text:
**Haven't looked at this in a while. I'll be browsing other stories and commenting while people get a chance to look over it, like sidebar says to do**

The first pain I remember was my own. Then my father’s.

That first pain was more of a discomfort. I wasn’t in that much pain, my arms didn’t even hurt after—the first pain was hardly pain at all. He had me pinned up against a wall in the kitchen, a strong, caring, fatherly hand for each boyish arm, my legs dangled three feet from the floor and I was weightless like an astronaut, if astronauts were held by their fathers instead of microgravity.

His face was red, not the kind of red that is blood, the kind of red that is rage, the kind of rage that can persuade a loving, caring father to pin his gentle, youngest son, up against a wall, pressing him there while it boils, the kind of red that, if you realize what you’re doing, fades in an instant with shame and wide eyes, the kind of red that haunts, that is the haunting, that commands as much respect as it does terror.

But that wasn’t his pain. The pain was how he looked away, but not even that. The pain was when he didn’t look back, but not even that. The pain wasn’t even how his gentle, loving, forgiving, kind-hearted son didn’t care what his father had done, didn’t even pretend it hadn’t happened, but just wanted his father, wanted to one day have those same strong, caring, fatherly hands that had pinned him up against the wall, hands that made the gentle boy feel safe even when those hands were hurting him. That wasn’t his pain.

The pain happens because, when my father wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at all the times his red-faced old man had slammed him against a wall, left belt buckle welts on his adolescent frame, or laughed when he lost a bet with his brother about how long the bruises would be there, because when my father wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at himself, he was looking at how he had become the part of the man he loved that he hated, even if it just lasted a moment. That was his pain.

Then came another pain, a pain of mine, because even though my father never again became the red-faced old man he had hated, he never finished turning back into the father I loved. I guess that is the third pain that I remember and I guess it is my real pain, my first one doesn’t count.

Then, and this is chronological, it was my brother’s pain, which I did not understand at the time.. We were in the basement. He had rushed down the stairs so loud and so fast that I was shaking when he appeared, red-faced with swollen, watery eyes, older and bigger and stronger. He grabbed my arms and squeezed and told me to be crying like he was, he told me to be hurt and crying, then he threw me against a wall. I was going to tell him that being thrown hadn’t hurt, I didn’t, because he had collapsed into a fetal position on the floor, crying the way the men cry when they’ve had their legs blown off on Normandy beach and they don’t want to be men anymore, the way that another man might cry when he realizes that the first man has stopped crying. That was my brother’s pain. I didn’t understand it yet.

I left the basement when my mother came down to hold on to my brother, to comfort him while she could. I left the basement while my brother cried, up the stairs, in time to watch, through the kitchen window, a blue and red tarp disappear into our garage in the red hands of my father, as if the tarp could conceal its contents. My brother’s best friend would have been there before my mother even knew he was upset, I stand there looking through the kitchen window until my father is done washing off the blue tarp, washing off his hands, pretending that there had never been red, that my brother had never cried because my brother never cries. I understand it now, that he didn’t finish learning to love before he learned to hate.

Then, and this was years later, when I was eleven or twelve, when I was becoming a tall, strong man, I remember my sister’s pain. She is the oldest. Talking on her phone in the living room with all the lights off, I heard her before I saw her, crying like a man cries when he’s got nothing left but a chance to ask for help. And I heard both sides of the conversation because if she hadn’t had the phone on speaker, she wouldn’t have been able to hear the other person over that crying.
She asked if she should, and the voice said if that was what she wanted to do, then, do it.

But that wasn’t her pain. And anyway I’m sure I’m paraphrasing. I didn’t hear exactly. I asked my sister if she was okay and she screamed, go the fuck away, leave me alone. And she hung up. And she had screamed so loud that if the voice had said anything else, she couldn’t have possibly heard it. Maybe the voice had more to say, something helpful. Maybe the voice had changed its mind too late.
I turned right, up the stairs to my room, pretending I could run away from that scream and only getting further away from my sister. That scream, I remember. It is not her pain, but I remember, The scream and the thump, and I felt the thump before I heard it.

Then I heard my brother, in a clear, strong voice, reciting our address, confirming that he did not know how much she took, confirming that she was unresponsive. No, he does not know what types of medicine we have around the house. Yes, he would go look. I walked like a man who does not want to find what he is looking for and like a boy who is afraid to, out of my room, down the stairs, left, past the living room, left, into the kitchen, and there were little things all over the floor, little pills and little capsules of all kinds, everywhere, a kaleidoscope that I’m sure from the right angle could have shown us the pain that we never saw, the pain I don’t remember, I did not stop walking until I saw her feet, still, on the floor. My father was there, waiting to carry her out to the ambulance. It would only be a minute or two.

I turned around before he could look at me, right, into the closet by the living room to get a broom. I’ll sweep, I said. I waited, standing in the closet with my eyes scrunched up so tight, waiting until my father’s footsteps had passed behind me, pretending that those steps weren’t carrying the weight of our ignorance. I waited until the ambulance had come and gone, until my father had started the car and my brother called me a fucking asshole for not coming with them, until it was just me in that house, hearing the screams, listening to the absence of a man’s best friend, to a boy pretending. But in that house, the only sound was that of bristles on the floor while I swept up pain and all the little ways to get rid of it.

But that’s not the pain I remember. That pain was days later, because my sister wanted to see her brothers and my mother took us for a visit, and my mother said that somewhere behind all the machines, under all the little tubes and wires was my sister, but I heard her before I saw her, softer than a shadow can whisper, I’m sorry, exhaled from the place between two cracked lips, her yellow eyes looking up at me through slits in a pale face. That wasn’t the pain either.

It was when she realized that I didn’t believe her, that I didn’t even want to believe her, that I didn’t even try, that the only reason I had come to visit her was because our mother had made me, that under all the little tubes and wires and reasons, I did not see a sister. That’s the pain I remember.

My mother saw that pain, too, and even though it hurt her, that is not her pain. My mother’s pain is so easy to remember because it was the hardest to spot. It is so subtle, so definite, exhaustive. Her pain is different than her hurt.

I know it hurt her when she was yelled at by my older brother for trying to help and comfort her eldest son. That must have hurt her more than hearing him cry like a boy who had just witnessed firsthand his dog get hit by a car, more than watching a dog spit blood into a street, more than watching a dog almost die on impact from a Ford pickup.

It hurt my mother to find out over a phone call that her daughter had attempted suicide, how she might succeed, how her hardened, elder son called the ambulance while the younger one hid in a closet. It would hurt to see your daughter being kept alive by a machine. It would hurt to have to beg and bribe your youngest son to visit his sister in the hospital.

And even though she never found out about the only time my father ever got red, it hurt her to wonder what happened to her gentle, loving, caring son, and why his father won’t talk to him about it.
All of that hurt is obvious. But my mother’s pain isn’t some catastrophe. It’s not the blood, the machines, the crying, it’s not the pale faces, the screams, the whimpers. My mother is too strong for that.

 My mother’s pain is the silence. It is the countless times she has asked me if I needed or wanted anything, and I ignored her. It is the countless times she has asked my brother if he needed or wanted anything and he ignored her. It is the countless times she has asked my sister if she needed or wanted anything and she ignored her. It is the countless times she has asked her husband if he needed or wanted anything and he looked at her the way a man looks when he has nothing left but the will to not ask for help, then he would force a smile, no, he would say.

	I didn’t see it until one afternoon when my mother knocked on the door to my room while I was reading. I didn’t say anything. She opened the door enough to ask if I needed or wanted anything. I ignored her. She closed the door.
	An hour later I realize that I hadn’t eaten yet that day. I open my door and walk down the stairs. Left, past the living room. Left, into the kitchen. I walked until I saw a cold plate on the counter with a cold turkey sandwich in the middle.

Then, through the kitchen window, I saw my mother with swollen, watery eyes, walking out of the garage. I collapsed onto the floor and wept.

title: [RF] How to Teach a Boy to Feel Pain like a Man

question: What does the text say about the narrator's pain?

answer: First, the narrator felt discomfort when his father physically hurt him as a child, but his real pain is that his father never finishes turning back into the father that he loves.

question: What does the text say about the narrator's mother's pain?

answer: The narrator's mother's pain is when her husband and children ignore her. The narrator found out about her mother's pain when he caught her crying after he ignored her when she asked if he had eaten.

question: What does the text say about the father's pain?

answer: The narrator's father's pain is when he remembers the time his father physically abused him as a child and realizes he has become like his father, whom he hated.

question: What does the text say about how the family healed from their pain?


split: test

text:
UNIVERSITY PARK, Pa. — Relaxing is supposed to be good for the body and soul, but people with anxiety may actively resist relaxation and continue worrying to avoid a large jump in anxiety if something bad does happen, according to Penn State research.

In a new study, the researchers found that people who were more sensitive to shifts in negative emotion — quickly moving from a relaxed state to one of fear, for example — were more likely to feel anxious while being led through relaxation exercises.

Michelle Newman, professor of psychology, said the results could help benefit people who experience “relaxation-induced anxiety,” a phenomenon that occurs when people actually become more anxious during relaxation training.

“People may be staying anxious to prevent a large shift in anxiety, but it’s actually healthier to let yourself experience those shifts,” Newman said. “The more you do it, the more you realize you can do it and it’s better to allow yourself to be relaxed at times. Mindfulness training and other interventions can help people let go and live in the moment.”

Hanjoo Kim, a graduate student in psychology, said the study also sheds light on why relaxation treatments designed to help people feel better can potentially cause more anxiety.

“People who are more vulnerable to relaxation-induced anxiety are often the ones with anxiety disorders who may need relaxation more than others,” Kim said. “And of course, these relaxation techniques were meant to help, not make someone more anxious. Our findings will hopefully serve as a cornerstone for providing better care for these populations.”

Newman said that while researchers have known about relaxation-induced anxiety since the 1980s, the specific cause of this phenomenon has remained unknown. When Newman developed the contrast avoidance theory in 2011, she thought the two concepts might be connected.

“The theory revolves around the idea that people may make themselves anxious intentionally as a way to avoid the letdown they might get if something bad were to happen,” Newman said. “This isn’t actually helpful and just makes you more miserable. But, because most of the things we worry about don’t end up happening, what’s reinforced in the brain is, ‘I worried and it didn’t happen so I should continue worrying.’”

For this study, the researchers recruited 96 college students. Participants included 32 people with generalized anxiety disorder, 34 people with major depressive disorder and 30 controls with neither disorder.

When the participants arrived at the lab, the researchers led them through relaxation exercises before having them watch videos that may elicit fear or sadness. The participants then answered a list of questions designed to measure how sensitive they were to changes in their emotional state. For example, some people may be uncomfortable with the negative emotions incited by the videos right after relaxing, while others might find the relaxation session helpful in dealing with those emotions.

Next, the researchers led the participants through a relaxation session once more before having them fill out a second survey. These questions were designed to measure the participants’ anxiety during the second relaxation session.

After analyzing the data, the researchers found that people with generalized anxiety disorder were more likely to be sensitive to sharp spikes in emotion, like going from feeling relaxed to feeling scared or stressed. Additionally, this sensitivity was linked to feeling anxious during sessions intended to induce relaxation.

The researchers found similar results in people with major depressive disorder, although the effect wasn’t as strong.

Kim said he hopes the results — recently published in the Journal of Affective Disorders — may help clinicians provide better care for people with anxiety.

“Measuring relaxation-induced anxiety and implementing exposure techniques targeting the desensitization of negative contrast sensitivity may help patients reduce this anxiety,” Kim said. “Also, it would be important to examine relaxation-induced anxiety in other disorders, such as panic disorder and persistent mild depression.”

question: Summarize the process by which the relaxation-induced anxiety research was carried out.

answer: There were 96 people present for the research - 32 with generalized anxiety disorder, 34 with major depressive disorder, and 30 people with neither. The researchers first led the participants through relaxation exercises and then made them watch fear or sadness-inducing videos. The participants then answered questions designed to measure how sensitive they were to changes in their emotional state. Finally, the researchers took the participants through a relaxation exercise once more before asking more questions about how anxious they felt during the second relaxation exercise.

question: How do you cure relaxation-induced anxiety?


text:
It was late in September 1974, and snow already threatened Winnipeg. I knew no one, so I   checked into the YMCA, secured a job as a gas pump attendant, and with that security rented an apartment on River Avenue. I had accumulated a small amount of cash working for the Hudson's Bay Company in Eskimo Point, N.W.T., even though I was paid minimum wage for a year. But, of course, you don’t spend too much money in the sub-arctic – just bullets and hunting supplies. With my new found wealth I purchased a faded blue Ford Custom, a burly beast of an automobile that looked as though it had once been a cop car. The power of its engine was of little concern to me – I was more thrilled it had a radio that actually worked. I unimaginatively christened her Winnie.

Winnie was also appreciated by my two new buddies, Larry, who I had met at the YMCA and who now shared the apartment with me, and Pete, who had also come across from England to work for the Hbc, and had, coincidentally, quit the Company at the same time. The three of us were restless. I had just heard that my brother and his wife in Nova Scotia had become parents for the first time. It was also getting close to Christmas. So we quit our casual jobs and planned to drive to the east coast and see my brother and his new born for the holidays – two thousand miles across the continent. I had never driven in ice and snow before.

The night before our departure two street wise characters that lived on the floor above us in the River Street apartment approached us with an offer. They had “acquired” numerous cases of frozen Cornish hens that, as the Brits would say, “Had fallen off the back of a lorry”.  Their living room was stacked with them floor to ceiling, and melting fast.  Did we want to buy a couple of cases? They were cheap. And so we bought three cases (about seventy two hens) and cooked the birds in numerous shifts overnight so we would have food for the road without stopping or spending our limited cash. We sub-let the apartment to a mutual friend who also looked after the rest of our personal possessions.  We filled the car with bags of cooked hens, pickled onions and doughnuts (I don’t know why we had pickled onions and doughnuts but we did.) The trunk was packed with one suitcase each and three milk crates full of my vinyl records. They were more important than extra clothes. We headed south to the border crossing at Grand Forks, North Dakota as Larry, being the only Canadian thought it a good idea to go south of the Great Lakes in winter.

Our first trouble occurred at the American border. The immigration guards asked for our passports, our business and our destination.  Pete and I had our UK documents, but Larry only had his Canadian driver’s license, which in those days was enough to get you across the border. We must have appeared a strange group of individuals: two Englishmen fresh from the Canadian wilderness, and a slightly older Canadian, on a carefree journey across North America in the middle of winter. They processed our names through their computers. A couple of minutes later they asked Larry to step out of the car and come into the office. A guard then asked me to pull the car over to the side of the road so they could search it. Something big was going on. While the officer started to go through the car with its bags of cooked Cornish hens, chicken bones, suitcases, and my collection of records we could see Larry being grilled in the office. The guards found nothing stronger than pickled onions and resonant farts. After about forty five minutes they let us go. I think they were disappointed. Not too much to do at the North Dakota border crossing three days before Christmas.

Back on the road Larry told us what had happened. During a stay at the Y.M.C.A. in Winnipeg a fellow traveler from Jamaica, that Larry had befriended,  had “borrowed” his passport (unbeknownst to him) to go to Detroit to visit a relative. He naively got as far as the border, proudly pulled out on the Canadian passport, but of course his skin colour was black and Larry’s was white. Hello!!! There was now a red flag against Larry’s name on immigration records. As for Larry, he had wondered what had happened to his passport. Now he knew. He thought he would get around to replacing it when he was heading somewhere exotic, not Grand Forks!

The three of us took shifts: one would drive, one would navigate, and one would sleep. We didn’t stop. As each hour went by the bags of Cornish hens became smaller and smaller, as did the jar of pickled onions. The smell in the car was more than ripe, but we were having fun. As we drove through the night and the snow we continually flipped the dial on the car radio for the elusive local music stations and hopefully some good tunes. We would sing along to such repeated hits as “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” by Elton John, “I Can Help” by Billy Swan, and the most played song of all “Mandy” by Barry Manilow. We howled the chorus at the top of our lungs like drunken hockey players on a Saturday night binge as the Ford Custom sped through the silent darkness of backwoods America.

During my shift of sleep in the back seat I was suddenly disturbed by a huge jolt. I awoke groggily to find that the right side of the car had tilted into a snow covered ditch. Larry had pulled over in the darkness to change drivers not realizing that a trough, full of fresh snow, ran parallel to the dark road. He had pulled over too far and now one side of the car was tilted into a snow filled ditch. We were stuck in the middle of nowhere. There was not a house, a light, a car to be seen. It was two o’clock in the morning. As we gunned the engine the back wheel just spun and spun in the fresh snow. We ventured into the nearby woods and gathered up pine branches, and wedged them under the tires in a hope for some traction but it was no good. We were hopelessly stranded. It was cold, dark, snowing, and we had only the vaguest idea where we were on the map.

After what seemed like forever we could see the amber flashing lights of a snow grater coming towards us. Relief! We waved down the driver, explained the situation, and
asked for help. Could he pull us out? That was against regulations, he said. He then asked us where we were going. Nova Scotia we told him. He laughed heartily, commented on how crazy we were, got down from his cab, hitched a chain from his vehicle to ours and pulled us out. We thanked him with as much gratitude as we could muster. “Good luck,” he said. “You’re going to need it,” and drove off in the opposite direction. We were on our way again, but our troubles were not over. I was now driving and noticed that the gas tank was almost empty. We kept going, praying that we would find a gas station still open in the middle of the night. A couple of miles down the road we did find one, isolated and lonely, but it was closed. We pulled in. The worst case scenario was that we would stay there till morning and wait for it to open – provided we were still alive and didn’t freeze in our sleep. It appeared the owner of the station lived upstairs. So we knocked on the door of the business as loud as we could. A voice bellowed out from an upstairs window: “Whose there? What do you want?” In thick English accents we told him we were tourists on a driving holiday working our way to Nova Scotia. It worked. The owner, bless him, came down in his pajamas, with his parka on top, opened the pumps, filled the tank, and told us we were crazy. Second time in about an hour that phrase had come up. Maybe we were. We paid him, gave him a big tip, and thanked him very much. We were off again. But our troubles were not over. By morning we were speeding down the highway heading into Detroit. Larry was driving. We were making good time anxious to get to my brother’s place by Christmas. There was a turn off towards the motor city that we had to negotiate. As we rounded the curve we hit black ice. The car suddenly started to do multiple 360s. We were spinning out of control.  We must have done a half dozen “doughnuts”. It was terrifying. There was nothing we could do. Luckily, there were few cars about and we came to rest on the highway margin. No damage except to our nerves. After that we were extremely cautions not only with our speed, but we filled up whenever the needle on the gas tank indicator pointed to half full.

We crossed the border back into Canada. After a few hours sleep and a snack, Pete, Larry and I (plus the remaining Cornish Hens) were back on the Trans Canada Highway bound for the Maritimes. We made it through the confusion of the Montreal road system, the snow of New Brunswick, and eventually to the famous port city of Halifax Nova Scotia. I remembered that my brother lived about twenty miles along the coast in a place called Boutlier’s Point. A number of helpful locals gave us directions and we made it to the village. There was a Red and White store still open and went in and asked if the owners knew my brother. They did!  (Oh, the joys of a small community.) And they allowed us to use the phone in the store to call him. He drove up to meet us and we followed him back to his house. It was Christmas Eve. We had made it. The Cornish hens and the pickled onions were devoured. The car was smelly. So were we. But we had arrived safely and it was a thrill to see my brother, his wife and their new born at such a wonderful time of the year.

Early in January 1975 we put all our stuff back in the trunk of the car and headed west. The weather was now extremely bad. It was dark. The falling snow hypnotized us, illuminated in the beams of our headlights. The windscreen wipers swished back and forth non-stop. At one point the car was not handling well and I commented that the roads must be icy. There were no other vehicles around so I stopped in the middle of the road, opened the door to check how bad conditions were, took one step outside, and landed flat on my back. The road could have doubled as an ice rink. I got back in the driver’s seat and proceeded cautiously. We were thankful to eventually get back on the Trans Canada which had been salted. There were few cars around (people were sensible and staying home), but lots of trucks. While we poodled along at a slow speed the trucks, whose drivers seemed to ignore the conditions, overtook us and as they did so they sprayed brown slush all over the windshield. You couldn’t see anything. The wipers were furiously working at top speed to clear the muck, but for a number of seconds we had no idea what was in front of us. I held on to the steering wheel and prayed there was nothing in front.

We arrived in Winnipeg in early January just before an intense winter storm hit the city. You could see the dark clouds gathering on the horizon like a cancerous tumor on an X-ray. We were welcomed to stay at our old apartment by our friend until the storm blew over, and that was a lucky thing because it turned into an event of historical proportions. It snowed for two days non-stop. The city was shut down. The only vehicles on Portage Avenue were skidoos. It was as if the arctic had followed me south. We were restricted to the apartment just like I had been in the staff house at Eskimo Point. The rock station on the FM radio broadcast emergency messages for those people that were desperate for medicine or food. It was during this dark period that Pete decided he would re-join the Hudson’s Bay Company. His ninety day grace period that the company allowed him was almost up, and as the deadline approached he gave serious thought to his future (unlike Larry and I).  After the storm passed we once again packed Winnie’s trunk with the suitcases and the milk crates of records. With some sadness we said goodbye to Pete who headed north to Red Sucker Lake and a career that would last twenty years as a Hudson’s Bay manager. Larry and I drove west with the radio on one more time following the bright, unseen star of adventure.

title: [AA} Three Unwise Men

question: Summarize significant events faced by the narrator and his friends on their journey to Nova Scotia.

answer:
In the winter of 1974, the narrator bought a blue Ford Custom car he christened Winnie. Together with his friends, they decided to visit the narrator's brother who lived in Nova Scotia with his wife who had just given birth. They planned to get to Nova Scotia before Christmans - the journey was around 2000 miles.
The travelers set on and before long face their first trouble at the American border. Unfortunately, it seems one of the friends has, in the past, had his passport stolen and used to cross the border. This raised a red flag on the system, hence the group of friends had to be detained for a thorough search. Finding nothing, the customs officers let them go.
Another incident happened one morning when the travelers woke up to find their car tilting into a snow-covered ditch. They fetch some wood and wedged them under the tires to prevent the car from falling in. In the meantime, they tried to stop oncoming cars to ask for help but none was able to help them. It was cold, dark and the group was getting desperate. After a long while, a snow grater pulled up and helped them get the car out of the ditch.
Deep into the journey, the car was running out of gas in the middle of the night. They found an isolated gas station but the group was unwilling to wait until morning in case they sleep and freeze to death. Fortunately, the owner of the station lived upstairs of the building and the friends had to persuade him to come downstairs and sell gas to them. The man grudgingly agreed. They thanked him and gave him a huge tip.

question: Has any of the narrator's friends ever met his older brother before they undertook the journey to see him and his wife?


text:
"My lungs burn, and my heart pounds as death itself bites at my ankles. I should be dead right now. Why aren’t I? Oh right, I’m none other than Cordella Motorian, of course. Universally famous explorer, voyager, expeditionist, however you want to dress it up. And this is nothing but another one of my adventures.

Now let’s cut to the chase. (Pun intended.) At this point I’m beginning to regret stealing all that treasure from the natives. Four muscular men sporting grass skirts and head-dresses continue to pursue me through the thick, tropical forest. Sweat beads down my forehead, my traditional leather jacket and cargo pants wasn’t exactly a fit choice for the weather. Still, I leap over root after root, slice vine after vine, desperately needing a way out of this. If I don’t find bullets for my revolver, I’m done for. After what must be a couple miles of running, I have some distance between me and the natives. But they’ll be caught up any moment.

Thinking fast, I grab a few vines and tie together a thick rope. I tightly tie it around a nearby boulder, and begin climbing a thick tree, shaped like a Y. With a little struggle, I use the notch in the tree, pulling the vine to hoist the boulder into the air. I’ve successfully created a makeshift pulley, with time to spare. I jump off of the tree, still holding the vine, and knot the end to a stump. The men’s chants and cries get closer, and I can hear their footsteps stomping through the soil.  After a silent countdown in my head, my knife comes down on the vine, and with a crash, three of four men are crushed underneath the boulder.

The last comes charging forward. After sheathing my knife, I’m ready for a confrontation. He seems to be unfazed by the death of his three friends, surprisingly. I was hoping on that, my plan was to catch him by surprise, but no matter. He lunges his spear forward, and I send it downwards with a high kick, quickly following up with a punch to the face. He doesn’t even flinch. His spear comes slicing again, and I have to jump backwards to avoid my throat being cut open. Odd, these natives usually have more honor than to go for a cheap shot like the throat. Guess he was a little more mad about his friends than I thought.

He throws away his spear and draws a machete previously sheathed in the back of his skirt. We begin a dance, him mirroring every one of my steps, standing low to the ground like a snare waiting for prey. I’m scanning every possible opportunity for a strike, with my fists at the ready in front of my chest. He gets impatient and slices for my neck again. I duck, and land a slice on the side of his torso, to which he responds with a low growl. He throws a hit with the butt of his machete, which I block with my forearm, and I go for a stab in the chest. But now he’s faked me out, and he draws a smaller knife from his hip, and swiftly sticks the blade through--"

“Hey! Get yer head out of that book, Elizabeth. Ya oughta know better by now.”, Otto scolds, knocking one of my favourite of Cordella Motorian’s books out of my hands. “And if yer gonna read in my shop, read something, I dunno, not written by a shameless fraud. Mr. Hallmond wants his bike fixed by Monday, by th’ way.”

Begrudgingly, I stand out of my seat, and walk over to my workbench. Working for Otto in Nimbia City’s repair shop isn’t challenging work, but it’s still tedious. This has to be the sixth time Hallmond has busted his bike, all the same problem. A manufacturing bug, of the Headland Solstice Propeller Bike, where the rudder would get stuck every so often. These things were recalled years ago, but Hallmond’s too cheap to buy a new one. It’s got a ton of other problems too, his rusty chains, the warped propellors, but I don’t get paid for that. The real reason I even work here is Otto himself.

It’s not as if he needs the extra hand, he’s pretty well capable for his age. He’s a short, round old man, but strong as an ox. Kinda looks like one too. I wouldn’t even call him my boss, more like a less professional babysitter. My parents hire him to build the famous inventions they design, and I’m stuck around to watch. So he puts me to work.

I tighten up the screws, and fix up a couple of other problems, and Mr. Hallmond’s bike is ready two days early. I call out to Otto, “You know, we should just teach Mr. Hallmond to fix his own bike, eh?”. “Oh no, no, no. Sell a man a fish, he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, and ya just ruined a perfect business opportunity.”, he calls back. That’s the kind of stuff I love Otto for, he’s stock full of pseudo-wisdom, I could listen to him for hours.
“I was talking to yer mother earlier.”, Otto says, coming over to talk to me.

“That’s unfortunate.”, I mutter.

“She wants ya to come along for dinner with Captain Samuels, of the Royal Guard? Ya know the one.”, he responds, clearly not liking the fact himself. “Talk ta her later, I don’t know th’ details.”.

An alarm goes off in the back, marking the end of my shift. “Well, pleasure to see you as always, Otto, but I’ll be off.”, I say, slipping on my beaten-up leather jacket. He silently dismisses me with an absent minded wave. I clock out, as the repair shops’ garage doors open. Sunlight strikes my eyelids, leaving a stinging pain after hours at the workbench, er, the desk where I read. I slip my flight goggles off of the top of my untidy blonde hair, and onto my eyes and step out into the Sky City of Nimbia.

A perplexing city of huge bronze skyscrapers, suspended in the air with a combination of jets and propellers, rotating at amazing speeds. It might seem like a tangled mess of steel bridges, connecting building after building, but the city actually forms a perfect hexagon. Virgus Tower, home of parliament, visible from almost anywhere in the city,  marks the exact center of the city. Though we’re not unique. We’re one of many Sky Cities, such as Cirria, Cumula, and-- Well, you get the point.

Nimbia floats above Tirus Forest, which is in fact, the setting of Cordella’s book “The Tirus Tyrant”, the one I was reading in the shop. Spoiler: She gets hauled back to the Native’s camp, where she escapes and makes off with even more treasure. Genius, I know. Cordella’s something of an idol to me, if you hadn’t noticed. Running off, and living on the surface? Yeah, that’s always been a fantasy of mine. Steal treasure from whoever I wanted. Instead, I’m stuck up here, repairing Mr. Hallmond’s bike every week, having parents that couldn’t care less what I do, (unless it involves anything I like, of course). But I’m getting off track.

I stick my keys into the ignition of my plane, and hear the familiar sound of the propeller starting to spin. This biplane was a gift from Otto, the first thing he ever taught me to fix. He wanted to start from the most complex, and work down. Some more wisdom, I guess. This thing’s packed with the most powerful engine on the market, top of the line wings, and topped off with two red leather seats and a kicking stereo. Otto originally wanted to put a turret in the back seat, but my Mother wouldn’t have it. But still, my plane is what makes the work all worth it.

Wind forces my hair behind me, as I soar around the city. No boundaries, no limits but the sky itself. Here, I’m free to do what I want. Before I’m in the air for nearly enough time for my own liking, I arrive home.

After parking in a nearby hangar, I take the elevator up to my room. Presidential suite of Horus Hotel, a building owned by my parents. Did I mention they have buckets of money? Well, they move around a lot, so I’m left in this building. Easier than buying me my own place, right? I’m exhausted, so I flop onto my bed, and stick my face in another book. Cordella Motorian and The Desert Destroyer. I don’t particularly like this one, she spends too much time describing almost starving to death, walking 50 miles of sand. Not enough action in my opinion. She eventually gets around to a battle with a rogue miner, who steals a bunch of equipment and threatens to destroy his whole facility. You can’t really blame her for not enough action though, because all her books are taken from personal experience. Asking her for more action is asking her to lie.

The sound of high heels daintily stomps down the hallway, and my Mother storms in. She begins to yell at me, and immediately I tune out. Probably nagging about Otto’s daily report, and I catch her mentioning the grease stains on my face. I’ve been told I have an attractive face, but I don’t really care. I’m just your standard bushy blonde hair, brown eyed, freckled girl. I snap out of my daze, and Mom’s pulling a fancy blue dress out of my closet, nothing compared to what she’s wearing. She apparently wants me to wear this blue one for dinner tomorrow night, with that captain fellow.

She continues lecturing me, “The Captain wants your father and I to design some new weaponry for the Guard, mainly planes and other vehicles. We’ll be discussing this over dinner tomorrow night. So, when you get back from work, you’re going to wash all the dirt I know is going to be on your face. Then you’ll wear this, Sue designed it specifically for this dinner.. This is something big for us, and you’re not going to mess this one up. You remember what happened with Vice President Bloom? None of that. Now get some sleep.”.

She walks out, probably going to go work some more with my Dad. I can’t believe her, this dress is probably the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. All filled with frilly flowers and curves. Probably goes down to my ankles too.  Why do I even have to go to this thing? Wouldn’t they be better off without me? I mean, with Bloom, he left that night with a broken arm. Um, that’s a long story.

Well, I oughta know better by now. This is usually how it is, and I don’t think it’s going to change anytime soon. Unless some miracle falls out of the sky, I’m going to keep on repairing Hallmond’s bike every week, and getting pushed around by my parents.

I like to keep low expectations on these things, that way no matter what, everything’s a surprise.

title: Hi there, I'm also a thirteen year old writer, just looking for some feedback. I'm not even sure what to call this, whether it's a short story or not. But here's the first chapter.

question: Summarize the relationship between Cordella and Elizabeth.

answer: Elizabeth is the protagonist who enjoys reading the adventures of Cordella in her books. Elizabeth idolizes her and longs to be like her, living on the surface and stealing treasure from native populations.

question: What does the story say about justice?


text:
BETHLEHEM ACADEMY, also known as B.A., is a private, Roman Catholic high school for grades six through twelve located in Faribault, Minnesota. It is part of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Saint Paul and Minneapolis and is sponsored by the Sinsinawa Dominican Congregation of the Most Holy Rosary.[1] Bethlehem Academy is commonly recognized for its volleyball team which has made eleven state tournament appearances since 2002 and won the Class A State Championship title seven times.

Academics

Bethlehem Academy's class offerings include those within the following subjects: English, science, math, social studies, theology, fine arts and industrial technology, physical education/health, and world language. B.A. operates on a semester basis with an unweighted and unranked grade point system. Because of Bethlehem Academy's Catholic tradition, the academic curriculum mandates theology classes at every grade level. The class schedule is altered for the all-school weekly Mass days. Its “block” class schedule implements core classes that are held each day with electives held on a rotational basis. The school is not required by law to complete state testing but rather implements its own form of standardized testing: the ACT series. Made up of three tests, each completed at different grade levels, the series of testing aims to prepare students for the national college entrance ACT exam and serve as a guide to uncover areas of institutional academic need.[2]

Grading System

-   A (4.000)

94-100

-   A- (3.667)

90-93

-   B+ (3.333)

87-89

-   B (3.000)

83-86

-   B- (2.667)

80-82

-   C+ (2.333)

77-79

-   C (2.000)

73-76

-   C- (1.667)

70-72

-   D+ (1.333)

67-69

-   D (1.000)

63-66

-   D- (0.667)

60-62

-   F (0.000)

59 & below[3]

Athletics

Like the volleyball team, the golf, girls basketball, and football team have also made state tournament appearances. In 2008, the Bethlehem Academy golf team took third place in the Class A State Championships. Those team members included Adam Donahue, Dayne Paro, Jason Knoff, Eric Hagen, Grant Wayland, and Nick Murray. Grant Wayland, who also played in the 2007 golf state championships, earned the Class A State Individual Champion title in 2008.[4]

The girls basketball team made brief appearances at the state tournament in both 1998 and 2013.[5]

Lastly, the varsity football team was back-to-back Section 1A champs in 2012 and 2013. In 2012, they were the Minnesota Class A State Runner up, losing 14-20 to Mahnomen High School in Prep Bowl XXXI. In 2013 they lost to the Mahnomen Indians 19-0 in the State Semifinals. In 2015 the Cardinals won Section 2A and were then defeated by the Goodhue Wildcats in the state quarterfinals. In 2017 the Cardinals won section 2A and were then defeated by the Wabasso Rabbits in the state quarterfinals.[6][7]

FOOTBALL

-   Section Titles: 2012, 2013, 2015, 2017
-   State Semifinalist: 2013
-   State Runner-Up: 2012

Volleyball

The varsity girls volleyball team has made eleven appearances at the Minnesota State High School Volleyball Championship Tournament at the Xcel Energy Center since 2002. The B.A. Cardinals volleyball team was Class A state runner-up in 2002, 2004, 2006, and 2008. They have won the Class A State Championship title in 2003, 2005, 2007, 2009, 2011, 2012, and 2014.[8] Several girls have been named to the All-State team since they have been playing at the state tournament and one, Betty Slinger, was even named Minnesota Ms. Volleyball and Gatorade Player of the Year in 2003.[9] The team has also been awarded for its outstanding academic achievements and player GPA averages. Most recently, in 2014, the Cardinals were awarded the Gold level of the MSHSL Academic Team award with an average GPA of 3.82.[10] The head coach of the team, Franz Boelter, has received many accolades for his coaching achievements. In 2008, Franz was nominated to the Minnesota Volleyball Coaches Association (MNVBCA) Hall of Fame, has received several Minnesota Coach of the Year awards, and has earned a spot on the Win Club 500.[11][12][13]

School Song

We're loyal to you, oh B.A.

We're faithful and true, oh B.A.

We'll back you to stand, you're the best in the land, for we think you are grand, oh B.A. - RAH! RAH!

Keep your hand on the ball, Bethlehem.

Oh Yeah

Go fighting ahead and we'll win.

Our team's truth and loyalty will bring us to victory for our Academy!

(proceeding verse not sung at sporting events)

Oh B.A. we'll show them our speed.

A few points is just what we need.

We'll cheer you right through - it's the best we can do, for it's all up to you, oh B.A. - RAH! RAH!

Keep your hand on the ball, Bethlehem.

Go fighting ahead and we'll win.

Our team's truth and loyalty will bring us to victory for our Academy!

RACK 'EM UP, STACK 'EM UP - LET'S GO![14]

Sports Offered

The following is a list of sports available to the Bethlehem Academy student body. These sports teams are exclusively made up of students from Bethlehem Academy:

-   Girls Volleyball
-   Football
-   Boys Basketball
-   Girls Basketball
-   Baseball
-   Girls Fastpitch Softball
-   Boys Golf
-   Girls Golf
-   Cheerleading
-   Boys Track & Field
-   Girls Track & Field

_The following sports are only available to B.A. students through co-op teams with Faribault Public Schools:_

-   Boys Cross-Country Run
-   Girls Cross-Country Run
-   Boys Soccer
-   Girls Soccer
-   Boys Tennis
-   Girls Tennis
-   Boys Swimming & Diving
-   Girls Swimming & Diving
-   Boys Hockey
-   Girls Hockey
-   Men's Wrestling
-   Girls Gymnastics
-   Girls Jazz Dance Team
-   Girls High Kick Dance Team

Programs

One-to-One Laptop Program

Bethlehem Academy is well known in the Faribault area community for being a leading pioneer in incorporating technology in school curriculum. B.A. provides a personal Apple computer to every student and faculty member. Pre-scheduled usage periods and access limits can be programmed into the laptops by the technology administration department and is offered to parents of middle school students. Access privileges can also be revoked or modified for any student as a probationary condition or disciplinary consequence. The school also offers multimedia and film classes which utilizes the computer software programs and develop the student's computer skills.[15]

Middle School “School Within a School”

With its own “middle school team” of teachers who focus on middle school grade level curriculum, Bethlehem Academy's middle school aims to expose students in grades 6-8 to the core academic areas. The middle school core classes are: theology, English, social studies, science and math. All students in the middle school program additionally take music and physical education classes. Upon entering high school, every middle school student will have participated in interdisciplinary projects developed by the “middle school team” faculty members. These projects are designed to apply multiple different areas of academia to the project solution.[16]

College in the Schools (CIS)

In partnership with the University of Minnesota, B.A. students in the 11th and 12th grade have the opportunity to earn college credits by taking college courses taught at Bethlehem Academy by accredited B.A. faculty members; however, students wanting to take these courses must meet certain GPA requirements and pay a course fee, comparably lower to that of the college's tuition rate. Courses offered include a semester long U.S. History course equalling 3 college credits, and yearlong 4 credit courses Essentials of Anatomy and Physiology and Calculus.[17]

Student Activities

Students can participate in a number of extra-curricular activities, clubs, and associations. In addition to the number of sports B.A. students can choose to participate in, students can choose to contribute to the Bethlehem Academy “Star” newspaper as well as the “Veritas” yearbook by joining each's corresponding editing clubs. They may also participate in the theatre program. Every year, the Bethlehem Academy student body holds elections to vote students onto the two branches of B.A.’s student council. Additionally, Bethlehem Academy offers chapters of Students Against Destructive Decisions (S.A.D.D.), Key Club, and National Honor Society. B.A. also collaborates with the area schools’ extra-curricular programs so students can participate in a wider array of activities.[18]

[1] Sinsinawa Dominican Sisters website http://www.sinsinawa.org/

[2] Academics on 2013-2014 School Profile http://www.bacards.org/files/_xaHy3_/c3fd13e5464b72573745a49013852ec4/Profile_2013-14_Final.pdf

[3] Grading System on 2013-2014 School Profile http://www.bacards.org/files/_xaHy3_/c3fd13e5464b72573745a49013852ec4/Profile_2013-14_Final.pdf

[4] MSHSL School Profile News http://www.mshsl.org/mshsl/shownews.asp?page=school&school=46&item=18594

[5] MSHSL 2013 Girls State Basketball News Release http://www.mshsl.org/mshsl/sports/13_GBBRelease.pdf

[6] MSHSL School Profile News http://www.mshsl.org/mshsl/schoolpage2.asp?school=46

[7] http://www.minnesota-scores.net

[8] Bethlehem Academy Volleyball Page on School website http://www.bacards.org/pages/Bethlehem_Academy/Departments___Programs/Athletics/Volleyball

[9] MSHSL School Profile News http://www.mshsl.org/mshsl/shownews.asp?page=school&school=46&item=24604

[10] Minnesota Volleyball Coaches Association Academic Teams page http://www.mnvbca.org/academic-teams.html

[11] Minnesota Volleyball Coaches Association Hall of Fame Page http://www.mnvbca.org/hall-of-fame.html

[12] Minnesota Volleyball Coaches Association Coach of the Year Page http://www.mnvbca.org/coach-of-the-year.html

[13] Minnesota Volleyball Coaches Association Win Club 500 Page http://www.mnvbca.org/win-club-500.html

[14] Bethlehem Academy School Song page on School website http://www.bacards.org/pages/Bethlehem_Academy/About_Us/School_Song

[15] Laptop Program page on School Website http://www.bacards.org/pages/Bethlehem_Academy/Laptop_Program

[16] Middle School Program on 2013-2014 School Profile http://www.bacards.org/files/_xaHy3_/c3fd13e5464b72573745a49013852ec4/Profile_2013-14_Final.pdf

[17] College in the Schools Page on School website http://www.bacards.org/pages/Bethlehem_Academy/About_Us/College_in_the_Schools

[18] Student Activities Page on School Website http://www.bacards.org/pages/Bethlehem_Academy/Activities

title: Bethlehem Academy (Faribault, Minnesota)

question: What is the One-to-One Laptop Program?

answer: Bethlehem Academy is well known for being a leading pioneer in incorporating technology in school curriculum. The school provides a personal Apple computer to every student and faculty member.

question: Summarize everything associated with religion.

answer: Bethlehem Academy is a Roman Catholic high school. It is part of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Saint Paul and Minneapolis and is sponsored by the Sinsinawa Dominican Congregation of the Most Holy Rosary. The school's schedule includes all=school weekly Mass days.


text:
The recent news from Amazon, JPMorgan Chase and Berkshire Hathaway that the three companies plan to team up to create a new company to manage the health care needs of their employees has prompted a flurry of excited pronouncements about what this new venture means for the future of health care delivery in the United States.

Fox Business praised the new company as nothing short of “revolutionary,” while Bloomberg enthused it had the potential for “disrupting the broader industry.” CNBC predicted the group could succeed “where insurers and government have failed.” Others pointedly interpreted the joint venture as a free market counterpunch to the government’s overreach in the sector, symbolized most recently by Obamacare, a target for hatred by conservatives. “It shows how health care reform _should_ work in this country,” Investor’s Business Daily editorialized. “You don’t need government calling the shots to bring meaningful reforms.”

Never mind that the details for the new company are few. Other than the announcement of the joint venture, leaders from the three companies have been unable to say what their new organization will do exactly. But that hasn’t stopped the sort of irrational exuberance that often greets the slightest hints of innovation from the private sector, especially in the realm of health care.

Yet all these responses ― from touting the new venture as an innovative disruption to hailing it as a needed private sector response to the government’s failure ― demonstrate a lack of historical perspective on how health care has operated in the United States and how our strange system of tying health insurance to employment has created our present circumstances. In this light, the new venture from Amazon et al. isn’t a radical intervention in the system but merely a natural evolution of what is already in place. More importantly, it’s a response to the failure of free market capitalism, not the government.

  The new venture from Amazon et al. isn’t a radical intervention in the system but merely a natural evolution of what is already in place.

Throughout the 20th century, attempts to create a government-run health care program were repeatedly thwarted by those who argued that individuals, rather than the federal government, should be in charge of their own medical decisions. Yet instead of individuals, employers became the arbiters of most Americans’ health care through a system of employment-based health insurance.

That system stands in marked contrast to what other developed nations built in the 20th century. In Western Europe, progressive governments created state-run health care systems to care for their citizens as part of the extensive social safety nets developed in the first half of the century. In the U.S., Theodore Roosevelt’s bid for the presidency in 1912 on the Progressive Party ticket included the first call for “a single national health service.” But the opportunity died when Roosevelt lost the election, in part because his plan had been decried as “socialized medicine.” That slur would prove incredibly effective at stalling other attempts at health care reform throughout the 20th century.

Rather than forming a state-run health system, the federal government offered companies incentives to provide health insurance to their employees through a series of tax measures in the 1940s and 1950s. With those incentives and a booming post-World War II economy, employers found that offering health insurance to their employees was one of the best ways they could recruit and retain workers in a scarce labor market.

What started as a competitive advantage provided by some companies soon became the basic standard Americans expected from their employment. That worked well for those with a job. But it also left many Americans ― particularly the elderly and the poor ― without coverage, something the private market seemed unwilling to fix.

  For a radical overhaul, for a true disruption, there’s really only one possible actor: the federal government.

Medicare and Medicaid, signed into law by President Lyndon B. Johnson in 1965, would fill in those gaps. Like all efforts to provide any sort of government-based health care, the programs faced stiff opposition from business leaders at the time. But they were also the logical consequence for a nation that had opted for an employment-based system rather than a comprehensive federal program. In such a scenario, the government had to pick up the slack for the people the private sector was not serving.

Medicare has had its challenges, of course, but it is worth noting how happy Americans have been with the program historically. Less satisfied are those Americans with employer-based insurance and, not surprisingly, those who lack health insurance altogether.

In this context, it’s important to recognize that the new health care company Amazon, JPMorgan Chase and Berkshire Hathaway are launching has been prompted by their own dissatisfaction with current private market options. Their plan offers a critique of what free market capitalism has generated, not an indictment of the federal government.

It also bears repeating that this joint venture will serve only the three companies’ own employees. While the new company may have lessons for other employers, it will not provide the sort of wholesale disruption of the American health care system that so many have breathlessly predicted. More likely, it will merely be yet another tinkering at the margins, yielding small ripples of innovation rather than a tidal wave of change.

For a radical overhaul, for a true disruption, there’s really only one possible actor: the federal government. That’s something Warren Buffett, the chairman of Berkshire Hathaway, understands. Just last year, he argued that government-run health insurance “probably is the best system.” But conservatives in Congress often backed by influential business leaders have not allowed the federal government to bring about that result.

That the billionaire investor would advocate such a measure should help us rethink what really counts as disruption in this economy. That his company would join forces with Amazon and JPMorgan Chase to create their own health care company should also chasten our expectations of how much the free market can bring about the large-scale change that is truly needed for health care in the United States.

_Neil J. Young is a historian and author of _We Gather Together: The Religious Right and the Problem of Interfaith Politics_. He hosts the history podcast “Past Present.”_

ALSO ON HUFFPOST OPINION

Calling all HuffPost superfans!

Sign up for membership to become a founding member and help shape HuffPost's next chapter

question: Explain why Amazon, JPMorgan Chase and Berkshire Hathaway are teaming up to create a new company.

answer: The three companies are joining up to create and manage the healthcare needs of their employees.

question: How has the American press taken to this news?

answer: Conservatives press sees it as a victory for the free market. In the opinion of the writer it appears to come from a place of historical ignorance when it comes to the healthcare system in the U.S and wy insurance for employees was started in the first place.

question: Describe the historical context for health insurance for employees in America.

answer: Health insurance was introduced to incentivize a dwindling workforce into taking employment, it was such a success that in a post-World War Two economy it became a standard feature that Americans expected when they took a job.

question: Who does this new company affect?

answer: The employees of Amazon, JPMorgan Chase and Berkshire Hathaway.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: A Huffington Post article regarding the  teaming up of Amazon, JPMorgan Chase and Berkshire Hathaway into a new company with a specific health insurance for their employees. The journalist offers their opinion and historical context regarding this new venture.


text:
18th Visual Effects Society Awards
January 29, 2020
----
Outstanding Visual Effects in a Photoreal Feature:
The Lion King
----
Outstanding Visual Effects in a Photoreal Episode:
The Mandalorian – The Child
The 18th Visual Effects Society Awards was an awards ceremony held by the Visual Effects Society. Nominations were announced on January 7, 2020, and the ceremony took place on January 29, 2020.
 Nominees
 Honorary Awards
Lifetime Achievement Award:
*Martin Scorsese
VES Visionary Award:
*Roland Emmerich
VES Award for Creative Excellence
*Sheena Duggal
 Film
The Lion King – Robert Legato, Tom Peitzman, Adam Valdez, Andrew R. Jones
*Alita: Battle Angel – Richard Hollander, Kevin Sherwood, Eric Saindon, Richard Baneham, Bob Trevino
*Avengers: Endgame – Dan DeLeeuw, Jen Underdahl, Russell Earl, Matt Aitken, Dan Sudick
*Gemini Man – Bill Westenhofer, Karen Murphy-Mundell, Guy Williams, Sheldon Stopsack, Mark Hawker
*Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker – Roger Guyett, Stacy Bissell, Patrick Tubach, Neal Scanlan, Dominic Tuohy
The Irishman – Pablo Helman, Mitchell Ferm, Jill Brooks, Leandro Estebecorena, Jeff Brink
*1917 – Guillaume Rocheron, Sona Pak, Greg Butler, Vijay Selvam, Dominic Tuohy
*Ford v Ferrari – Olivier Dumont, Kathy Siegel, Dave Morley, Malte Sarnes, Mark Byers
*Joker – Edwin Rivera, Brice Parker, Mathew Giampa, Bryan Godwin, Jeff Brink
*The Aeronauts – Louis Morin, Annie Godin, Christian Kaestner, Ara Khanikian, Mike Dawson
Missing Link – Brad Schiff, Travis Knight, Steve Emerson, Benoit Dubuc
*Frozen II – Steve Goldberg, Peter Del Vecho, Mark Hammel, Michael Giaimo
*Klaus – Sergio Pablos, Matthew Teevan, Marcin Jakubowski and Szymon Biernacki
*The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part – David Burgess, Tim Smith, Mark Theriault and John Rix
*Toy Story 4 – Josh Cooley, Mark Nielsen, Bob Moyer and Gary Bruins
Alita: Battle Angel – Alita – Michael Cozens, Mark Haenga, Olivier Lesaint, Dejan Momcliovic
*Avengers: Endgame – Smart Hulk – Kevin Martel, Ebrahim Jahromi, Sven Jensen, Rober Allman
*Gemini Man – Junior – Paul Story, Stuart Adcock, Emiliano Padovani, Marco Revelant
*The Lion King – Scar – Gabriel Arnold, James Hood, Julia Friedl, Daniel Fortheringham
Missing Link – Susan – Rachelle Lambden, Brenda Baumgarten, Morgan Hay, Benoit Dubuc
*Frozen II – The Water Nøkk – Svetla Radivoeva, Marc Bryant, Richard E. Lehmann, Cameron Black
*Klaus – Jesper – Yoshimishi Tamura, Alfredo Cassano, Maxime Delalande, Jason Schwartzman
*Toy Story 4 – Bo Peep – Radford Hurn, Tanja Krampfert, George Nguyen and Becki Rocha Tower
The Lion King – The Pridelands – Marco Rolandi, Luca Bonatti, Jules Bodenstein, Filippo Preto
*Aladdin – Agrabah – Daniel Schmid, Falk Boje, Stanislaw Marek, Kevin George
*Alita: Battle Angel – Iron City – John Stevenson-Galvin, Ryan Arcus, Mathias Larserud, Mark Tait
*Motherless Brooklyn – Penn Station – John Bair, Vance Miller, Sebastian Romero, Steve Sullivan
*Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker –Pasaana Desert – Daniele Bigi, Steve Hardy, John Seru, Steven Denyer
Toy Story 4 – Antiques Mall – Hosuk Chang, Andrew Finley, Alison Leaf, Philip Shoebottom for Antique Mall
*Frozen II – Giants' Gorge – Samy Segura, Jay V. Jackson, Justin Cram, Scott Townsend
*How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World – The Hidden World – Chris Grun, Ronnie Cleland, Ariel Chisholm, Philippe Brochu
*Missing Link – Passage to India Jungle – Oliver Jones, Phil Brotherton, Nick Mariana, Ralph Procida
The Lion King –Robert Legato, Caleb Deschanel, Ben Grossman, AJ Sciutto
*Alita: Battle Angel – Emile Ghorayeb, Simon Jung, Nick Epstein, Mike Perry
*The Mandalorian – The Prisoner, The Roost – Richard Bluff, Jason Porter, Landis Fields IV, Baz Idione
*Toy Story 4 – Jean-Claude Kalache, Patrick Lin
The Mandalorian – The Sin; The Razorcrest – Doug Chiang, Jay Machado, John Goodson, Landis Fields IV
*Lost in Space – The Resolute – Xuan Prada, Jason Martin, Jonathan Vårdstedt, Eric Andersson
*Missing Link – The Manchuria – Todd Alan Harvey, Dan Casey, Katy Hughes
*The Man in the High Castle – Rocket Train – Neil Taylor, Casi Blume, Ben McDougal, Chris Kuhn
Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker – Don Wong, Thibault Gauriau, Goncalo Cabaca, Francois-Maxence Desplanques
*Dumbo – Bubble Elephants – Sam Hancock, Victor Glushchenko, Andrew Savchenko, Arthur Moody
*Spider-Man: Far From Home – Molten Man – Adam Gailey, Jacob Santamaria, Jacob Clark, Stephanie Molk
*The Lion King – David Schneider, Samantha Hiscock, Andy Feery, Kostas Strevlos
Frozen II – Erin V. Ramos, Scott Townsend, Thomas Wickes, Rattanin Sirinaruemarn
*Abominable – Alex Timchenko, Domin Lee, Michael Losure, Eric Warren
*How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World – Water and Waterfalls – Derek Cheung, Baptiste Van Opastal, Youxi Woo, Jason Mayer
*Toy Story 4 – Alexis Angelidis, Amit Baadkar, Lyon Liew and Michael Lorenzen
The Irishman – Nelson Sepulveda, Vince Papaix, Benjamin O'Brien, Christopher Doerhoff
*Alita: Battle Angel –Adam Bradley, Carlo Scaduto, Hirofumi Takeda, Ben Roberts
*Avengers: Endgame – Tim Walker, Blake Winder, Tobias Wiesner, Joerg Bruemmer
*Captain Marvel - Young Nick Fury – Trent Claus, David Moreno Hernandez, Jeremiah Sweeney, Yuki Uehara
*Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker – Jeff Sutherland, John Galloway, Sam Bassett, Charles Lai
The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance – She Knows All the Secrets – Sean Mathiesen, Jon Savage, Toby Froud, Phil Harvey
*Aladdin – Magic Carpet – Mark Holt, Jay Mallet, Will Wyatt, Dickon Mitchell
*Game of Thrones - The Bells – Sam Conway, Terry Palmer, Laurence Harvey, Alastair Vardy
*Terminator: Dark Fate – Neil Corbould, David Brighton, Ray Ferguson, Keith Dawson
 Television
The Mandalorian – The Child – Richard Bluff, Abbigail Keller, Jason Porter, Hayden Jones, Roy Cancinon
*Game of Thrones – The Bells – Joe Bauer, Steve Kullback, Ted Rae, Mohsen Mousavi, Sam Conway
*His Dark Materials – The Fight to the Death – Russell Dodgson, James, Whitlam, Shawn Hillier, Robert Harrington
*Lady and the Tramp – Robert Weaver, Christopher Raimo, Arslan Elver, Michael Cozens, Bruno Van Zeebroeck
*Lost in Space – Ninety-Seven – Jabbar Raisani, Terron Pratt, Niklas Jacobson, Juri Stanossek, Paul Benjamin
*Stranger Things – Chapter Six: E Pluribus Unum – Paul Graff,  Tom Ford, Michael Maher Jr., Martin Pelletier, Andy Sowers
Chernobyl – 1:23:45 – Max Dennison, Lindsay McFarlane, Clare Cheetham, Paul Jones, Claudius Christian Rauch
*Living with Yourself – Nice Knowing You – Jay Worth, Jacqueline VandenBussche, Chris Wright, Tistan Zerafa
*See – Godflame – Adrian de Wet, Eve Fizzinoglia, Matthew Welford, Pedro Sabrosa, Tom Blacklock
*The Crown – Aberfan – Ben Turner, Reece Ewing, David Fleet, Jonathan Wood
*Vikings – What Happens in the Cave – Dominic Remane, Mike Borrett, Ovidiu Cinazan, Tom Morrison, Paul Byrne
Hennessy – The Seven Worlds – Carsten Keller, Selcuk Ergen, Kiril Mirkov, William Laban
*Anthem – Conviction – Vikto Muller, Lenka Likarova, Chris Harvey, Petr Marek
*BMW – Legend – Michael Gregory, Christian Downes, Tim Kafka, Toya Drechsler
*PlayStation – Feel the Power of Pro – Sam Driscoll, Clare Melia, Gary Driver, Stefan Susemihl
*Purdey's – Hummingbird – Jules Janaud, Emma Cook, Matthew Thomas, Philip Child
Stranger Things – Tom/Bruce Monster – Joseph Dubé-Arsenault, Antoine Barthod, Frederick Gagnon, Xavier Lafarge
*Lady and the Tramp – Tramp – Thiago Martins, Arslan Elver, Stanislas Paillereau, Martine Chartrand
*The Mandalorian – The Child; Mudhorn – Terry Bannon, Rudy Massar, Hugo Leygnac
*The Umbrella Academy – Pilot; Pogo – Aidan Martin, Craig Young, Olivier Beierlein, Laurent Herveic
Cyberpunk 2077 – Dex – Jonas Ekman, Jonas Skoog, Marek Madej, Grzegorz Chonjnacki
*Apex Legends - Meltdown; Mirage – Chris Bayol, John Fielding, Derrick Sesson, Nole Murphy
*Churchill – Churchie – Martino Madeddu, Philippe Moine, Clement Granjon, Jon Wood
*John Lewis – Excitable Edgar; Edgar – Tim van Hussen, Diarmid Harrison-Murray, Amir Bazzazi, Michael Diprose
Game of Thrones – The Iron Throne; Red Keep Plaza – Carlos Patrick DeLeon, Alonso Bocanegra Martinez, Marcela Silva, Benjamin Ross
*Lost in Space – Precipice; The Trench – Philip Engström, Benjamion Bernon, Martin Bergquist, Xuan Prada
*The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance – The Endless Forest – Sulé Bryan, Charles Chorein, Christian Waite, Martyn Hawkins
*The Mandalorian – Nevarro Town – Alex Murtaza, Yanick Gaudreau, Marco Tremblay, Maryse Bouchard
Game of Thrones – The Bells – Marcel Kern, Paul Fuller, Ryo Sakaguchi, Thomas Hartmann
*Hennessy – The Seven Worlds – Selcuk Ergen, Radu Ciubotariu, Andrew Lucio, Vincent Ullmann
*Lost in Space – Precipice; Water Planet – Juri Bryan, Hugo Medda, Kristian Olsson, John Perrigo
*Stranger Things – Melting Tom/Bruce – Nathan Arbuckle, Christian Gaumond, James Dong, Aleksander Starkov
*The Mandalorian – The Child; Mudhorn – Xavier Martin Ramirez, Ian Baxter, Fabio Siino, Andrea Rosa
Game of Thrones – The Long Night; Dragon Ground Battle – Mark Richardson, Darren Christie, Nathan Abbott, Owen Longstaff
*Game of Thrones – The Bells – Sean Heuston, Scott Joseph, James Elster, Corinne Teo
*Stranger Things – Starcourt Mall Battle – Simon Lehembre, Andrew Kowbell, Karim El-Masry, Miklos Mesterhazy
*Watchmen – Pilot; Looking Glass – Nathaniel Larouche, Iyi Tubi, Perunika Yorgova, Mitchell Beaton
Hennessy – The Seven Worlds – Rod Norman, Guillaume Weiss, Alexander Kulikov, Alessandro Granella
*BMW – Legend – Toya Drechsler, Vivek Tekale, Guillaume Weiss, Alexander Kulikov
*Feeding America – I Am Hunger in America – Dan Giraldo, Marcelo Pasqualino, Alexander Koester
*PlayStation – Feel the Power of Pro – Gary Driver, Stefan Susemihl, Greg Spencer, Theajo Dharan
 Other categories
Control – Janne Pulkkinen, Elmeri Raitanen, Matti Hämäläinen, James Tottman
*Call of Duty Modern Warfare – Charles Chabert, Chris Parise, Attila Zalanyi, Patrick Hagar
*Gears 5 – Aryan Hanbeck, Laura Kippax, Greg Mitchell, Stu Maxwell
*Myth: A Frozen Tale – Jeff Gipson, Nicholas Russell, Brittney Lee, Jose Luis Gomez Diaz
*Vader Immortal: Episode I – Ben Snow, Mike Doran, Aaron McBride, Steve Henricks
Star Wars: Rise of the Resistance – Jason Bayever, Patrick Kearney, Carol Norton, Bill George
*Avengers: Damage Control – Michael Koperwas, Shereif Fattouh, Ian Bowie, Kishore Vijay, Curtis Hickman
*Jurassic World: The Ride – Hayden Landis, Friend Wells, Heath Kraynak, Ellen Coss
*Millennium Falcon – Smugglers Run – Asa Kalama, Rob Huebner, Khatsho Orfali, Susan Greenhow
*Universal Sphere – James Healy, Morgan MacCuish, Ben West, Charlie Bayliss
The Beauty – Marc Angele, Aleksandra Todorovic, Pascal Schelbli, Noel Winzen
*Downfall – Matias Heker, Stephen Moroz, Bradley Cocksedge
*Love and Fifty Megatons – Denis Krez, Josephine Roß, Paulo Scatena, Lukas Löffler
*Oeil Pour Oeil – Alan Guimont, Thomas Boileau, Malcom Hunt, Robin Courtoise
 Most nominations

title: 18th Visual Effects Society Awards

question: What does the text say about The Mandalorian?

answer: The Mandalorian episode 'The Child' won the award for Outstanding Visual Effects in a Photoreal Episode. The awards ceremony was the 18th Visual Effects Society Awards, held on January 29, 2020. People credited with the award were Richard Bluff, Abbigail Keller, Jason Porter, Hayden Jones, Roy Cancinon. Also nominated for 'The Child; Mudhorn' were Xavier Martin Ramirez, Ian Baxter, Fabio Siino, Andrea Rosa, Terry Bannon, Rudy Massar, and Hugo Leygnac.

question: What does the text say about Sheena Duggal?

answer: Sheena Duggal won the VES Award for Creative Excellence, an honorary award.

question: What does the text say about Succession?

question: What does the text say about the Best Soundtrack?


text:
It’s midnight and the boy groggily continues playing his video game. The dark room briefly experiences flashes of light, which reveals the disarray of his room. The clothes on the floor and the papers on the desk are seemingly forgotten, a common sight. However, the black envelope that just slid under the door is not.

Jordan noticed the movement immediately. He turns his head abruptly, but he doesn't spring to action nearly as quickly. He just stares at the unknown black object on the floor for a few seconds before deciding to go ahead and pick it up. His heart starts pounding. He feels a dangerous aura emitting from it, but he brushes it aside. It is just an envelope after all.

He lumbers out of his beanbag, its own rustling barely audible over the crack of gunshots coming from the tv. But even louder than the tv is Jordan’s own heart He doesn't understand why this is getting such a rise out of him. It is just an envelope after all.

Slowly, carefully, he takes his first step towards the door. Jordan pauses, almost expecting something to happen. He had no idea as to what, he just knew it was something he should be afraid of. Nonetheless, he takes another step, it is just an envelope after all.

His steps have fallen into a rhythm. The anchoring anxiety on his shoulders makes the short distance of walking across the room feel more like wading through a long stretch of murky water. In spite of this he continues onward, ignoring his festering fears. It is just an envelope after all.

Finally, the envelope sits right in front of his feet. Upon closer inspection he discovers a strange marking in the top right corner of the envelope. Jordan hesitantly picks up the letter, and only then does he realize how sweaty his palms are. Not only his palms, but his entire body was. He was so afraid, but he couldn't explain it, it is just an envelope after all.
Beads of sweat darted down his face, and hands trembling, he places one finger beneath the fold of the letter, ready to tear it open. If his heart was pounding before, now it is clawing frantically, trying to escape the confines of his chest. He locks
his knees, shuts his eyes, and makes his body rigid as he rips the envelope open.

Nothing. Nothing happened. He slowly opens his eyes and turns his face back towards the envelope. It wasn't even black. It's just a plain old envelope, and in it was a plain old letter.

To whom it may concern,
If this is the residence of a Jordan Hannon, please come to Saint Marie's hospital on Myers Street. Your refill for Prolixin is ready for pick up.
              Dr. Baal

          It was just an envelope after all.

title: [TH] Envelope

question: Why was Jordan frightened to open the envelope?

answer: That information is not known.

question: What was Jordan expecting in the envelope?

answer: That information is not known.

question: Why did Jordan think something terrible might happen if he opened the envelope?

answer: That information is not known.

question: What is Prolixin, and why was Jordan taking it?

answer: That information is not known.

question: Is it possible that Jordan was addicted to video games, and they hurt his mind?

answer: It is not certain.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Jordan received an envelope at his door at midnight while playing a video game. For some reason, he was daunted by the idea of the envelope or its contents. Eventually, when he opened it, it was a message for him from Dr Baal regarding a pickup of Prolixin refill.


text:
_UFC FIGHT NIGHT: BLAYDES VS. DOS SANTOS_ (also known as _UFC FIGHT NIGHT 166_ and _UFC ON ESPN+ 24_) was a mixed martial arts event produced by the Ultimate Fighting Championship that took place on January 25, 2020 at PNC Arena in Raleigh, North Carolina, United States.[1]

Background

The event was the first that the promotion hosted in Raleigh and first in North Carolina since UFC on Fox: Jacaré vs. Brunson 2 in January 2018.[2]

A heavyweight bout between Curtis Blaydes and former champion Junior dos Santos served as the event headliner.[3]

A bantamweight bout was scheduled between former UFC Lightweight Champion Frankie Edgar and Cory Sandhagen at the event. However, Edgar was withdrawn from the fight in favour of facing Chan Sung Jung in a featherweight bout at UFC Fight Night: Edgar vs. The Korean Zombie after Jung's original opponent, former featherweight title challenger Brian Ortega, pulled out due to a knee injury.[4] In turn, Sandhagen was removed from the card and expected to be rescheduled for a future event after promotion officials deemed that a suitable opponent could not be arranged.[5]

A middleweight bout between Bevon Lewis and Alen Amedovski was scheduled to take place at the event. However, Amedovski was forced to pull out of the event citing injury and was replaced by Dequan Townsend.[6]

A strawweight bout between Hannah Cifers and Brianna Van Buren was scheduled to take place at the event. However, Van Buren was pulled from the event due to undisclosed reasons and replaced by former Invicta FC Strawweight Champion Angela Hill.[7]

Featherweight fighters Josh Emmett and Nad Narimani pulled out of their scheduled fights against Arnold Allen and Nik Lentz respectively, citing injuries.[8] As a result, Allen and Lentz faced each other at the event.[9]

Results

[10]

Bonus awards

The following fighters received $50,000 bonuses.[11]

-   FIGHT OF THE NIGHT: BRETT JOHNS VS. TONY GRAVELY
-   PERFORMANCE OF THE NIGHT: ALEX PEREZ and HERBERT BURNS

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

title: UFC Fight Night: Blaydes vs. dos Santos

question: How is UFC Fight Night: Blaydes VS. Dos Santos also known?

answer: UFC FIght Night 166 and UFC on ESPN+ 24

question: When was UFC Fight Night: Blaydes VS. Dos Santos?

answer: January 25, 2020

question: What bout won fight of the night at UFC Fight Night: Blaydes VS. Dos Santos?

answer: Brett Johns VS. Tony Gravely

question: Who won performance of the night at UFC Fight Night: Blaydes VS. Dos Santos?

answer: Alex Perez and Herbert Burns

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: UFC Fight Night: Blaydes VS. Dos Santos was a mixed martial arts event produced by the Ultimate Fighting Championship that took place on January 25, 2020 at PNC Arena in Raleigh, North Carolina, United States.


text:
He wondered aimlessly. He didn’t think. Thinking took too much effort and the thoughts it created were not worth venturing down quite yet. He just walked because that was all he could do. His phone was in his pocket and he endured the cold while he waited for it to ring. The breeze ran down the street and bit and tore until it bit into his skin. He was not walking to anywhere in particular or for any other reason than to stall. The streets were deserted and the park by the lake contained nothing but the geese lagging behind on their journey south.

His mind trailed off. Where could she be? What could she be doing? When was the last time I saw? Does she even want to see me? Am I simply just wasting my time? No, no, no he thought, don’t let your mind wonder off. Thinking hurts too much. She cannot just be gone without a goodbye or a mere fare thee well.

Nine p.m. he said. We will go to the movies, and then have dinner. It would be wonderful. Reality versus expectations- they are never the same. He approached the pond and walked down the hill till he was on the middle of it. He sat down and looked out across. It was calm except for the ripples caused by the wind. The silence was the best part. Silence was a commodity he longed for. He felt his phone in his pocket and looked at the time, ten-thirty. No missed messages, no missed calls, not anything. He put it away and stared at the light on the other side of the lake. He wrapped his hands around himself and stuck them under his arms to stay warm and waited for a call.

Ten-forty-five. At ten-forty-five it finally arrives. The phone rings and he answers. Contempt, hate, rage, and longing coursed through him. He doesn’t speak immediately. Control is important, nothing good comes from impulse. “Hello my dear. Is it as I fear? Will I still see you here?”

“No my love, I am coming now. I’m sorry, I am sorry I took so long. The people I was with just kept rambling on and on, like loons, but don’t be mad, I will be beside you soon.”

A consolation time, being second, what else should one expect?  Don’t expect anything and you will never be disappointed he always said. “Okay then. It was your time, and never mine, but yours to spend. I just thought it was on you that I could depend.”

He let the cold slip in further. His ears went numb, then his cheeks, and then his toes. Finally he stood up and proceeded home. He opened the door and the warmth escaped out. The couch welcomed him, and hugged around him when he sat down. Eleven o’clock his phone said now. Better late than never he thought. Then twelve came around. Then one, and then finally his eyes fell shut and he gave up.

He woke up with hands running through his hair. Cold hands. He looked up and saw her. The smile crept across their faces as the stared. “Hello my love,” he said looking above, “why have you taken so long?”

“Because here dear, is not where I belong. You have known this for far too long. Yet I always must come along, to remind you. That I am always here. I am always there. A reminder to you that things only get colder and harder, but never darker”

“But my love you must explain. Why am I in so much pain? Why must you always delay?  I have love for you that cannot be swayed, but I would rather just end this masquerade. I would rather you just have always stayed.”

And one day soon. That will happen for you. Though it may hurt, I promise you will just simply awake. With my hand in your hair and a smile in which we both partake. And I won’t be cold. I will be something you can actually hold. And be far more than Lenore or some forgotten lore. I will be yours.”

And then she was gone. He felt his head. It was still cold. He checked his phone and saw no calls. No messages. Nothing at all. Nothing at all to ease his mind. So he lay there, just trying not to think .

title: He Tried Not to Think

question: Why doesn't the narrator's lover message him?

answer: The narrator's lover is dead. her soul visits him only in his dreams. She tells him that he has known for a long time that she doesn't belong in this world.

question: How did the narrator's lover die?


text:
Modifying this control will reload this page

[Mac notebooks]

Apple has determined that a small percentage of the keyboards in certain MacBook, MacBook Air, and MacBook Pro models may exhibit one or more of the following behaviors:

-   Letters or characters repeat unexpectedly
-   Letters or characters do not appear
-   Key(s) feel "sticky" or do not respond in a consistent manner

Apple or an Apple Authorized Service Provider will service eligible MacBook, MacBook Air, and MacBook Pro keyboards, free of charge. The type of service will be determined after the keyboard is examined and may involve the replacement of one or more keys or the whole keyboard.

Eligible Models

To identify your computer's model and to see if it is eligible for this program, choose Apple () menu > About This Mac. Eligible models are listed below.

-   MacBook (Retina, 12-inch, Early 2015)
-   MacBook (Retina, 12-inch, Early 2016)
-   MacBook (Retina, 12-inch, 2017)
-   MacBook Air (Retina, 13-inch, 2018)
-   MacBook Air (Retina, 13-inch, 2019)
-   MacBook Pro (13-inch, 2016, Two Thunderbolt 3 Ports)
-   MacBook Pro (13-inch, 2017, Two Thunderbolt 3 Ports)
-   MacBook Pro (13-inch, 2019, Two Thunderbolt 3 ports)
-   MacBook Pro (13-inch, 2016, Four Thunderbolt 3 Ports)
-   MacBook Pro (13-inch, 2017, Four Thunderbolt 3 Ports)
-   MacBook Pro (15-inch, 2016)
-   MacBook Pro (15-inch, 2017)
-   MacBook Pro (13-inch, 2018, Four Thunderbolt 3 Ports)
-   MacBook Pro (15-inch, 2018)
-   MacBook Pro (13-inch, 2019, Four Thunderbolt 3 Ports)
-   MacBook Pro (15-inch, 2019)

Note: No other Mac notebook models are part of this program.

Service Process

Please choose one of the options below for service. Your Mac notebook will be examined prior to any service to verify that it is eligible for this program.

The type of service will be determined after the keyboard is examined and may involve the replacement of one or more keys or the whole keyboard. The service turn-around time may vary depending upon the type of service and availability of replacement parts.

-   Find an Apple Authorized Service Provider.
-   Make an appointment at an Apple Retail Store.
-   Mail in your device to the Apple Repair Center.

To prepare your unit for service, please backup your data.

Note: If your MacBook, MacBook Air, or MacBook Pro has any damage which impairs the service, that issue will need to be repaired first. In some cases, there may be a cost associated with the repair.

Additional Information

This worldwide Apple program does not extend the standard warranty coverage of your Mac notebook.

If you believe your Mac notebook was affected by this issue, and you paid to have your keyboard repaired, you can contact Apple about a refund.

The program covers eligible MacBook, MacBook Air, and MacBook Pro models for 4 years after the first retail sale of the unit.

Information as of 2019-07-09

question: How is Apple solving this issue?

answer: By servicing eligible MacBook, MacBook Air, and MacBook Pro keyboards for free.

question: What years do the eligible MacBooks span from

answer: From 2015 to 2019.

question: What is suggested to do to prepare your unit for service?

answer: Backup your data.

question: When was this information provided?

answer: July 9, 2019.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Apple has found that some MacBook, MacBook Air, and MacBook Pro keyboards exhibit some issued. They are now providing free services to fix eligible keyboards. They have provided a list of eligible keyboards, and suggest you backup your data before you get your keyboard serviced.


text:
We walked through a vale holding each other's hand. I felt perfectly comfortable remaining silent and marching along as long as I knew she was with me. We had reached past the point of us needing speech to get our emotions across. We continued strolling for a while and then finally sat on a bench which was perched under an arched outgrowth of a stony structure. She put Her head on my lap and closed Her eyes. My love grew for Her every second I watched Her beautiful face in deep sleep. I wondered whether she felt the same way, or whether she felt at all. Suddenly, I sensed the earth moving. The whole world around me was shaking. I realised I didn't have much time left. I was about to depart. Slowly, the waterfall, flowers, the lake, butterflies, and the mountains faded away into darkness and then a bright light met my eye. The brightness diminished and I was back in my room. My servant was standing in front of me. "Sir, why are you so hard to wake up these days? If you carry on going late to work, you will eventually be fired. You don't want that do you?" he said. If only he knew.

I was both happy and sad. I felt sad leaving Her, but I was happy that it had now worked three times in a row. How lucky was I, that having slept a sad sleep the day before yesterday, I would meet Her the second time. This ignited in me the thought of the possibility that I could meet Her whenever I wanted to. So I tried to meet Her the third time today. I was doubtful and skeptical. I am a middle aged man who has never experienced love. Forget the act of loving, I couldn't even think of the prospect of finding love in my lifetime. I turned off all the lights, locked the door, threw myself on the bed and closed my eyes.
I was failing. I was sweating uncontrollably with nervousness. This was my last chance to find what I never had. Then, I thought of Her, with Her soft and beautiful face, Her enigmatic eyes, Her endless > locks of hair, Her slender yet graceful body, the vulnerability in Her glances, Her voice that confirmed the presence of angelic minstrels. God himself had sent down this perfect entity for me to spend time with, albeit in a second reality. I had to calm down and sleep. I was no longer panting, and was able to slowly drift away into slumber.

I was in a vast empty ball room. It was beautiful, but right now, I had no concern for the beauty of inanimate objects. I had to find Her as quickly as I could, so I could maximise the amount of time I was to spend with Her. I looked for Her everywhere. Where was she? Was it really possible that I failed, even in bringing a being that lived inside my thoughts, to appear in front of me? I was suddenly struck by the memory of yesterday. I had stood in front of the mirror for an hour. I gazed at my disfigured body, my hunched back, my crooked teeth, my uneven face and my uninteresting eyes. I had decided to break every mirror in my house that day, for they were only a source of pain to me. Now, as I looked around for Her in the ballroom, I slowly became demoralised. I could not even find Her in a second reality. I wept and I wept, and for sure, I did know I was physically weeping too, for I felt the dampness seep through my body. 'Come here,' said an enchanting voice. 'Did you really think I was going to leave you alone?'

A white figure seemed to be approaching me. Her shape became more apparent as she moved towards me. She was dressed in the most elegant of elegant dresses. She came up to me, and without uttering a word, kissed me. All my doubts, inferiorities and insecurities vanished in a matter of seconds. 'You have me right now and you will have me forever,' she said. 'My appearance may change but I will always be Her.' We sat together on the velveted floor. I told Her everything I knew and everything I wanted to do. She listened patiently without any patronising judgement. She seemed as if she had been lost in my discourse. She comforted me when I told Her my doubts and answered me when I had queries. Seconds, minutes, hours and then days seemed to have passed by. We were still sat on the same spot talking and being lost in wonder of one another. 'I have to go fly,' she said with a hint of sycophancy, 'Try not to think about me.' She faded away gradually, and slowly, the whole room turned dim and finally, my whole vision was obscured. I woke up.

I opened my eyes and looked around. I wasn't in my room. There were people around me, maybe four or five. 'Sir, you have been in a coma for six years. My whole team and I would like to congratulate you on being born again. Also try to sleep less,' a doctor said, letting out a faint chuckle. I wasn't able to speak as I lay there helpless. I didn't care about anyone else other than Her. I wanted to go back and never come back. A memory came to my mind about when I met my childhood friend after not seeing him for a while.

'What brought you into acting then, James?' I asked.

'My wife... the third one, she pushed me towards getting a job as an actor. She had faith in my ability. And so right she was, I had never even dreamed of achieving such fame.' James answered.
'Good for you, my friend, if only I were a part of your gene pool.'

'My gene pool? You think I've only gotten this far because of my looks?'

'You never were intelligent were you? Only if you were, you could have acknowledged the luck that had been bestowed upon you. Nobody falls in love with character at first sight. Set on this earth is a bliss for the rich and beautiful.'

'You always were a jealous man. Stop envying other people's abilities and go back to your cave and hang out with your rodents, you incompatible oddity!'

He stormed out of the restaurant leaving me alone with my food and strangers' stares. He was right. I was an oddity.

I had regained consciousness and was out of my coma. I had been awake thinking about this incident while tears ran down my face. It was soon dark outside and I started feeling drowsy. I was about to sleep and it was the most joyous part of the day. I soon fell asleep but there were no dreams this day and I woke up without any recollection of Her. 'This wouldn't happen again,' I thought to myself. I slept the next day and again; no luck. The day after that, I entered a dream but she was nowhere to be seen. Did she lie when she said she would be with me forever? I was discharged from the hospital and returned to my room. Surely, this was where it all started so I will get to meet her when I sleep in my own dwelling. I slept. She had abandoned me. The only companion I had, had abandoned me. She was a part of me so I guess I had abandoned myself.

'There is more than one way a person can sleep.' I thought to myself. I started panting. I walked in circles for an hour in my room as my heartbeat became faster and faster. I had no family or acquaintances I could talk to. I started climbing the stairs sluggishly, that led to the highest storey of the high-rise. My pulse increasing with every step I took. I finally arrived at the top of the skyscraper. I stood at its edge, with my heart pounding the loudest and fastest it had ever pounded. I thought of Her one last time. 'I will surely meet you, and I would never know even if I don't. My real love has always been the sleep that rescued me by allowing me to dream.'  With these thoughts, I took the step to death. The only feeling I felt after that was the feeling of Nothing.

title: Love Slumber

question: Why does the narrator step off the building at the end of the story?

answer: The narrator is in love with a girl from his dreams. He is middle-aged and has never experienced love. The narrator is disfigured and he finds it difficult to come to terms with his disability. Whenever he sleeps she comes to him in his dreams. Then one day he can't find her any more so he kills himself.

question: Why does the narrator's friend accuse him of being jealous?

answer: The friend believes that the narrator is jealous because he implies that the reason James has been successful as an actor is due to his good looks. The narrator implies that he could have been just as successful if he had the same good fortune. To make matters worse the narrator tells his friend that he also isn't very intelligent.


text:
AVERIL CONSTANCE DEMUTH (1906–2000) was an English writer of children's stories, several of which have a fantasy element.

Life

Averil Constance Demuth was born on 5 January 1906 in Devon.

In the 1920s Demuth wrote words for music composed by Norman Demuth. However, her first story was _Trudi and Hansel_ (1938), set in the Austrian Tyrol. The girl Trudi, the boy Hansel, the cow Lotti, the dog Berni, the hen Griselda and the raven Kraak all go up the mountain to see Riese the giant, and then all come down again. Eleanor Farjeon gave the book a positive review: “Nora Lavrin's delicious crayon illustrations are the gay and unsophisticated complement to Averil Demuth's Tyrolean tale ... I like this book very much”.[1] A biographical sketch of Demuth appeared in the children's book club magazine _Young Wings_.[2] _The House in the Mountains_ (1940), illustrated by Grace Huxtable, was set in Kandergurgl, a little Swiss village. Max, Lisel and the other children encounter a witch, a wicked baron, Ruffin the dog, Mr Fooks the fox and Mr Trog the bear in a story with kidnappings, magic, secret passages and a ransom.[3]

In 1941 she was living in Heston, Cornwall.[4] She married Anthony Cockbain in Penzance in 1941, though he died in November 1942,[5] after only one year of marriage.[6]

_The Enchanted Islands_ (1941) was followed by _Sea Gypsies_ (1942), a holiday story of Peter and Petronel on an “enchanted island”, where the “little people” were as real as humans. The _Manchester Guardian_ reviewer welcomed the book: “This story is very well done”.[7]_The House of the Wind_(1953) was an adventure story set in Cornwall. One reviewer remarked that the story “spurns the hygenic world of normal holidays and enters into Lyonese and ancient magic without being objectionably fey”.[8]

In 1968 Demuth edited a book about the Minack Theatre: six people connected to the theatre described their activities, and Demuth herself gave a historical account of the theatre.[9] She died on 16 May 2000 in Penzance.

Works

-   (with Norman Demuth) _Two ships: unison song_. London: Oxford University Press, 1926. The English choral songs, no. 57. Music by Norman Demuth, words by Averil Demuth.
-   (with Norman Demuth) _Spindrift: unison song_. London : Edward Arnold & Co., 1930. Singing class music, No. 370. Music by Norman Demuth, words by Averil Demuth.
-   _Trudi and Hansel: a story of the Austrian Tyrol_. London: J.M. Dent and Sons, 1938. Illustrated by Nora Lavrin.
-   _The house in the mountains: a Swiss story_. London. Illustrated by Grace Huxtable. (American edition illustrated by Ninon MacKnight.)
-   _The enchanted islands: a modern fairy tale_. London: H. Hamilton, 1941. Illustrated by Grace Huxtable.
-   _The sea gypsies_. London: H. Hamilton, 1942. Illustrated by Grace Huxtable.
-   _The house of the wind_. London: Hamish Hamilton, 1953. Illustrated by Fritz Wegner.
-   (ed.) ''The Minack open-air theatre: a symposium ''. Newton Abbott: David Charles Ltd., 1968.

[1] Eleanor Farjeon, 'Authors v. Artists', _The Manchester Guardian_, 4 December 1938, p. 18.

[2] _Young Wings: The Magazine of the Boys' and Girls' Book Club_, Vol. 10, No. 4 (September 1938), p. 20.

[3] 'For the Children: Happy Families', _The Manchester Guardian_, 5 January 1941, p. 4.

[4]

[5] 'Deaths', _The Times_, 9 December 1942, p. 1.

[6] British & Irish Women Writers of Fiction 1910-1960 (D)

[7] M. C., 'Books of the Day: Christmas Books', _The Manchester Guardian_, 18 December 1942, p. 3.

[8] Mary Crozier, 'Books for the Uncertain Years', _The Manchester Guardian_, 4 December 1953, p. 9.

[9] _The Times_, 26 August 1968, p. 9.

title: Averil Demuth

question: Summarize what happened in the 1940's.

answer: Averil Demuth wrote 'The House in the Mountains' in 1940, it is a story set in Kandergugl, a little Swiss village and contains kidnappings, ransom, secret passages and magic. Demuth married Anthony Cockbain in Penzance in 1941, he died a year later. She published 'The Enchanted Islands: amodern fairy tale' in 1941 and the very well done 'Sea Gypsies' in 1942. Her next book was written well after the second world war.

question: Summarize all the information relating to the mountainous Austrian Tyrol.

question: Summarize the locations used by Demuth for her children's books.

answer: In her first story, 'Trudi and Hansel', the characters go up a mountain in the Austrian Tyrol. 'The House in the Mountain' is set in Kandergugl, a little Swiss village, where the characters encounter kidnappings and magic. 'Sea Gypsies' is set on an enchanted island and 'The House of the Wind' is set in Cornwall.

question: Summarize the reviews of Demuth's publications.

answer: Her first book, Trudi and Hansel, received a positive review from Eleanor Farjeon, the review focused on the illustrations in the book being a wonderful complement for the tale. A review of her book 'Sea Gypsies' said the story is very well done. One reviewer of 'The House of the Wind' remarked that the story spurns the world of normal holidays and enters that of ancient magic without being objectionably dark.