text:
“DEDICADO A MAX” (Spanish for “Dedicated to Max”) is the fifth episode of the fifth season of the AMC television series _Better Call Saul_, the spinoff series of _Breaking Bad_. The episode aired on March 16, 2020 on AMC in the United States. Outside of the United States, the episode premiered on Netflix.

In the episode, Mike awakes in Mexico at one of Gus' ranches after the beatdown in the previous episode. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Kim draw themselves closer in the Acker vs. Mesa Verde case.

Plot

Mike wakes on a ranch just inside the Mexican border which is owned by Gus and includes a fountain dedicated to Max. He finds his stab wounds were treated by Dr. Barry Goodman who cautions him to heal for a week while in the care of Senora Cortazar, the housekeeper and cook, before attempting to return to Albuquerque. Mike calls Gus to learn his intent, but Gus hangs up on him. Days later, Gus arrives in person and asks for Mike's help. Mike refuses to become a “button man” and engage in killing simply to further Gus's war against the Salamancas, but Gus says he wants Mike with him because Mike understands Gus's need for revenge.

Howard phones Jimmy and inquires if he has considered Howard's offer to join HHM; Jimmy claims he is still thinking it over. Jimmy, as Saul, creates delays in Mesa Verde's eviction of Everett Acker, including changing Acker's street number and claiming the eviction notices are for the wrong address, creating fake Native American artifacts, planting low-level radioactive material, and passing off a spray-painted image of Jesus on Acker's home as a miracle to hundreds of tourists and religious faithful. Kim tries to remove herself from the case by claiming a conflict of interest due to Jimmy's involvement, but Kevin insists she remain. As matters relating to Acker's eviction arrive at Schweikart & Cokely, Kim assigns them to the firm's associates, claiming they have expertise that she does not. Facing further delays, Rich encourages Kevin to follow Kim's plan to locate the Mesa Verde call center at an alternate site, but Kevin adamantly demands Acker's eviction.

Kim resigns herself to Acker's eviction. Jimmy suggests they could find “dirt” on Kevin and blackmail him into a compromise, but also counsels against doing it. Kim decides to proceed against Kevin, and Jimmy agrees. After Mike refuses the job, Jimmy hires Sobchak, who surveils Kevin and surreptitiously searches his house. Sobchak tells Jimmy and Kim that his search of Kevin's home revealed nothing damaging. Jimmy dismisses Sobchak from their meeting at his office in the nail salon after Sobchak's half-serious recommendations for what to do next include kidnapping and murder. Kim's knowing smile as she looks through Sobchak's photos indicates she has found something she can use against Kevin. The next day Rich suggests to Kim that she temporarily disengage from all Mesa Verde business, correctly deducing that her heart is not in it, but she angrily refuses.

Production

On the _Better Call Saul Insider_ podcast, showrunner Peter Gould said of Mike's scenes in this episode were partially inspired by the television show _The Prisoner_. Gould said that while Mike was not trapped on Gus' villa as with _The Prisoner_, the idea of being stuck in one place and using that as a form of self-reflection helped move Mike's character from what was established within _Better Call Saul_ toward what audiences had come to know within _Breaking Bad_, through Gus showing Mike a more personal side while standing next to the fountain that reminds Gus of Max.[1] Giancarlo Esposito, who plays Gus, described in an interview with _Variety_ that the idea of the villa setting was for Gus to share with Mike the idea of the utopia that Gus wanted, one where there may be need for enforcement via the armed guards, but otherwise everyone was free to enjoy life. Esposito said the scene was to try to show Mike how this setting contrasted with what was happening with events in Albuquerque with Lalo disrupting Gus' operations, and why Gus needed to recruit Mike to help.[2]

Reception

“Dedicado a Max” was well received by critics. At Rotten Tomatoes, it received a perfect 100% approval from 14 reviews with an average 7.93/10 review rating, with a summary "It's all coming together in “Dedicado a Max,” a callback-heavy installment that thrillingly expands on the characters of Mike and Kim, with Rhea Seehorn's performance a highlight."[3]

Ratings

“Dedicado a Max” was watched by 1.45 million viewers on its first broadcast,[4] which was an increase from the previous week of 1.22 million.[5]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

title: Dedicado a Max

question: How was the episode "Dedicado a Max" received?

answer: The episode was received well by critics. At Rotten Tomatoesw, it received a perfect 100% approval. It was watched by 1.45 million viewers on its first broadcast, up from 1.22 million the previous week.

question: What does "Dedicado a Max" mean?

answer: It's Spanish for "Dedicated to Max."

question: What's the significance of this episode being inspired by the television show "The Prisoner?"

answer: The idea of being stuck in one place and using that as a form of self-reflection helped move Mike's character from what was established within "Better Call Saul" toward what audiences had come to know within "Breaking Bad." The idea of the villa setting was for Gus to share with Mike the idea of the utopia Gus wanted, one where armed guards were necessary, but otherwise everyone was free to enjoy life. The scene was also said to try to show Mike how this setting contrasted with what was happening in Albuquerque.

question: What's the main feature of the plot of the episode?

answer: Mike waking up on a ranch in Mexico finding his stab wounds treated and advised to not leave the compound until his wounds are healed. Gus tries to recruit Mike to his revenge plot.

question: How does this episode fit into the plot of "Breaking Bad?"


split: test

text:
_HAIR BRAINED_ is a 2013 American fantasy comedy-drama film directed by Billy Kent and starring Brendan Fraser and Alex Wolff.[1][2]

Cast

-   Alex Wolff as Eli Pettifog
-   Parker Posey as Sheila Pettifog
-   Brendan Fraser as Leo Searly
-   Julia Garner as Shauna Holder
-   Michael Oberholtzer as Laird
-   Greta Lee as Gertrude Lee
-   Teddy Bergman as Alan Warren
-   Robin de Jesús as Romeo Torres
-   Elisabeth Hower as Eve Hansen
-   Austin Pendleton as Dapper Man
-   Toby Huss as Whittman Moderator / Brad the Announcer
-   Josefina Scaglione as Camilla
-   Kimiko Glenn as Perky Girl
-   Fred Melamed as Benny Greenberg
-   Lizzy DeClement as Sophie Searly

Reception

On review aggregator Rotten Tomatoes, the film holds an approval rating of 22% based on 18 reviews, with an average rating of 3.89/10.[3] Christy Lemire of RogerEbert.com awarded the film one star.[4]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

title: Hair Brained

question: Who is the film directed by?

answer: The film is directed by Billy Kent.

question: When was the film released?

answer: The movie released in 2013.

question: Who are the leading actors in the movie?

answer: It may be implied that the leading actors are Brendan Fraser and Alex Wolff.

question: What role has Brendan Fraser played?

answer: Brendan has played the role of Leo Searly.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer:
Hair Brained is an American comedy-drama film. The film released in 2013 and is directed by Billy Kent.

Based on 18 reviews on Rotten Tomatoes, the film holds an approval rating of 22% with an average rating of 3.89/10.


text:
[Henry Stancu]

Henry StancuStaff Reporter

__Fri., April 15, 20165 min. read

Article was updated Apr. 14, 2016

As Queen Elizabeth turns 90 on April 21, we pay tribute to some of the vehicles in the royal fleet.

Bentleys, Rolls-Royces, Land Rovers and Daimlers have been the brands of choice used by the Queen, members of the royal family and visiting dignitaries, all part of the fleet of vehicles housed in the Royal Mews garage at Buckingham Palace.

Chauffeurs drive the state vehicles, but having served as both a mechanic and ambulance driver during World War II, the Queen has logged a lot of her own drive time.

Starting with the new Bentley SUV that Queen Elizabeth is the first in line to own, having driven a prototype at her Balmoral estate in Scotland last fall, the following are six key cars Her Majesty is famously associated with.

2016 BENTLEY BENTAYGA

[The Queen's Bentley Bentayga is a "First Edition" model, which is set to have unique exterior and interior features designed to set it apart from other versions of this SUV.]

Unveiled at the 2015 Frankfurt Motor Show in September, this ultra-luxury SUV is a descendant of the British carmaker’s first SUV concept, the 2012 EXP 9. Its twin-turbo, 600 hp W12 (12 cylinders configured in a W shape) engine propels the Bentayga from 0 to 100 km/h in 4.0 seconds to a top speed of 300 km/h. Starting at $290,381 ,the Queen’s is #1 of 608 “First Edition” models marked with Union Jack badges, unique 22-inch alloy wheels, illuminated door sill entry plates, and a gravitationally self-winding Breitling dash clock. All the first editions were sold in advance and Bentley expects to assemble 3,000 to 4,500 Bentaygas per year to meet the demand for the world’s first uber-luxury SUV. Bentley hails its first ever 4X4 as “the most powerful, luxurious, and exclusive sport utility vehicle in the world.”

2015 RANGE ROVER STATE REVIEW

[Queen Elizabeth arrived in a hybrid 2015 Range Rover State Review parade vehicle when she presented "new colours" to the Royal Welsh regiment in Cardiff, Wales, last summer.]

It’s been said that Queen Elizabeth has owned as many Land Rovers as Corgis since her accession in 1952, and when it came time to update her 2002 Range Rover roadster, HRH went with a longer wheel base Range Rover Hybrid LWB landaulet. Powered by an SDV6 3.0-litre 340 hp turbo diesel engine mated to an electric motor and an eight-speed automatic transmission, it’s capable of launching from 0 to 100km/h in 6.9 seconds and reaching 217 km/h. As a state vehicle, specially customized by Jaguar Land Rover, this SUV is for public functions and not country cruises. It’s the fourth time the carmaker has built an open-roof landaulet model for the Queen to use as a parade vehicle, from which she can be seen as she waves to crowds. While private-use regal Land Rovers have traditionally been painted British racing green, state vehicles, from SUVs to limos, are typically a maroon colour, called Royal Claret Livery.

2002 BENTLEY ARNAGE GOLDEN JUBILEE EDITION

[Custom-built for Queen Elizabeth's Golden Jubilee, this 2002 Bentley limo was one of two that were specially designed for royal state occasions.]

Custom-built for Queen Elizabeth II’s 2002 Golden Jubilee, this lavish limo cost almost three times more than the base model’s list price. Weighing about 4,000 kilos, its 400 hp 6.75-litre V8 runs on propane to reduce emissions. Designed with security in mind, this state vehicle was expanded in length, width and height to contain all the necessary safety elements making it bulletproof and blast resistant. The tires are made with Kevlar and the sunroof is impervious. The bulked up exterior and cavernous insides makes occupants seem tiny. The glass panoramic roof and windows have a reflective coating sandwiched between two glass panels to keep it cool inside. It’s one of the Queen’s two Bentley state vehicles.

2000 LAND ROVER DEFENDER 110

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[Queen Elizabeth II drives herself in a Land Rover Defender 110 to the stables on the Sandringham Estate in Norfolk in one of the most-loved and long-lived off-road vehicles, and a favourite with the Queen.]

HRH has driven many Defenders since Land Rover began supplying 4X4s to the royal family when her father King George VI reigned in 1948. The Queen rarely drives in public, but she’s been often seen casually attired behind the wheel of these iconic British vehicles on royal properties. At Balmoral in 1998 she took the visiting prince of Saudi Arabia, Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, for a spin around the grounds. Hanging onto his seat, the future king of the Arab nation that forbids women to drive asked his regal chauffeur, through his interpreter in the back seat, to slow down. Its 122 hp 2.5-litre, five-cylinder diesel engine tops out at 130 km/h, more than anyone, including royalty, would care to go in a rough riding box built more for off-road conditions than long motorway hauls. The last Defender rolled off the line Jan. 29 this year.

1977 ROLLS-ROYCE PHANTOM VI SILVER JUBILEE EDITION

[Queen Elizabeth II drives herself in a Land Rover Defender 110 to the stables on the Sandringham Estate in Norfolk in one of the most-loved and long-lived off-road vehicles, and a favourite with the Queen.]

The official state vehicle until 2002 when Bentley became the Queen’s favoured armoured transporter, the Phantom VI was a gift from the Society of Motor Manufacturers and Traders in honour of her 25th anniversary as monarch. This was the royal Rolls that delivered Prince William’s fiancée, the soon-to-be Duchess of Cambridge, Kate Middleton and her father, to the 2011 wedding at Westminster Abbey. It was repaired and restored after protesting students pelted it with paint bombs, rocks and sticks five months earlier. The first Phantom VI ranked as the world’s most expensive car when it debuted in 1968. Packed with security features, the Queen’s Phantom is a custom-made, raised roof limo powered by a 535 hp 6.75-litre V8. The Queen’s Phantom VI has a silver hood ornament depicting St. George slaying a dragon, instead of the traditional Spirit of Ecstasy emblem.

2001 JAGUAR DAIMLER SUPER V8 LWB

The Queen has had three Daimlers for her personal use and for family members to travel between Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle and in the London area. She’s even driven one. Built at Jaguar’s Coventry factory, Daimlers have been a part of the royal fleet since they were first built in 1896. The Queen Mother owned four and monarchs from Edward VII to Elizabeth II have been chauffeured in Daimlers. The Queen’s favourite Daimler limo had custom security and communications features as well as various personal touches, like a rear sliding console panel for her handbag, specially designed window switches, custom leather seats and lambskin carpeting. Its supercharged 358 hp 4.0-litre V8 could reach a top speed of 250 km/h. That British racing green-coloured Daimler sold at auction in 2013 for £40,500 ($75,440 Cnd.) complete with a few Corgi hairs visible in the carpeting.

[Sure, this may look like any other Jaguar. But this Daimler was driven by the Queen before it went up for auction in 2013.]

question: Summarize some of the picks of the vehicles in Queen Elizabeth's royal fleet.

answer:
Queen Elizabeth turns 90 in April 2016 and has used many vehicles over the decades some of which are:
A. 2016 Bentley Bentayga - This is the first edition of this model. Possessing unique interior features, it is a throwback to Bentley's first SUV, the 2012 EXP 9. The Queen's version is marked with Union Jack badges, 22-inch alloy wheels, and a gravitationally self-winding Breitling dash clock.
B. 2000 Land Rover Defender 110 - The royal fleet has always had many Defenders since 1948.  Its recent acquisition has a 2.5 liter, five-cylinder diesel engine that tops out at 1130km/h.
C. 2001 Jaguar Daimler Super V8 LWB - The Queen has had three of these vehicles for personal and family use. The Queen Mother used to own four and monarchs from Edward II to the current Queen have been driven Daimlers. The current open has a supercharged 358 hp 4.0 liter engine that tops out at 250km/h.

question: Who did  Bentley give the Queen the first edition of the 2016 Bentley Bentayga and how much did she pay for it?


text:
***Quick A/N***: *This was originally posted to /r/nosleep but had to be taken down (because I am a dumbfuck).*

*Also, any concrit is eagerly welcomed.*
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No one is sure when The Limb-less got here, or where they came from. The only thing for certain is that we were here first.

No one even remembers a time before them. For generations and generations, for thousands of years, The Limb-less have been here. How are we certain they came after us? I don't know. It's just something everyone says. Something we all know to be true.

Limb-less is a bit of a misnomer. When I was young and asked about the name, I was told that when they first came here, however that was, they stood in such a way that their limbs were tucked neatly against their bodies, making them look like a body with no limbs. They were dubbed The Limb-less and the name stuck.

I've also heard that they originally didn't have limbs and evolved them, which sounds ridiculous. They didn't just sprout normal limbs like everyone else. But they have limbs attached to larger limbs, vaguely resembling trees. Their enormous size furthers the comparison.

No one is certain why they came here in the first place. The most commonly accepted theory is invasion. They barely noticed us, it seems, building their gargantuan homes around our homes, blotting out the sun. That they came here to harvest something is another popular theory. What that something is is unclear. It doesn't seem to be us, at any rate. Some of the crazier individuals say The Limb-less were here all along, hiding deep in our oceans until the time was right to surface.

My sister, who I'll get to in a little bit, she thought the reason nobody can agree on a motivation is because there wasn't one singular motivation. She believed that each Limb-less has their own reasoning.

It makes more sense than it should, seeing as how she was the only one who ever put forth that idea. But indeed The Limb-less seem to differ greatly.

For the most part, The Limb-less pay no attention to us. They neither seek us out nor avoid us. They don't seem to consider us at all, really.

However, there's some fractioning among them. Some of them will kill us on sight if we happen to cross their field of vision. They do not hunt us down, but prefer to lie in wait. Then there are the assassins. Their sole purpose is to hunt us down and kill us all. Unlike the ones who lie in wait and use blunt force to take us out one at a time, the assassins use some kind of poison that kills us all, spreading from one to another like a horrible infection.

Yet there are those of The Limb-less who do not seek to harm us at all. They will see us, know we are there, and be completely fine with our presence. Some of them will kill every other creature in range but purposefully avoid us.

Then there's the third group. Their mentality is most bizarre. They will kidnap one of us if seen and not kill us. Nor do they keep us captive. Instead, they will bafflingly Relocate us. Exactly as it sounds, they will abduct us and set us free hours from our home.

We disappear all the time, only to show up battered and worn but otherwise unharmed some hours later. I know lots who have been Relocated. Their stories are identical to my own experience: We are placed inside some sort of invisible force field, flown at frightening speeds to a different area of the map, then let go. Weirder still, they often release us in the same area. Everyone has been Relocated at least once or twice in their lives. My sister probably holds the record for number of Relocations.

Sometimes The Limb-less do interact with us without killing us. The smaller ones, which everyone generally assumes is their young, in particular show a curiosity toward us.

I was once out getting food when I spotted one. I froze, hoping to blend in with my surroundings, but it was too late. It's face, this horrifying monstrosity beyond description, took up my entire field of vision. Moments went by while I waited for it to act. It didn't move, just watched. So I inched my way along, warily. It still didn't attack, but it did follow me. It followed me as I grabbed my food, and continued to watch as I ate. Eventually it went away, perhaps having lost interest. It was the most harrowing experience of my life.

See, while their young seem to have mostly benevolent intentions, they are clumsy and uncoordinated, and dangerously unpredictable. The larger ones, for the most part, have their own patterns. You learn to identify the ones who will kill on sight, the ones who will let you go, and the ones who Relocate you.

We make sure to teach one another which of The Limb-less are to be avoided and which are safe. I make it a personal rule to avoid all of them just to be safe.

My sister does not hold my same belief.

In fact, she has been obsessed with The Limb-less ever since she claimed one of them has rescued her. She will tell the story to anyone who asks, and to most who don't. She had fallen into a lake, or ocean (the body of water seems to grow with each retelling) and struggled to stay afloat. Just when (according to her) she had accepted her death and was about to give up, a Limb-less spotted her and pulled her out of the water and onto dry land.

Over night she went from being reasonably cautious to dangerously daring. She started associating with the crazy ones. She's regurgitate some of their nuttier stories as if they were gospel. The Limb-less have replicated us in machine-form, she would tell me excitedly, or some of them, the bigger ones not just the young, study us, try to understand us.

This phase was harmless. Sure, she was believing some crazy stuff, but it was just stories. I figured she was just trying to rationalize The Limb-less's irrational behavior.

Then she decided she wanted to study The Limb-less back.

'We barely know anything about them,' she'd told me. 'Don't you think it odd that we haven't even tried to understand their language?'

She would go out in view and just observe them. She wasn't totally idiotic; she would try not to be seen by the ones who would kill on sight, but she was more reckless when it came to the others. This resulted in many Relocations. Each time she'd return chipper and full of breathless excitement, as if being Relocated was some sort of honor bestowed upon her, or a bonding moment.

She'd constantly update me on their movements and her theories regarding them. 'One stayed completely still for hours on end. I think it might have been at rest,' she'd tell me.

I'd hoped it was some sort of temporary rebellion. We were quite young when the famed near-drowning occurred. But her interest in The Limb-less never waned as we grew older. We each started families, and our children started their own families.

Even in old age she still wanted to know everything she could about them. Up until the day she died, she never ceased her investigation.

Eventually, their communication became her favorite subject. In fact, her intense study made her a sort of expert in the field. By observing them day in and day out, she had grown to recognize patterns in their language. Using contextual clues she could sort of determine the general meanings, or at least what it pertained to. She couldn't give a direct translation, but she was able to piece together if they were discussing rest or meals.

Somehow, through means I have yet to understand, she could also determine if The Limb-less was more likely to kill one of us or Relocate us. Because of this, she was sometimes tasked to identify the intention of a particular Limb-less to serve those who lived near it. I can't argue with results: she was absolutely spot on.

When I didn't see her for a while, I hadn't worried at first. I just assumed she had been Relocated again. As she aged it took her longer and longer to return home. Maybe she moved slower, maybe she paused to watch The Limb-less for a while.

I only went to her home to check to take care of her children. It wasn't like her to abandon them, but I thought it best to keep them company all the same.

That's when I saw her. My sister, dead.

I knew she hadn't been killed by The Limb-less. Their methods of killing made it obvious they were the culprits. Those killed by The Limb-less were either utterly obliterated beyond recognition, or poisoned. It wasn't poison, since nobody else in our family was sick, and she was whole and full, I knew it hadn't been one of them. It seemed, in all likelihood, she had died of old age.

It was a bittersweet moment. Just the day prior, she had gleefully informed me that she might have cracked their language. At least, she thought she had isolated and identified one particular word. 'This is the start,' she had told me. 'Everything is going to change.'

She had died full of hope and joy. She had died thinking she had done the impossible and had given us a way to possibly communicate with The Limb-less, to finally understand them.

She had died happy. But with her death went the very thing she had hoped for. Nobody had devoted their lives like she had. Nobody had ever gotten as far as she had, not even close. Because nobody had cared enough to.

I certainly hadn't cared when she informed me of the good news. Don't get me wrong; I was constantly impressed with the things she had gleaned. But I wasn't as excited as she had hoped when she had told me.

I regret that now. I hope that there will be someone like her, someone down the line who will have her passion for The Limb-less and do her memory proud. I'm far too old right now to go down that road, for it took my sister her entire life to get as far as she had. We were the same age. I don't have much longer before I meet her same fate.

But I hope her discovery will help whoever decides to study The Limb-less. So I'm going to share it as much as I can, hoping to spark an interest in her protegé.

She had identified the name The Limb-less have given us, what they use to describe us as a species.

That word is spider.

title: The Limb-less

question: What does the story say about Limb-less?

answer: The limb-less are creatures that the narrator and their kind are wary of.

question: What does the text say about the types of Limb-less?

answer: There are four kinds: For the most part, The Limb-less pay no attention to their kind. They neither seek them out nor avoid them. They don't seem to consider them at all. Some of them will kill on sight if they happen to cross their field of vision. Then there are the assassins. Their sole purpose is to hunt them down and kill them all. The assassins use some kind of poison that kills them all, spreading from one to another like a horrible infection. There are those of The Limb-less who do not seek to harm them at all. They will see them, know they are there, and be completely fine with their presence. Some of them will kill every other creature in range but purposefully avoid the narrator's kind. And the last are the most bizarre, ones that will relocate them on purpose but do not harm them.

question: What does the story say about the narrator's sister?

answer: The narrator's sister claims that a limb-less are not completely harmful. One of them saved her from drowning and she has been dedicated to studying them since. She can easily identify which type it would be. On the day she finally figured out how to communicate with them, she died, along with all her knowledge.

question: What does the text say about the narrator and their kind?

answer: The narrator and his kind are actually spiders and the "limb-less" are humans.


text:
One spoke with a high voice, raspy from a lengthy stint of smoking in his youth. One spoke with a smooth, low voice, like honey in the sun. They stood before the glass. On the other side, a doctor was speaking to a pregnant woman.

"What are they talking about?" The doctor with the high voice was always so empathetic from behind the glass.

And only behind the glass.

The other doctor's low voice came out so easily, it was soothing if not for his demeanor, "Movies, I think. Last I heard, she told the doctor she hadn't seen a movie since becoming pregnant."

"That's too bad."

"So he's been giving amateur reviews of what he's seen. Nice guy." Despite his low voice, he held himself high, now folding his arms to keep them from dangling.

"Amateur reviews from a health care professional."

The door opened. What may have become silence instead became the ticking clock of a superior's footsteps. The storm front had come in, the piper was calling.

"How's the machine doing today?" She asked of her subordinates.

"Just fine, like usual," the high voiced doctor answered, with a wrinkle of his brow in confusion, "why wouldn't it?" He added.

She disregarded his last remark, "Good. Here's Dr. Brahm, he'll be standing in today."

The high voiced doctor began to worry, "An audit?"

"A new promotion." She looked out to the hall to signal for Brahm's entrance.

The deeper voiced doctor shook his head, "Hell of a case to stand in on." He looked out at the woman.

Brahm entered, "Thank you, Dr. Saras," addressing the female doctor who had brought him in, "glad to be here."

"You won't be." The high voiced doctor corrected.

"This is Dr. Hanum," She gestured to the high voiced doctor, and then to the deeper voiced one, "and this is Dr. Sury. They are the primary caretakers of judgments based on the machine's results."

"Nice to meet you," Brahm shook Sury and Hanum's hands, then looked back at Saras for instruction.

She asked Sury and Hanum, "What do we have today?"

Sury, in his smooth way of talking, somehow made what he said worse by his nonchalance, "The lady in question came in for a sonogram and some other tests. The boys in testing decided to try the machine."

"And?"

"And the mother is cleared, but her baby, well..." Sury didn't want to finish what he was saying.

"Fifty percent." So Hanum did.

For a moment, Saras processed what had been said. Doctors Hanum and Sury both watched over the woman and the doctor. Neither knew of what was occurring behind the glass, and neither knew of the existence of any "machine."

"Fifty percent for what?" Brahm felt it was something that should have naturally been explained to him.

Saras, as the highest ranking professional in the room, felt it was her duty to explain, "Fifty percent that the baby will kill at least one person."

The look on Barhm's face was exactly the look Sury and Hanum had seen before. Saras thought nothing of it.

"You're joking. I don't do well with dark jokes in professional settings."

"You'll never last, then." Sury went back to looking through the glass.

"Come on, what's the real explanation?"

"That is the real explanation." Saras kept a serious look to make sure Barhm understood.

"*Right*. Okay. So *then* what?"

Hanum sighed before responding, "We make a decision. That's what we do." He indicated Sury and himself with his hands.

"Why don't you take a back seat to this and let them decide? You're here to learn, after all." Saras informed Brahm.

Brahm began thinking this was all a crude act, "Okay."

Sury was surprised by his submission, "Now then, we have the method of chemically stalling the unborn child's development to the point of miscarriage selected."

Brahm began sweating.

"It's just that fifty percent seems a little too on-the-nose for this." Hanum retorted.

"And yet that's what it is." Sury didn't want to waste time.

Saras again questioned their collective proficiency, "How many times did the machine run?"

Hanum went into his pocket for a small sheet, "They tell me it was run at least 20 times. No deviation greater than a percent. Average is exactly fifty percent."

"Could it be a test?" Even Saras wasn't sure.

Sury was impatient, "Look, does it matter? We still have to make a judgment."

Brahm couldn't take it anymore, "You can't make a judgment on that!"

Again, silence.

"Well, we do," Sury just wanted to finish this quickly and forget about it, "even now, we will."

"Usually, anything above fifty we don't make question, we just do it. Anything below, and we give them a pass." Hanum assured.

"Never exactly fifty before, though." Saras added.

"I don't think it's a test. Statistically, it was bound to happen."

Sury was annoyed by this, "Whether or not it is, we need to treat it as if it weren't a test."

Brahm felt like they were missing his point, "But what about the other fifty percent? What if this kid cures cancer? What if the machine is misjudging?"

"What if it isn't?" Hanum was speaking to himself as well.

Saras leaned against the wall. She wanted to see how Sury and Hanum would handle Brahm's difference in perspective.

"You have to give people the chance!" The tension was getting to Brahm.

Sury looked him over, then prepared himself to speak longer than he'd like to, "Look, Brahm. I know you're thinking about this from a moral perspective. But this is a life-or-death situation. Maybe not for us, but for that unborn child and whomever their victim or victims might be one day. Now, maybe doing all this makes *me* a killer, too. It would only make sense if someone had aborted me, if what I'm doing really is wrong. Maybe one day I'll grow to take this all too personally and snap, shooting my family dead. It would have been better if I was never born."

Brahm didn't know how to respond.

Sury continued, "Even though my kids would never be born, it would be a much fairer trade. My wife would probably just have had kids with someone else, and the world would be better off."

Hanum tried to appeal more to Brahm's logical side, "This baby might one day become a terrorist, a mass shooter, killing dozens of more innocent people."

"It's one life versus many." Sury justified.

Brahm wasn't satisfied, "And if the child doesn't grow up to kill anyone?"

"Doesn't matter." Sury waved it away with his hand.

"Of course it does!" Brahm couldn't keep his composure any longer.

Saras did nothing to interrupt.

"It's like that train thing, with one person on the tracks and a splitter with four people on the other one." Hanum quietly tried to share.

Brahm was still erratic, "I'd trade four of you for that baby, right now!"

"You've lost yourself." Sury casually observed.

"Look," Hanum attempted calming Brahm down, "the mother will never know. It will be peaceful. There's no harm done to either of them."

Saras closed her eyes, "No harm?" She thought.

Hanum felt like he was better suited to appealing to Brahm than Sury was, "It's a flip of a coin. However, if we kill the child and we're wrong, we'll never know. If we let it be born and we're wrong about it, then people die."

"You're killing a child. Either way." Brahm's breathing was unsteady.

"*Unborn* child." Sury pointed out.

"It's not like we take pleasure in this." Hanum added.

"Well, maybe if we save lives."

"But we'll never know for sure."

"The uncertainty is why we must choose death."

Brahm stood there, feeling dizzy. They were bombarding him with their logic now. Somehow, it felt like they were missing something. Brahm couldn't discern what it was, distracted by his own emotions. He felt he had to say something to stall a bit longer, though.

"Do you know how many people they might kill?" Was all he could think of.

"We don't know for sure. Could become a serial killer, could just be a suicide." Sury let it slip.

"Suicide?" Brahm found it hard to breath; somewhere within him, his respiratory system appeared to be failing, "You might prevent them from being born because they might kill themselves?"

"We don't know who they'd kill or how many, so we have to make the safest bet." Hanum again tried appeasing Brahm's worries.

"Safe? How... wait... you two had this already decided before I even showed up. Probably before you even got the reading from the machine. Am I wrong?"

"Saras, he's becoming hysterical." Sury's disposition toward Brahm was becoming increasingly hostile.

Brahm then felt like he finally came up with an alternative, "How about treatment?"

Hanum squinted, "Altering the unborn child's chemistry is not something we understand, nor could do safely. We don't want to harm the mother for the sins of her child."

"This child has their whole life ahead of them. To take that away is beyond evil. You have to give them a chance. If people are infinitely capable of good or evil, then you have to give them the chance to succeed or fail. It's only fair."

Sury interjected, "And is it fair for someone innocent to then be removed from the world of the living because of one unstable person's idiotic decision?"

Brahm kept going, "So you treat them. *After birth.* You know that they could be at risk, so you have the advantage. You make sure that they don't become the worst version of themselves. But judging someone on who they *might* become is impossibly silly. We are all capable of good and evil, even now."

Sury shook his head. Hanum smirked. Saras kept to herself.

Eventually, she answered, "Do you know what that might cost?"

"Cost?"

"We test hundreds of people a day. If we had to go and raise all of them, that would be a significant burden on the tax payers. It's hard enough funding the hospital as it is, with pharmaceutical companies charging fortunes and pressure from insurance companies."

Brahm looked at her, "I thought you of any of them might've understood."

Sury looked back through the window.

Hanum knew where this was heading, "It's just impractical."

Brahm wanted to laugh, though the gravity of the room smothered even that, "Cost? How much does a life cost then, before it is too much to justify saving?" He looked around from face to face, expecting no answer. Then, he targeted Sury again, "*You* have kids. What would you think if one of them were erased like this?"

"One was. I had all my wife's pregnancies checked." He looked out at the woman still conversing with the friendly doctor on the other side of the glass.

Brahm had a look of horror, "So, you've been doing this for that long?" Then he thought, "I wonder, did my parents get checked before having me?"

Hanum then addressed Sury, getting back on track while Brahm was dazed, "He brings up a good point, Sury. If we knew how many people they might kill, it would allow us to skew the percentage a bit, mathematically. Fifty percent to kill oneself shouldn't weigh nearly as much as fifty percent to bomb a building. Or even fifty percent to shoot a single person."

Sury turned to Saras, "Think it would be possible for the machine to be improved?"

Saras folded her arms, "We've been looking into that for some time. It'll take another couple of years to secure the funding."

"Guess we go on like normal," Sury brushed it off.

"This isn't right."

Hanum and Sury looked at Brahm, then at Saras. They non-verbally decided that he was beyond convincing. Saras shrugged, unfazed by this realization.

She stepped between them all and looked Brahm in the face, "If it were me, that were the mother, I'd like to have the choice." She put her hand on his shoulder, "It's only right that *she* be the one to decide, isn't it?"

Brahm's eyes shifted focus between each of hers, then down to his feet, "I guess it should be up to the parent."

"Clever compromise," Sury chuckled.

"I wouldn't want to ever go through that, though. I can't imagine any parent would choose unbirth over birth." Brahm mumbled.

Saras began guiding Brahm to the window, "You did well." She then eyed Hanum.

"Yes," He added, "you pass with flying colors."

He looked up, "Pass? This was a test?"

Sury laughed, "Sure. We have to make sure all doctors adhere to a strict moral compass, don't we?"

Brahm smiled, "So it really *was* some kind of joke?"

Saras nodded it away, "No, this is serious business. We don't take this kind of thing lightly."

"I'm so relieved. I can't believe I fell for it." Brahm noticed how much he had been sweating, despite the cool air of the room.

Saras then sent Brahm out of the room. He walked out, Saras following him shortly behind. The door swung open into a sterile hallway, appearing of ivory. By comparison, the room looked darker, devoid of light, as Brahm left it.

Just before Saras joined him in the hall, she looked back in at Hanum and Sury, "Finish this quickly," before shutting the door behind her.

Sury looked back through the glass, "We would have if she hadn't shown up."

Hanum looked at the woman and the doctor, "Think they're still talking about movies?"

"Maybe he should quit and become a film critic." His honey voice was able to keep Hanum at ease.

Hanum's raspy voice now sounded tired after the stress of Brahm's inclusion in their work, "I hope she sees some more movies. Some of the recent releases have surprising endings."

The two submitted their decision less then five minutes later. Brahm never saw Hanum or Sury ever again. Saras waited a week before bringing anyone else in the room, to "test" them. Still, the days went on, and the pregnant woman left that day not feeling a thing out of place.

title: [SP] Decision of Glass Lives

question: What was the debate over what to do with the unborn child?

answer: The discussion revolved around a machine reading that gave the child a 50% of becoming a killer. It fell upon the doctors to decide whether the child should be killed or allowed to live. The doctors had to decide. Usually if the chance was greater than 50% the child would be killed and less than 50% it would be allowed to live. This is the first time that it was exactly 50%.

question: What is the real objective behind the debate over the child.

answer: The objective is to test the compassion of a new doctor. The other doctors have set up the scenario, making Doctor Brahm think that he has some input into the life and death decision. Brahm passes the test as he comes up with a compromise.


text:
1 / 2

A Florida state representative told a group that God told him to a rewrite an abortion bill without exceptions for rape or incest.In a speech given to Women for Responsible Legislation group in Pensacola, Florida, state representative Mike Hill said God spoke directly to him about a restrictive abortion bill he had previously tried and failed to pass in Florida’s legislature."As plain as day, God spoke to me,” Mr Hill, a Republican, told the group. “He said 'that wasn't my bill,' talking about the heartbeat detection bill that I filed. He said 'that wasn't my bill.'"“I knew immediately what he was talking about,” the state representative confirmed.The bill which Mr Hill, and, allegedly, God, were referring to would have restricted abortions after a fetal heartbeat is detected. Mr Hill’s proposed version of the ban, which is currently sweeping the nation in various forms, included exceptions for rape, incest, medical emergency, human trafficking, and domestic violence. Mr Hill told the group he included the exception in hopes of getting the bill passed, but the proposed law died before getting a committee hearing, which he lamented was more focused on "health care, transportation, and the Everglades" than his attempt at an abortion ban, according to the Pensacola News Journal.Mr Hill says he’s currently working on a new bill, with outside help."[God] said, 'you remove those exceptions and you file it again.' And I said 'yes Lord, I will'," Mr Hill said. "It's coming back. It's coming back. We are going to file that bill without any exceptions, just like what we saw passed in Alabama."On Friday, the ACLU and Planned Parenthood sued the state of Alabama for its unconstitutional abortion ban. Representatives of the ACLU of Alabama told The Independent on Thursday that they expect the legal fight to take around three years. Abortion remains legal in the state for now.

A Floridastate representative told a group that God told him to a rewrite an abortion bill without exceptions for rape or incest.

In a speech given to Women for Responsible Legislation group in Pensacola, Florida, state representative Mike Hill said God spoke directly to him about a restrictive abortion bill he had previously tried and failed to pass in Florida’s legislature.

"As plain as day, God spoke to me,” Mr Hill, a Republican, told the group. “He said 'that wasn't my bill,' talking about the heartbeat detection bill that I filed. He said 'that wasn't my bill.'"

“I knew immediately what he was talking about,” the state representative confirmed.

The bill which Mr Hill, and, allegedly, God, were referring to would have restricted abortions after a fetal heartbeat is detected. Mr Hill’s proposed version of the ban, which is currently sweeping the nation in various forms, included exceptions for rape, incest, medical emergency, human trafficking, and domestic violence.

Mr Hill told the group he included the exception in hopes of getting the bill passed, but the proposed law died before getting a committee hearing, which he lamented was more focused on "health care, transportation, and the Everglades" than his attempt at an abortion ban, according to the _Pensacola News Journal._

Mr Hill says he’s currently working on a new bill, with outside help.

"[God] said, 'you remove those exceptions and you file it again.' And I said 'yes Lord, I will'," Mr Hill said. "It's coming back. It's coming back. We are going to file that bill without any exceptions, just like what we saw passed in Alabama."

On Friday, the ACLU and Planned Parenthood sued the state of Alabama for its unconstitutional abortion ban. Representatives of the ACLU of Alabama told _The Independent_ on Thursday that they expect the legal fight to take around three years. Abortion remains legal in the state for now.

[]

question: What did God tell Mr. Hill to do?

answer: [God] said, 'you remove those exceptions and you file it again.' The bill which Mr Hill, and, allegedly, God, were referring to would have restricted abortions after a fetal heartbeat is detected. Mr. Hill’s proposed version of the ban, which is currently sweeping the nation in various forms, included exceptions for rape, incest, medical emergency, human trafficking, and domestic violence. Now, Mr. Hill plans to remove the exceptions.


text:
VICTORY FOR THE SOUTH – A southern platoon with an Abraham tank is transported back in time to the Gettysburg battle.  The platoon leader wants to change the battles outcome, but the black privates are afraid winning the battle may affect the Civil War’s outcome and the abolishment of slavery so everyone can be free.

The restoration building for the Hunley Submarine resides in the old Charleston Navy Yard. The Hunley sits in a 90,000 gallon conservation tank, among several artifacts in displays excavated from inside the submarine.  One of these artifacts is the gold coin Lt. George Dixon carried with him when the H.L. Hunley sank 138 years ago.

The Hunley submarine was found in Charleston’s harbor, South Carolina.  According to legend, Lt. George E. Dixon, who commanded the Hunley on its historic mission, had a sweetheart named Queenie Bennett from Mobile, Alabama. When he went off to war, she gave Dixon a 20 dollar gold coin, as a good luck charm.  It is rumored she also had voodoo practitioner Marie Catherine Laveau from New Orleans bless it with a voodoo spell of protection.  The coin saved Dixon’s life in the battle of Shiloh and he kept the coin when he commandeered the Hunley.

KRIS BROOKS (age 20s) sister to Lieutenant CHUCK BROOKS of the 13th South Carolina ARMORED DIVISION, steals this coin and gives it to her younger brother who is destined for Iraq later in the year.  When she tries to renew the coin’s original spell, she accidently sends her brother’s platoon back into time, days before the Gettysburg battle.

Lieutenant Brooks and his men are 100 percent southern and believes what the South fought for in the Civil War.  He realizes that he can change history and he does not care if it’s cheating – he believes he was sent back for a purpose. The platoon lays low and out of sight at a farm 10 miles outside Gettysburg.  The platoon had to take the farm’s family by force, no one was hurt.  Lidia, a freed slave, falls for the black private Benjamin and he falls for her.

Lieutenant Brooks decides they will attack the Union before the start of Pickets Charge. The more he realizes he can change history, the more he is determined to do it.  A Union patrol stops near the house and discovers Lieutenant Brooks, who then has all of the 30 men killed after his platoon had surrounded them.

The two black privates do not know how to stop lieutenant Brooks. That night they slip away from the farm with their weapons, including an anti-tank missile launcher, to warn General Meade of the impending attack by their platoon.  They hide their weapons, including the anti-tank missile launcher, before being captured by Union pickets, and brought before General Meade.  He does not believe they are from the future and has the two black privates jailed.

The freed black slave Lidia is able to find her way into the jail and give Benjamin a loaded revolver; they escape the night before Pickets Charge. Lidia is friends with the white person who runs the Underground Railroad, and he brings the black soldiers to General Meade, who is led to where the black soldiers stashed their weapons.  A demonstration of their weapons convinces General Mead they may be telling the truth. While they are examining their weapons, Benjamin accidently fires the anti-tank missile launcher, the only missile they had to stop Lieutenant Brooks.  General Meade is convinced by the black privates he has to dig anti-tank ditches around the center of the front line where they feel Lieutenant Brooks will send his platoon.

Lieutenant Brooks drives his tank and the platoon into General Lee’s camp about 5:00 AM.  The confederates are completely startled with the picket guards firing at them.  Brooks raises a white flag and asks to see General Lee where he convinces him they are from the future when he shows him a few apps on his iPhone. At 2:00 PM Lieutenant Brooks is in front of General Picket’s troops waiting for the signal to charge.

Jump to the future…..

The teacher (Android) is teaching other androids in class explaining the North American map and how it became divided into two different countries – the United States of America and the Confederate States of America (CSA).   The instructor begins explaining how androids enslaved humans.  It seems that when Lieutenant Brooks and his platoon went back into time, the modern weapons he brought resulted in a technological revolution before it’s time.  The technology was exploited by a few capitalists in the CSA who lost control of the technology allowing machines to become rulers on earth.

title: [SF] VICTORY FOR THE SOUTH

question: Summarize how the voodoo coin ended up with Lieutenant Chuck Brooks.

answer:
The restoration for the old Hurley Submarine which sank 138 years ago made the discovery of the gold coin that Lt. George Dixon carried possible. The coin was given to Dixon by his sweetheart named Queenie Bennett who had it blessed by a voodoo practitioner. According to legend, the coin saved Lt. Dixon's life at the battle of Shiloh, hence he kept the coin when he commandeered the Hunley submarine.
Kris Brooks, who is the sister of Lt. Chuck Brooks of 13th South Carolina Armored Division, stole the coin and gave it to her brother. When she tried to renew the spell, the coin sent Chuck Brooks back to the past, days before the Gettysburg battle. Lt. Brooks, realizing what happened, resolved to make sure the South won the American Civil war by sing superior weapons from the 19th century.

question: Why did Kris Brooks steal the coin?


text:
I think that people are inherently good. I strongly believe in the Golden Rule. I treat others as I would like to be treated: Holding doors open for those that I sense would have trouble. Giving up my seat to those that look as though they might need it: men, women, and the elderly. Being considerate! Saying thank you, and you're welcome! Thinking of others before myself. Writing "thank you" letters when appropriate. Not being mean to animals (perhaps excluding snakes and spiders unless they keep to themselves). I had always helped, and it felt good. But slowly, I began to notice things were changing. I still wanted to help others, but it was getting more difficult as I was passing the 3/4 of a century mark. I would tell my friends (just kidding) that I couldn't associate with people that old. When did I get this old? I have children over 50 and grandchildren over 20. Has society changed? Are its members less caring? I have heard this.

I went to a take-out pizza establishment last week. Going in, I held open the door for a young lady who said "thank you", and when I entered, she insisted that I order before she did. The place was busy with little space to stand. When I picked up my order, I had to squeeze my way to the door as there was not much room, and I was having some trouble walking. As I got to the door, it opened. Automatic I thought. I looked down to find a boy of about ten holding it for me and smiling. "Did I look that feeble?" I thought. I said thank you, and he was smiling as he said "your welcome." No one had told him to do it. He was on his own. I think it made him feel good! Someone had taught him manners. It feels good to help others.

Another pizza place I go to has a flight of stairs to overcome. Going up is not a problem, but going down with a pizza in hand is. One of the young employees asked if she could help. I said "sure". I went ahead, got in the car, and she handed it through the car window to me, all-the-while sporting a wide grin. Thanks, I said. You are welcome, she replied. Every time I get pizza and she is working, she immediately says "I'll give it to you through the window." I think it makes her feel as good as it does me!

When I go to the grocery store, I buy 2-3 weeks of food because I don't know when I will have the energy again(pain when walking, but getting better). The box boys or girls will always ask if they can empty the shopping cart for me. Then they bag the groceries and ask if they can help me load them into the car. I always ask them if they can go home with me and unload them and put them away too. They smile, we joke. I ask them if they are still in school and where they are attending. They are always friendly. I say thank you and they say "you're welcome".

When did I get old? I stopped playing competitive softball at 70 due to some injuries, but I received a call from one of my softball friends saying that he is forming an 80-year old competitive team and would like me to play on the team. It was nice of him to ask, and I do think he meant it. As soon as I get rid of my pain, I will start slowly working out again. My mind says yes, but my body isn't so sure. I am "bird-walking"----getting off the subject now, so must get back on point.

I had an appointment with a pain clinic. I knew the area well but had never seen the medical office. I had the address, but could not find any numbers on the buildings. My car does not have GPS(2002 model), and I was ten minutes late for the meeting. I had to park across the street in a dirt parking lot. The street had moderate traffic, but I managed to get across. The curb must have been at least 18-24 inches high. It seemed like an insurmountable wall, but by holding on to the front of a parked car, I managed to get up. Now there were four steps to climb and a heavy door to open. At the top of the stairs was a man of about 35 years old. He had tattoos on his arms and neck, and smiled at me and politely opened the door. I said thanks. I was told that other patients would have to be seen before me, and the wait might be an hour or more. I decided not to wait. I would go to the car, call my private doctor, tell him my pain situation and see if he would give me a shot for the it.

As I left the pain center, the tattooed man stood at the base of the steps. He smiled again and asked me if I needed any help. Was he waiting for me to leave so he might mug me? I wobbled down the 4 steps and said no thank you, my car is just across the street. He said, "You don't look as though you can go that far". "If you give me your keys, I will go over and get it for you." I thought, "Sure, then you will drive the car away." My car was a 15-year old Hyundai SUV. I didn't trust him even though he had opened a door for me and smiled at the same time. Surely, he had devious intentions. "This doesn't look good," I thought. So, I said, "I can make it." He backed off but watched as I tried to negotiate the 18 in curb. There was no car for me to grab for balance. He began to approach me again, and I began to sweat. There was no one else nearby. He put one arm around my waist and proceeded to lift me off the ground. Then, oh so gently, moved me off the curb and onto the street 18 inches below. "I hope this helps," he said with a smile. "I'll watch as you cross the street", he said still smiling. I felt bad that I had jumped to conclusions and again said "thanks".

I called my doctor whose office was 10 minutes away. His nurse told me that the doctor said to come in, and he wanted to know if she could give me the shot. I said that would be fine, but I will have a lot of trouble getting out of the car much less getting around to the office as the parking was in the back. He worked from the house that he had turned into his office. He was the only doctor that worked there. I had known him and his nurse for 25 years. She was cute and always in a good mood. She came to the back, needle in hand, had me open the driver's side door, had me pull one side of my pants down an inch exposing my left hip, and with great joy jammed the needle in it.

"This doesn't look good!," I said smiling. "People might get the wrong idea!" She laughed, I smiled. This didn't look good, but neither did the fellow with the tattoo. This was all about people that I had met recently and the good that they had done, and how it feels to help others.

title: [MF] THIS DOESN'T LOOK GOOD...

question: What does the text say about being old?

answer: The narrator is old, but he doesn't remember when he became too old. His health is deteriorating, and he's beginning to find it difficult to be courteous to strangers in random moments, like holding doors open. His difficulties are obvious enough that strangers notice and usually help. The narrator heard that people became less forthcoming in helping strangers, but his experiences defy that view. The narrator stopped being able to play softball at 70, but a friend is forming an 80-year old competitive team, and he wants to participate when he gets rid of his pain.

question: What does the story say about strangers?

answer: The narrator heard that people are becoming less caring, but his experiences defy that claim. He's old, and whenever strangers see that he's having trouble navigating the environment, holding doors open, carrying bags, etc, they help him. In one case, the narrator gets suspicious that a man offering to help him is harboring ill intentions due to the man's tattoos, but it turns out the man meant well, which embarrasses the narrator.

question: What does the story say about Alzheimer's?


text:
In a sun-drenched, sticky, tourist infected corner of Orlando, FL rests a Whole Foods Market. It was strategically planted within a few miles of Disney property in the hope we'd see our share of the tourist economy.

That's where I work as a customer service supervisor.

It's a very transient place. The tourists, our team members, upper management, everyone is always arriving or departing. We have a permenent Uber lane. There are little grab and go shampoos and shaving creams at every register. A whole section of our store is dedicated to hotel-related items. We even sell sandwiches in adorable, airplane shaped boxes. Every customer you meet is heading home soon and all the employees will tell you they're "forming an exit plan". You'll work with a guy for 6 months and one day he's vanished. The next thing you hear is a Facebook notification - "Loading up the car for Portland, wish me luck Orlando!"

As a result it can be easy to stop concerning yourself with the everyday details of those around you, even co-workers you see ten or twenty times a day. No one sticks around here.

Case in point, this Asian chick whose been working behind the Juice Bar for somewhere between 4 months to a year, I can never tell. It just so happens most of my day is spent in a customer service booth directly across from this Bar. At that distance, maybe 50 feet, we'd exchange simple gestures - a glance here or nod there. I can tell you very little about her. She's maybe 5'3 with Dark Brown, chin length hair pinned up into a crayola orange beanie and covered neck to knees in an over-sized, white chefs coat. That's about it. One of the few other things I'd noticed was a handwritten name tag reading, "Bok Choy" in black permenent marker.

I'll mention that this isn't so strange a thing to see on a name tag at Whole Foods Market. We have a store manager whom we regard as "Juice" because he's a 6'9 hipster with a bright orange Slayer beard. On any given day his name tag might say "Juice", "The Juice" or "Juiced". There's also a few hippies from the holistic team who renamed themselves after their astrological sign. A person's name tag can say literally anything here.

This day I decided to order a Juice, which is unusual for me. Approaching the register, I say, a bit loudly, "Hey, Bok Choy, what's up?".

A cold stare came back in my direction.

"My name is Melanie. Seriously, Jason? I'm wearing a name tag and everything."

I put a stupid look on my face and pointed at her chest. As I'm dropping my finger arrogantly towards the tag it finally hits me - the tag says "Favorite Vegetable". Not name, but "Favorite Vegetable". The real one, it turns out, was attached to her beanie.

Instead of stopping here, as would be prudent, I did as I often do and talked myself into a worse place.

"But you can see where that's confusing for me, right Melanie? I'm over there, you're over here. That's a name tag from 50 feet away. I have basically no vantage point on your beanie. Your head is obstructed by the wheatgrass grinder."

Now she starts laying on the sarcasm.

"But it says Bok Choy AND Favorite Vegetable, dude." The font is nearly the same size on both."

"But it's a name tag in the spot where normal people pin name tags! I'm not responsible for checking whether it, just this once, also says Favorite Vegetable."

"It's green", she says. "The name tag is green and has a little cauliflower head sticking out of the top of it. Did you also not notice those two things?"

"I was thinking the Produce team just got cool, custom ones. Listen, people get nick names around here, ya know?"

"And so you thought they nicknamed the new Asian girl Bok Choy and put it on her name tag?"

I ordered my juice. It was a Bombay Sunrise - OJ, Turmeric and Ginger. Needless to say, She took a few "liberties" with the recipe and I nearly spit fire.

title: [HM] Bok Choy

question: Why does Melanie get offended?

answer: The narrator goes to order a drink from her and ends up calling her "Bok Choy", assuming it's either her name or nickname. Melanie is Asian, and she gets annoyed, especially because the tag on her shirt that says "Bok Choy" is listing her favorite vegetable. She has a name tag on her beanie, but the narrator couldn't see it since his view from afar was obstructed. However, the narrator tries to justify his mistake instead of apologizing, which seems to further intensify Melanie's annoyance.

question: What is the work environment of the narrator like?

answer: He works at a Whole Foods store in a tourist-heavy location, near a Disney property. Almost all the people are transitory, even the team members and upper management. Due to this, people don't foster an interest in the day-to-day lives of others as often as they would in another place. He's not sure whether an Asian girl there has been working for a year or just four months. People also wear name tags with their nicknames written on them often, like their boss walking around with a tag that says "Juice", "Juiced", or "The Juice". These two things combined causes the narrator to commit a faux-pas, calling the girl "Bok Choy", which isn't her name but her favorite vegetable.

question: What does the text say about eating healthy?


text:
The Ability to Speak to Animals
“Hey guys, come over here and check this out!” That was me, 10 years old, with the adventurous nature of Lewis and Clark and a bowl cut sitting on top of a face only a mother could love. I was playing ball with some friends when it got lost in shrubs; I went to retrieve the ball but what I stumbled on instead changed my life forever.
“Where are you? Dude hurry up and grab the ball already” That was my “friend” Ricky. Ricky’s the type of kid to turn off the Nintendo if he isn’t winning and blame it on his finger slipping; he would come to your house, clog the toilet, then leave without telling anybody; he was best friends with my best friend so he always tagged along. I hated him.
“No seriously, guys c’mere I have no idea what the heck this is.” In my hand I held what looked like one of those gravy pourers, the things you use at Thanksgiving, decked out in gold and silver. And it was really heavy.
“Woah, dude…is that what I think it-“ Before Ricky got to finish his dumb sentence, a cloud of smoke exploded from the thing and when it all cleared, a genie was left floating over it.
This genie was pretty short, and kinda fat, with a really bad fake tan. So it threw me off guard when he proclaimed in a booming voice, the genie proclaimed “I AM PA-“
“Wh-who are you?” Ricky interrupted.
“Shut up kid. Like I was saying, I AM PATRICK: THE-”
“Ohmygod, are you a genie?”
With the snap of the genie’s finger, Ricky’s mouth disappeared.
“That’s much better. Anyway, like I was saying, I am Patrick: the Genie.”
“Wow!” Jimmy (my actual friend) and I were in awe. “Does that mean we get like three wishes or something?”
“Three wishes? You think wishes grow on trees or something? Nah kid,” he began murmuring to himself and counting off of his fingers “let’s see, its 1999…inflation…supply and demand…hmm…yes…that’ll come out to about $5.47 a wish, but I’ll round it down to five for ya.”
“But genie sir-“
“That’s Mister Patrick: The Genie, Sir, to you.” His voice was high pitched and nasally, like Joe Pesci in “My Cousin Vinny”.
“But Mister Patrick: The Genie, Sir, we’re only ten years old, we don’t have that kind of money.”
“Well, that sucks. I’ll tell ya what, I’ll be in this bush till like five or six, why don’t you guys run home, borrow whatever’s in your mom’s purse and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Gee thanks geni-“
“Nuh, uh, uh” he said as he wagged his finger.
“Ugh, thanks Mister Patrick: The Genie, Sir.”
Me and Jimmy, caught up in the excitement, ran home to grab the contents of our moms’ purses, completely forgetting about Ricky, whose mouth was still missing from his face; well, Jimmy forgot, I just neglected to remind him; sue me. Anyway, we only managed to rustle up a combined eight dollars, which if you were keeping track, is $2 short of a wish for both of us.
“Ah, only eight dollars?” the Genie said in a patronizing tone, “I’ll see what I can do, don’t expect too much though. Kid in the red shirt,” that was Jimmy, “whattya want?”
“Uhm, uhh, uhhmmmmm-“
“Hurry up kid, I don’t got all day.”
“Ooh! Ooh! I know, uhmmm, a dog that can shoot fireworks out of its eyes!”
“Uh…sure, kid. Here ya go.” And with a flick of the genie’s fingers, a dog shooting fireworks out of his eyes appeared.
The authorities never did track Jimmy and his dog down.
“And what do you want kid?” he said as he turned to face me.
“I want the ability to communicate to animals!”
“Easy enough, alright, you kids happy now? I’ll see ya around.” And just like that he disappeared.
Fifteen Miserable Years Later
I got out of bed, the sun barely peaking over the trees, enough to keep me from falling back to sleep but not enough to illuminate my room. As I shuffled around, trying to put my legs through my boxers, and then trying to push my foot through the rolled up pant leg on my khakis, I told the birds to shut the hell up. All they fucking do is wake up at 4 in the morning and start screaming at the lady-birds to have sex with them all day. After leaning over the sink, brushing my teeth and forcing my eyes to stay open, I stumbled down the stairs.
“Hey! Hey! Master look at my new chew toy!” the dog said while slobbering all over the kitchen floor.
“*sigh* I know, I bought it for you last week.”
I didn’t necessarily want to buy it for him but I made the mistake of bringing him with me to buy his food and he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. At the same time he was telling me about his toy, he was yelling at the squirrels taunting him from behind the safety of a glass door. Annoying little creatures they are, they just sit on their ass and make fun of people. “Hehehe, nice tie, not!” the one squirrel so cleverly declared. “Hehehe, yea, that tie looks stupid.” The other squirrel said over their symphony of chuckling. Ignoring them, I walked past the cat, who was sprawled out in front of the doorway. “Fill my food bowl, slave.”
“*sigh* what do you want to eat?”
 	“The finest Fancy Feast you have” I wasn’t listening, of course, I just grabbed whatever shit was on sale that week. “Ah yes, you live to serve me.”
Just shut up and go lick yourself, I thought.
I sat down at the table and ate my bowl of knock-off Cheerios, or Tasteeo’s, or whatever the fuck they’re called. Staring out my window, I watched the deer gallop from one part of the woods to another. Deer are such majestic creatures to look at but not so much to talk to. Then again, how intelligent could an animal who spends all day dodging the cars on I-81 really be?
7:30 AM: time to head to work. I made my way to the purple PT Cruiser parked in my driveway—a loaner car my insurance company gave me after I crashed my shitty ’91 Camaro because this fucking cricket jumped onto my windshield while I was going seventy-five on the highway and wouldn’t stop screaming. (For those of you that don’t know, muscle car manufacturers in the 90’s were all obsessed with being eco-friendly and economical; so I basically had a lowered station wagon with less doors.) While I was trying to knock him off with my windshield wiper, I swerved into a ditch. Sometimes I think back to the day we found the genie and can’t help but feel sorry for us. We were just kids, we didn’t think of the consequences. That genie was an asshole.
I made my way to work and parked in the same spot I had parked in the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. Except today, on the way to the door, I had an altercation with a group of skunks. I overheard one of the skunks tell his buddy that he was “totally gonna spray this asshole in the polo.” And my dumb ass decided to confront him about it.
“Yea? You’re gonna do what?” I said, trying to puff out my chest and be bigger than I actually was.
“I said I’m gonna spray you, asshat.” The argument didn’t last very long, as the second he turned around to lift his ass, I got mine in the building.
I walked up to my office on the fifth floor and settled into my chair, which is inclined in a way that’s slightly uncomfortable but not enough for me to actually do anything about it. I was only just settling into my chair when my fucking supervisor poked his nose into my cubicle.
“Hey, Al, could you get the Johnson files on my desk by 3?”
“The Johnson files? I’m not assigned to that, Murphy is.”
“Yeaaa, Murphy’s got a more important file to take care of. Soo I’m gonna need those files on my desk by three.”
“Yea, sure thing, Rick.”
Yup. Rick. That Rick (He got his mouth back shortly after the genie disappeared). He’s still around, and he’s still an asshole. He had passed out after the whole losing his mouth fiasco and chalked it up to me fucking with him whenever I tried to tell him what happened. Then, in high school, he started making fun of me for it. He got everybody to call me “the genie.” It sucked, but at the time, I accepted it, thinking that at least I’ll probably be more successful than this guy. Who would hire such an asshole? The company I work for, that’s who. I probably would have been as successful as him too, but it’s kind of hard to pay attention in class when every fly lingering near the windows can’t find its way out and is VERY VOCAL ABOUT IT.
As I allowed myself to be consumed into the excruciating monotony that is office work, while also trying to make it look like I give a damn about the company, Janice— that bitch— decided to show everybody her new goldfish that she just bought. “Isn’t it cute?” she claimed, un-ironically. “It’s so calming!” as if she were regurgitating a line from this article in People’s magazine that she skimmed over once. “I can’t wait to put him right here on my desk and show him how mommy does her job!” It took all of my willpower not to hang myself with my own tie. But, it’s not like I’m happy when I work anyway, so back to staring at my computer screen, wondering what the hell I’m doing with my life.
	Bump. “Ouch.” Bump. “Ouch.” Bump. “Ouch.” Can you guess what that was? Yup, the fucking goldfish couldn’t figure out that it’s in a $5 glass bowl and was ramming its head into it for FIVE HOURS. At least when a bird flies into my window it dies, this thing just kept going at it.
“Hey, would you shut the fuck up?” I blurted out, pretty loud.
“Excuse me?” Janice’s shrill voice pierced my ears. Shit.
Oh well, I thought to myself, might as well make the most of this opportunity.
“Would. You. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. About. Your. God. Damn. Fish.”
“Hey! That’s not very nice!” the goldfish squeaked.
“Shut up, nobody can hear you.”
“What are you talking about? Are you on drugs? S-step away from me, I know self-defense.” She pulled a can of mace out of her purse.
Yea, I’m sure your self-defense class at the Y would stop me if I really wanted to attack you, I thought.
“Hey, Al, buddy, can I see you in my office real quick?” Rick beckoned me, sticking his nose out past the doorway.
As I walked towards his office, I bumped the fishbowl, hoping it would fall, but it didn’t. Just my luck.
“Agh! Did you see that, Rick?” Even from a few yards away, her voice made me want to pop my eardrums.
“Hey Al, buddy, you okay? Something wrong?” even when he was trying to be nice, he still had that shit eating grin plastered on his face.
“Actually, I’ve been having a rough couple of days. And with the Johnson report…I don’t know, I’m pretty stressed.” Not to mention the fact that I haven’t got more than 4 hours of sleep for the past 15 god damn years. I hate to admit it, but I can’t shake the jealousy I had for Rick. Why couldn’t the genie have taken my mouth away and saved me from all of this bullshit?
“So, you’re saying you don’t think you’ll have the Johnson report done by 3? Look, Al, buddy, you’re my friend, but this company needs team players. I can’t be covering your ass every time you yell at a co-worker.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Look…buddy…I think it might be time for you to have a little change in scenery don’t you think?”
“Are you firing me?”
“I’ve been getting pressured from the higher-ups. You’re just not pulling enough weight for the company. I mean, Janice, she finished a $1.5 million report before the end of the second quarter. That’s the kind of can-do attitude we look for in our employees. I stuck my neck out for you and I’d do it again if I could, buddy, but I think we’re gonna have to let you go.”
“Really?!”
“Yea. I’m really sor-“
“Thank you! Thank you so much.”
“Huh?”
I poked my head out of Rick’s office and yelled “Fuck you Janice, fuck your goldfish, fuck your desk, fuck your job, fuck you.” I shook Rick’s hand and went to grab my things. On the way back from my desk, I smacked the goldfish bowl off the table. I wish I could do the same to Janice, but you gotta pick your battles. I got in my car and drove to the pet store and bought two the biggest bags of dog food I could buy. I got home, threw the bags of food into the kitchen and yelled to my cat and dog “Have fun with the rest of your lives, I’m outta here!”
“Wait! Al! We don’t have opposable thumbs, how are we suppo-“
The sound of my engine turning on drowned out their nagging voices. I hopped on the highway and went 90 towards the airport. Parking the Cruiser in a fire hydrant zone, I made my way to the ticket desk; I didn’t have a care in the world, especially not about this piece of shit. BAM slamming my credit card down on the table I said to the ticket lady “I want a coach ticket to the next available flight.”
She looked at me, with a bored and unimpressed face and said “Sir, it doesn’t work like that.”
“Fine, uhm, let me get a ticket for the next flight to Hawaii”
She let out a long sigh “Sir, your card was declined.”
“Oh.”
“Yea.”

title: [HM] The Ability to Speak With Animals

question: What does the story say about the type of person Ricky is?

answer: Ricky is a sore loser and also clogs the toilet without telling anybody. He is also impatient, as evidenced by his questions toward the genie. He is still an asshole as an adult. In high school, he made fun of the narrator.

question: What does the story say about the genie's origins?

question: What does the story say about the Al's unpleasant emotions?

answer: Al hates Ricky. The text describes the fifteen years following the incident with the genie as miserable. He is annoyed by the squirrels. He also hates Janice. He is jealous of Rick.


text: I look down at the crumpled dollar bill in my hand. It’s been in my wallet for probably a few weeks, smashed down to the bottom by credit cards, coins, and more. This dollar represents something. It represents anything in the world, that I can acquire for the cost of $1. Some people like to save dollars at home. Some people trust others to write down how many dollars they have and then lock them away in a big safe somewhere. I could probably find a way to use this dollar to make another dollar.. Two dollars. That would be a great plan except the amount of time/work it would take might not be worth it.. You know, the opportunity cost. I think the best way to use this dollar is to exchange it for something with immediate satisfaction, so I walk to the vending machine across the hall, most of the items on display are more than $1, but I spot a bag of chips at the top left that are $1. I put the dollar in the machine, it scans the dollar. I make my selection, but nothing happens. It seems the machine did not register my dollar. Now I have no dollar and nothing worth a dollar.

title: [NF] dollar bill

question: Who are the main characters of the story?

answer: The man who owns the $1.

question: What does the dollar represent?

answer: Anything in the world he can acquire for the cost of $1.

question: What happened to the dollar when the protagonist used it on a vending machine?

answer: The vending machine ate it.

question: From the protagonist's POV, what is the best way to use the dollar?

answer: Exchange it for something with immediate satisfaction.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: A man finds a long-forgotten $1 in his wallet and ponders what to do with it. After careful deliberation, he decides immediate satisfaction is the best way to use the $1 and uses it on a vending machine to buy chips. Upon inserting the dollar bill in the vending machine, nothing happens. He loses both his $1 and the chips (immediate satisfaction) he wanted to get.


text:
When President Donald Trump nominated Judge Brett Kavanaugh to replace Anthony Kennedy on the Supreme Court, I was thrilled. The judge has a resume that makes him unquestionably qualified to sit on the highest court in the land.

Further, I have found the attacks on him made by Democrats until now to be unfounded or pure spectacle made by politicians engaging in theatrics simply because they knew there were cameras on.

The sexual assault allegations by Christine Blasey Ford are different: After reading them, I can no longer support Kavanaugh’s nomination and have concluded that for the good of the country, he must withdraw.

[]

It might be impossible for a court of law, let alone the court of public opinion, to definitively determine the truth of what happened on that night in 1983, but Ford’s story is disturbing. She alleges that Kavanaugh, then 17, locked them both in a room with his friend Mark Judge, pinned her to a bed with the weight of his body and proceeded to attempt to remove her clothes while grinding against her. When she screamed, she says, he put his hand on her mouth to stifle her. It was not until Judge jumped on the two of them that she was able to escape and lock herself in a bathroom.

Both Kavanaugh and Judge have denied the allegations, the latter’s denial coming in an interview with The Weekly Standard on Friday and the former in an updated statement on Monday.

My inclination has alway been to believe women who are victims of sexual harassment and assault, but like other Republicans, the highly-politicized and partisan nature of a Supreme Court confirmation process certainly gave me pause before Ford's public statements. The fuller story demonstrates that there are some aspects of her story that lend great credence to this not being a partisan attack.

First are the 2012 notes kept by the Ford’s therapist, which show that she first made the allegation against Kavanuagh, who was not specifically named, in couples therapy at that time. As Caroline Court pointed out on Twitter, “The therapist notes are not a police report; the absence of any names is not the compelling response you think it is.” While the psychiatrist’s note lacks names, it is difficult to believe that Ford raised this in therapy six years ago as part of some master plan to stop Brett Kavanaugh’s Supreme Court nomination before Obama's re-election.

Further, Mark Judge’s own memoir, "Wasted: Tales of a Gen X Drunk," does not help Kavanaugh’s case. Instead, it paints a portrait of an environment rife with alcohol abuse and misbehavior. Kavanaugh is not directly mentioned in the book, but it does note that a character named “Bart O’Kavanaugh” took part in that aspect of Judge's teenage years, once apparently vomiting in the back of someone’s car and passing out. Yes, it talks about his experiences at an age where most of us engage in stupid behavior and excessive drinking, but it does not put Judge or Kavanaugh in a good light — especially since Ford said that both boys were "stumbling drunk" at the time of her alleged attack.

Some Republicans have pointed to the timing and circumstances of the release of Ford’s allegations to question their veracity. Their questions are valid and should be answered. Senator Feinstein, who first learned of this through a letter provided by Congresswoman Anna Eshoo, sat on Ford's accusations since July and did not raise them at the confirmation hearing. Ford had also contacted the Washington Post at that time, but ultimately had decided to stay silent, fearing the repercussions in her own life. It's unclear whether Feinstein sat on the letter at the behest of Ford, though its existence eventually leaked to the press after the hearings were complete and it was only last week that she referred a redacted copy of the letter to the FBI for inclusion in his background check file. Feinstein has some explaining to do.

But the political shenanigans around Kavanaugh's nomination do not give us a pass to take Ford’s allegation of attempted sexual assault lightly.

Judicial appointments are the area where I have, to this point, given the president the most praise and support, but many of those who still support this nomination and dismiss the sexual assault allegations are seeing their judgment clouded by the hyper-partisan nature of the entire confirmation process.

Trump could easily replace Kavanaugh with another nominee like Judge Amy Coney Barrett — who would thrill conservatives. Yes, Democrats would likely engage in the same ridiculous attacks of Barrett (or any other replacement), but the likelihood that that another nominee would be facing a sexual assault charge (particularly Barrett) is minimal and the public would not have a tainted view of whomever is confirmed.

This entire sad ordeal is reminiscent of a scene 27 years ago when Clarence Thomas was accused of sexual harassment by Anita Hill. While Americans were split on whether or not to believe Hill that Thomas sexually harassed her and he was ultimately confirmed, the accusations follow Thomas to this day — and Ford’s allegations will follow Kavanaugh, too.

Were the Senate to confirm Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court, a large portion of the American people would likely view him as illegitimate and challenge the validity of his appointment because of Ford’s accusations. Others, like me, would feel uncertain that his was a worthwhile appointment.

Such a situation is not healthy for our republic.

I am truly pained to say this, but Kavanaugh must put the integrity of the Supreme Court and its future rulings first, and withdraw his nomination. Trump can then replace him with a nominee with stellar credentials and no controversy.

question: Who did President Trump nominate to be a Supreme Court judge?

answer: Judge Brett Kavanaugh.

question: Who put the sexual assault allegations on Judge Kavanaugh?

answer: The allegations were made by Christine Blasey Ford.

question: What is Mark Judge's memoir titled?

answer: Wasted: Tales of a Gen X Drunk.

question: Who does the writer suggest as a replacement for Kavanaugh?

answer: The writer suggests Amy Coney Barrett.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer:
President Trump nominates Brett Kavanaugh to become a Supreme Court judge. However, the sexual assault allegations by Christine Ford make the writer oppose Kavanaugh's nomination.

A few Republicans have pointed to the timing of the release of Ford's allegations to question their correctness. The writer believes that Trump can easily replace Kavanaugh with another nominee like Judge Amy Barrett, who has a clean record.

If the Senate does confirm Kavanaugh's appointment, many Americans will likely view him as illegitimate due to Ford's accusations.