text:
BOSQUE COUNTY ( ) is a county located on the Edwards Plateau in the U.S. state of Texas. As of the 2010 census, the population was 18,212.[1] Its county seat is Meridian,[2] while Clifton is the largest city and the cultural/financial center of the county. The county is named for the Bosque River, which runs through the center of the county north to south. The Brazos River makes up the eastern border along with the Lake Whitney reservoir it feeds.[3]

Since 2015, Bosque County has been represented in the Texas House of Representatives by the Republican DeWayne Burns. The previous 10-year representative was the Republican Rob Orr of Burleson.

History

In 1721, while traveling from San Antonio de Béxar to a mission in East Texas, the Marqués de San Miguel de Aguayo ventured north from the Old San Antonio Road and camped along the Brazos River. Near his camp was also a tributary of the Brazos which he named the Bosque, Spanish for forest. This was the first recorded European expedition through the region.

Until the 1850s, settlement of the region that was to become Bosque County remained sparse. About a decade previous, some members of the ill-fated Texan Santa-Fe Expedition of 1841 which passed through the area, chose to stay. One particularly noteworthy attempt at settlement was the town of Kent. In 1850, the Universal Immigration Company of England purchased land for a townsite on the west side of the Brazos. After several years, thirty families were sent over by the company to settle the land. However, the newly established community would barely survive the first winter, suffering a number of fatalities. The following spring, the settlers planned to right the course of the settlement by purchasing some cattle and seed corn. This plan too would go awry, as the cows would eat the corn before it could be harvested. This was due to there being no fence around the corn. Eventually, the town of Kent dissolved, with most of the settlers choosing to go elsewhere, including some that returned to England.

Bosque County was officially created in 1854, being separated from McLennon County.[4]

Geography

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the county has a total area of , of which is land and (2.0%) is water.[5]

Major highways

-   [] State Highway 6
-   [] State Highway 22
-   [] State Highway 144
-   [] State Highway 174

Adjacent counties

-   Somervell County (north)
-   Johnson County (northeast)
-   Hill County (east)
-   McLennan County (southeast)
-   Coryell County (south)
-   Hamilton County (west)
-   Erath County (northwest)

Demographics

As of the census[6] of 2000, there were 17,204 people, 6,726 households, and 4,856 families residing in the county. The population density was 17 people per square mile (7/km²). There were 8,644 housing units at an average density of 9 per square mile (3/km²). The racial makeup of the county was 90.75% White, 1.92% Black or African American, 0.55% Native American, 0.11% Asian, 0.03% Pacific Islander, 5.17% from other races, and 1.47% from two or more races. 12.23% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race.

There were 6,726 households, out of which 29.5% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 60.6% were married couples living together, 8.2% had a female householder with no husband present, and 27.8% were non-families. 25.4% of all households were made up of individuals, and 14.1% had someone living alone who was 65 years of age or older. The average household size was 2.48 and the average family size was 2.95.

A Williams Institute analysis of 2010 census data found there were about 2.5 same-sex couples per 1,000 households in the county.[7]

In the county, the population was spread out, with 24.4% under the age of 18, 6.2% from 18 to 24, 23.8% from 25 to 44, 25.0% from 45 to 64, and 20.5% who were 65 years of age or older. The median age was 42 years. For every 100 females there were 95.90 males. For every 100 females age 18 and over, there were 92.30 males.

The median income for a household in the county was $34,181, and the median income for a family was $40,763. Males had a median income of $31,669 versus $21,739 for females. The per capita income for the county was $17,455. About 8.9% of families and 12.7% of the population were below the poverty line, including 16.8% of those under age 18 and 14.6% of those age 65 or over.

Media

Bosque County is currently listed as part of the Dallas-Fort Worth DMA. Local media outlets include: KDFW-TV, KXAS-TV, WFAA-TV, KTVT-TV, KERA-TV, KTXA-TV, KDFI-TV, KDAF-TV, and KFWD-TV. Although located in Central Texas and a neighboring county of the Waco and Killeen – Temple – Fort Hood metropolitan areas. Meaning all of the Waco/Temple/Killeen market stations also provide coverage for Bosque County. They include: KCEN-TV, KWTX-TV, KXXV-TV, KDYW, and KWKT-TV.

Politics

  Year                               Republican                                  Democratic                                  Third parties
  ---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ---------------
  style=“text-align:center;” |2016   style=“text-align:center;” |80.6% _6,339_   style=“text-align:center;” |16.3% _1,278_   3.2% _250_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2012   style=“text-align:center;” |80.0% _5,885_   style=“text-align:center;” |18.6% _1,367_   1.4% _104_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2008   style=“text-align:center;” |75.4% _5,762_   style=“text-align:center;” |23.5% _1,797_   1.1% _87_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2004   style=“text-align:center;” |75.6% _5,737_   style=“text-align:center;” |23.9% _1,815_   0.5% _34_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2000   style=“text-align:center;” |70.1% _4,745_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.5% _1,930_   1.4% _95_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1996   style=“text-align:center;” |47.1% _2,840_   style=“text-align:center;” |40.3% _2,427_   12.6% _759_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1992   style=“text-align:center;” |35.4% _2,300_   style=“text-align:center;” |33.5% _2,173_   31.1% _2,016_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1988   style=“text-align:center;” |56.3% _3,458_   style=“text-align:center;” |43.4% _2,670_   0.3% _19_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1984   style=“text-align:center;” |65.6% _3,923_   style=“text-align:center;” |34.2% _2,046_   0.2% _14_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1980   style=“text-align:center;” |53.5% _2,908_   style=“text-align:center;” |44.7% _2,431_   1.8% _98_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1976   style=“text-align:center;” |39.2% _1,912_   style=“text-align:center;” |60.5% _2,954_   0.4% _17_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1972   style=“text-align:center;” |74.1% _2,947_   style=“text-align:center;” |25.5% _1,014_   0.4% _15_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1968   style=“text-align:center;” |35.1% _1,377_   style=“text-align:center;” |46.3% _1,817_   18.5% _727_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1964   style=“text-align:center;” |27.5% _1,024_   style=“text-align:center;” |72.3% _2,690_   0.2% _7_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1960   style=“text-align:center;” |46.9% _1,653_   style=“text-align:center;” |52.5% _1,852_   0.6% _20_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1956   style=“text-align:center;” |49.7% _1,654_   style=“text-align:center;” |50.1% _1,670_   0.2% _7_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1952   style=“text-align:center;” |50.5% _1,982_   style=“text-align:center;” |49.4% _1,940_   0.2% _7_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1948   style=“text-align:center;” |17.0% _501_     style=“text-align:center;” |77.9% _2,303_   5.1% _152_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1944   style=“text-align:center;” |15.1% _504_     style=“text-align:center;” |75.0% _2,502_   9.9% _329_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1940   style=“text-align:center;” |16.2% _595_     style=“text-align:center;” |83.8% _3,083_   0.1% _2_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1936   style=“text-align:center;” |13.3% _350_     style=“text-align:center;” |86.5% _2,283_   0.2% _5_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1932   style=“text-align:center;” |7.8% _272_      style=“text-align:center;” |92.1% _3,214_   0.1% _3_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1928   style=“text-align:center;” |55.2% _1,526_   style=“text-align:center;” |44.7% _1,235_   0.1% _4_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1924   style=“text-align:center;” |13.4% _403_     style=“text-align:center;” |84.0% _2,534_   2.7% _80_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1920   style=“text-align:center;” |22.3% _567_     style=“text-align:center;” |61.2% _1,556_   16.6% _421_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1916   style=“text-align:center;” |9.9% _179_      style=“text-align:center;” |85.9% _1,561_   4.2% _77_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1912   style=“text-align:center;” |4.7% _64_       style=“text-align:center;” |88.9% _1,217_   6.4% _88_

  : PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS RESULTS[8]

Communities

Cities

-   Clifton
-   Cranfills Gap (small part in Hamilton County)
-   Iredell
-   Meridian (county seat)
-   Morgan
-   Valley Mills (small part in McLennan County)
-   Walnut Springs

Census-designated place

-   Laguna Park

Unincorporated communities

-   Cayote
-   Kopperl
-   Mosheim
-   Smith Bend
-   Womack

Ghost town

-   Norse

Notable residents

-   Jacob De Cordova, land agent, Member, Texas House of Representatives, 1808–1868
-   Calvin Maples Cureton, Texas Attorney General from 1919 to 1921, Texas Chief Justice 1921–1940.
-   James T. Draper Jr., Texas Southern Baptist clergyman was a pastor in Iredell in Bosque County in the late 1950s.
-   James E. Ferguson 26th Governor of Texas.
-   Miriam A. Ferguson, James' wife and the 29th and 32nd Governor of Texas.
-   Earle Bradford Mayfield, Texas State Senator, United States Senator.
-   John Lomax, American musicologist and folklorist.

[1]

[2]

[3] Bosque County

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[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

title: Bosque County, Texas

question: What does the article say about geography?

answer: Bosque County is named after the Bosque River, which runs through the center of the county. The Brazos River lies along the eastern border with the Lake Whitney reservoir. 2 percent of the area is water. Adjacent counties include Somervell County, McLennan County, and Hamilton County.

question: Summarize everything related to key historical figures.

answer: In 1721, the Marques de San Miguel de Aguayo took part in the first expedition through the region and gave the Bosque its name. In 1841, members of the Texan Santa-Fe Expedition passed through the area and chose to stay there.

question: What does the article say about the 1600s?


split: test

text:
MANILA, Philippines (UPDATED) – On May 22, 2016, then President-elect Rodrigo Duterte launched his first major attack against the Catholic Church, calling it "the most hypocritical institution" that asks "so many favors", even from him.

Days after these televised remarks, the Davao City mayor chanced upon the archbishop of Davao, Romulo Valles, in a birthday party.

"_Nu'ng nalaman ni Mayor na nandiyan si Bishop, hinanap niya. Nilapitan niya. Tapos sinabi niya kay Bishop, 'Bishop, 'wag kang maniwala sa mga sinasabi ko sa TV ha. Bugoy-bugoy lang 'yon_," according to a source privy to the information.

(When Mayor learned Bishop was already there, he looked for him. He approached him. Then he told Bishop, 'Bishop, don't believe the things I say on TV. I was just acting like a thug.)

Valles himself disclosed this in a meeting with priests in the Archdiocese of Davao in June 2016, the Rappler source said.

It was a snapshot of the ties between Duterte and Valles, who was elected presidentof the Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) on Saturday, July 8, to replace Lingayen-Dagupan Archbishop Socrates Villegas.

To be clear, Valles' election as CBCP president was expected. This is because Valles has been CBCP vice president since 2013, and the CBCP usually elects the vice president as its next president.

In any case, even the Palace hailed the election of Valles, who replaces Villegas on December 1. This, even after Duterte has attacked other Catholic bishops for criticizing him over cursing, womanizing, and supposedly condoning extrajudicial killings (EJKs).

After all, despite Duterte's tirades against the Catholic Church, Valles enjoys close ties with Duterte, his friend for years. Most recently, Valles baptized Duterte's newest grandson, Stonefish Duterte Carpio. He also led the opening prayer at Duterte's presidential inauguration on June 30, 2016.

Valles himself said in June 2016 that "there's no conflict" between Duterte and the Catholic Church in Davao. How did this happen? Valles said he engages Duterte through a "friendly sharing of ideas" – and by thinking of himself as their long-time mayor's "friend-sinner."

'TO THINK OF MYSELF ALSO AS A SINNER'

The Davao archbishop explained this in an interview in June 2016, when we asked him what he thinks is the best way to engage Duterte.

Valles responded: "I'm just coming from Davao, and having observed him, I don't have that fear…coming from other parts of the country. But I would say a friendly sharing ideas would be good."

He continued, "I have not thought of that area, but just offhand, to think of myself also as a sinner, as a friend, like a friend-sinner, that we would journey together."

[DAVAO LEADERS. Davao Archbishop Romulo Valles (2nd from left) poses with then-Davao City Mayor Rodrigo Duterte (3rd), among others, after the mayor visited him on December 4, 2015, to apologize for cursing Pope Francis. File photo from the Facebook page of Christopher 'Bong' Go ]

DAVAO LEADERS. Davao Archbishop Romulo Valles (2nd from left) poses with then-Davao City Mayor Rodrigo Duterte (3rd), among others, after the mayor visited him on December 4, 2015, to apologize for cursing Pope Francis.

File photo from the Facebook page of Christopher 'Bong' Go

Valles was also asked if he thinks Duterte's ties with the Catholic Church will ever improve.

The archbishop answered, "I am always hopeful because, with me, I think he considers me as somebody like on the normal level – friendly, his friend."

On Duterte's relationship with the Catholic Church in Davao, Valles described it as "very okay." In this June 2016 interview, Valles added in reference to Duterte, "As he said, there's no conflict between us."

Monsignor Paul Cuison, spokesman of the Archdiocese of Davao, also told Rappler in June 2016, "We maintain a very good relationship with the Mayor since we know him already for a long time. And we are used to his language."

"We don't judge him by the things that come out of his mouth, but by the goodness of his heart," Cuison said.

By the goodness of Duterte's heart, the monsignor was referring to Duterte's efforts to help children stricken with cancer and those addicted to drugs, among others. He said Duterte was also "helping in a silent way" a feeding center established by the Archdiocese of Davao.

On the best way to deal with Duterte, Cuison said: "Be a friend to him, because you can talk to him, and he listens to you if you're a friend. But if you would be an enemy, he will be your worst enemy."

Cuison said the Archdiocese of Davao, however, still voiced its concern about a number of issues when Duterte was mayor.

One of these is the issue of vigilante killings. In 2009, the Archdiocese of Davao, then led by Archbishop Fernando Capalla, released an _oratio imperata_ or obligatory prayer to end EJKs.

Cuison said: "When we came out with a strong _oratio imperata_ trying to draw the people's attention against extrajudicial killings, I remember him telling me, 'It is your moral obligation to speak against it.'"

He said that when the Catholic Church was pushing for natural family planning methods, Duterte also said it is their "duty as a church to campaign" for their beliefs.

"But that doesn't mean that he would agree with us, because he has his own political agenda," Cuison pointed out.

Cuison explained: "He lets us be. He allows us to speak. He allows us to be who we are, to perform our obligation as a church."

How the Catholic Church in Davao relates to Duterte, is one of the things Valles can bring as CBCP president.

EX-BISHOP OF KIDAPAWAN, ZAMBOANGA

Born in Maribojoc, Bohol, Valles has been Davao archbishop since May 2012.

A graduate of the Pontificio Ateneo Sant' Anselmo in Rome, he has been a Catholic priest in Mindanao for the past 4 decades.

Before the Pope made him Davao archbishop in 2012, he became bishop of Kidapawan in 1997 then archbishop of Zamboanga in 2007.

Now, his archdiocese of around 1.5 million Catholics includes Davao City, where Dutere was mayor for more than two decades.

Duterte ended up writing a letter of apology to Francis.

In April 2016, it was Valles who read to the media a letter from the Vatican acknowledging receipt of Duterte's apology.

Valles' ties with Duterte prompted Lingayen-Dagupan Archbishop Emeritus Oscar Cruz, who was CBCP president from 1995 to 1999, to air his concerns in a earlier interview with ANC.

In aninterview with Mornings@ANC in August 2016, Cruz said he "would not feel comfortable" about having Valles as CBCP head because he is "rather close to Duterte."

"The closeness is nothing to do with what is right or wrong. It will have a relevance on how CBCP will look at the overall value of the actuation of the President of the Republic," Cruz said.

[MANO PO. President Rodrigo Duterte (right) greets Davao Archbishop Romulo Valles (left) during the 50th wedding anniversary rite of Undersecretary Jesus Melchor Quitain and his wife Anita at St Francis of Assisi Parish in Davao City on August 27, 2016. Malacau00c3u00b1ang file photo ]

MANO PO. President Rodrigo Duterte (right) greets Davao Archbishop Romulo Valles (left) during the 50th wedding anniversary rite of Undersecretary Jesus Melchor Quitain and his wife Anita at St Francis of Assisi Parish in Davao City on August 27, 2016.

Malacau00c3u00b1ang file photo

Eventually, Cruz told Rappler on Thursday, July 6, he felt, "little by little," that Valles was a feasible choice as CBCP head. "I felt something else – why not? What's wrong it? Now I'm open to anybody."

Cruz said one advantage of having Valles as CBCP head is having better communication lines with Duterte.

He said that if Duterte has a message to the CBCP, he can easily reach Valles, and the other way around.

"That could be one advantage – they don't fight, they're not distant, they collaborate instead of fight," Cruz said in a mix of English and Filipino.

Asked for the possible disadvantages of Valles as CBCP head, Cruz said he cannot think of any. "The fact that he was elected vice president, and he is now the incumbent, means that the CBCP trusts him and sees in him some potentials."

SYMBOL OF THE LOCAL CHURCH

This year, the CBCP election especially matters because the Catholic Church is one of the few institutions – aside from human rights groups and the media – that have dared to criticize the popular Duterte's bloody war on drugs.

Cruz admitted that being CBCP president "is not an honor." He said, "It is rather a demanding job."

To be clear, the CBCP president is not the direct superior of the bishops. In the Catholic Church, the direct superior of every bishop is only the Pope in Rome.

While respecting each bishop's jurisdiction, the CBCP serves as a forum for bishops to exchange views, formulate joint policies if needed, and issue doctrinal declarations, among other things, according to the CBCP constitution.

Referring to the CBCP president, Cruz, a canon lawyer, explained to Rappler: "He is not higher than any bishop in ranking and in authority. He is exactly the same. But among equals, he is the head, the head among equals."

The CBCP president, however, is the bishop who signs statements of the whole bishops' conference, exposing himself to the ire of the government or the attacks of the trolls.

Former CBCP secretary general Monsignor Pedro Quitorio III pointed out: "_Ang CBCP president, parang utusan ng lahat eh. So long as 'yun ang sinabi ng lahat, kahit na iba ang persuasion mo, sunod ka eh. Unlike in the government, ikaw talaga ang hari. Dito servant ka sa lahat eh_."

(The CBCP president is like the servant of all. So long as that is everyone's statement, even if you have a different persuasion, you have to follow. Unlike in the government, you are really the king. Here, you are the servant of all.)

On the CBCP president, Quitorio said: "_Nagiging simbolo siya, nagiging figure ng simbahan na lokal_." (He becomes the symbol, the figure of the local church.) – RAPPLER.COM

question: What does the text say about the personality of Rodrigo Duterte?

answer: Rodrigo Duterte has a colorful personality. It is evident when he verbally attacked the Catholic Church, saying that the institution is hypocritical and asks so many favors, but then took back what he said days later. He told Bishop Valles in person not to believe what he said as he was just acting like a thug. According to Monsignor Cuison, despite Duterter's foul mouth, he has a good heart, is a good listener, and helps people in silence.

question: What does the text say about the relationship between Bishop Valles and Rodrigo Duterte?

answer: Despite the bad things Rodrigo Duterte has said against the Church, he and Bishop Valle remain very good friends as they've known each other for a long time. Valle's closeness to Duterte might be beneficial to the Church in terms of communication when Valle becomes the next head of the Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines (CBCP).

question: What does the text say about Rodrigo Duterte's spokesperson?

answer: The Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines (CBCP)


text:
It was the middle of the night and I thought it was a good idea after the eighth bottle of whiskey. A few of my friends were over, seven to be exact. We all were boozing for quite some time when one of my good friends shouted in the way an overly excited drunk would shout “Lets play some Russian Roulette.” this suggestion was when I was on my third bottle of whiskey and it was just touching 10′ o clock. I was tipsy but I had my wits about me and told him to simmer down or what a decent drunk would say “Shut the fuck up.” to such an atrocious idea like that. He sat down and drank deeply from his glass, looking up at me he said “I am sorry, I guess I am just a little drunk.” giving me a weak smile. I smiled back at him. The usual drunken talks came alive after this incident and the discussion was upon death. “Death is the final frontier.” said one of my friends. “Death is the end. We must live life to the fullest.” said another. Yet another said, “Death is the end of one life and the start of another.” “Death is the journey to the after life.” “Death is the end.” “Death is the start.” So many opinions but only one common link. It was a grim idea. I was on my fifth bottle of whiskey when I gave my opinion. “Death is a sad thing.” There was silence for a minute and each of my friends looked up at me, concern clearly written on their faces. I smiled at them and slowly stood up, my legs were a little shaky but I stood my ground. I raised my glass and looked at each of them “Death is a sad thing. Not for the one who died but for the one who was left to mourn. All of you have lost someone, near and dear to you. To you I raise you my glass. They are in a better place and you will soon be with them too.”

I smiled and gulped down my drink. All of their faces were ashen and I started laughing. “Not right now, calm down.” their laugh seemed forced. The drinking continued. I walked towards my old record player and looked down at it. I pulled out an old vinyl, one of my favorites. “Astrud Gilberto – Light my fire.” I fired up the record player and the sound of her voice filled the room. It shook the glasses on the showcase as though they too were enjoying the rhythm of her voice. The room was filled with the smell of booze, laughter and Astruds beautiful voice. The alcohol must have been getting to me because the room started to spin and the color strangely started becoming golden. I couldn’t hear the sounds. I sat down on my chair and started to drink. I couldn’t hear the ice clinking on my glass, I couldn’t hear the sound of the whiskey being poured, I couldn’t hear the drunken laughs of my friends. I started to get angry and drank even more. I saw the smiles on my friends faces and I felt a white hot anger come over me. I stood up and threw my glass at the wall. The shattering of the glass followed by me shouting “What are you all fucking laughing at!”

I couldn’t even hear that. I knew what I said but my voice was not audible to me. I fell back into my chair and saw the faces of my friends, unsmiling. It was 11:30. I walked to the kitchen and picked up another glass and sat back down. I poured myself a drink. I was on my seventh bottle. I knew this happened before, this was not the first time. I remembered a time when I did this, it was a  year ago. My little darling, Sarah, she was only seven. She was wearing that pretty frock I got her for her birthday and that tiara, she was pretending to be a princess. She always smiled at everyone and everything. Such a sweet and innocent girl. Why did I have to fight with her mother that day? Why? Why did I have to drink? Why? Why did I get angry? Why? Why did my little girl have to die? Why? Why did she have to die by my hands? Why?WHY?WHY?WHY?

My mind started to spiral down into this chasm. It was dark and scary. I was alone. My wife called me a murderer. I wasn’t, I wasn’t a killer. I would never hurt little Sarah. She kept screaming at me, she kept calling me a murderer. I wasn’t a murderer. I was just drunk. The tears started to roll down my face, I missed my daughter the most today. It was 11:55. I was on my eight bottle now. I smiled. In another 5 minutes it would be my daughters birthday. 7/7/1998. That was her birthday. See, I still remember. I am a good father. I was also a good husband but then she left me. Sarah’s mother. What was her name again?

It was 11:58.

I rose from my chair and almost fell down. I didn’t realize that I had a lot to drink. I looked at my friends and told them “My mates, my friends. We have gone through a lot together. We have got each others backs. We have seen the best years of our lives as well as the worst years of our lives. As you all know I have recently lost my beloved little girl, Sarah. I miss her terribly. Her mother on the other hand, can go fuck herself. She probably is at this point…” I laughed. My friends did not.

“Anyway, one of you had said that you would like to play Russian Roulette. Right now it seems like a good idea. So, lets do it.” I walked to my bedroom door and went over to my study. I pulled a drawer and got out two guns. I looked for my ammunition box and took that along with me as well. I stood in the center of the room and loaded the guns. They were magnum revolvers with a container that could hold seven bullets. I loaded one completely and the other with one bullet. I spun the chamber. I looked at my friends and said “Now, all of you sit in a circle.” They obliged. I smirked and thought to myself “Everyone listens to a guy with a gun.”

“I have a fully loaded gun here with me and I will give you this gun.” I said as I motioned to the revolver with only one bullet. “You each will spin the chamber and try to shoot me. If you don’t, I shoot you. If I die, you all will win. If you all die, then I win.” None of them spoke but their eyes betrayed them. They were fearful. What cowards I thought. I gave the revolver to the person to my right. For the life of me I couldn’t remember his name. I pointed my gun at him and said “Start.” He spun the chamber and cocked the gun, his hands started to shake as he pointed his gun at me. He pulled the trigger. It was empty.

“Ahh too bad. Pass the gun along.” I couldn’t remember the next persons name either. I kept my gun pointed at him and said “Go on.” He too spun the chamber. He started to point the gun at me but then put it down. “You are being insane…” I shot him. The blood was everywhere and all I said was “Next.” None of them moved for the gun. They really must not want to win. I shot the first guy. His body too hit the floor. The blood intertwined with the other. I looked at this colorful picture for a second and felt a sudden pang of guilt followed by a maniacal pleasure. Am I killer?

“Next.”

They all scrambled for the gun this time. The guy with the blue shirt took it. He spun the chamber and pointed the gun at me. He pulled the trigger. It was empty. I shot him. My friends started to freak out. “A change of rules. if you don’t kill me you die.” I pointed my gun at the guy with the ponytail hair. “Your turn.” He took the gun, the tears were streaming down his face, it was pathetic. “Get on with it.” He pointed the gun. It was empty too. *bang* another one bites the dust. I started to laugh a little and pointed my gun to the next guy. “Only four of you left. You guys don’t want to win do you?” He took the gun and spun the chamber. Suddenly the guy on my left got up and went for the door. He didn’t get far. I shook my head and said “Why does he always cheat? cheating isn’t fun.” I look back and motioned him to continue the game. He wasn’t lucky either.

Now there were only two of my good old buddies left. “I really have to say that this is the most fun I have had in a long time. You guys are losing but that’s all part of the game. Still, a chance exists. Give it a shot.” I started to laugh hysterically. This guy had the bluest eyes I knew, but now it was stained with red. ‘Probably because of the drinking’ thought I. He spun the chamber and pointed the gun at me. It was empty. I shot and the wonderful blood red color started to flow.

Now it was down to my last friend. “You are the only hope. You have one bullet and so do I. Why not make it fun and lets both spin the chamber? Yes, that would be a good idea.” I spun the chamber and pointed the gun at him, smiling that stupid grin. He too did the same, not smiling though. “On the count of three.” “One…” His hands started to shake, mine were rock steady. “Two..” Sweat was pouring out of him, I was calm and steady. “Three…” The last thing I remembered was the sound of a gunshot and then darkness. I did not feel pain, I actually did not feel anything. I was simply at rest, I supposed this was where you would go after you die. A place so dark and quiet that nothing but the tranquil sound of silence seemed to ebb into your soul. This was suddenly shattered when I heard

“Daddy….”

title: [TH] Then there were seven

question: What does the story say about the author's relationship with Sarah?

answer: Sarah is the author's daughter who died when she was 7. He is desperate because of that. It is her birthday and he is sitting with his friends and drinking. They start playing Russian roulette and the author dies. At that moment, he hears Sarah's voice calling him.

question: What does the story say about the author's and his friends' views on death?

answer: One of the friends says that they must live life to the fullest because death is the end. Another says death is the journey to the afterlife. The next says that death is the end, another it is the start. The author says that death is a sad thing not for the one who died but for the one who was left to mourn. He believes that he will be with his late daughter again when he dies.

question: What does the story say about the author's wedding?


text:
        I don't really know much about anything. I can't point out where I come from on a map. I can't do your taxes. I don't know much about growing crops. My life has been very sheltered, you see. I never really had the chance to go out much. When I did, it was just for a quick bite and then I came back. I don't want to say I'm shy or anti-social, but if I am, it's genetic.

        You see, growing up as a Vampire has some serious drawbacks. I would even go as far as to call it a handicap. We're not at all what you read about or see in the movies. Do you think we could afford a castle like Dracula? I grew up in a studio apartment in Queens with my parents. I was home schooled to the fullest extent of their knowledge, but they worked nights and slept days so to say the least I was left on my own for education. I was to follow in the family business, whether I wanted to or not. My father wanted me to join him in working the graveyard shift at our neighborhood 7/11. I've never really been much for serving people. Plus, running home at 5 in the morning to escape the sunrise wasn't my idea of a good career choice.

        Growing up, I had a lot of free time to think and ponder the meaning of my existence. In other words, I spent a lot of time drinking the blood of high teenagers outside my father's 7/11 late at night and it made me feel like a prophet. It really gave me a craving for dorritos and other chips, too. What's so strange about that is that my family follows a strict, traditional, Vampire diet consisting of mainly blood and meat. I never had much exposure to processed food. Sometimes, I would float down in front of the Burger King drive-thru and scare the customers into giving me their food. I would say something like, "Your food or your blood, fool!" They always gave me the food. Well, most of them.

        I wasn't totally useless, though. I didn't know much, but I could dream. I wanted to become more than what was expected of a young vampire. I always wanted to break away from the life my family had planned for me. The whole vampire thing just didn't have much potential. You can laugh at this if you want, but my dream was to become a cowboy. I spent most of my teenage years watching old western movies on tv while my parents were at work and I wanted to be the cowboys. To be on horseback in the open range with the sun filling the horizon was a life I would never be able to live, despite anything I could dream. Being young as I was, though, I'd had enough of my life and decided to take off. One night shortly after my 18th birthday, I left a note and walked out the door.

        I won't tell you how I got there, but I made it to Montana. I'll just tell you that getting there with no money required doing some things that are beyond embarrassing. I'll save that story for another time. I started working at a ranch where my main responsibility was doing the bitch work no one else wanted to do. I got fired when I didn't show up on the first morning I was supposed to work. I told you it would be hard to become a vampire cowboy. I didn't give up hope, though. Eventually I found a 24/7 ranch that was run by humans in the day and vampires at night.

        I fit right in with my crew. It was almost as if I had been born to work on a ranch. Sometimes, the humans played pranks on us and left piles of horse and cow droppings to be cleaned up. When this happened, we just laughed and drank the humans' blood while they slept. Nothing says, "got'cha!" like waking up as a member of another species. The ranch owner put an end to our prank wars when we converted most of his day staff to vampires.

        I didn't sleep much during my time at the ranch. I would stare out my window during the afternoon and watch the humans work. I wanted so badly to be out there with them, riding horses around the ranch and sweating under the sun. One afternoon, I witnessed a good downpour. The ranch hands returned to their quarters and I watched the animals cool off under the rain. The sun returned from behind the clouds and left this breath-taking beam of colors in the sky. In all the history of my people, we have been afraid of the light. For good reason, too. But this light was amazing. I followed the shape from where it began at our ranch and tried to imagine how long it could be, and what could be at the end of it. I imprinted its size and location in my memory. I was going to find the end of the light.

        That night, I left the ranch with our best horse and followed the trail of the light by memory. I rode for hours and the horse hated me for it. It threw me off a couple times so it could rest. I'd never bitten a horse and was considering it, but was afraid of starting a new superior race of hybrid flying, blood-drinking horses. Finally, when I felt that I had reached the end of the trail, I got off the horse and began to look around. After hours of searching, I gave up and started to make camp.

        I heard noise coming from the woods, and emerging from it was a small, delicate, and beautiful creature. Her green hat matched her jacket. She was far too well-dressed to be a homeless person. My presence surprised her, and she stared at me in confusion.

        "Are you here for the gold?" She asked.
        "The gold?" I replied. "I've been following a beam of light. Do you know of it?"
         Her face brightened and she beamed a smile towards me. I was beginning to forget more and more about the light. I'd found what I had been looking for for so very long.
         "Of course I do, silly," she laughed at me. "It's my rainbow and you've found it. No one ever comes     looking for me these days. We are real, you know. I'm not like the Easter Bunny. I've got a lot of gold in this pot here. It's all yours now, sugar."
         "What if I want something else?" I asked her, gazing deeply into her green eyes.
         She placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head. "Now what else could you want?"
         I paused and began to approach her. I reached down to hold her little hand.
         "You."

        Ok, I know what you're thinking right now. I admit that falling in love with a leprechaun is destined for failure no matter what species you are, even if you're a leprechaun. There were some serious flaws in my logic back in the day. But go to hell. I was a vampire in love. We left together later that week. I hadn't realized it during my trip, but I had crossed the Canadian border while searching for the end of the rainbow. When we went through customs to re-enter the United States, I had to smuggle my new lady love in one of my duffel bags. Rather than becoming intimate with each other throughout our trip, my beaming and beautiful bride to be spent our first couple of days together in my bag wrapped in my intimates and dirty socks.

        Love is an adventure, but settling down is a chore. My mini-lover and I found a quiet town in South Carolina where we could be together in peace. By peace, I mean we were constantly receiving death threats and bricks through our windows. Our relationship was what some people would call an abomination. We weren't allowed to marry. My ittie-bittie-amore wanted to move up north to Massachusetts. We weren't gay, I had to remind her. We were just of different species.

        We lived off of her gold for a few years until it began to run out. Desperate, my slight and slender lady friend found a job as an elf at Santa's Village in the local mini-mall. During the winter, she worked overtime taking pictures with children and Santa. Defeated, I found work at a local 7/11. I first tried my luck as a stand-up comic, but no one found the musings of a destroyer of lives to be very humorous. Because of our work hours and my fatal reaction to sunlight, our relationship suffered. In public, my teeny-tiny sweetheart constantly had to prove her age to keep me from becoming a registered sex-offender. The public stigma of our relationship kept us inside for most of the time.

        Again, the world felt like a prison to me. I began to think more often of the ranch and being a cowboy. This wasn't why I left home. I didn't leave to work the graveyard shift at a 7/11 and sleep with a pretty but puny honeybun. To tell you the truth, we rarely slept together. Like I mentioned before, the scheduling conflicts of our lifestyles made it all very difficult. She got us into marriage counseling. Let me tell you what was wrong with that idea. First, we weren't married. We got thrown out of our first marriage counseling session and had to re-schedule to be seen for "couple counseling." Four weeks later we saw the same man. Second, it hurt me to go to those sessions. I mean that literally. You would think that venturing out during the middle of the day was enough to prove my love to that microscopic midget.

        I'd like to tell you that it all had a happy ending. I'd like to tell you that we reconciled and everything is perfect. I'd rather tell you that we ended up back at the ranch and I followed my dream of becoming a cowboy. We ran into an unexpected problem shortly after we began counseling. I didn't think that different species could reproduce, so safe sex wasn't really my thing. Nine months later, my dwarfish devil of a lady gave birth to a hybrid vampire/leprechaun. You may read that and think it's very cool, but let me tell you it's not. My son really got the worst of both worlds, being a runt of a blood sucker. When he began teething, he turned my little leprechaun into a shrimp sized vampire. I don't know, maybe that is kind of a happy ending after all. At least we can finally spend some time together now.

title: [HM] Under the Lovely Bloody Rainbow

question: Summarize the narrator's childhood.

answer: The narrator is a vampire who grew up in a studio apartment in Queens. He was homeschooled by his parents and they worked nights and slept during days so he had to get educated himself for the most part of it. He also had to join their business at a neighborhood 7/11 during the graveyard shift and had to run home before sunrise, so he didn't like it.

question: Summarize the narrator's time at the ranch.

answer: The narrator started working at a ranch in Montana that was run by both humans and vampires. They played pranks on each other all the time. Humans put cow and horse droppings for the vampires to clean up and vampires drank humans' blood when they were asleep, thus converting them into vampires. The narrator always wanted to go out in the sun and was fascinated by light.

question: Summarize the narrator's love story.

answer: The narrator left the ranch chasing the light on a horse. He met a leprechaun girl on the way and fell in love with her. He came back with her to a quiet town in South Carolina with her. He had to smuggle her from Canada to USA in a bag. People didn't allow them to marry as they were of different species.

question: Summarize the narrator's relationship with his partner.

answer: The narrator's relationship ran into troubles as their work schedules meant that they could hardly spend time together. They went to couples counseling and managed to get their relationship back on track. Finally, they managed to reconcile and went back to the ranch.

question: Summarize the climax.

answer: The narrator and his leprechaun partner had sex and to the narrator's disbelief, she gave birth to a son who was half leprechaun and half vampire. While he was teething, he ended up biting his mother and she ended up becoming a short vampire herself. This meant that they could all live peacefully together now as a single species family.

question: Summarize the narrator's son's life.


text:
I am James.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

title: [MF] Bounce

question: Summarize what happened to James.

answer: The James avatar was logged off from a simulation. Ruth, the person controlling the avatar, felt joy in the confusing feelings of the process that always made her feel that she, as James, was dying. Both Ruth and the avatar are technically James.

question: Explain the twist in the story's ending.

answer: The final scenes depicting Ruth's thoughts mirrored that of James' in the start of the narrative, leaving the reader with a feeling that Ruth might also be an avatar. Since the story is open ended, the lack of explanation in itself is what the writer wants to leave the readers with.

question: What program is the simulation running?


text:
"Hi Carter!  Come on in" Samantha says provocatively through the screen door of her home.  Home is the most generous word to use to describe Samantha's living quarters.  Idleview Village, a trailer park community without any views to speak of, but with plenty of residents that can be best described as idle, is where Samantha scrambles to make mortgage payments every month.

&#x200B;

Carter's 2013 Hyundai Elantra with a noticeable dent in the passenger's side door is the most expensive car parked out front.  Driving up to Samantha's trailer park home, Carter passed Grand Am's with different color hoods compared to the rest of their bodies and a few Ford trucks that look like they just arrived from the junk yard across town.  Currency amongst the folks residing here most definitely comes in the form of food stamps and the only hint of hope for a better life comes in the form of six numbers printed out on the lottery tickets recently purchased from the Shell station across the street.

&#x200B;

A heated vulgar laced dispute between a shirtless middle-aged man in knockoff cowboy boots and Wrangler jeans and an even older lady that looks like her diet consists of Suzi Q's for breakfast, lunch, and dinner is taking place four lots over and can be heard from everywhere in Idleview Village.  This is just another Friday night here.  Nothing to see here, keep it moving.

&#x200B;

"Hi Sam" Carter slurs his speech as he opens the screen door and kisses Samantha a tad-bit too aggressively.  They've met once prior to this, at Petee's Tavern last weekend, and communication since they sloppily made out in the back of Carter's Elantra that night has only come in the form of shared Snaps, almost always after the hour hand on the clock in Samantha's unsightly kitchen passes the eleven.

&#x200B;

"Shhhh be quite!  My daughter is sleeping" Samantha insists.  Her 11-month-old baby isn't pertinent to this story; just know she'll have a number of alcoholics, thieves, and shady characters masquerading as a father figure throughout her upbringing.

&#x200B;

Twenty four and with the stench of bottom shelf vodka on his breath, Carter isn't an alcoholic, but is well on his way to becoming an AA regular.  He has no interest in a relationship with Samantha; his intention is that of a hit and run so to speak.  Co-workers at Five Below call Samantha "Double Dutch" behind her back because it seems like no guy in the past three years has seen her more than twice.

&#x200B;

The sound of a beer bottle shattering against the plastic siding comes from the domestic dispute previously mentioned.  Maury Povich would be wise to send a producer here looking for talent.

&#x200B;

Flies and mosquitoes congregate around the naked light bulb above the kitchen sink.  Cheap fragrance from CVS Samantha sprayed on her hickey-covered neck a few minutes before Carter arrived cannot mask the God awful smell permeating in this hellhole.  Think of the bathroom stall at a rest stop to get an idea of the fumes here.  A blood alcohol content well above the legal limit allow Carter to not be bothered with either the vomit inducing malodor or Samantha's hair, which is as greasy as anything ordered off the McDonald's value menu.

&#x200B;

Carter' kicks his flip flops off and his feet stick to the seldom washed laminate flooring as he both kisses Samantha and tries to lead her to her bandbox of a living room by pushing his hand along her cellulite-filled ass.  Samantha does little to resist her guest's advances.  Swirling wind from outside has the screen door slamming open and shut.

&#x200B;

Before reaching the generations old polyester couch patched together with duct tape and napkins underneath two of its' four legs to keep it somewhat level, Carter steps on a Lego piece and shrieks as his doughy body takes a dive onto the grimy floor below him.  In a domino effect, Samantha summons the guy she desperately wants to become her permanent bedfellow to not be so loud with a raised voice of her own and then....*and then*...her child awakes from her sleep and begins to cry insufferably.  No needs for a baby monitor in a trailer park home this size.

&#x200B;

"Sit right there.  I need to take care of this" Samantha points to the aforementioned couch and then goes to the bedroom to tend to her infant.   Lying on the couch, Carter can hear a car, probably a beat up Chevy, burning out and the sound of sirens.  Again, this is just another Friday night in these parts of town.

&#x200B;

To Samantha's dismay, her inconsiderate baby needs to be breastfed.  She fed her an hour ago and these are not the lips she wants latched to her uneven breasts now.  The single mom gets to it and Carter waits impatiently...five minutes...ten minutes.  Sobering up a bit, but still well north of .08, his senses slowly come back into focus and he begins to notice the repugnant air going in and out of his crooked nostrils.  Peering into the cracked open door to the bedroom with his bloodshot eyes, the lush that just wanted to get his and be done with it, watches on in horror as Double Dutch is doing what she's doing while smoking a Newport.

&#x200B;

"Get a condom out of my kitchen drawer babe" the single mother calls out to the drunk seated on her duct tape repaired couch.  "I'll be done in a second!"

&#x200B;

"*Who the fuck keeps condoms in their kitchen drawer*" Carter mumbles to himself.  Assessing the situation, Carter realizes it's time to abort this mission and get the hell out of dodge ASAP!

&#x200B;

"What did you say?"

&#x200B;

"Nothing"

&#x200B;

Carter uses his hands to get up from the couch he's sunk in and heads to the kitchen, which is comically only five steps away.  Still, he manages to trip over a rattling toy, which reaffirms there's no going back.  Bypassing the kitchen, Carter dashes out the swinging screen door and into his 2013 Hyundia Elantra.  Speeding off, Carter slows down for a moment to notice the two that were arguing for all to hear earlier are now fondling each other on their stoop.

&#x200B;

"K, sorry about that!  I'm ready now" the single mother announces eagerly as she reemerges topless from the bedroom.

&#x200B;

"Where'd he go?"

(From the website aftertimeexpires.com)

title: [HM] Single Mom In Idleview Village

question: Who is Samantha talking to?

answer: Carter.

question: Where does Samantha live?

answer: In a trailer park.

question: Where is Samantha's trailer park called?

answer: Idleview Village.

question: Where did Carter and Samantha meet?

answer: Petee's Tavern.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator guides us through the brief hook up of two people in a trailer park. Samantha, single mother and trailer owner, met Carter in Petee's Tavern last weekend and has invited him over for a visit. The surroundings are dilapidated and the people we see are trashy. No one has much of value around here. Carter arrives and just as quickly as he gets to business with Samantha, the presence of her baby, her reputation, and the state of her trailer become all too much, and he runs away when Samantha is tending to her baby.


text:
[The new MacBaren-version Capstan tins © PipesMagazine]

The new MacBaren-version Capstan tins © PipesMagazine

These days there is a lot of news surrounding Capstan. This because after an absence of 18 years the legendary brand returns to the USA. Not only as the well-known flake, but also as the lesser-known ready rubbed. Also the manufacturer is no longer Orlik / STG, but another Danish company, MacBaren. Of course under license of Imperial Tobacco. Luckily we in Europe were able to enjoy Capstan all this time. It actually is one of the few tobaccos that is available in The Netherlands that I like very, very much.

[Old Capstan Navy Cut ad from 1898]

Old Capstan Navy Cut ad from 1898

Capstan already exists for a looong time. The brand was introduced by W. D. & H. O. Wills around 1893. The company was founded as Wills, Watkins & Co. by Henry Overton Wills I and his partner Watkins. He opened a shop in 1786 Castle Street, Bristol in 1786. After the retirement of his partner in 1789 the name became “Wills & Co.”. From 1791 to 1793 the company was known as Lilly, Wills & Co when it merged with the firm of Peter Lilly. Then, from 1793 to Lillly’s retirement in 1803, as Lilly and Wills.In 1826 Wills’ two sons, William Day Wills and Henry Overton Wills took over the company and finally in 1830 the company took the well known name of W. D. & H. O. Wills.

[Sorting and cutting tobacco for mixtures at the Bristol factory in 1926]

Sorting and cutting tobacco for mixtures at the Bristol factory in 1926

The company was good for its workers and pioneered canteens, free medical care, sports facilities and paid holidays. Their first brand was “Bristol”, made at the London factory from 1871 to 1974. “Three Castles” and “Gold Flake” followed in 1878, “Woodbine” in 1888, Capstan around 1893 and Three Nuns from 1957 to the late 1980’s. The company not only had factories and offices in Bristol, but also in Swindon, Dublin, Newcastle and Glasgow. The largest cigarette factory in Europe was opened at Hartcliffe Bristol in 1974 but closed in 1990. The beautiful Art Deco Newcastle factory closed in 1986. In 1901 Sir William Henry Wills formed the Imperial Tobacco company from a merger of W.D. & H.O. Wills with John Player & Sons of Nottingham and 11 other independent family businesses, which were being threatened by competition from the United States by the American Tobacco Company. Imperial remains one of the world’s largest tobacco companies. The last member of the Wills family to serve the company was Christopher, the great great grandson of H.O. Wills I. He retired as sales research manager in 1969. Some time after the closure of the Bristol plant the making of Capstan was finally licensed by Imperial Tobacco to Orlik and now MacBaren. For more (old) pictures of the W.D. & H.O. Wills factories click on this link.

[My old (± 1989) Capstan Navy Cut Medium tin]

My old (± 1989) Capstan Medium Navy Cut tin

My love for Capstan began when I made a bid on an old Medium Navy Cut tin on the British e-bay. And did not win it.. Fortunately something went wrong with the winner and the seller approached me if I wanted the tin. Of course, but not for the money the winner offered. I’m still Dutch after all. That was possible and after some price negotiations she sent me the tin. It was my first vintage tobacco so I eagerly pried with my Czech pipe-tool under the lid and was rewarded with a *Ssssssss*. The flakes inside smelled absolutely hea-ven-ly. Since then I never came across a vintage tobacco that smelled so nice. A deep, sweet hay / grass/ raisins / figs aroma that reminded me of the hay-barn of my uncle and aunt. Even to this day, when I stick my nose in a Capstan tin I have to think of that. *Sighs* Good ol’ times.. Speaking about those, Capstan used to be the favourite tobacco of well known writer J.R.R. Tolkien and also later of his son Christopher until he quit smoking..

[Older rectangular Orlik made Capstan tin]

Older rectangular Orlik made Capstan tin

When I put a flake in my Winslow Harlekin and lit it my taste buds had a shuddering orgasm. Before that I smoked some aromatics and wasn’t converted to the dark latakia leaf yet. The taste was full and naturally sweet with the hints of hay and raisins / figs that I smelled before. In other words, the Virginias had aged very well. Yes, that old Capstan really was an eye opener. So I mailed the e-bay lady if she had any more tins left that she was willing to sell and asked how she got does. She answered that she had acquired them from the left over inventory of a closed tobacco-shop and that she had a couple more tins left. I bought those and I still have them. Only on very special occasions I pop one open. After I finished the old Capstan I went looking for the new version. I was in luck, the local tobacco store had one left. When I got home I opened it and was a bit disappointed. Yes the sweet hay/grass/ raisins / figs aroma was there but it lacked the depth of the Old Capstan. But that is not so strange since it was a new tin..

[STANUNED flavour info]

STANUNED flavour info

When I did some research about the Capstan topping (I knew it wasn’t all-natural) I stumbled upon the used flavour in the earlier years. It had the code-name STANUNED. After some more research I discovered that the Tonka bean (tonquin, coumarin) was used as  an ingredient. Unfortunately the use of tonka bean in pipe-tobacco is now prohibited in most countries.. So I wonder how the current topping is made. A chemical rip-off? Imperial Tobacco has the original recipe so who knows what they have done to it over the years..

[Different Capstan tins FLTR: W.D. & H.O. Wills tin, older Orlik/STG tin, later Orlik/STG tin, MacBaren tin]

Different Capstan tins fltr: W.D. & H.O. Wills tin, older Orlik/STG tin, later Orlik/STG tin, MacBaren tin

Ok, now it is time to do some comparisons between the Orlik / STG version and the new MacBaren version. As you can see in the picture on the left both the latest Orlik / STG tin and the new MacBaren one are identical. The folks in the USA are fine, every new tin is the MacBaren version plus it has the manufacturing month and year clearly stated on the back. But here in Europe we have some “old” Orlik / STG stock left that looks exactly the same as the new one! The same yes, only the codes on the back of the tin are different.

[IMG_9538]Let me explain. On the picture on the right you see the backside of the two similar Capstan tins. Left the Orlik / STG version, right the new MacBaren. The Orlik / STG tin has 10 digits and then 4. The MacBaren one has 8 and then 5. That is the difference. As you zoom in on the MacBaren tin you see: 09130281 30212. This is how the code can be deciphered:
– 09 = Packing machine used
– 13 = Year of packing
– 028 = Calendar day of production. That means day 028 in 2013. January 28th.
– 1 = Shift (1 indicates it is packed on the day shift)
– The 5 digit number is the internal batch number.
The Orlik / STG tin code is a bit harder to crack: 1208025527 0164.
– 12 = Year of packing
– 08 = Calender day of production. That means the 8th day of the month.
– 02 = Month of packing.
What the rest of the digits mean, no idea.. The 4 digit number is an internal batch number I guess. But this tin comes from February 8th 2012.

[IMG_9543]When you open both tins the flakes inside look the same (I already smoked from the MacBaren version at the time of the picture). Ok, maybe the Orlik / STG verison is a tiny bit darker but that is because it is almost a year older. The tin odour is also almost the same although I find that the MacBaren version smells just a bit sharper. Also maybe because of the youthfulness of the flake. I must say that that sharp edge goes away after a week after opening. For the last one and a half week I have been smoking both versions extensively in different pipes. And… I can detect no real difference. They both are a damn fine smoke. The Orlik / STG version tastes just a bit rounder, fuller but once again, that could very well be the age difference. Also Orlik / STG have brought 2 flakes on the market: Orlik English Original and Orlik English Gold. I have not smoked these but it is said that they are similar to the Blue and Yellow Capstan.

[MacBaren]Truthfully I never expected that MacBaren could pull off a tobacco that I actually like very much. I am not a big MacBaren fan to be honest.. But they have done a damn fine job with the new Capstan, I got to give them credit for that. And for the people who say, it tasted better in the past! Yes, the old W.D. & H.O. Wills tins taste superior. But keep in mind the formidable ageing of the Virginias! Anyway, I am just glad that I can buy a new tin of an old brand without worrying.

question: What does the author like about the old Capstan tobacco made by W.D. & H.O. Wills?

answer: Its smell is "heavenly" with a deep, sweet hay/grass/raisins/fig aroma. It reminds the author of the hay barn of his uncle and aunt. He likes the taste a lot too, which is full and naturally sweet with the aromatic smells also present in the taste. The aging of the Virginias gives a special taste.

question: What does the article say about the health risks of smoking tobacco?


text:
[Photograph of William Tietkens held in the State Library of South Australia] The TIETKENS EXPEDITION OF 1889 was led by William Tietkens. It covered territory west of Alice Springs to the vicinity of the Western Australian border. [1]

Expedition members

The expedition members were:[2]

-   David Beetson
-   Fred Warman
-   Billy (a black-tracker from the ranks of the native police at Alice Springs)
-   A small native boy

Dates

The expedition took place from March to July 1889.[3]

Purpose and outcome

Tietkens hoped to discover a supply channel to Lake Amadeus from hills to the north-west, expecting that this might open a reliable route to the north-west coast settlements. He succeeded in proving that it did not exist.

Support

The South Australian branch of the Royal Geographical Society of Australasia was instrumental in mounting the expedition and appointing Tietkens as leader.

Discoveries

This expedition discovered Lake Macdonald (Karrkurutinyja), the Kintore Range, Mount Leisler, Mount Rennie, the Cleland Hills, defined the western borders of Lake Amadeus, and photographed Uluru (Ayers Rock) and Kata Tjuta (Mount Olga) for the first time.

Features named by Tietkens, with the source of the name, include:[4]

-   Lake Macdonald, named for Mr A. C. Macdonald, the secretary of the Victorian branch of the Royal Geographical Society.
-   Kintore Range, named for Lord Kintore, governor of South Australia.
-   Mount Leisler, named for Louis Leisler, a financial supporter of Tietkens.
-   Mount Rennie, named for Professor Rennie of Adelaide University.
-   Cleland Hills, named for William Lennox Cleland, a South Australian doctor.

Route

[William Tietkens expedition 1889] The attached map shows the main features of the route followed.

Means of travel

The caravan consisted of twelve camels, sufficient to carry the expedition members, provisions for up to four months and water for a lesser period.[5]

Accomplishments

The expedition collected new species of plants and rock samples allowing the South Australian government geologist to compile a 'geological sketch' of the country traversed.

Specimens of 250 plant species were collected, although only 8 were new to science, [6] and in 1890, Ferdinand von Mueller and Ralph Tate named _Eremophila tietkensii_ in his honour. [7] [8]

Publications

The following publications contain information derived from this expedition:

-   _The Explorers_.[9]
-   _List of Plants collected during Mr. Tietkens' Expedition into Central Australia, 1889_.[10]
-   _Eremophila and allied genera : a monograph of the plant family Myoporaceae_.[11]
-   _A field guide to the eremophilas of Western Australia_.[12]

Recognition

. Tietkens was elected a fellow of the Royal Geographical Society on his return.

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

title: Tietkens expedition of 1889

question: How many adults were on the expedition?

answer: Three adults were on the expedition.

question: Which organization provided support for the expedition?

answer: The South Australian branch of the Royal Geographical Society of Australasia was instrumental in mounting the expedition and appointing Tietkens as leader.

question: How much water was provided for the trip?

answer: It is unknown, but it was for a lesser period than the up to four months' of provisions.

question: Where might you find information on plants discovered and described during the expedition?

answer: You could find it in the List of Plants collected during Mr. Tietkens' Expedition into Central Australia, 1889.


text:
Sitting outside on the steps of the Lafayette Theater on a crisp February evening with a rolled newspaper clenched tightly in his left-hand Joseph Williams was lost in thought. It was a familiar voice that brought him back to reality, “Hey Joey, the boys and I are headin’ over to the Libya Cafe on 131st.You comin’?” He looked up and saw his closest friend Robert Frost, “Naw, you go on ahead. I’ll catch up to you later.”

 Joseph and Robert were part of the 369th infantry regiment, formerly known as the New York Fifteenth National Guard, who spent 191 consecutive days on the front lines in the war-ravaged French countryside. He reflected back on the first day he and a rag-tag ensemble of fellow African-Americans fell into a hap-hazard formation in front of the same theater which he now sat on the front steps of. He also thought about the nonstop drilling and training at Camp Whitman that instilled in him and the rest of the NY15NG their first real sense of pride. After Whitman came remedial security detail, guarding rail lines and terminals in New York City. Eventually Joey and the 369th were shipped out to France. Joey thought the French were wonderful people, devoid of the bigotry and prejudice that white folk seemed all too willing to express stateside. The 369th was given as piecemeal to the French army by the US government to bolster their ranks, and the French soldiers were most accommodating hosts, showing a kindness and affection most of the 369th  had never seen in whites before the war. Joey thought about all the horrors he had seen and done during the war, and not for the first time gave thanks to the Lord for bringing him home in one piece. The Homecoming parade that ended not long before Joey took a seat on the steps of the old Lafayette had almost been as surreal as the war itself. As far as his eyes could see whites and blacks intermingled, holding miniature American Flags, cheering and waving the boys of the 369th on as the succession marched proudly through the streets of Harlem. It seemed too good to be true, Joey first thought, maybe this war would make a difference for black folks in the US after all.  That notion was quickly laid to rest though when Joey first gazed upon the newspaper he now absentmindedly clutched in his hand.

Before he enlisted, Joey was a bellhop at a small hotel in Queens, he despised the monotony of his humble profession and knew in his heart he was destined for more. When the opportunity presented itself in the late summer of 1916, Joey jumped on the chance to join the New York Fifteenth National Guard. Initially during drill, Joey and several other men who had also enlisted where given brooms instead of rifles to shoulder while in formation. The official explanation for this was that there was a shortage of rifles, but Joey suspected it had more to do with a lack of trust the white officers had in their black recruits. Eventually Joey and the rest of the NY15NG completed their training and were inducted into the ranks of the “proudest military in the world.” After training, the regiment was assigned to guard duty, but the boys were thirsty for action.

 In early December of 1917, the NY15NG were given their orders and were loaded onto transport ships, to be sailed across the Atlantic and sent to France. Upon arrival on New Year’s Day 1918, Joey and the rest of the NY15NG arrived in France and were greeted by the open arms of the French Poilus (an affectionate term for French soldiers meaning “hairy ones”). It was then that the New York Fifteenth National Guard was to be called the 369th infantry regiment. Joey and the rest of the 369th spent their first two months in France carrying out laborious tasks that were deemed “unfit” for white American soldiers. Joey never lost hope that he and the boys would get to see the action first hand. In March of 1918 Joeys wish was granted. The 369th was given to the French army to fill its impoverished ranks.

 In April, the men of the 369th got their first taste of combat. Joey and Robert were manning a trench facing the Hauzy Woods when they heard the Whiz-Pop of incoming German artillery. Diving head first into their trench Joey covered his head and prayed to God to see him through the hellish ordeal. Almost immediately after the artillery barrage subsided he heard the bloodcurdling shouts of the advancing Hun.  Peaking over the trench Joey leveled his French Lebel 1886 rifle while Robert readied the box of hand grenades. The Germans appeared through the fog almost as though they were apparitions. Joey squeezed the trigger of his rifle, pulled back the bolt, drove it back into battery and squeezed off another round, all the while Robert lobed the grenades.

  The exchange lasted a mere matter of minutes and the Huns vanished into the mist as quickly as they had appeared. The following months were much the same, long periods of boredom, penetrated briefly by moments of sheer adrenaline. Joey witnessed enough carnage and experienced enough loss to fill what he thought must be ten lifetimes. On January 10th, 1919, the 369th was ordered to stand down and sent home, nearly two months after the war had officially come to an end.

 When Joey and the rest of the 369th arrived in New York, a parade was organized in their honor. Joey put on his khaki uniform, straightened out the creases on his blouse, laced up his boots and met his fellow “Hellfighters” (the name bestowed upon the 369th by the Germans due to their tenacity in battle) outside of the regiments armory on February 18th 1919. After they all had fallen in rank, the orders were given to march. Joey thought for sure that his heart would jump out of his chest when they came around the corner onto Fifth Avenue. As far as he could see, whites and blacks stood shoulder to shoulder waving hats and flags, and singing praise for the fighting boys of the 369th. For the first time in his life Joey was truly proud to be an American. After the procession had ended and the crowd started to dwindle Joey’s eye was caught by a newspaper stand on the corner of the street. As Joey approached the vendor he saw a headline on the front page that smothered all euphoria he had in his very being. "The World’s" top story was not of gallant soldiers returning from the war to end all wars, but instead it read; “Frenzied Mob Lynches Negro Veteran in South Carolina.” This was the homecoming Joey had subconsciously been anticipating all the while. It was in that moment, Joey knew for sure, he was finally home.

title: [HF] A Homecoming of Heroes?

question: Summarize the plot twist of the story.

answer: During the homecoming parade of the 369th infantry regimen after the end of the world war, Joey Williams, an African-American war veteran, feels proud being an American, thinking the war would finally secure equality for black and white people. However, this quickly changes as soon as he read the newspaper's top story of the day, which is about a mob lynching a Negro war veteran.

question: What does the text say about the US military helping the French?

answer: The US government ships out the 369th to France. The infantry is given to the French army to bolster their weak ranks and help them win the war against the Germans.

question: Summarize the ordeal of the 268th during the war.

answer: Sent to France during the war, the 369th infantry regiment first experienced combat against the Germans in April 1918 while they were in a trench facing the Hauzy Woods. The infantry regiment spent 191 consecutive days on the front lines before being sent home on January 10, 1919. They were tenacious in combat, and the Germans even named them Hellfighters.


text:
The Slatest
[Brett Talley]

Brett Talley poses for a portrait at Holy Rood Cemetery on Dec. 2, 2014, in Washington.
Matt McClain/The _Washington Post_ via Getty Images

Brett Talley, the Alabama lawyer Donald Trump has nominated to be a federal district judge, is a 36-year-old ghosthunter who has never tried a case and who failed to disclose to the Senate that he is married to the chief of staff to the White House counsel. He also seems to have written 16,381 posts—more than 3½ per day—on the University of Alabama fan message board TideFans.com. As _BuzzFeed_ has reported, a user who is almost certainly Talley posted for years under the handle BamainBoston. (_BuzzFeed_ managed to identify him because BamainBoston wrote a message headlined “Washington Post Did A Feature On Me,” linking to a 2014 Ben Terris profile of Talley. _BuzzFeed_ reported that a “Justice Department spokesman declined to comment on Talley’s behalf.”)

A search of TideFans.com reveals that BamainBoston often opined on controversial issues, including race, abortion, perceived federal overreach, and Southern heritage. In one post from February 2011, he defended the honor of the early Ku Klux Klan.

That morning at 9:17 a.m., a user with the handle Bamaro posted a story about a Mississippi proposal “to honor Nathan Bedford Forrest” by placing his image on a license plate. “Who comes up with these ideas?” the user asked. “Honor someone who served as the first KKK Grand Wizard.”

BamainBoston responded an hour later:

  Heaven forbid we let the facts get in the way of your righteous indignation, but Forrest, when he decommissioned his men, told them to make peace with the men they had fought and live as good citizens of the United States. It was only after the perceived depredations of the Union army during reconstruction that Forrest joined (it is highly unlikely that he founded or acted as the Grand Wizard) the first KKK, which was entirely different than the KKK of the early 19th Century. When the Klan turned to racial violence, he distanced himself from the organization as he had long supported the reconciliation of the races. In fact, he often spoke to black organizations.

BamainBoston is correct that, following the Confederacy’s surrender, Forrest urged his troops to “obey the laws” of the Union. The remainder of his statement, however, is factually dubious.

First, he omits the 1864 Fort Pillow massacre, when Forrest led his troops to a mass slaughter of black soldiers. It is unclear whether Forrest explicitly permitted the indiscriminate killing, but he later celebrated it, declaring his hope “that these facts will demonstrate to the Northern people that negro soldiers cannot cope with Southerners.”

Second, the allegation that “the first KKK” was “entirely different” from that of “the early 19th Century” does not withstand scrutiny. (BamainBoston almost certainly means “the early 20th century,” since there was no KKK in the early 1800s, and the organization experienced a revival in the early 1900s.) From its inception, the KKK promoted white supremacy and opposed federal efforts to protect the civil rights of freed blacks. The group employed intimidation and violence, including murder, to thwart Reconstruction. It was so effective at disenfranchising black voters through acts of racial terror that, in 1870, Congress passed the Ku Klux Klan Act to enforce the 15th Amendment, which bars race-based voting discrimination. When that proved insufficient, Congress passed a second law permitting the president to suspend habeas corpus to fight the Klan, and allowing individuals to sue state officials who interfered with their constitutional rights.

Contrary to BamainBoston’s assertion, Forrest did likely serve as the KKK’s first leader, or “Grand Wizard,” though the group’s secretive nature makes this charge difficult to prove definitively. In 1868, he described the Klan as “a protective, political, military organization.” He also asserted that he had “no powder to burn killing negroes,” and intended only “to kill the radicals”—that is, Republicans, especially from the North, who supported Reconstruction. However, by this point, the Klan had become notorious for its relentless brutality against freed blacks. Forrest did not disavow the KKK’s terrorism until several years later, when he finally condemned its tactics and expressed more enlightened views.

BamainBoston’s account, then, whitewashes the reality that Forrest’s leadership of the Klan coincided with its early forays into racial violence. It also falsely differentiates “the first KKK” from its later iteration, perpetuating a pernicious myth that the nascent Klan was noble and benevolent.

At the time that BamainBoston wrote this post about Forrest and the KKK, Talley was clerking for Judge Joel Dubina of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit. Assuming he wrote the post, which seems exceedingly likely, Talley does not seem to have a basic grasp on the history of Reconstruction, which is fundamentally intertwined with the 13th, 14th, and 15th\ amendments’ expansion of equal rights and suffrage.

Talley has already been voted out of the Senate Judiciary Committee on a party-line vote. If confirmed, he will enjoy a lifetime appointment to interpret a Constitution whose history he does not appear to understand.

_FIND ANYTHING NOTEWORTHY IN BAMAINBOSTON’S MESSAGE BOARD POSTS? EMAIL US AT TIPS@SLATE.COM._

ALSO SEE:
TRUMP JUDICIAL NOMINEE BRETT TALLEY APPEARS TO HAVE CALLED _ROE V. WADE_“INDEFENSIBLE”
TRUMP NOMINEE BRETT TALLEY APPEARS TO SUPPORT 20-YEAR-OLD WOMAN HAVING SEX WITH 14-YEAR-OLD BOY

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

question: What does the text say about Mike Pence?

question: Summarize the main news event.

answer: Donald Trump's nominee to be a federal district judge, Alabama lawyer Brett Talley, is a 36-year-old ghost hunter who has never tried a case before. He also failed to disclose to the Senate that he is married to the chief of staff to the White House counsel. The article also reports that it seems Talley has written 16,381 posts, or more than 3½ per day, on the University of Alabama fan message board TideFans.com as a user named "BamainBoston". Talley was identified because BamainBoston wrote a message headlined "Washington Post Did A Feature On Me," linking to a 2014 Ben Ferris profile of Talley. A search of TideFans.com reveals that BamianBoston often opined on controversial issues like race, abortion, perceived federal overreach, and Southern heritage. He even defended the honor of the early Ku Klux Klan. In his post, BamianBoston got most facts about the history of the Reconstruction wrong. If Talley gets the confirmation, he will enjoy a lifetime appointment to interpret a Constitution whose history he doesn't understand.

question: Summarize BamianBoston's first incorrect assertion about Nathan Bedford Forrest and the Ku Klux Klan.

answer: BamianBoston (Talley) defended the Mississippi proposal to honor Nathan Bradford Forrest by placing him on a license plate. He said that Forrest told his men to make peace with the men they fought and live as good citizens of the U.S. While BamianBoston is correct that Forrest urged his troops to obey the laws of the Union after the Confederacy's surrender, he fails to write about the 1864 Fort Pillow massacre, where Forrest and his troops slaughtered black soldiers. It's unclear if he permitted the indiscriminate killing, but he celebrated it later.

question: Summarize BamianBoston's second incorrect assertion about Nathan Bradford Forrest and the Ku Klux Klan.

answer: BamianBoston's second assertion was that Forrest only joined the KKK after depredations of the Union army and wasn't its founder or first Grand Wizard. He adds that the first KKK was entirely different than the KKK of the early 19th Century, and when the Klan turned to racial violence, he distanced himself from the organization. Contrary to BamianBoston's assertion, Forrest did likely serve as the KKK's first leader or Grand Wizard. Forrest did not disavow the KKK's terrorism until several years later. The first KKK wasn't entirely different from that of the early 19th Century KKK because there was no KKK in the early 1800s, so BamianBoston must have meant the early 20th century. Moreover, from its inception, the KKK promoted white supremacy and opposed federal efforts to protect the civil rights of freed blacks, employing intimidation, violence, and even murder to thwart Reconstruction.


text:
media captionFirefighters tackle fatal shopping centre fire

AT LEAST 64 PEOPLE HAVE DIED IN A FIRE THAT ENGULFED A SHOPPING AND ENTERTAINMENT COMPLEX IN THE SIBERIAN COAL-MINING CITY OF KEMEROVO.

Many of the victims are children. Ten people are still listed as missing.

The blaze started on an upper floor of the Winter Cherry complex during school holidays. The mall's shops, cinema and bowling alley were packed at the time.

Video posted on social media showed people jumping from windows to escape the flames.

"According to preliminary information, the roof collapsed in two cinemas," Russia's Investigative Committee said in a statement.

The cause of the fire is not yet known. The authorities have launched an investigation.

Four people have been detained for questioning, including the head of the company that manages the shopping centre, according to the Investigative Committee. The owner of the Winter Cherry complex is among those being held.

What do we know so far?

The fire broke out at about 17:00 (10:00 GMT) on Sunday. Some 660 emergency personnel were deployed in the rescue effort.

Firefighters said the building was still smouldering a day later, with smoke billowing out and the remaining structures at risk of collapse.

The region's deputy governor Vladimir Chernov was quoted as saying the fire probably began in a children's trampoline room.

"The preliminary suspicion is that a child had

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: A reporter for the tragedy.

question: Where did the fire originate?

answer: Probably in a chidren's trampoline room.

question: How many emergency personnel responded to the emergency?

answer: Some 660.

question: How long did the fire last?

answer: The building was still smoldering a day later.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: At least sixty four people die in a fire that engulfed a shopping and entertainment complex in Siberian Kemerovo. Many of the victims are children and ten people are still declared missing. The investigation is ongoing.