t think everyone likes rain.”
“Oh, don’t spoil my moment. What’s important is that you added that most magical of ingredients: rain!”.
“Well, I’m not sure if any of these verses will make it in…” said Daito.
“Here’s the better idea: both of these verses make it in. Plus - bonus - some of my ideas. If you want too, of course.”
“Thanks for the help, by the way. I was stuck a bit, that’s why I made that post asking for ideas”.
“The pleasure is all mine!” said Aki, prepared to erupt with as many verses as necessary. “Poetry just comes to me… naturally. I do have to work to find it, but it’s not like I can stay away from it for too long.”
“Then I was lucky to find you.” said Daito
“I’m glad. I didn’t find many occasions to put my poetry skills in action on the web. This a first, actually. Apart from my own stuff, I mean.”
“Well, you’re ahead of me. And I might need assistance in the future if I want to complete the assignment.”

Outside, thunder started to fade. Colored light strips would slowly make their way toward Aki and Daito’s windows. Unknowingly, both of them would hear the same sounds, the same intensity of departing rain and see the same first rays of light.

title: [RF] Hikikomori: Rain

question: What does the text say about hurricanes?

question: What does the text say about the relationship between Daito and Aki?

answer: Daito and Aki seem to be chat mates who meet exclusively online because they both choose to stay indoors. They enjoy each other's company, talking about what they remember about going outside and what they do all day online. They think they know better than their parents. Daito is writing a poem and Aki offered to help.


text:
Hey Reddit! This is a short I wrote for my schools writing competition last semester. Somehow I won! I was super happy, but the school is rather small, so I thought I'd reach out for some feedback from a source with a broader opinion. Thanks for taking your time to read this!

**A Captain's Oath**

Golden stalks of grain danced in the wind as we sped past them. The field around me undulated in the wind like a tumultuous sea. The setting sun bathed the world in red and orange, glaring harshly through my back seat window. Dust from the road coated the glass, masking the outside world in a hazy gauze.

Lost in a world of my own, I imagined the oncoming truck to be a majestic galleon, flying the royal colors of the evil king.

“Helmsman! Bring er’ round to broadside!” I shouted to my mother in the front seat. She jumped, swerving our car out of the lane onto the shoulder of the road. The car behind us honked ferociously as it sped around us.

“What did I say? Stop your stupid games, sit down, and shut up!” She spat.

“Aye, captain,” I murmured quietly, so she wouldn’t hear. I returned to my window, defeated.

I tried to make out the murky shapes in the distance. Was that a sea serpent peeking its head above the waves? Had some monster of the deep braved the airy world to satisfy its curiosity of the land dwellers?  I turned to my mother, desperate to question her about the “lock-less” monster the older kids at school had warned me about. But Mother didn’t appreciate questions. I looked back to the window, watching for more monsters.

I tried to give up my musing to watch the lines of the road zip by. The tiny reflectors picked up our car headlights and gleamed brilliantly. I couldn’t help but imagine a group of sea creatures flaunting their fluorescent bodies. Our vessel glided over the glassy waters they danced together in, oblivious of the magic below it.

Every summer we made this trip. We spent hours on empty highways in silence, save for the occasional static filled radio channel or empty conversation. We were headed to my father’s house, or in my mind, home.

I treasured the few precious holidays I spent with him. Normally, he would have met us halfway to liberate me, but he had been called to an important meeting. I imagined how I would have rejoiced in my freedom, shouting orders to my father.

*“Veer slightly right, Captain!”* I would have commanded.

*“Nay, landluver! Tis starboard ye’ be wantin!”* He would have replied in his best seafaring accent.

I groaned in frustration.

I hated how boring it was with her. My choice of literature quickly became contraband. “Magic and fantasy,” she would say, “are inappropriate for a young christian boy.” Video games and secular music were often subjects of debate as well, and she usually confiscated anything she could lay her hands on.

Imagination was my only refuge when my mother came home howling and sobbing again. It became my best friend when she would announce year after successive year that we would be moving, so she could find a new job or meet a new man. I often wondered where “home” would be when I returned from my visits.

So, instead of reading my copy of Harry Potter tucked neatly away in a corner pocket of my backpack, or playing on the GameBoy I’d smuggled in my jacket, I watched the road speed by.

My imagination became the adventure I longed for. There I could be the handsome airship pilot, standing behind a polished wooden helm, studying the clouds drift lazily below me. Sometimes I was an edgey detective, tailing a suspicious broad in a rainy, monochrome street. Other days, I was a wizened and greying wizard standing in my tower above the city, creating a spectacle of light for the people below to marvel at. When it rained I was a dark and mysterious ranger, inching my way through a forest and searching for my prey. Most days I was the captain of a sea vessel, strong and courageous, barking orders to my crew.

The sun had set and the moon stood vigil over the land. The ever silent sentinel cast light over the sea of grain. I wondered what kind of crew would be bunking on my ship at this time of night. Would my ship be manned by the most dastardly dogs of the rough seas? Would I pirate and loot the great, rich, pompous cities of the world and spread my wealth to the poor? Or would I be a member of the most dashing and refined men to ever set sail, treading new waters for kings? I liked to imagine I would be the former.

“Son,” my mother interrupted my thoughts, “Look, I know I’m hard on you sometimes, and moving to and fro all the time isn’t easy for you,” She turned to me, her face stern and beautiful as always, “And I’m sorry. But I love you very much, and I only want what’s best for the both of us.” Her face softened as she turned back to the road. “It’s hard for me too.”

I sat silently, my imagination stilled.

“I know sometimes you think of moving to your father’s house like you other siblings did, but I need someone to be the man of the house, son,” she said. “Please don’t leave me, okay? Will you promise to stay and be my captain?”

She was right, I wanted to escape sometimes, but I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her alone. Besides, she could take away my books and games, but my imagination was my own.

“Aye” I promised her.

And that seemed to make everything okay.

title: [RF] A Captain's Oath

question: What does the story say about the boy's relationship with his parents?

answer: His mother tells him to stop his stupid games and shut up when he plays make believe that they're on a ship. His father would have been much more likely to play along. The boy hates how boring it is with his mother. She doesn't think magic and fantasy is appropriate for him, and is also wary of video games and secular music, so she confiscates a lot of his things. Despite all this, his mother loves him and wants what's best for both of them. Though the boy has sometimes thought of going to live with his father, he agrees to stay with her.

question: What does the story say about the reason for the divorce?


text:
	Fifty more MISSING posters came out of the office’s copier. “Thanks Mr. Reynolds.” The nervous man straightened out the stack of papers, hands shaking.
	“Not a problem Ed, anything to help find your boy.”
	“I promise I’ll pay the company back for all the paper-”
	Mr. Reynolds cut him off, “Fuck the company Ed.”
	Ed lowered his head and nodded, “Right, right.”
	He left the office feeling the same way he had for several days: drained, drained but determined. Police were on the case, or so they said, but Ed was glad his boss was doing what he could to help, it meant he didn’t have to carry the whole weight on his own. They hadn’t always gotten along and it was nice to not butt heads in a situation like this. Usually they bickered about the company’s finances or ways to keep clients, but Mr. Reynolds, a stern man, knew those things were petty compared to a missing person.
	Much later, as Ed drowsily stapled a poster to a telephone pole, a woman in high-heels and a poofy fur coat slithered over to him, “You lookin’ for some action sweetheart? It’s awful chilly tonight,” she crossed her arms and rubbed the sleeves up and down, “I’m nice n’ warm.” Ed’s eyes were unwelcoming. Hers fell to the posters clutched in his hand and then drifted to the pole, “Shit, never mind mistah.” She turned away but he grabbed her by the shoulder.
	“I used to be a cop, I know a girl like you has connections. Pimp, governor, somebody.” He handed her a poster.
	“Yeah, yeah sure, no problem.” Into the night he walked, the woman looking after him, sorrowful, “Good luck mistah old cop,” she said to herself, “good luck.”
	She sighed and looked over the paper. MISSING was in bold letters, there was a phone number and a picture of a young man aged 25. His name was Daniel Braunstein, (”That’s stein like clean, not stein like spine” often said Ed) in Universe Code: #Orange-White a father sought a son. In UC: #Beta-12 however, the poster read WANTED for Extra-Spatial Abduction and Space-Time Tampering.
-

-
	He felt cold and wet for a second, but back to unconsciousness Danny slipped.
	“Wake up!” Splash!
	Cold and wet again, Danny began to stir, “Wha’s going on?” The back of his captor’s hand struck his face. When he went to rub his cheek, he found his wrists bound to the chair he was sitting in, legs also. He could make out a figure in the darkness.
	“Not another peep!”
	“Just gag…him.” A woman somewhere behind Danny made herself known. “You won’t…” she struggled, “need him until…the end anyway.” Turning his head to find her, all Danny could see was blackness. A few lights glowed here and there, but nothing bright enough to see the whole room.
	“Oh, you probably would like to see mommy again.” Dropping something metal with a clang, the captor twisted his abductee’s head toward the woman and shined a flashlight on her. A hand clamped on Danny’s mouth before his yell of surprise hit the air.
	A metal , almost crown-like ring was screwed into her skull, blood coming from the punctures.
	“I couldn’t use yours obviously, but my own will work just fine. Just had to say I loved her and she was stupid enough to come.”
	“Any…thing for my boy.” She gave a weak smile, tears streaking involuntarily from the pain.
	“Years of drugs warping her mind convinced her to come as well.” He removed his hand and went to her, Danny unable to see his face. The captor reached into his pocket and brought out a small baggie of white powder. He carefully shook some onto the flashlight, “Like warm milk.” And put it up to Mrs. Braunstein’s nose. She snorted immediately and laughed.
	With the drug given, he killed the flashlight and stood at a cluster of small lights. Fiddling with something or just observing, Danny didn’t know: the shock of seeing his mother alive wouldn’t let his eyes function properly enough to tell.
	“How…my mom’s been dead for six years.”
	“Pay attention, my own, not yours.” A silhouette walked to Danny. A click, light, and a familiar smile he had seen in the mirror his entire life.
	“Boo. Guess who?” His own face.
-

-
	Prof. Lehrer drew a straight horizontal line on the lecture hall’s large chalkboard and tried to explain again to Ed parallel universes, “This line, yes? Our timeline and universe.” Ed was already lost, his deceased wife, Anne, was where Danny got his smarts from. Still, Lehrer continued, “This other line on top,” he drew a parallel line above the first, “this is a parallel and alternate world separate from our own.”
	“Speak English.” Ed was getting frustrated.
	“Okay um…ah! Say you flip a coin and you get heads,” Lehrer wrote an ‘H’ on the bottom line, “and now in the alternate reality where your son was taken, Beta-twelve, you might have gotten tails instead.” He drew a ‘T’ now on the top line and dusted the chalk off his hands, “Quite simple.”
	“So how many are there?”
	“How many what?”
	“The lines, worlds.”
	“An infinite number. You ate dinner later than usual one day here and skipped desert or another you ate early and had a banana split or another you can’t even chew dinner because your teeth rotted away. Every possibility.”
	“And Beta-twelve is where Danny is? How the hell do you know that?”
	“Alpha, the first universe that the known realities concluded was the first to contact a parallel world. John F. Kennedy from Alpha spoke to a grieving Jackie the day after he was killed in what we call now Universe Beta. Alpha does its best to monitor communication since it seems to know the most about contacting alternates.”
	“Did the Alphas tip our Earth off to something fishy? Do they know how my son got taken?” Ed had a load of questions firing in his head all at once.
	“Yes, and you’re not going to like this. A Daniel Braunstein from the Beta group was the first person to break through into the Color group, more specifically here, Orange-White.”
	“’Break through’? What…?”
	“Contact is relatively easy to us now, but physically moving realities…well let’s just say it can get complicated. The known groups have agreed visitation is off-limits because of the…currently known procedure. But enough about that, too complicated.”
	“Complicated how Lehrer?” Impatience growing.
	The professor paced back and forth for a brief moment before finally slumping down into a seat in the lecture hall, “It requires a neurological implosion, I know I know, English. Imagine a human brain as a bullet, kind of, you fire it, killing the person, and the shot can take you to an alternate reality…with other equipment of course.”
	“Who took Danny? Who took my son Lehrer?!” Ed bent down at the professor and held his shoulders firmly as he yelled at him.
	“Your son’s alternate from Beta-twelve. The one that broke through before. He essentially kidnapped himself. For the trip back he used a pair of twins,” he sighed and put his face in his hands, “he needed two to bring this Danny with him.”
	Ed could hardly speak, his head felt like a carnival strongman whacked it with a mallet. Finally he asked, “Why take him? Why take my boy?”
	“That’s what we don’t know.”
-

-
	The police had flooded the derelict, decrepit warehouse with lights aimed through the windows,  and Danny could now see what Daniel had called “my way out.” As Daniel began firing up what Danny believed to be the machine’s power source, someone outside with a bullhorn barked, “We have the place covered Frankenstein! Get out here now!”
	“Ugh, these fuckers again. Like annoying gnats, know what I mean Danny boy?”
	Danny’s head was throbbing. Seeing his mother again, even if it wasn’t really his mother, made his heart feel sore. Why did this madman still get to have her in his life? This frustration made his headache worse. Tinkering with a console of dials and buttons, Daniel began rubbing his forehead and groaned.
	“You too, Frankenstein?” mocked Danny.
	Daniel looked at him with disdain. He hated that name, “Do not call me that. If you knew the things I’ve done to earn that mutilation of our last name, you’d be frightened into silence. And the reason why our heads hurt is because we’re existing at the same time. Nature doesn’t like that.”
	“That nickname doesn’t work though, does it? Because it’s stein like clean-”
	“Not stein like spine. I guess some things aren’t so different. The headaches will go away once I’m gone, though prison might give you another one.” He crossed the room to a large, metal cylinder with two doors on it that were closed. Daniel knocked on it, “Last train to Lime-Teal. I used dad to get there the first time.”
	Danny’s heartache doubled, “Was it fucking worth it?”
	“Don’t judge me when you don’t even know how horrible he was. He deserved to die.” He turned away from Danny and turned a dial, “We’re dead in Lime-Teal, stillborn. Nature has forgotten Daniel Braunstein, I’ll have a fresh start.”
	Daniel’s mother began to cough violently and after the fit she collapsed to the floor.
	Daniel stormed over to her, “You better be alive you cunt.” He checked for a pulse but cursed when he couldn’t find one.
	“Untie me, quick!” said Danny, “I know CPR!”
	Daniel pulled out a small gun held by his belt, “Try something and you’re dead, I can just get another you from someplace else.”
	“Fine, just hurry up she doesn’t have much time.”
	Outside, the policeman barked again, “This is a final warning! Thirty more seconds and we’re coming in to light you up!”
	Daniel shot out a window. He could hear the “get down” order and that bought him more time. Furiously, he untied Danny from the chair. Once free, he and Daniel rolled Beta-12 Anne Braunstein over onto her back. Frantically pumping and giving mouth-to-mouth, Danny mimicked what he had seen in countless movies, and to his surprise, Anne’s eyes flickered open.
	“Holy shit I did it.”
	“Back in the chair, now!”
	The rusty, metal folding chair was Danny’s chance. As soon as he was close enough, he gripped the back of it and swung it wildly around. It hit Daniel with a solid blow to the head. Feeling relieved and satisfied, Danny picked up the gun. Boom. Boom. Someone was trying to bust down the door from the outside. The police would be inside soon.
	“Use…me to get…home.” Daniel’s mother said weakly, “They’ll kill you…both,…won’t take any…chances.”
	“No.” Danny’s eyes began to water, “You can’t die again.” Tears ran down his face now, “I’ve missed you so much mom.” He walked over and kissed her on the forehead.
	“I’m not her.”
	With those words, it was as if he had seen his mother disappear. He realized a stranger was in front of him, and she was right, she wasn’t her at all. He took a deep breath, wiped his face with his hands, and dropped the gun. Approaching the machine, he marveled at it, “He made all this…” Next to the console was a computer screen. Currently, LIME-TEAL was the set destination, “I wonder…” His fingers hovered over the keyboard. They began to tingle.
	“You want to do it, don’t you?” Daniel’s head was bleeding, but he managed to lift it slightly, “Go ahead, I know how curious you are. We are the same, we both want to know what else is out there, who we are in other realities. We were born to be scientists Danny!”
	Danny closed his eyes and sighed, it scared him how right Daniel was. He had to choose, “I will not be Frankenstein.” He scrolled through a list of universes on the screen until he found ORANGE-WHITE. Home. The machine whirred, a train that switched tracks. He swung open the doors of the cylinder and stepped inside. A big red button was on the inside and while pushing it, he turned to the woman on the ground, “I’m sorry.” With a blinding flash, the metal crown zapped Beta-12 Anne Braunstein to death and the cylinder was empty. Danny was gone.

title: Crimes Against Reality

question: Why was Danny captured?

answer: This information can't be found.

question: What was the machine that Danny stepped into?

answer: It may be implied that the machine was some sort of a time machine that transported Danny somewhere else.

question: What does the story say about the woman along with Danny?

answer: The story suggests that while Danny thought the woman was his mother, in reality, she wasn't. Danny realizes this towards the end of the story.

question: Does the police make it inside the building?

answer: This information can't be found. Although, it should be noted that even if they did, they would not find Danny there.


text:
Working Title, unfinished...

The truck ambles up the steep slope of the roadway - she groans and
moans and whirs a sickly myriad of regurgitation and I pat the dash.
"Easy girl, few more clicks, promise, darling," I purr to her. I look
over at you and I wonder quietly if you know, if you have the skill to
read minds and, if you did, if you knew that what was coming was an
awful, awful lot of inexplicable nothingness. An atheist's belief. A
blank sheet of canvas ready to start anew as bones disintegrate into
whisps of timeless soot.

Of course, I knew.

I knew that this road led to that road, and then the final turn would lead us to a resort that
would be the final resting place. The 'Excessum Specus', I thought,
humourlessly. You cheered delightfully when I suggested it, and I felt
a sickened sense of guilt ride up my throat from my belly. I held your
hand as we clicked through corridors of the internet to find the
perfect romantic spot. You talked for days, you packed for days, you
swam in your simple, beautiful way of happiness for days, and for days
I couldn't and just wouldn't even consider telling you that I knew
what I know.

I bought the truck several years ago from a drifter that may or may
not have lived at the residence that he was squatting in. He seemed
eager to get rid of her, and, at $1,500, thinking I could either love
her or turn a monumental and even record-breaking profit, I followed
suit and eagerly shook his hand to seal the proposition. He handed me
the keys to my new darling after I had returned from the bank, and I
handed him a thick wad of 15 crisp hundreds, "hot off the presses,"
the clerk had pipped happily. The drifter swatted them from my hand
like a ridiculous thief and he skipped off down the street. I tossed
the keys in the air and whistled a sexy cat-call as my fingers ran
over her body delicately. I stayed in that spot for what seemed like
several hours, examining every nuance of my new lady. I've never been
one for knowing the inner-workings of the marvelous beasts we putter
around in throughout our daily lives, but having owned more than a
handful in my some thirty-years of life, I've grown to have an
unspoken degree of respect for them. And this one, this slick,
beautiful girl that I had obtained and was petting oh so gingerly, was
no exception. She was a creamy, luxurious white, like fresh, hot nail
polish on a call-girl's fingernails.

I fell into a deep chasm of love for her; my fingers traced every inch of her exterior from grill to
tail-light. I fingered the dash interior softly, caressing each gauge
that lay behind perfectly dirty glass. I slid my fingertips around the
knobs that tune and regulate the blasts of air and music that would
accompany me for the next millennium. She was imperfect, she was
flawed, she was a perpetual list of synonyms for a blemished vehicle,
but oh, she was mine. She was mine. I thought of the previous owners
for a moment, I thought of the drifter for half a moment, and I
thought of my future with her for what seemed like another billion
years. Trips, parties, love-making, fights, blinding sun-lit mornings,
eerily peaceful and calm nights where the night just swallowed me and
her whole like a helpless fly in a trap; I remember my heart beating
to the rhythm of the ideas that churned out like chocolates along an I
Love Lucy conveyor belt. I felt myself sink into her seat, the
seven-Postmeridian sun slowly turning her coordinates to travel, to
awaken the other half of the world. I slid the key into the ignition
(oh, what a satisfying click it made), and I turned her to start. She
roared alive like a leopard plotting revenge. I never thought of
selling her again.

"The brochure said:," I put one hand on the wheel and raise the other,
and speak in what I think is my best Shakespearean actor impression,
"'Come with tired hearts, leave with happy farts!'" You laugh and the
sun makes your eyes seem like rubies. "With a slogan like that, you
know we're in for a treat, if not a relaxing one, and don't forget
there's-," you interrupt and tell me you know of all the things we can
do, your words passing by giggling lips and perfect teeth. You tell me
you're looking forward to the Queen Sized bed the most, and you wink
and I feel my stomach flip like a half-cooked hamburger, minutes away
from being the perfect, succulent slab of meat for the gorging. Your
face drops into seriousness, which is one of things that I love so
much about you; how you can go from hysterics to complete,
lawyer-standing-at-the-podium dead pan, and you tell me with that you
"without a doubt" want to try everything at least once. Your finger
raises in the air as you speak, punctuating each hope and dream. You
tell me that you're tired of being afraid of everything, that you want
to rock-climb, bungee-jump, and, even though I don't have the heart to
beg to differ, you tell me you want to scuba dive. I knew for a fact
that there was no such recreational opportunity at this resort.
Instead, I just smile, I shift into a lower gear, and I turn the last
left-hand turn I knew I'd ever take in my life. I grip my darling's
steering wheel tightly and I try, oh do I try, to hold back the tears
as I hear your hands excitedly pat-pat-pat your lap in a tuneless bout
of glee.

Like a freight train, the thoughts that I’ve been trying to ignore for what seems like forever, they plough into me. I thought I had forgotten them, or at least stored them away in a dusty filing cabinet for purposes that I can only, and begrudgingly, label as ‘unwanted, but necessary’. Yet they heave themselves, thick and gooey and fresh like a picked scab, into my mind. My eyes flutter like a silent movie reel and I feel a hot slug of vomit creep up from inside me. I quickly but quietly slip out of our bed, leap into the bathroom and inhale a gushing relief of cool tap-water. Bent over the sink, I let several leagues-under-the-sea wet my lips, breathing in mist and white-noise.

These thoughts are a juggernaut, I think to myself, a modern-day and dangerous Hydra. They reproduce and reproduce and reproduce with every slaying swing of my sword. It’s best to just stop fighting and deal with the number of heads at hand, as they tower over me. I slowly shut the faucet. I stand in the door frame now, my hands supporting me. Your laptop’s screensaver swirls on the desk and, without looking back, I decide to take advantage.

I open a new document and hesitate. The slightly dimmed screen starts to mock me. Its smirk is a pixel blip – a line – a dash that continuously pulses like a primitive heartbeat; digital routine work, pumping default information which is ready and willing for input. I, for some reason, imagine the possibility that my heartbeat is in rhythm. I imagine that my body is ready and willing for something to signal my gears and ligaments to move from dormancy and that I can turn to you and look at you and watch you sleep. Hoping that I’ll be able to watch the just awoken sun crawl across your skin; the tiny hairs, like immaculate peaches, react to the warmth and gentle caress of light, stand on end with unbeknownst-to-you-goose-bumps as a bar of sunshine slowly and methodically scans a carbon copy of you. Your impeccable perfection immortalized into infinity. Infinity that I can keep in my back-pocket, giving me the complete knowledge that, as everything smudges and gets swept away by an end-all-be-all eraser, I can relax, fold my arms, trust inevitability and fall backward into limbo. No matter where I land, where my feet finally touch from their as of yet undetermined length of travel, I’ll be able to take you out of my pocket and remember that you were what once held me together in days yonder.

The clock on the desk, situated around a plentiful array of pamphlets detailing the activities one can do on the grounds, points stiffly to 6:28.

And then you shift in your sleep. I jump instinctively, fear rippling in a jolt through my veins. It takes me several degrees of the clock’s ticking second-hand to realize that everything, in this moment, is fine. I inhale a deep breath and notice what my wandering fingers must have typed as I was lost in thought. I quickly backspace ‘The End’, and I momentarily think about how easily it is to reverse time in a written world with just a keystroke. Still, the heartbeat pumps.

My fingers dangle over the keyboard and finally, I turn to you. Everything is perfect. A keystroke in my mind temporarily backspaces ‘The End’.

And I type: “Last night was fun ;) I love you more than I love pancakes. I’ll be back with some.”

Quietly, I slip through a crack in the door that just allows me to exit, and I close it behind me.

title: The Reset Weekend - Would love feedback on style.

question: What does the story say about the name of the resort?

question: What role does the homeless drifter play in the story?

answer: The drifter sold his truck to the narrator for $1,500 several years ago. The narrator thought it was a bargain for what he was getting in return.

question: What does the story say about the relationship between the narrator and his truck?

answer: The narrator falls in love with the truck he got from the drifter. He treats it like a woman, running his fingers over the truck's "delicate" body and examining every nuance of his "new lady" for hours. The narrator thinks the truck is slick, with creamy and luxurious white paint, like hot nail polish on a call girl's fingernails. He caressed everything - from the truck's dash to the taillights. The narrator imagined all the adventures he and his truck would have together for the next millennium. Parties, trips, love-making, fights, sun-lit mornings, and peaceful nights. When the narrator slid the key into the ignition and fired her up, the truck roared like a leopard plotting revenge and he never thought of selling her again.


text:
By Barry Rubin

What is most important to understand about the revelations of massive message interception by the U.S. government is this:

In counterterrorist terms, it is a farce. Basically the NSA, as one of my readers suggested, is the digital equivalent of the TSA strip-searching an 80 year-old Minnesota grandmothers rather than profiling and focusing on the likely terrorists.

There is a fallacy behind the current intelligence strategy of the United States, the collection of massive amounts of phone calls, emails, and even credit card expenditures, up to 3 billion phone calls a day alone, not to mention the government spying on the mass media. It is this:

The more quantity of intelligence, the better it is for preventing terrorism.

In the real, practical world this is—though it might seem counterintuitive—untrue. You don't need--to put it in an exaggerated way--an atomic bomb against a flea. The intelligence budget is not unlimited, is it? Where should hiring priorities be put?

And isn't it absurd that the United States can't finish a simple border fence to keep out potential terrorists, can't stop a would-be terrorist in the U.S. army who gives a power point presentation on why he is about to shoot people (Major Nadal Hassan), can't follow up on Russian intelligence warnings about Chechen terrorist contacts (the Boston bombing), or a dozen similar incidents must now collect every telephone call in the country? A system in which a photo shop clerk has to stop an attack on Fort Dix by overcoming his fear of appearing "racist" to report a cell of terrorists or brave passengers must jump a would-be "underpants bomber" from Nigeria because his own father's warning that he was a terrorist was insufficient?

And how about a country where terrorists and terrorist supporters visit the White House, hang out with the FBI, advise the U.S. government on counter-terrorist policy (even while, like CAIR) advising Muslims not to cooperate with law enforcement, and are admiringly quoted in the media yet a documented, detailed revelation of this behavior in MERIA Journal by Patrick Poole, which should bring down the government, "Blind to Terror: The U.S. Government's Disastrous Muslim Outreach Efforts and the Impact on U.S. Middle East Policy." does not get covered by a single mass media outlet?

Imagine this scene:

  _"Sir, we have a telephone call about a potential terrorist attack!"_

  "Not now, Smithers, I'm giving a tour of our facility to some supporters of Hamas and the Muslim Brotherhood."

Or howabout the time whenthe U.S. Consulate in Jerusalem had a (previously jailed) Hamas agent working in their motor pool with direct access to the vehicles and itineraries of all visiting US dignitaries and senior officials.

Instead of this kind of thing the two key tasks of counterterrorism are as follows:

First, it is not the quantity of material that counts but the need to locate and correctly understand the most vital material. This requires your security forces to understand the ideological, psychological, and organizational nature of the threat.

Second, it is necessary to be ready to act on this information not only in strategic but in political terms.

For example, suppose the U.S. ambassador to Libya warns that the American compound there may be attacked. No response. Then he tells the deputy chief of mission that he is under attack. No response. Then the U.S. military is not allowed to respond. Then the president goes to sleep without making a decision about doing anything because communications break down between the secretaries of defense and state and the president, who goes to sleep because he has a very important fund-raiser the next day. But don't worry because three billion telephone calls by Americans are daily being intercepted and supposedly analyzed.

In other words, you have a massive counterterrorist project costing $1 trillion but when it comes down to it the thing repeatedly fails. In that case, to quote the former secretary of state, ""What difference does it make?"

If one looks at the great intelligence failures of the past, these two points quickly become obvious. Take for example the Japanese surprise attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. U.S. naval intelligence had broken Japanese codes. They had the information needed to conclude the attack would take place. Yet a focus on the key to the problem was not achieved. The important messages were not read and interpreted; the strategic mindset of the leadership was not in place.

Or, in another situation, the plan of Nazi Germany to invade the USSR in 1941 or of the time and place of the Allied invasion of Normandy beach in 1944 was not assessed properly, with devastating results. Of course, the techniques were more primitive then, but so were the means of concealment.

For instance, the Czech intelligence services, using railroad workers as informants, knew about a big build-up for a German offensive against the USSR. Soviet leader Joseph Stalin overrode the warnings. Soviet analysts predicting a Nazi invasion were punished. Nothing would have changed if more material was collected.

So what needs to be in place, again, is to focus on the highest priority material, to analyze correctly what is available, to have leaders accept it, and to act. If the U.S. government can't even figure out what the Muslim Brotherhood is like or the dangers of supporting Islamists to take over Syria, or the fact that the Turkish regime is an American enemy, or can't even teach military officers who the enemy is, what's it going to do with scores of billions of telephone call traffic to overcome terrorism? It isn't even using the intelligence material it already has!

If, however, the material is almost limitless, that actually weakens a focus on the most needed intelligence regarding the most likely terrorist threats. Imagine, for example, going through billions of telephone calls even with high-speed computers rather than, say, following up a tip from Russian intelligence on a young Chechen man in Boston who is in contact with terrorists or, for instance, the communications between a Yemeni al-Qaida leader and a U.S. army major who is assigned as a psychiatrist to Fort Hood.

That is why the old system of getting warrants, focusing on individual email addresses, or sites, or telephones makes sense, at least if it is only used properly. Then those people who are communicating with known terrorists can be traced further. There are no technological magic spells. If analysts are incompetent, blocked from understanding the relationship between Islam and terrorism, bound up by Political Correctness and fear of career costs, and leaders unwilling to take proper action, who cares how much data was collected?

At a time when American leaders and the social atmosphere are discouraging citizens from reporting potential terrorism (the photo store clerk; the flight school instructor back before September 11, the brave passengers who jumped a hijacker and then had to worry about lawsuits because they violated someone's civil rights, the attempts to take away citizens' guns by laws that wouldn't stop terrorists), why is a giant facility in Utah going to do a better job?

Decision-makers and intelligence analysts only have so many hours in the day. There can only be so many meetings; only so many priorities. And the policymaking pyramid narrows rapidly toward the top. There is a point of diminishing returns for the size of an intelligence bureaucracy. Lower-priority tasks proliferate; too much paper is generated and meetings are held; the system clogs when it has too much data.

Note the parallelism between this broader terrorism policy and the current philosophy of airport security. In both cases, everyone is considered equally suspect. Profiling is minimized. Instead of focusing on the, let’s say one hundred of those who might be of special interest, a great deal of time, attention, and resources has been spent on ten million others. This has got to reduce effectiveness.

The increased costs of security, Obama has told us, amounts to a cost of $1 trillion. Of course, people would say that such money was well spent. Yet in security as in every other aspect of government, money can be spent well or badly, even counterproductively.

Al-Qaida is even saying openly that it is switching to a strategy of encouraging isolated attacks. Within 24 hours a British soldier is murdered on a street in London after he seeks and fails to obtain terrorist training in Somalia, and a French soldier is attacked. In Toulouse, France, a terrorist kills or cripples soldiers and Jewish schoolchildren. There are dozens of examples.

Vast amounts of money and resources, though, are being spent in preparing for an exact replay of September 11.

And remember that the number of terrorists caught by the TSA hovers around the zero level. The shoe, underpants, and Times Square bombers weren’t even caught by security at all and many other such cases can be listed. In addition to this, the U.S.-Mexico border is practically open.

The ultimate problem is that the number of terrorists is very low and the fact is that for anyone who isn’t insane their characteristics are pretty clear, that is they are about 99 percent revolutionary and violent Islamists.

Obama has now admitted three very important things.

First, the war on terrorism has not been won.

Second, the war on al-Qaida has not really been won, since its continued campaigning is undeniable and it has even grown in Syria, partly thanks to U.S. policy.

Third, the biggest threat on the American homeland is autonomous terrorists who have been inspired by al-Qaida but are not technically part of the organization. (That allows Obama to claim to be winning the war on al-Qaida).

What he has not yet admitted is that the Muslim Brotherhood and other terrorist groups or sponsors are controlling Egypt, Tunisia, the Gaza Strip, Lebanon, Turkey, Sudan, Syria, and Iran, while terrorists run free in the Palestinian Authority, Iraq, Pakistan, and Afghanistan, is not conducive to the protection of America against terrorism. The fact that his policy promotes some of these problems makes things even worse.

Yet the new, expensive, expansive, and time-consuming technological methods are relatively ineffective against the current priorities of anti-American terrorist groups.

Incidentally, Obama policy has been disastrous against a fourth factor: radical Islamists—though not al-Qaida taking over places. Compared to the time Obama came to office, the Islamists who support violence against America now rule Egypt, Tunisia, the Gaza Strip, Lebanon, and perhaps soon Syria. Offenses have been stepped up in Somalia, Yemen; are being maintained in Iraq; and of course still rule over Syria and Iran. In Turkey, an Islamist terror-supporting regime has been embraced by Obama.

This represents a massive retreat even if it is a largely unnoticed one.

So the problem of growing government spying is three-fold.

--First, it is against the American system and reduces liberty.

--Second, it is a misapplication of resources, in other words money is being spent and liberty sacrificed for no real gain.

--Third, since government decision making and policy about international terrorism is very bad the threat is increasing.

If you don’t get value for money or enhanced security while freedom is being reduced and the enemy is getting stronger it certainly isn’t a bargain.

We’d love to have your support and work hard to earn it. See our new feature with 13 free books at http://www.gloria-center.org. Why not make a tax-deductible donation to the GLORIA Center by PayPal: click here.

By credit card:click here. Checks: "American Friends of IDC.” “For GLORIA Center” on memo line and send to: American Friends of IDC, 116 East 16th St., 11th Fl., NY, NY 10003.
For tax-deductible donations in Canada and the UK, write us here.
--------------------
Barry Rubin is director of the Global Research in International Affairs (GLORIA) Center and editor of the Middle East Review of International Affairs (MERIA) Journal. His next book, Nazis, Islamists and the Making of the Modern Middle East, written with Wolfgang G. Schwanitz, will be published by Yale University Press in January 2014. His latest book is Israel: An Introduction, also published by Yale. Thirteen of his books can be read and downloaded for free at the website of the GLORIA Center including The Arab States and the Palestine Conflict, The Long War for Freedom: The Arab Struggle for Democracy in the Middle East and The Truth About Syria. His blog is Rubin Reports. His original articles are published at PJMedia.

question: What tasks can be undertaken for counterterrorism?

answer: The need to locate and understand the most vital material is important. And secondly, it is necessary to be ready to act on the information also in a political manner.

question: How does limitless material affect the prevention of threats?

answer: With limitless information at hand, the focus on the most necessary information becomes weak.

question: What are isolated attacks?

answer: It may be implied that isolated attacks are conducted only by one person. For example, a British soldier was murdered on the streets of London after he failed to obtain terrorist training in Somalia.


text:
THE LIMITED SERIES is a box set released by American country music artist Garth Brooks, released by Pearl Records on May 5, 1998.

The album debuted at #1 on the _Billboard_ 200 chart and the Top Country Albums chart with 372,410 copies sold.[1] It features re-issues of Garth's first six albums, with a bonus track added to each. Sales in the United States were limited to two million copies.[2][3][4]

With the release of _THE LIMITED SERIES_, Brooks is the first artist to debut at No. 1 on two charts with a boxed set and set a record for first week sales of any boxed set in the Soundscan era.[5]

Of the newly added tracks, “To Make You Feel My Love” (a cover of a Bob Dylan song from the “Hope Floats” soundtrack) reached No. 1 on the country charts in mid-1998. Additionally, “Something with a Ring to It” was previously recorded by Mark Collie on his 1990 debut album _Hardin County Line_.

Track listing

_Garth Brooks_

1.  “Not Counting You” (Garth Brooks)
2.  “I've Got a Good Thing Going” (Larry Bastian, Sandy Mahl, Garth Brooks)
3.  “If Tomorrow Never Comes” (Kent Blazy, Garth Brooks)
4.  “Uptown Down Home Good Ol' Boy” (DeWayne Blackwell, Earl Bud Lee)¹
5.  “Everytime That It Rains” (Charlie Stefl, Ty England, Garth Brooks)
6.  “Alabama Clay” (Larry Cordle, Ronnie Scaife)
7.  “Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old)” (Randy Taylor, Garth Brooks)
8.  “Cowboy Bill” (Larry Bastian, Ed Berghoff)
9.  “Nobody Gets Off in This Town” (Larry Bastian, DeWayne Blackwell)
10. “I Know One” (Jack Clement)
11. “The Dance” (Tony Arata)

_No Fences_

1.  “The Thunder Rolls” (Pat Alger, Garth Brooks)
2.  “New Way to Fly” (Kim Williams, Brooks)
3.  “Two of a Kind, Workin' on a Full House” (Bobby Boyd, Warren Dale Haynes, Dennis Robbins)
4.  “Victim of the Game” (Mark D. Sanders, Brooks)
5.  “Friends in Low Places” (DeWayne Blackwell, Earl Bud Lee)
6.  “This Ain't Tennessee” (Larry Bastian, James Shaw)¹
7.  “Wild Horses” (Bill Shore, David Wills)
8.  “Unanswered Prayers” (Alger, Larry Bastian, Brooks)
9.  “Same Old Story” (Tony Arata)
10. “Mr. Blue” (Blackwell)
11. “Wolves” (Stephanie Davis)

_Ropin' the Wind_

1.  “Against The Grain” (Bruce C. Bouton, Larry Cordle, Carl Jackson)
2.  “Rodeo” (Larry Bastian)
3.  “What She's Doing Now” (Pat Alger, Garth Brooks)
4.  “Burning Bridges” (Stephanie C. Brown, Brooks)
5.  “Which One of Them” (Brooks)¹
6.  “Papa Loved Mama” (Kim Williams, Brooks)
7.  “Shameless” (Billy Joel)
8.  “Cold Shoulder” (Kent Blazy, Kim Williams, Brooks)
9.  “We Bury The Hatchet” (Royal Wade Kimes, Brooks)
10. “In Lonesome Dove” (Cynthia Limbaugh, Brooks)
11. “The River” (Victoria Shaw, Brooks)

_The Chase_

1.  “We Shall Be Free” - (Stephanie Davis, Garth Brooks)
2.  “Somewhere Other Than the Night” (Kent Blazy, Brooks)
3.  “Mr. Right” (Brooks)
4.  “Every Now and Then” (Buddy Mundlock, Garth Brooks)
5.  “Walkin' After Midnight” (Alan Block, Don Hecht)
6.  “Dixie Chicken” (Lowell George, Martin Kibbee)
7.  “Learning to Live Again” (Don Schlitz, Stephanie Davis)
8.  “That Summer” (Pat Alger, Sandy Mahl-Brooks, Brooks)
9.  “Something with a Ring to It” (Aaron Tippin, Mark Collie)¹
10. “Night Rider's Lament” (Michael Burton)
11. “Face to Face” (Tony Arata)

_In Pieces_

1.  “Standing Outside The Fire” (Jenny Yates, Garth Brooks)
2.  “The Night I Called the Old Man Out” (Pat Alger, Kim Williams, Brooks)
3.  “American Honky-Tonk Bar Association” (Bryan Kennedy, Jim Rushing)
4.  “One Night a Day” (Gary Burr, Pete Wasner)
5.  “Kickin' And Screamin'” (Tony Arata)
6.  “Anonymous” (Tony Arata, Jon Schwabe)¹
7.  “Ain't Goin' Down ('Til The Sun Comes Up)” (Kent Blazy, Kim Williams, Brooks)
8.  “The Red Strokes” (James Garver, Lisa Sanderson, Jenny Yates, Brooks)
9.  “Callin' Baton Rouge” (Dennis Linde)
10. “The Night Will Only Know” (Stephanie Davis, Yates, Brooks)
11. “The Cowboy Song” (Roy Robinson)

_Fresh Horses_

1.  “The Old Stuff” (Bryan Kennedy, Dan Roberts, Garth Brooks)
2.  “Cowboys and Angels” (Kent Blazy, Kim Williams, Brooks)
3.  “The Fever” (Steven Tyler, Joe Perry, Bryan Kennedy, Dan Roberts)
4.  “That Ol' Wind” (Leigh Reynolds, Brooks)
5.  “Rollin'” (Harley Allen, Reynolds, Brooks)
6.  “The Change” (Tony Arata, Wayne Tester)
7.  “The Beaches of Cheyenne” (Roberts, Kennedy, Brooks)
8.  “To Make You Feel My Love” (Bob Dylan) ¹
9.  “It's Midnight Cinderella” (Kim Williams, Kent Blazy, Brooks)
10. “She's Every Woman” (Victoria Shaw, Brooks)
11. “Ireland” (Stephanie Davis, Jenny Yates, Brooks)

¹Bonus track not included on original release of album.

Chart performance

_THE LIMITED SERIES_ debuted at No. 1 on the U.S. _Billboard_ 200, becoming his sixth No. 1 album, and No. 1 on the Top Country Albums, becoming his eight No. 1 Country album.

Charts

+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| Charts (1998)                     | Peak                              |
|                                   | position                          |
+===================================+===================================+
| Canadian _RPM_ Top Albums         | 7                                 |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| Canadian _RPM_ Country Albums     | 1                                 |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| U.S. _Billboard_ 200[6]           | 1                                 |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
| U.S. _Billboard_ Top Country      | 1                                 |
| Albums[7]                         |                                   |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+

Certifications

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

title: The Limited Series (1998 album)

question: What is the Limited Series?

answer: The Limited Series is a box set released by American country music artist Garth Brooks, released by Pearl Records on May 5, 1998.

question: How many songs are there overall in the box set of The Limited Series?

answer: Overall there are 66 songs.


text:
They say that we are all the heroes of our own stories, but I'd beg to differ. What if we were made to be the sidekick for other's success stories? I thought this was kind of stupid too, until I began to really think about it and reflect on my life. I began to find similarities between my story and Joey's from Yugioh or Brock from Pokémon; yes, I had my own accomplishments but ultimately, I couldn’t see the direction I needed to go in to complete my story, I just seem to be floating around hopping from story to story helping others on their quest with no clear end game for me.

My name is Caleb Dudley, I'm a 20-year-old Male living in Florida and this is the story of how I became a sidekick.

I started my life as most American kids do; going to school, making friends and not caring about anything except when P.E was. I went to multiple nice schools, not really fitting in anywhere, I was always the outsider, the expendable kid. Not only was I aggressive to my teachers/school staff, there were very few people I really trusted. Looking back at it now I’d say it was because my father wasn’t there much, and my step dad influenced my mother to create a abusive household- hell on earth in the middle of a suburb. I think the only thing that kept me from truly snapping was my childhood best friend Vikram. I can’t thank him enough for keeping me grounded in some of the hardest times of my life. I can see that he was the first hero I became the sidekick for. He was the brains and I was the brawn, we were unstoppable in anything we did.

In 4th grade my mother moved us to San Antonio Texas for her work, away from my friends and from my dad I had nothing. This is where I had to develop myself; something snapped in me and I suddenly stopped being aggressive and I stopped crying but I still felt alone. I did find new friends but I knew they only befriended me because I was an outsider and an outsider I would continue to be.

5th grade we moved back to Florida where I attended my old elementary school and was accepted into a International Baccalaureate middle school. This school was supposed to be a government implemented program where they take “gifted” kids from all over the city and put them in a school in the middle of bad neighborhoods. To me things were looking up, we moved back into our old house, I had my friends again and I had my hero again to help me through my shitty living situation. This all came crashing down when I started middle school.

See because I had to go to this neighborhood for school I spent about 4 hours of my day on a bus with other kids, both in middle school and high school, in my situation. I thought everything was going great; the same kids who knew about my troubled elementary school years were going to the local middle school, so this was a clean slate. My feelings were affirmed when I started school, for reasons unknown I became the class clown and everyone knew me as such. By 8th grade I was on top of the school, I even became close with most of the cliques in the school; being the glue that made our class so close. This, unfortunately, became the only happiness I had in my life at the time. My best friend, being 2 years older than me and having strict parents, was busy making the most of his high school years, destined to do great things as any hero should.

The 4 hours I spent on the bus everyday became my 2nd hell but was also where I met my 2nd hero. My bus ride was where I was bullied almost every single day, they couldn’t make fun of my clothes because there was a uniform requirement at my school but they made fun of everything else they could, sometimes even resorting to physical violence. To this day I hate thinking about my time on that bus. I was ultimately the damsel in distress, which is where my hero came into play. In 8th grade a new high schooler rode our bus named Valarie, just by talking to her you could tell she was a social outcast, just the person to not give a fuck about others opinions. She became my new hero, someone who would help me through 8th grade and protect me from the kids on the bus while I became her sidekick, someone who would be there to talk to her and make her laugh.

You probably get the point by now: I remain a social outcast, I get bullied some more, I find a new hero, I move, repeat. You’re probably bored with this post by now and I don’t blame you. This looks like one big sob story to be honest.  I guess the only reason I made this was to warn everyone to not be a sidekick like me. I need help, I need a new hero. Good night

title: The Life of a SideKick [NF]

question: What does the story say about the qualities that make a good hero?

question: What does the story say about the narrator, Caleb Dudley?

answer: He started life like most American kids, going to school, making friends, and not caring about anything except P.E. Caleb went to multiple schools, but he never really fit in anywhere and was always the outsider. He blames his broken family for his troubles (his real dad was rarely around) and his stepdad's abusive household, but it seems the root of his issues are low self-esteem and zero confidence in himself. Caleb is convinced he can never make it on his own and always looks to other people, the ones he calls heroes, for leadership and protection. He's now a 20-year-old man living in Florida and shares the story of how he became a sidekick instead of a hero.

question: What does the story say about the school Caleb attended when they went back to Florida?

answer: Caleb attended his old elementary school and got accepted to an International Baccalaureate middle school. The School was supposed to be a government-implemented program for "gifted" kids from all over the city. The school itself was in the middle of a bad neighborhood. Caleb's new school had uniforms and was four hours away from his home.

question: What does the story say about being a sidekick?

answer: Sidekicks are meant to help the heroes succeed. Sidekicks seem to find their heroes when they get into tough situations. Sidekicks think the world of their heroes. Without heroes, sidekicks seem lost and unable to defend themselves. Sidekicks are there to talk to heroes and make them laugh.


text:
As students of disruption, it never ceases to surprise us to see the same pattern repeating itself in industry after industry. When powerful incumbent firms are threatened with disruption, their first reaction tends to be denial. This is followed by derision and then by doubling the investment in existing technology.

The pattern is also true of the $131 billion videogaming industry. Microsoft’s gaming head, Phil Spencer, said that console hardware is here to stay while videogame streaming is “years and years away” from becoming mainstream.

His reaction follows Google showcasing its upcoming Stadia gaming platform, including at the big Gamescom event last month in Cologne. Cloud-based Stadia allows gamers to play high-end, computationally intensive games on multiple screens (TVs, PCs, tablets and mobile phones) via a monthly subscription and a high-speed internet connection. And they don't even need a console.

Put simply, Stadia threatens both the core competence and the business model of Sony, Microsoft and Nintendo, who have long dominated the videogaming industry. Each makes the majority of their profits via revenue shares from third party games and returns from internally developed exclusive games. In other words, Google’s console-less streaming could make its competitors’ capabilities in hardware redundant.

For years, streaming could not replicate the experience that consoles provided because of poor visual quality and slow response times. This made a console or PC the default option, as both have a near instantaneous response. These problems are almost completely solved now: with a fast-enough internet connection, videogames running on Stadia are likely to look and play as well as their console counterparts and even get closer to high-end PCs in both frame rate and visual quality.

 How young Gazans are using tech to take control of futures

Show all 7
[Coders build websites at the headquarters of Gaza Sky Geeks in Gaza City ]

Because of this, Phil Spencer’s comment reminds us of Kodak CEO Colby Chandler’s reaction to digital imaging, who said: “[…], electronic cameras are unfeasible because people liked color prints and digital technology does not deliver a high-quality set of prints as yet.”

Spencer takes solace from the fact that it took Netflix many years to become mainstream. Unfortunately, that skirts the real issue. Kodak had 25 years to adapt to digital imaging and it still couldn’t. Incumbents often struggle to respond to technological change due to four factors: they do not want to let their capabilities honed over decades become redundant; they also don’t want to let go of fat profit margins; they fear cannibalising themselves; and they struggle to shift business models.

The Independent would like to keep you informed about offers, events and updates by email, please tick the box if you would like to be contacted

Read our full mailing list consent terms here

Once the slower-moving companies come out of denial, it will be a significant challenge for a fixed specification console to begin competing with what is going to be a moving performance target in the cloud. A similar example was Blackberry’s fixed physical keyboard competing with the iPhone’s far more dynamic screen-based interface.

The companies might try to lower prices, but that alone does not counter a disruptive new business model. Stadia’s pro package provides a stream of free games and access to its highest end game performance for $9.99 a month. With Stadia, gamers can enjoy next gen games for 40 months on a subscription instead of paying for a new console upfront. That gap is hard to close.

Google carries minimal baggage. By hosting the equivalent of a console in the cloud, hardware costs can be shared between multiple “owners”. For competitors, that is simply not possible. Google’s platform is likely to grow exponentially: the list of third party developers around Stadia has shot up to over 4,000 companies, including many heavyweight publishers.

Support free-thinking journalism and attend Independent events

To complicate matters, as the ecosystem evolves more players are likely to enter, with content makers entering the streaming side of the platform business. Like Apple, Disney+, WB/HBO, expect Amazon, Valve, EA, 2K, Ubisoft, and Bethesda to push for their own versions of game streaming platforms bundled with their content library. This could eventually lead to multiple subscriptions and perhaps some industry consolidation.

If the incumbents wish to position themselves strategically in this emerging ecosystem, such as by selling physical manufacturing and distribution of hardware consoles to a third party and focusing on developing a new business model, the time is now. If they choose to wait until Google is fully entrenched, it will be too late.

_Dr Kamal A Munir is associate professor of strategy and Hamza Mudassir is a technology consultant and visiting fellow at the Judge Business School at Cambridge University_

question: What does the text say about the parameters of a good investment?

question: What does the text say about the video gaming industry?

answer: At the time of writing, the video gaming industry is worth $131 billion. Microsoft's gaming head, Phil Spencer, said that console hardware is here to stay while video game streaming is "years and years away" from becoming mainstream in response Google showcased its upcoming Stadia gaming platform at the Gamescom event in Cologne. Stadia is cloud-based and allows gamers to play high-end, computationally intensive games on multiple screens such as TVs, PCs, tablets, and mobile phones via a monthly subscription and a high-speed internet connection without a console. Game-streaming services like Stadia threaten both the core competence and the business model of Sony, Microsoft, and Nintendo, especially with the advent of high-speed internet. Google's console-less approach to gaming could render hardware redundant.

question: What is the biggest challenge to Microsoft and other gaming companies that manufacture consoles?

answer: According to the author, incumbent companies such as Microsoft often struggle to respond to technological change due to four factors: they don't want to let capabilities honed over decades become redundant, they don't want to let go of fat profit margins, they fear cannibalizing themselves, and they struggle to shift business models. Incumbents are also in denial that their fixed-specification console will be significantly challenged by cheaper cloud gaming where players don't need to fork money for hardware.

question: Summarize the lessons Microsoft can learn from Kodak and Netflix.

answer: Kodak CEO Colby Chandler had a negative take on electronic cameras and digital imaging. He said that these are unfeasible because people like color prints and digital technology doesn't deliver high-quality prints yet. It took Kodak 25 years to adapt to digital imaging and it still couldn't. It took Netflix many years to become mainstream, but now that they are, several companies have followed suit. Apple, Disney+, WB/HBO, Amazon, and others now have their own online streaming platforms.


text:
The fire glowed red, the windows glistened with snow on their britches. The large, ostentatious house stood tall over Seal Marsh. Ivy clung to the walls like butter to bread and chimneys stood as giants.

‘’Damn, it feels good to be a gangster’’ Paigal said to himself as he stood on top of the mound overlooking Seal Marsh.

He glanced into the murky salt waters of what used to be the old town harbour. The town, now situated 2 miles East was once bustling with business and a new character passing through every day. It was the Grand Exchange in 2007 Varrock.

Paigal imagined the baker standing at his stall.

‘’Get yer bread, get yer loaf ‘ere’’ he would shout and many a person would congregate around his flaky wooden bench.

Paigal stood firm in the sand and whispered ‘’thanks Mr Skeletal’’. A terrible rumble occurred, yet Paigal was not suffering from hunger. The water rippled, the sand shook. Out from the dark depths of Seal Marsh arose a large skeletal figure, dressed in the finest suit of cashmere. He bore a top hat with a blood red ribbon around its base.

His face lifted.

‘’You require my assistance’’ it shrieked. Eyes of emptiness sat upon his face, dark caves in place of eye balls. A once fancy bowtie hung from his neck as if it were a length of ivy.

‘’Y..Yes sir’’ Paigal squeaked. ‘’I need to go back in time and stop something terrible’’

‘’Mr Skeletal is not pleased with this awakening’’ he muttered in his deep, gravelly voice.

Paigal turned to enter Gifford House, he paced forward towards the door. Just as his clammy hand grasped the knob, Mr Skeletal reached forward with his titanic arm and hit Paigal with a set of jumper cables.

‘’Mortal, I will do your bidding, but first tell me why you must go back. What awaits you in 2001?’’ Mr Skeletal exclaimed in a booming voice.

Paigal wondered how the skeleton knew he was going back to 2001, but still gave the information willingly.

‘’I..I need to go back….you have picked me out. You have decided to help. The distant shot of a building burning is engrained in my mind. The white cotton shirt twirling, turning, small in the clouds but waving, waving. I need to stop 9/11 Mr Skeletal.’’ Paigal released anxiously.

Mr Skeletal looked shocked. He leant back and thought for a moment. His brain working was audible for miles.

‘’Very Well then’’ he said. ‘’But be warned, the results may shock you’’

A bright light filled the sky like a basin. A crack of thunder shook Seal Marsh and the water twisted and turned in to a skyscraper. The wind picked up, a howling roar arrived as Mr Skeletal raised his bony arms above his infamous top hat. The sound was deafening, causing Paigal to collapse to his knees in agony, his eyes clamped shut. A silent tear dribbled down his cheek and into the vortex that now surrounded him.

The thunder clapped.

Everything was calm.

Paigal opened his eyes and to his surprise he was no longer surrounded by the dank waters of Seal Marsh, his knees no longer covered in grey sand. Instead he appeared to be in a jungle except it was nothing to the likes of which he had witnessed before. People rushed around him, suits and dresses, yellow and black cars wizzed past.

He had arrived.

Paigal searched for the towers, the ones he needed. High and low, his eyes glistened with the reflection of the World Trade Centre.

He had found them.

title: [FN][HM] Mr Skeletal

question: What does the story say about the gang that Paigal belongs to?

question: What does the story say about Paigal?

answer: Paigal is a man from the future. He stood on top of a mound overlooking the murky salt waters of Seal Marsh. Paigal summons Mr. Skeletal from the depths of the marsh because he needs help. He intends to go back in time to the year 2011 and stop 9/11 from happening. Paigal suddenly finds himself transported from the dank waters of Seal Marsh and back in time. He successfully locates the World Trade Center.

question: What does the story say about Mr. Skeletal?

answer: Mr. Skeletal is a creature from the depths of Seal Marsh. It is a large skeletal figure dressed in fine cashmere, a once fancy bowtie, and a top hat with a blood-red ribbon around its base. Mr. Skeletal is presumably an immortal being of immense power because he can send mortals back in time. It appears he doesn't help everyone, and only picks out the mortals he decides to help.

question: What does the story say about the possibility of Paigal being from an alternate future?

answer: It's quite possible Paigal is from an alternate future. The story mentions locations and settings that do not fit in New York circa 2001. Some of the descriptions also don't make sense, like the town that "was once bustling with business and a new character passing through every day" which seems more like a description of a town in the old wild west during the gold rush. Paigal was also in awe of what he saw once he was transported back. He likened New York to a jungle the likes of which he had not witnessed before.