text:
ROCKCASTLE COUNTY is a county located in the southeastern part of the U.S. state of Kentucky. As of the 2010 census, the population was 17,056.[1] Its county seat is Mt. Vernon.[2] The county founded in 1810[3] and named for the Rockcastle River which runs through it. The river, in turn, is named for its majestic rock cliffs.

Rockcastle County is part of the Richmond–Berea, KY Micropolitan Statistical Area, which is also included in the Lexington-Fayette-Richmond-Frankfort, KY Combined Statistical Area.

Geography

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the county has a total area of , of which is land and (0.5%) is water.[4]

Adjacent counties

National protected area

-   Daniel Boone National Forest (part)

Demographics

As of the census[5] of 2000, there were 16,582 people, 6,544 households, and 4,764 families residing in the county. The population density was . There were 7,353 housing units at an average density of . The racial makeup of the county was 98.81% White, 0.14% Black or African American, 0.24% Native American, 0.13% Asian, 0.01% Pacific Islander, 0.04% from other races, and 0.63% from two or more races. 0.62% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race.

There were 6,544 households, out of which 33.60% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 57.90% were married couples living together, 11.40% had a female householder with no husband present, and 27.20% were non-families. 24.40% of all households were made up of individuals, and 10.70% had someone living alone who was 65 years of age or older. The average household size was 2.49 and the average family size was 2.95.

In the county, the population was spread out, with 24.40% under the age of 18, 8.80% from 18 to 24, 30.00% from 25 to 44, 23.60% from 45 to 64, and 13.20% who were 65 years of age or older. The median age was 36 years. For every 100 females there were 97.90 males. For every 100 females age 18 and over there were 94.60 males.

The median income for a household in the county was $23,475 and the median income for a family was $30,278. Males had a median income of $26,770 versus $18,388 for females. The per capita income for the county was $12,337. About 19.10% of families and 23.10% of the population were below the poverty line, including 28.30% of those under age 18 and 21.60% of those age 65 or over.

Politics

Rockcastle county has only voted for a Democratic candidate for president during Civil War Reconstruction in 1868, 1872, 1876, and 1880. In all other elections since 1824, it has voted for the Republican, American, Constitutional Union, Whig Party, or National Republican candidate.

  Year                               Republican                                  Democratic                                  Third parties
  ---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ---------------
  style=“text-align:center;” |2020   style=“text-align:center;” |84.5% _6,576_   style=“text-align:center;” |14.6% _1,133_   0.9% _72_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2016   style=“text-align:center;” |83.8% _5,609_   style=“text-align:center;” |13.7% _915_     2.5% _167_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2012   style=“text-align:center;” |80.9% _5,028_   style=“text-align:center;” |17.7% _1,097_   1.5% _91_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2008   style=“text-align:center;” |75.8% _4,757_   style=“text-align:center;” |22.5% _1,410_   1.7% _107_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2004   style=“text-align:center;” |77.9% _4,804_   style=“text-align:center;” |21.4% _1,320_   0.7% _42_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2000   style=“text-align:center;” |76.1% _3,992_   style=“text-align:center;” |22.4% _1,174_   1.5% _81_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1996   style=“text-align:center;” |66.8% _3,106_   style=“text-align:center;” |25.0% _1,160_   8.3% _384_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1992   style=“text-align:center;” |67.1% _3,287_   style=“text-align:center;” |23.4% _1,144_   9.5% _466_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1988   style=“text-align:center;” |78.4% _3,880_   style=“text-align:center;” |21.0% _1,041_   0.6% _27_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1984   style=“text-align:center;” |79.7% _4,328_   style=“text-align:center;” |20.1% _1,089_   0.2% _11_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1980   style=“text-align:center;” |71.6% _3,543_   style=“text-align:center;” |27.2% _1,345_   1.2% _59_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1976   style=“text-align:center;” |64.4% _2,583_   style=“text-align:center;” |35.1% _1,408_   0.6% _22_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1972   style=“text-align:center;” |77.3% _3,437_   style=“text-align:center;” |21.8% _968_     0.9% _41_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1968   style=“text-align:center;” |67.0% _3,072_   style=“text-align:center;” |18.9% _868_     14.1% _648_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1964   style=“text-align:center;” |63.2% _2,829_   style=“text-align:center;” |36.4% _1,631_   0.4% _16_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1960   style=“text-align:center;” |77.7% _3,982_   style=“text-align:center;” |22.3% _1,141_   0.0% _0_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1956   style=“text-align:center;” |74.1% _3,787_   style=“text-align:center;” |25.7% _1,313_   0.2% _12_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1952   style=“text-align:center;” |72.4% _3,503_   style=“text-align:center;” |27.4% _1,326_   0.3% _13_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1948   style=“text-align:center;” |70.6% _3,236_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.6% _1,309_   0.8% _38_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1944   style=“text-align:center;” |74.0% _3,802_   style=“text-align:center;” |25.8% _1,327_   0.1% _7_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1940   style=“text-align:center;” |68.1% _3,536_   style=“text-align:center;” |31.8% _1,652_   0.1% _6_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1936   style=“text-align:center;” |71.2% _3,875_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.8% _1,568_   0.0% _0_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1932   style=“text-align:center;” |64.3% _3,577_   style=“text-align:center;” |35.5% _1,976_   0.2% _11_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1928   style=“text-align:center;” |81.0% _3,858_   style=“text-align:center;” |19.1% _908_     0.0% _0_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1924   style=“text-align:center;” |66.2% _2,712_   style=“text-align:center;” |31.2% _1,277_   2.6% _105_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1920   style=“text-align:center;” |71.0% _3,561_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.7% _1,438_   0.4% _19_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1916   style=“text-align:center;” |66.3% _1,932_   style=“text-align:center;” |33.2% _968_     0.5% _15_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1912   style=“text-align:center;” |43.2% _1,082_   style=“text-align:center;” |34.3% _859_     22.6% _566_

  : PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS RESULTS[6]

Communities

-   Brodhead
-   Livingston
-   Mount Vernon (county seat)

[1]

[2]

[3] http://www.kyenc.org/entry/r/ROCKC01.html

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: Rockcastle County, Kentucky

question: Highlight the key census 2000 statistics for Rockcastle County, Kentucky.

answer:
Rockcastle county is named after the Rockcastle River that runs through the area. The river itself got its name because of the majestic rocks cliffs around it.

The census of 2000 gives Rocastle County's population to be around 16,582 people with 7353 household units. The county is racially made up of 98% White, 0.14% Black, 0.24% Native American, 0.13% Asian, and 0.70% from other races.

The median income for a household in the county is $23,475 with males earning $26,770 and females $18,388. The per capita income for the county is recorded to be $12,337.


split: test

text:
Hello, I've never done anything like this before, but ive always wanted to try, so igot the above prompt generated. i hope you enjoy.

I've been everywhere, or at least that's what it feels like. However, out of all of the places I've been, one thing always seems to have one thing in common; everyone always ignores me, or at least until they see what I've got in my briefcase.
   Let me start by saying that I don't assume I'm immortal, however I've been around for a while. Never having a real origin story I tend to just make one up on the spot whenever needed, not that its ever mattered. You may have even met me at some point in your life, but you just cant remember. You could say it was my superpower, once you're not in physical contact or having a conversation with me; i might as well have never existed in the first place. As for the briefcase, at first glance it's nothing special; your normal brown rectangle with gold clasps. It's what's inside it  thats the important part; whatever the hell you want.
     You see I'm nothing but a simple merchant, people pay for what they want and I've always got it, all I have to do is name my price, maybe a bit of haggling but they almost always come around. Like any profession it has definitely had it's high points. There came a point in time where i would hang around hospitals and sell medicine to desperate patients who couldnt afford the hospitals price. I was making a profit of course, but I felt like i was saving money whilst doing it. Hell, i bumped in to a down on his luck man last week and all he wanted was a ring to propose to his sweetheart, sure enough I just happened to have a beautiful piece at least 3 times the quality of anything you could find in a jewelry store. I let him have it for an extreme fraction of its worth, all in a days work for super merchant right? You would think so, but sometimes the job has low points as well. I happened upon a house fire on my way home from a movie one night and being practically invisible i walked past any set boundries by the fire department to get a better look. I saw a man sitting on the ground by the curb, tears streaming down his face clearly distraught by losing everything. I opened my briefcase to see if there was any way i could help but the thing that this man wanted more than anything was just one more photo of his family. i looked around not seeing any women or children and my heart sank, they were still inside. Now I've never had anything close to a family or even an acquaintence so i cant even begin to imagine the pain this man was going through, i tapped him on the shoulder and he looked up at me in a daze i handed him the wallet sized photo and he took it without even looking, i apologized for his loss and i walked away. I've always wanted a family.
     Times got a little dark back in the day, countries racing each other to be number one, espionage more common than ever. I've sold a few launch codes here, a couple classified secrets there, but hey; if you got the chance to be a villain for a while and never be remembered for it wouldnt you? Nothing but a phase i guess you could call it.
     Flash forward to now, I've been on a bit of a vacation, got a little bored with business need some time away. Took an escape to New York City, "exciting" right? rented a roomy penthouse that overlooked the city thought i would treat myself. not feeling the lavish lifestyle i went to go see a film, couldnt tell you the name of it they all seem the same nowadays. As i was walking in I noticed a young woman: probably mid to late 20s naturally brown hair dyed blonde with piercing green eyes that you could see from a mile away. I couldnt keep my eyes off of her as she bought her ticket and went to her theatre, I ended up watching her more than the movie. I had never developed enough of a connection to have feelings for someone, and yet now After all of these years in an instant, i can never go back. I've spent so much being invisible to the world the world had become invisible to me. the movie ended and everyone hustled out of the theatre, i couldnt stop myself, I walked up to her and introduced myself; today i was Jack, from Maine, she told me her name; Alice. i told her that i had something she might be interested in as i pulled my briefcase around to open it, interest piqued she couldn't keep her eyes off of it. Empty, this has never happened before theres always been something there. could she already have everything? I apologized very obviously flustered and told her that i must have grabbed the wrong briefcase when i left the house this morning. To diffuse the awkwardness of the situation i asked her how she enjoyed her movie, hated it; i replied in agreement that personally i had a hard time concentrating on the film.  I thanked her for her time and apologized once again for taking up her time, she smiled and carried on her way. Not wanting the conversation to end i reached out to tap on her shoulder but it was too late, i was already forgotten, i covered by saying i thought she was somebody else and left. The loneliness of an eternity alone can really chip away at you over time, in all these years I've never opened this damned thing for myself, i didn't want to ruin the surprise. Well i figured out what i want and when I opened those clasps i wasnt the least bit surprised at what i saw. A silver revolver with one bullet. quite an elegant design actually, whoever put it in that briefcase has good taste. Now like I saod earlier; "i dont think im immortal".

Well, there's only one way to find out.

title: [FN] An adventure with a travelling salesman, a mysterious briefcase, and the phrase " everyone's ignoring me'

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: The narrator is a merchant who travels around a lot.

question: Where and when does this take place?

answer: It wasn't indicated but it was made known that the narrator took a vacation to New York at some point.

question: What does the narrator do as a profession?

answer: He is a simple merchant who sells what's mostly in demand in town.

question: Does the narrator have a family?

answer: From the story, it was mentioned that he felt lonely and that he had never had anything close to family.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is a simple merchant who sells what's mostly in demand in town. He's come across several people in need and carried out a trade with them. He's never had anything close to a family but has always wanted one. One day, he goes on a vacation and meets a woman at a movie. He's intrigued by her and starts up a conversation with her before she leaves.


text:
JAF (born JUAN ANTONIO FERREYRA; July 29, 1958 in Buenos Aires, Argentina) is an Argentine rock singer and guitar player, who was part of the hard rock band Riff in the mid-80s.[1]

Career

His first band was La Máquina Infernal. In 1979 he founded La Banda Marrón, with whom he played Deep Purple and Freddie King covers. He was invited to join Riff in the mid-80s,[2] as rhythm guitarist and singer. After recording an album with Riff (_Riff VII_, 1985)[3] and touring, JAF left the band and started a solo career. His first solo album _Entrar en vos_ was released in 1989 by BMG Argentina.[4] After his second LP _Diapositivas_ was released in 1990, JAF had the opportunity to play for a large audience opening for Eric Clapton and Bryan Adams at River Plate Stadium.

_Salida de emergencia_ (1991) was his third album. His fourth album: _Me voy para el sur_ came out in 1992, followed by _Hombre de blues_. JAF was part of the “Homage to Carlos Gardel”, organized held at Teatro Presidente Alvear, and organized by the Argentine Ministry of Culture. _Corazón en llamas_ (1995) was his sixth album. JAF next album _Número 7_ was released on his own label. In 2019 JAF and bassist Vitico re-activated Riff for a few shows.[5]

Discography

-   1989: _Entrar en vos_
-   1990: _Diapositivas_
-   1991: _Salida de emergencia_
-   1992: _Me voy para el sur_
-   1994: _Hombre de blues_
-   1995: _Corazón en llamas_
-   1997: _Número 7_
-   2003: _Un largo camino_
-   2005: _JAF en vivo_ (Cd+DVD, live)
-   2006: _Aire_
-   2007: _Uno +_
-   2009: _Supercharger_
-   2010: _JAF vivo!_ (Cd+DVD, live)
-   2013: _Canciones de amor_
-   2015: _Tributo a Riff VII_
-   2017: _Instinto_

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

title: JAF (musician)

question: How old was JAF when he started a solo career?

answer: JAF was about 31 when he released his first solo album.

question: Did JAF like Carlos Gardel?

answer: It seems like JAF liked Carlos Gardel since he was a part of the “Homage to Carlos Gardel.”


text:
RUSSELL COUNTY is a county located in the U.S. Commonwealth of Kentucky. As of the 2010 census, the population was 17,565.[1] Its county seat is Jamestown.[2] The county was formed on December 14, 1825, from portions of Adair, Cumberland and Wayne Counties and is named for William Russell.[3] It has been a prohibition or dry county, meaning that the sale of alcohol was prohibited, but in a referendum on Jan. 19, 2016, the county voted 3,833 to 3,423 to go “wet.”[4][5]

In 2015, the cities of Jamestown and Russell Springs became two of the first gigabit Internet communities in Kentucky with the completion of a state-of-the-art optical fiber network by the local telephone cooperative.[6]

Wolf Creek Dam is located in southern Russell County. The dam impounds Cumberland River to form Lake Cumberland, a major tourism attraction for the county. Wolf Creek National Fish Hatchery is also located in Russell County just below the dam.

Geography

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the county has a total area of , of which is land and (10%) is water.[7] The highest point is atop Dickerson Ridge in the extreme northern part of the county and the lowest point is along the Cumberland River.

Major highways

-   Cumberland Parkway
-   U.S. Route 127 in Kentucky
-   Kentucky Route 80

Adjacent counties

-   Casey County (north/EST Border)
-   Pulaski County (northeast/EST Border)
-   Wayne County (southeast/EST Border)
-   Clinton County (south)
-   Cumberland County (southwest)
-   Adair County (west)

Demographics

As of the census[8] of 2000, there were 16,315 people, 6,941 households, and 4,796 families residing in the county. The population density was . There were 9,064 housing units at an average density of . The racial makeup of the county was 98.34% White, 0.58% Black or African American, 0.12% Native American, 0.14% Asian, 0.02% Pacific Islander, 0.21% from other races, and 0.59% from two or more races. 0.86% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race.

There were 6,941 households, out of which 29.00% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 55.30% were married couples living together, 10.20% had a female householder with no husband present, and 30.90% were non-families. 28.00% of all households were made up of individuals, and 12.90% had someone living alone who was 65 years of age or older. The average household size was 2.33 and the average family size was 2.82.

In the county, the population was spread out, with 22.50% under the age of 18, 7.50% from 18 to 24, 27.50% from 25 to 44, 25.90% from 45 to 64, and 16.50% who were 65 years of age or older. The median age was 40 years. For every 100 females there were 93.90 males. For every 100 females age 18 and over, there were 91.00 males.

The median income for a household in the county was $22,042, and the median income for a family was $27,803. Males had a median income of $24,193 versus $18,289 for females. The per capita income for the county was $13,183. About 20.40% of families and 24.30% of the population were below the poverty line, including 30.80% of those under age 18 and 27.30% of those age 65 or over.

Politics

Russell County is part of the historically and currently rock-ribbed Republican bloc of southeastern Kentucky that also includes such counties as Clinton, Cumberland, Casey, Pulaski, Laurel, Rockcastle, Monroe, McCreary, Clay, Jackson, Owsley and Leslie. These counties were opposed to secession during the Civil War era, and consequently became and have remained intensely Republican ever since.[9] The last Democrat to win Russell County was Grover Cleveland in 1884, and the last Republican to not gain a majority was William Howard Taft in 1912 when his party was divided.

  Year                               Republican                                  Democratic                                  Third parties
  ---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ---------------
  style=“text-align:center;” |2016   style=“text-align:center;” |84.0% _6,863_   style=“text-align:center;” |13.4% _1,093_   2.7% _218_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2012   style=“text-align:center;” |80.2% _6,346_   style=“text-align:center;” |18.3% _1,445_   1.5% _118_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2008   style=“text-align:center;” |77.3% _5,779_   style=“text-align:center;” |21.0% _1,569_   1.7% _127_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2004   style=“text-align:center;” |76.8% _6,009_   style=“text-align:center;” |22.7% _1,772_   0.5% _40_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2000   style=“text-align:center;” |74.5% _5,268_   style=“text-align:center;” |24.2% _1,710_   1.4% _96_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1996   style=“text-align:center;” |62.2% _4,017_   style=“text-align:center;” |24.5% _1,582_   13.3% _857_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1992   style=“text-align:center;” |63.7% _4,641_   style=“text-align:center;” |26.8% _1,950_   9.5% _694_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1988   style=“text-align:center;” |74.3% _4,292_   style=“text-align:center;” |25.2% _1,455_   0.5% _30_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1984   style=“text-align:center;” |75.2% _4,476_   style=“text-align:center;” |24.3% _1,448_   0.5% _30_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1980   style=“text-align:center;” |68.7% _3,804_   style=“text-align:center;” |30.6% _1,693_   0.8% _43_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1976   style=“text-align:center;” |60.9% _2,882_   style=“text-align:center;” |38.1% _1,803_   1.0% _47_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1972   style=“text-align:center;” |76.5% _3,992_   style=“text-align:center;” |22.4% _1,169_   1.1% _59_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1968   style=“text-align:center;” |64.3% _3,035_   style=“text-align:center;” |20.4% _961_     15.4% _725_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1964   style=“text-align:center;” |59.0% _2,521_   style=“text-align:center;” |40.5% _1,729_   0.5% _23_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1960   style=“text-align:center;” |74.7% _3,636_   style=“text-align:center;” |25.3% _1,230_   0.0% _0_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1956   style=“text-align:center;” |70.3% _3,065_   style=“text-align:center;” |29.5% _1,284_   0.2% _9_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1952   style=“text-align:center;” |71.1% _2,913_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.6% _1,171_   0.3% _11_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1948   style=“text-align:center;” |66.2% _2,404_   style=“text-align:center;” |32.8% _1,191_   1.0% _36_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1944   style=“text-align:center;” |71.6% _3,019_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.1% _1,185_   0.4% _15_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1940   style=“text-align:center;” |70.8% _3,069_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.8% _1,250_   0.4% _15_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1936   style=“text-align:center;” |68.2% _2,688_   style=“text-align:center;” |31.3% _1,235_   0.5% _18_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1932   style=“text-align:center;” |59.1% _2,490_   style=“text-align:center;” |40.3% _1,699_   0.6% _27_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1928   style=“text-align:center;” |78.5% _3,028_   style=“text-align:center;” |21.3% _823_     0.2% _9_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1924   style=“text-align:center;” |64.6% _2,278_   style=“text-align:center;” |34.7% _1,224_   0.7% _24_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1920   style=“text-align:center;” |69.0% _2,587_   style=“text-align:center;” |30.9% _1,157_   0.2% _7_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1916   style=“text-align:center;” |59.4% _1,298_   style=“text-align:center;” |39.3% _859_     1.3% _29_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1912   style=“text-align:center;” |43.3% _785_     style=“text-align:center;” |39.4% _713_     17.3% _314_

  : PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS RESULTS[10]

Communities

-   Creelsboro
-   Jamestown (county seat)
-   Russell Springs

Notable people

-   Tara Conner, Miss Kentucky USA 2006, Miss USA 2006
-   Vernie McGaha, Former Kentucky State Senator
-   Doug Moseley, later a Kentucky state senator, was pastor of the Russell Springs First United Methodist Church from 1958 to 1960
-   Steve Wariner, country music singer and songwriter. Kentucky State Route 80 is named in his honor.
-   Jeff Hoover, Republican member of the Kentucky House of Representatives, elected Speaker in late 2016.

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5] http://www.russellcountynewspapers.com/editionviewer/?Edition=b7e46efc-0b0d-401a-84c6-1badcd7e9a8d

[6] https://duocounty.com/news-information/25-jamestown-russell-springs-columbia-among-first-in-kentucky-to-be-gigabit-internet-communities

[7]

[8]

[9] Sullivan, Robert David; “How the Red and Blue Map Evolved Over the Past Century”; _America Magazine_ in _The National Catholic Review_; June 29, 2016

[10]

title: Russell County, Kentucky

question: What does the text say about Kentucky Fried Chicken?

question: What does the text say about Russell County, Kentucky?

answer: Russell County is located in the U.S. Commonwealth of Kentucky with a population of 17,565 as of the 2010 census. Its county seat is Jamestown. The county was formed on December 14, 1825, from portions of Adair, Cumberland, and Wayne Counties. The county is named for William Russell. The major highways in Russell County are Cumberland Parkway, U.S. Route 127 in Kentucky, and Kentucky Route 80. Russell County is part of the Republican Bloc of southeastern Kentucky.

question: Summarize the most interesting facts about Russell County.

answer: Russell County has been a prohibition or "dry" county, meaning that alcohol sales were prohibited, but in a referendum on January 19, 2016, the county voted 3,833 to 3,423 to go "wet". In 2015, the cities of Jamestown and Russell Springs became gigabit internet communities in Kentucky (the first two). The highest point in the county is Dickerson Ridge in the north and the lowest point is along the Cumberland River. Wolf Creek Dam is located in southern Russell County, impounding Cumberland River to form Lake Cumberland, a major tourism attraction. Just below the dam is Wolf Creek National Fish Hatchery. Ten percent of the total area of the county is water. Russell County is part of a group of southeastern Kentucky counties that opposed the secession during the Civil War era. The last Democrat to win Russell County was Grover Cleveland in 1884. Notable Russell County residents include Miss Kentucky USA 2006 Tara Conner, Former Kentucky State Senator Vernie McGaha, and country music singer and songwriter Steve Wariner. Kentucky State Route 80 is named in Wariner's honor.

question: What does the text say about the demographics in Russell County?

answer: As of the 2000 census, there were 16,315 people, 6,941 households, and 4,796 families living in the county. The population was spread out, with 22.50% under the age of 18, 7.50% from 18 to 24, 27.50% from 25 to 44, 25.90% from 45 to 64, and 16.50% who were 65 years of age or older. The median age was 40 years. The racial makeup of Russell County was 98.34% White, 0.58% Black or African American, 0.12% Native American, 0.14% Asian, 0.02% Pacific Islander, 0.21% from other races, and 0.59% from two or more races. 0.86% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race. The median income for a household in the county was $22,042, and the median income for a family was $27,803. The per capita income was $13,183 and $20.40% of families and 24.30% of the population were below the poverty line.


text:
- Scream
- A golem with several questions

I don't think it's at all a spoiler for me to say... Good job, Kevin! You knocked that golem right out of the building! Yeah!

What? You don't think Kevin did that? But Kevin's a hero! A bloody icon!

Well, FINE, then! I guess we'll find out on Wednesday!

And no, I totally didn't reuse that "Ashley?!" panel, don't be ridiculous. I mean, if I HAD, it would have been perfectly valid, as it would make totally clear that this is Ashley's scene catching up with Elliot and Magus's, but I TOTALLY redrew it from scratch*.

* Nope

- EGS:NP in spite of clever girl velociraptors

question: Who knocked the golem out of the building?

answer: Kevin knocked the golem out of the building.

question: Did the author reuse the "Ashley?!" panel?

answer: Yes, the author reused the "Ashley?!" panel.

question: When will the readers find out the truth?

answer: The readers will find out the truth on Wednesday.

question: Does the golem have questions?

answer: Yes, the golem has several questions.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The author congratulates Kevin on defeating the golem, and tells their readers that they can find out what happens on Wednesday. The author claims they didn't reuse a panel, but later admits to it.


text:
The first test is garbonic gas which freezes on contact with skin. Passing out is an automatic fail and so is screaming. Those are some of the many rules I have to uphold.

I am in a circular room surrounded by pipes. A force field separates us from each other and the exit. Stepping too close sends out an agonizing shot of electricity. I am standing in the middle of one of the pipes, furthest from the force field as I can get. shaking and trembling, not knowing what to expect. The pipes are huge and green. They are over seven feet tall and four feet wide. More than wide enough for the gas to hit us.

Slowly I pull my long blonde hair out of its ponytail and shake it loose. It will give my neck much-needed coverage. Hair grows back but unfortunately necks do not. I grip my jacket with both hands and wring it in nervous anticipation.

The gas slowly leaks out and leaps at my exposed arms. I look down and my arm is filled with blue spots and it's so numb that I can barely move it much less feel it.

My first reaction is to scream, but instead I bite my tongue and quickly switch around my leather jacket blocking me from the chilling sting. My vision is going hazy and I can barely gasp for air and to make matters worse all I can hear are screams. I try to look around but whenever I turn, I feel my exposed skin freezing.

During the first round, we lost eight contestants. That's over half. I look around and see seven remaining, but only one of them is a girl. I give her a nod and a small smile hoping for a little camaraderie from a fellow female, but she just glares at me in return.

We gather back into our starting positions and wait for the second round to begin. The judges are playing with us and are enjoying it. With every blast of oxygen, I flinch, thinking that it's time.
I'm getting antsy and just want this part over with. I do a few jumping jack's trying to loosen my tight leather pants. Jumping is really hard considering that my boots are about six sizes too large.

I am so busy jumping that I don't notice the burn at first.
I just smell something like rotten eggs. I look down and my skin is turning purple. Before I can scream I clamp my mouth shut. I momentarily forget my plan and shield myself with my jacket while the pain takes over. I want to scream in agony but instead bite my lip as hard as I can without making myself bleed.

title: [MF] Warrior Trials: Prologue

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: The narrator is a female with long blonde hair in a ponytail.

question: Describe the setting.

answer: A circular room surrounded by huge pipes, with a force field separating the characters from the exit.

question: What effect does the gas have?

answer: The gas causes the narrator's arm to freeze, going numb and breaking out in blue spots.

question: What does the second round consist of?

answer: This isn't explicitly stated but it's possible whatever happens tht makes the narrator's skin turn purple.

question: What time period does the story take place in?

answer: The story seems to be set in the future, as implied by the presence of technology like force fields.

question: Why is the narrator being tested?

answer: That information can't be found.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator undergoes a trial in a circular room filled with pipes. Gas is released from the pipes, and it freezes the narrator's skin upon contact. Eight of the other contestants undergoing the trial die during the first round. The narrator waits for the second round to begin, then suddenly her skin turns purple and she screams in pain.


text:
 Chapter 1
-That Disease Called Death

One day, in the early fall of 2014, I was sitting in English class catching up on my long overdue homework. Now I’m sure you’d be able to classify me as the typical social butterfly in class; never shuts up, always has something to say, and everyone wants to hear it. If you assumed that, you would be right. My mom used to tell me the quietest she ever heard me is when I was a baby, but now I can't keep my mouth shut. I'm known pretty well here, mostly because I’m the kid that tried to steal the American flag from the flagpole just so he could get two packs of air heads(it was freshman year, I honestly don't know). The sad thing was I didn't even get the air heads.
Back to what I was saying, I was doing my work and talking to my friend Seymour. Now Seymour, him and I have been best friends since I can remember. He has always been there for me, even though him and I are very much opposites. Brown hair, chiseled jaw, slight stubble that just makes the ladies drop their panties and declare their love for him. Unlike most guys who have those traits, he isn’t a complete douche. He is actually the biggest comic book fan I’ve ever met in my life. Ask him about football, the boy will have no clue, but ask him what issue Captain America’s shield got an inch wider and he will light up like a Christmas tree. Seymour was going on about this girl he met the other week, and how she seemed generally interested in what his personality and blah blah blah, I wasn’t paying enough attention to remember the details. All I could think about was Dana Roberts. The only thing I loved more than strawberries covered in chocolate. Dana and I had been dating for almost two years, and it was our anniversary soon. I had already spent my paycheck on a huge Costco bear and some roses. All I could think about was her. Nothing else seemed important.
“Thomas are you even listening to me?” said Seymour.
“What...oh yeah Seymour I’m glad you found a girl with a heart the size of your Batmobile replica.” I said (personally I love Batman, but I just have to insult my friend, because no one else will).
“That’s the thing man, she is also a Batman fan! We were talking about The Long….”
Once more he lost my attention, but this time it wasn’t because of Dana. It was the police officers walking into the classroom. They were speaking to Mr. Thompson, my English teacher. He pointed at me.
Now for whatever reason, the first thing I thought was “Crap, they’ve found my weed” which is stupid because I’ve never smoked, nor do I own any marijuana.
They walked up to me and I could hear Seymour quickly end his sentence about who Bruce Wayne is under the cape and cowl.
“Are you Thomas Dickens?” said the slightly older looking one, with an expression on his face like he had just eaten some rotten candy.
“Yes sir, is something wrong?" I said, which is the universal translation for “I am about to get arrested”.
“We’re going to need you to come with us” said Old Cop
“Alright just let me…” I attempted to say.
“We’ve already gotten your things” said the younger looking one with a 80’s cop mustache and eyebrows that were thicker than Fat Albert himself.
“Please just come with us” said Old Cop
I followed them out of the classroom, where I knew my classmates sat, staring at the boy they thought was just arrested.
The walk in the hallways was awkwardly silent, with the only thing close to a conversation being the back and forth squeaks of Young Cop’s shoes. I soon realized we were heading to Principal Tyrels’ office.
 The office sat dead quiet, with the woman who usually works the reception desk not being present. The air had a feeling of dread, like the roof was going to collapse on us all.
The cops lead me in to a room off to the side of his office I had never noticed before (I’ve only been once, you remember the flagpole incident). The room was small and looked like an interrogation room from Law and Order but with furniture around it and not as dark and didn’t have a Did-You-Kill-Her vibe. I saw Principal Tyrels sitting next to a older woman. 50’s, 60’s maybe by the looks of her. She was balling her eyes out into Tyrels shoulder and he had his hand around her, comforting her I assumed. When the officers walked me in, Tyrels looked up from the woman and gave me a glance that can only be described by “very sad” The woman noticed this look and turned towards me. Now her look, can be described as….hmm well let’s say “Holy Shit”. She stood up quickly and continued to look at me. She just stood there, no movements, just...watching me. Now being an expert of communication, I gave them an “Um, you needed me Principal Tyrels?”
The woman ran towards me and wrapped her arms around me in an extreme bear hug that, if any tighter, would have made me look like an empty bottle of toothpaste. Her tears made my shoulder instantly soaked, which kind of upset me because Dana had gotten me this shirt last Christmas. Tyrels had his hand covering his face, and the wiped his eyes, maybe wiping away tears, I still to this day don’t know what it was.
“Thomas, your, um, grandmother is going to take you home now, we’ve put your things into her car” Said Tyrels.
“Grandmother?” I questioned. I have never known I had a grandmother, or at least an alive one. Mom had told me she had died a few years before I was born.
“Yes Thomas, your grandmother” said Tyrels
“Come on now Thomas, let’s...let’s get you home now dear, thank you Richard” said my supposed grandmother after lifting her head from my tear-drenched shoulder. How did she know Tyrels first name? Some teachers here don’t even know it. I'm pretty sure his children don't even know his name.
Seeing as I had no real choice, I followed my “Grandmother” out of the office and into the hallway leading to the parking lot. Old and Young Cop followed us until we reached the parking lot.
We arrived at her car, which looked like a Lexus but I didn’t really want to ask. I was too puzzled by everything to even think about stuff like that. My “Grandma” thanked Old Cop and Young Cop, and began to get into the car. Old Cop walked up to her and grabbed her shoulder. She turned in his direction and they locked eyes.
“Julie...I…” He attempted to say before she pulled him into a deep embrace and she began crying again. This lasted for maybe 45 seconds or so. Young Cop stood there with his head down. After they left this embrace, Old Cop spoke.
“Please, if you ever need anything just call me, you have my cell and work number”
“I will. Thank you Michael” She said, and then stepped into her car. She beckoned me to get inside, which I did after some hesitation. Old Cop stepped away and we began to back out of the parking lot. Once we were on the road, she gave me a look and turned her focus back on the street.
I watched trees and buildings pass, all the while, the woman never spoke a word. I would hear the occasional sniffle, but that was all
I wanted to start conversation, but something kept me quiet, I don’t know what. It was maybe 15 minutes later we turned into my neighborhood. I finally had to say something.
“Um...so can I ask who you are?”
Silence
“The Principal said you were my grandmother...is that true?
Once again, Silence
“Hello...”
“Please Thomas...just let me drive” she managed to say before erupting into tears.
That kept me quiet.
I saw my house approaching a few minutes later. Maybe half a dozen cars were in my driveway. My supposed grandmother pulled off the road into the patch of grass that sat in front of my house.
“Go inside Thomas, just please go inside” she whimpered.
“Are you not coming?” I asked.
“I...I can’t go into that house. Not with...Thomas please just go” She said. "You're so much like her...I just wish...please go".
I exited her car, and right as I shut the door she sped away. I was left in a grass patch confused as hell. I swore I could hear her crying, even as she drove farther away.
I began walking to my front door, but I didn’t want to go inside. Something was wrong, and I was afraid to find out what. It seemed every step I made sent me closer to the impending doom I was about to face. I made it to my front door and opened it and entered my house.
God, how I wish I had run away right then.
I entered into a room of peeping eyes. My Uncle Rick’s being the biggest. My relatives sat in my living room, staring at me like I had walked in with a sword through my chest. My Aunt Barb stood up and walked towards me and hugged me in an embrace that felt loving, but mixed with pity. The rest of my Mom’s three siblings joined her, along with my four cousins.
“Son...I...I’m so sorry. I wish..” My Uncle Ralph tried to say before I decided to find answers.
“Uncle Ralph why are you sorry? What wrong? Why are you all here?” So many questions ran through my head, but those were the most important ones.
I remember their next words like they were gunshots to the chest.
 I still bare their scars.
“Thomas...” Aunt Karen started to say before she walked into the kitchen crying.
“Thomas, earlier today...your mother she”
Bang
 “...She was hit by a drunk driver. She was..”
Bang Bang
“Killed instantly. I’m so so sorry”
Bang. A shot to the head.
I remember the things that happened next in blurs and pieces.

I remember pushing my family out of the way and making my way to my bedroom. I wasn't in control of myself, a vessel of nothing but anger and desperation that was trying to claw its way out of the darkness. I remember finding myself on my bed with my phone clutched next to my ear. Bright white letters on the top of it read “Mom”
Under those, letters spelling “Connecting”
Then a noise
Beeeep
Another
Beeeep
Again
Beeeep
The words that sealed her fate soon came, and they were like a sledgehammer.
“Hello, this is Kendal Dickens, I can’t get to the phone right now, please leave me a message and I’ll call you back later. Bye now!”
I fell into something that can only be described as blackness, where nothing was real and everything was moving in slow motion.
 I don’t remember anything after that.
 Well that isn’t true.
I remember the pain
I remember the blackness

 I once heard that death is a disease, which infects one person and then kills that person. After this it spreads to others around them, but it doesn’t kill them. It just destroys them. They are brought down to their lowest, their darkest moments, and may never recover. Then death kills them eventually, and spreads again. This process has been infinite. And there is no sign of a cure.
I believed maybe I had a vaccine, that maybe it wouldn’t spread to me quickly, that maybe I could hold it off for a while. Maybe, hopefully, death wouldn't give me a second glance as it passed by me.
I was wrong.
No one can prevent its spread
And now,
I’m infected

title: [RF] Bright Eyes And Black Hearts Chapter 1 -That Disease Called Death

question: What does the story say about the police coming to Thomas' school?

answer: Two police officers come to Thomas' school and enter the classroom. They are talking to his teacher, who then points to Thomas. One of the officers asks him if he is Thomas, and asks him to come with them. They go to the principal's office, and the principal hugs Thomas and tells him that his grandmother came to take him home. Thomas is confused as he does not know that he has a grandmother. When they get home, his aunt tells him da his mother was hit by a drunk driver and killed instantly. I

question: What does the story say about Thomas' feelings?

answer: Thomas is in love with Dana. They have been dating for almost two years, and all Thomas can think about is her. Nothing else seems important to him. Thomas is surprised to see the police officers entering the classroom. They tell him to come with them. He is a bit afraid that they come because he did something wrong. They get to the principal's office and she hugs Thomas and starts crying. Her tears made his shoulder soaked, which kind of upsets him because Dana gave him the shirt. He is puzzled when the principal says that his grandmother came to take him home. When they get home, he feels that something is wrong and is afraid to find out what. Then he is told that his mother was killed in a car accident. He is desperate.

question: What does the story say about Thomas' siblings?


text:
ELOY (EXQUISITE LADY OF THE YEAR) Awards is an award for women excelling in their field of work. It was established by Tewa Onasanya in 2009. [1][2]

During the ELOY awards which was held in Lagos Continental Hotel in 2018, the convener Tewa Onasanya revealed that the nominees were selected from different walks of life and that there has to be a vote-count before anyone is duly awarded. [3]

In 2019, the ELOY awards introduced a new development, in which the awards for the very first time would be celebrating a man, the category will celebrate a man or male-owned company, which empowers and employs women, the CEO, Tewa Onasanya stated that there was need to improve on the previous editions. [4]

Some notable winners of ELOY awards in time past, are Adesua Etomi, Nancy Isime including BBNaija's Cee-C, Cynthia Nwadiora amongst others.[5]

Categories

The following are the 2019 categories. [6]

-   ELOY Award for Agriculture
-   ELOY Award for Young Entrepreneur
-   ELOY Award for Digital Media Entrepreneur
-   ELOY Award for On-Air Personality
-   ELOY Award for Actress in association with FSDH Asset Management
-   ELOY Award for TV Personality
-   ELOY Award for Humanitarian Services
-   ELOY Award for Beauty Entrepreneur
-   ELOY Award for Corporate Social Responsibility
-   ELOY Award for Fashion Entrepreneur
-   ELOY award for Social Entrepreneur in association with FIRS
-   ELOY Award for Influence
-   ELOY Award for Hairstylist sponsored by LUSH HAIR
-   ELOY Award for ICT/Technology
-   ELOY Award for Entrepreneur in association with FIRS
-   ELOY Award for Entrepreneur in association with FIRS

Winners of ELOY Awards

Here are the winners of the ELOY awards in 2019:[7]

-   ELOY Award for Agriculture - Oyinye Okereke (The Fit Farmer), Landra Farms
-   Young Entrepreneur - Florence Chikezie, ReDahlia Entrepreneurs NG
-   ELOY Award for Digital Media Entrepreneur - Uche Pedro, Bella Naija
-   On-Air Personality of the Year - Datwarrigirl (Tomama), Naija FM
-   Actress of the year in association with FSDH Asset Management - Adesua Etomi-Wellington– SET UP
-   TV Personality of the year - Nancy Isime, HIP TV
-   ELOY Award for Humanitarian Services - Tola Makinde – MoRainbow Foundation
-   ELOY Award for Beauty Entrepreneur - Julia Onamusi, Jules Lifestyle
-   ELOY Award for Corporate Social Responsibility - Ifeyinwa Ugochukwu, Tony Elumelu Foundation
-   ELOY Award for Fashion Entrepreneur - Obis Oragwu, Wardrobe Merchant
-   ELOY award for Social Entrepreneur in association with FIRS - Chisom Ogbummuo, The Conversation Cafe
-   ELOY Award for Influence - Cynthia Nwadiora Cee-C
-   ELOY Award for Hairstylist sponsored by LUSH HAIR - Kemi Lewis, KLS NATURAL BEAUTY BAR
-   ELOY Award for ICT/Technology - Adeola Shasanya
-   ELOY Award for Entrepreneur in association with FIRS - Ebele Udoh, Brandbox Africa

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

title: ELOY Awards

question: Summarize information about ELOY awards.

answer: ELOY (Exquisite Lady of the Year) is an award for women who excel in their field of work and was established by Tewa Onasanya. Later, in 2019, they even launched a category for men where men or a male-owned company would be awarded for empowering and employing women.

question: Summarize everything about Tewa Onasaya's personal life.


text:
**20 Minutes**

**a silly short story by:**

**AFG**

* “When the light turns green, you go. When the light turns red, you stop. But what do you do when the light turns blue with orange and lavender spots?”*
					- Shel Silverstein, A Light in the Attic.

*Creation and creativity are a man’s most important achievements. Who are we, in the vast sea of human beings, if we are not able to produce what is in our soul? Who would we be, if we can’t give our life any importance? We would be a shell, a fish, unable to leave a trace behind, with no higher goals than that of temporary existence. We would be just consumers of experiences resulting from successions of events. Like a stone within gravel. Like dust within sand. We would fall into a machine-like automated routine behaviour that would make existence worthless, a copy of someone else’s life. Expression and knowledge must be the ultimate goals. Expression is what makes and defines us; it’s a tool; it is the colour in our painting and the timbre in our instrument. Knowledge is the content, the melody, the database, the variety, the power, the means and the end. They depend upon each other; knowledge amplifies expression, which is used in turn to display knowledge. It can’t be stressed enough how important these two are in order to enable us to be ourselves. Lacking any of those two would make a man an incomplete fool.*

These thoughts were floating in front of Sean’s head. Not in front as at the front of his brain, or mind, but literally floating in front of him. He could see them very clearly. He could also touch them and rearrange them in different order. After a moment of deliberation, Sean concluded that the 230 micrograms of LSD he dropped two hours before might have played a role in that.

*What the hell man! When did you become so pessimist... Why did pessimism become you. Man of Hell, dense of impulsive confusion and inconclusive contradictions. Impulsive contradictions dense of Hell’s inconclusive confusion.*

Sean wondered for some time whether he will be able to remember, at a later stage, the internal discussion he just had with himself; eventually he decided that it wasn’t that important after all. He took a deep breath and blew the thoughts away; suddenly they were gone, not only from his view but also from his memory, as if they never happened in the first place.

For the first time in few minutes, which could have been days, he looked at his surroundings and realised he did not know where he was. There were four white walls surrounding him. Actually, one of the walls, the one in front of him, was a door, decorated. The decorations on the door, he noted, were very pretty and quite sophisticated for a door. Flowers and exotic plants were flowing and moving in a slow wavy dance while murmuring something very similar to a mantra, which Sean recognised as an ancient Siberian chant, sung in honour of the souls of the dead warriors.

*A foreign bear walked into the jungle. Intrigued by the abundance and taste of foreign honey, he started collecting beehives to bring back to his wood and later sell to the other bears. The bee, noticing all his honey was being taken away, approached the bear. “Mr Bear, you are quite new here and may not be familiar with the local business of things. See, that honey belonged to my family for generations. I am not greedy though, we have a lot here and I am willing to share. Just I ask for a little portion of the money you will make by its sale, seems fair don’t you think? With an adequate share I can keep my production up and also feed my children” The bear looked at the bee, then, grinning widely, stomped on it with ruthless violence. “That will teach you a lesson, Bee.” Said the bear. “The industrial machine pays no duty”.*

Sean looked at his left; there was a sink on the wall. Why though? What was the purpose of the sink? What was his ultimate goal? Was he aware that even a collective conscience is nullified by the abyss of the universe? The sink did nothing but stare back at Sean who found that quite irritating.

*Oh well, suit yourself!*

While it was impossible to determine the real size of the room, the dynamics of the curvature of the lateral axis, whatever that was, was very appealing to the eyes of Sean. It reminded him of the “magic mirrors” attractions you can find in the fairs, the ones where you seem look thinner or fatter that what you actually are.

A solid sense of touch suddenly pervaded into Sean’s neuro-connections. There was something in his hands, something soft and white of cubical...no...cylindrical shape.

*Toilet paper... Oh fuck... I’m sitting on the toilet... Yeah that looks like it, I remember. I came here on Saturday. That was 10 minutes ago. In real time, not in acid time. There was this book where the guy could walk through time as if it was some kind of lane. He could walk linearly through his past but the tricky part was walking in the future. The lane would divide and multiply into infinite different lanes, and every division would sub-divide into infinite other lanes, and so on and so on, until the most infinitesimal moment of the future was in itself an infinite universe of choices and resolutions of random events.*

He wondered whether this was what chaos theory was about. He once started a book about it but, as usual, never finished it and got distracted by more immediate and important things. There were always more immediate and important things.

*Damn its so hard to keep my mind focused on anything! And this isn’t a good place where to spend my time. It goes away quite fast anyway, time, you never know when yours is over. It would be so pathetic to die on a toilet; my friends will always remember me as the one who died while taking a shit. Dull stupid end... no I need to go through this properly so that I can go on the bed and die like a respectful clean person.*

As if responding to the change of tone in his train of thoughts, the walls shifted from a concave motion to a convex one. Having realised his situation, a choking feeling of oppression fell on Sean. The worry of not succeeding in his toilet task served as a catalyst for an adrenaline rush which brought few instants of clear focused reflection.

*Ok ok, looks like I am in the correct position...yeah...I managed to pull down my trousers appropriately... good good... Im very good... so now, did I let go already? Well let’s assess that... Yes! I went that far, now it’s the hard part, focus here Don’t fuck this up! Do an effort and then you can relax! I wont die here, nonono, maybe I will survive this, how hard can it be?!*

With great effort, Sean engaged in the standard procedures that apply to these kinds of situations. He was relieved to see that his body was agreeing with his mental commands and that anxiousness slowly gave way to more controlled movements and regular breathing. Things seemed to go well; even the room relaxed and went back to its concave reassuring form. Sean was very happy of his progresses but unfortunately he could not avoid looking into the warp-hole that opened in the floor beneath him.

The hole was more like an edgy white tunnel flowing towards an unseen distant location. Sean recognised the floor-mat patterns drawn at the sides of the tunnel as he felt the attractive power that was dragging his mind inside the tunnel. He did not ask himself where did the tunnel lead, or if it would have been safe to go inside. He just knew that the ancient gods of the universe where calling him to see and discover the mysteries of life. An “Om” chant, like those sung by Tibetan monks, was resonating loud in the air as the tunnel became an all-encompassing vision. Suddenly time and space became alien concepts. What did they mean? Existence was the only dimension. Gold, yellow and red polygonal forms were beating in front of him, flashing a majestic mandala that radiated solemnity. In that moment Sean forgot who he was. His name and identity made no sense to him in that moment, his life and his job looked like a distant event no more concerning him. Eventually his ego was completely dissolved in face of the great truths that were shown to him.

*I now know the secrets of life and death. I know about the texture of matter and the great laws of geometry that bind elements together. I know about the chemical nature of the soul. I am touched by the truth! I am enlightened!*

As fast and abruptly as those truths appeared to him, they went. The tunnel faded and the patterns were now again just bi-dimensional drawings on the mat. No trace of those truths appeared to be left in Sean’s memory. After a moment of disorientation, Sean re-assessed his situation.

*Am I still sitting on the toilet? I got carried away. I still haven’t finished my business here. I should get back to it so that I can get out. Let’s see...how far did I get? Its so easy to lose track of things, I have done psychedelics before but you are never prepared enough for it. Why did I come here now, I am at the peak of hallucinations, I could have waited a couple of hours, it would have been much easier.*

In the same time as Sean was re-assessing his situation, a part of Sean’s mind was wondering at how such a remarkably clear and accurate analysis he could perform in such a moment. Simultaneously, another part of Sean was fantasizing about a future where mind-recording could be possible so that people touched by truths could actually remember them and see them in a playback. A fourth part of Sean was arguing that it was all bullshit anyway, how could he find the answers to reality in the surreal world? While all of this was happening, a further parallel part of Sean was rising to the foreground of his thoughts. However, this one specific part of Sean felt like a different, older, alternative Sean, maybe coming from one of his past previous lives or from one of the infinite lanes of future. In fact, Sean felt this presence in his mind as some kind of external intrusion, not belonging to himself. The presence laughed in Sean’s mind and ridiculed him for the misery of his condition.

*“Look at you, loser! You wanted to play now look where you are stuck in! You make me laugh, you are wasting your time sitting here rather than making the most out of your experience. Don’t’ you know you are in charge of shaping your trip and learn your lessons?”*

*Well, I am trying, certainly does not look like I am learning any lesson from here.*

*“What happened to re-experience music and art and re-discover your senses? This is ridiculous!”*

*Fuck you, what do you want anyway?*

*“Pull your shit together”*

*Yeah you might want to change your choice of words given the situation*

*“How long you have been here?”*

*It’s been a long journey*

*“You know time isn’t linear”*

*Who cares? Besides, why do I entertain a conversation with my mind? That is something schizophrenics do. This just makes me waste my time even further. This situation is ridiculous enough, I don’t need your predictable clichés. I need to retrace the steps I have been doing up to now and keep going down that route until I am out of here. I need to try to suppress distractions and also suppress meditations about distractions. Its no point asking myself why I get distracted as it happens. What’s the point? Why do we say that there should be a point? Why not a line? Or a plane?*

Sean took a deep long breath. Waves of hot and cold were flowing through Sean’s body. This made him think of sinewaves, how phase is determined by time. He then thought that he could simply stop these temperature fluctuations by visualising a similar sinewave with opposite phase, contrasting the temperature change caused by the first sinewave. It did work. Once again, he tried to get back to his main objective.

*All right. I have no means of knowing whether I have done this properly so I will use the whole roll. Ok now... what am I trying to do? Why do I keep losing the track, this roll is over so this means...flush! Good man! Now what? Ok what would I normally do now? Do I do it normally? Why should it be normal as long as it works? Intelligent people think outside the box. Think of logic instead of protocol. I am definitely sure that I am supposed to wash my hands, but the sink is too far, how do I proceed? If I have to stand up I should pull up my trousers (good call there! I almost forgot), hopefully I’ll be lucky and they will behave the way they should.*

Standing up was like a cold shower for Sean. As soon as he was on his feet, he felt light and relatively clear-minded. He felt more than happy about the fact that he would not have to spend the rest of his life sitting on a toilet. He laughed like a child, with pure innocent joy. Sean stopped washing his hands only when he felt that a conventional time had been spent doing such activity.
As he lost most of his sense of touch, the water seemed to run through his fingers without wetting them. He did not bother to dry them because they were fine that way. Sean unlocked the door and hurried back to the room where he originally came from.

The room was smoky, strangely lighted. His friend, Javier, was sitting on the double bed smiling at the ceiling. “Hey, you are back! You were gone for ages dude”, said Javier two minutes after Sean entered the room. “Where have you been?”. Sean took his time to respond. He asked himself why on earth it had been so hard to get out of there. How long did it take? And how could so many things happen in such a delimited space. What an adventurous journey.
Then again, nothing really happened. Nothing really mattered.
“All it happened, is that I took a shit” said Sean after thinking a little bit more. As he said it, he realised the truth of that statement.

After all, that was all that happened.

title: [HM] - 20 Minutes; A brief silly story about an LSD trip. (Early draft please comment)

question: What does the text indicate about where the author comes from?

answer: Based on the spelling, the author is from a nation that uses British English. Some words that indicate this are recognised, colour, visualising, and realised. These are all British English spellings but they do not reveal exactly where the author is from.

question: What does the text say about the protagonist's history in rehabilitation?


text:
The 2019–20 LIGA IV BACĂU was the 52nd season of Liga IV Bacău, the fourth tier of the Romanian football league system. The season is scheduled began on 24 August 2019[1][2][3]and was scheduled to end in June 2020, but was suspended in March because of the COVID-19 pandemic in Romania.

The season was ended officially on 26 July 2020 after a championship play-off match between the teams in first place in the Bacău and Valea Trotușului Series.[4][5]

Team changes

To Liga IV Bacău

RELEGATED FROM LIGA III

-   —

From Liga IV Bacău

PROMOTED TO LIGA III

-   CSM Bacău

Competition format

The league consisted of 24 teams divided into 2 series of 12 teams and will play a regular season, followed by a play-off and play-out. The regular season is a double round-robin tournament. At the end of regular season, the first 3 ranked teams in each series will qualify for championship play-off and the winner will participate for promotion play-off to Liga III. Teams ranked 4 to 10 from each series will participate in the play-out and the last four will relegated. Teams ranked 11-12 at the end the regular season in each series will relegated to Liga V.

In the play-off will participate only teams that have legal personality and hold C.I.S.(Certificate of sports identity) issued by the Ministry of Youth and Sport and teams with at least one group of children and juniors (U19, U17, U15, U13, U11).[6]

League tables

Bacău Series

{{#invoke:Sports table|main|style=WDL |source=AJF Bacău

|team1=DIN|team2=FCM|team3=GÂR|team4=FIL|team5=NEG|team6=VNB|team7=SIR|team8=ZOR|team9=RAP|team10=FLA|team11=CLE|team12=GAU

|result1=PLOF

|update=8 March 2020 |win_DIN=14|draw_DIN= 0|loss_DIN= 1|gf_DIN=70|ga_DIN=10 |win_FCM=13|draw_FCM= 1|loss_FCM= 1|gf_FCM=71|ga_FCM=13 |win_GÂR=12|draw_GÂR= 1|loss_GÂR= 2|gf_GÂR=46|ga_GÂR=19 |win_FIL= 8|draw_FIL= 3|loss_FIL= 4|gf_FIL=59|ga_FIL=29 |win_NEG= 8|draw_NEG= 0|loss_NEG= 7|gf_NEG=34|ga_NEG=34 |win_VNB= 7|draw_VNB= 2|loss_VNB= 6|gf_VNB=46|ga_VNB=34 |win_SIR= 6|draw_SIR= 2|loss_SIR= 7|gf_SIR=40|ga_SIR=40 |win_ZOR= 4|draw_ZOR= 2|loss_ZOR= 9|gf_ZOR=22|ga_ZOR=50 |win_RAP= 3|draw_RAP= 3|loss_RAP= 9|gf_RAP=16|ga_RAP=42 |win_FLA= 3|draw_FLA= 2|loss_FLA=10|gf_FLA=21|ga_FLA=57 |win_CLE= 2|draw_CLE= 1|loss_CLE=12|gf_CLE=25|ga_CLE=68 |win_GAU= 1|draw_GAU= 1|loss_GAU=13|gf_GAU=17|ga_GAU=71

|status_DIN=Q

|name_FCM=FCM Bacău |name_DIN=Dinamo Bacău |name_GÂR=Voința Gârleni |name_FIL=Filipești |name_NEG=Negri |name_SIR=Siretul Bacău |name_VNB=Viitorul Nicolae Bălcescu |name_ZOR=Zorile Faraoani |name_RAP=Rapid Bacău |name_FLA=Flamura Roșie Săscut |name_CLE=Aripile Cleja |name_GAU=Gauss Bacău

|show_limit=5 |class_rules = 1) Points; 2) Head-to-head points; 3) Head-to-head goal difference; 4) Head-to-head goals scored; 5) Head-to-head away goals scored; 6) Goal difference; 7) Goals scored. |res_col_header=Q |col_PLOF=green1 |text_PLOF =Qualification to championship play-off }}

Valea Trotușului Series

{{#invoke:Sports table|main|style=WDL |source=AJF Bacău

|team1=CUR|team2=OIT|team3=MOI|team4=ZEM|team5=BÂR|team6=UZU|team7=CĂI|team8=DOF|team9=MĂG|team10=URE|team11=VUL|team12=BRA

|result1=PLOF

|update=8 March 2020 |win_CUR=13|draw_CUR= 2|loss_CUR= 0|gf_CUR=77|ga_CUR=11 |win_OIT=11|draw_OIT= 3|loss_OIT= 1|gf_OIT=57|ga_OIT=12 |win_MOI= 9|draw_MOI= 3|loss_MOI= 3|gf_MOI=53|ga_MOI=27 |win_ZEM= 9|draw_ZEM= 2|loss_ZEM= 4|gf_ZEM=51|ga_ZEM=34 |win_BÂR= 7|draw_BÂR= 5|loss_BÂR= 3|gf_BÂR=54|ga_BÂR=38 |win_UZU= 8|draw_UZU= 1|loss_UZU= 6|gf_UZU=39|ga_UZU=32 |win_CĂI= 5|draw_CĂI= 2|loss_CĂI= 8|gf_CĂI=34|ga_CĂI=52 |win_DOF= 5|draw_DOF= 1|loss_DOF= 9|gf_DOF=33|ga_DOF=55 |win_MĂG= 4|draw_MĂG= 1|loss_MĂG=10|gf_MĂG=24|ga_MĂG=51 |win_URE= 4|draw_URE= 0|loss_URE=11|gf_URE=36|ga_URE=69 |win_VUL= 3|draw_VUL= 2|loss_VUL=10|gf_VUL=36|ga_VUL=51 |win_BRA= 0|draw_BRA= 2|loss_BRA=13|gf_BRA=18|ga_BRA=80

|name_CUR=Viitorul Curița |name_OIT=Voința Oituz |name_MOI=Moinești |name_ZEM=Gloria Zemeș |name_BÂR=Bârsănești |name_UZU=UZU Dărmănești |name_DOF=Dofteana |name_CĂI=Căiuți |name_MĂG=Măgura Cașin |name_URE=Viitorul Urechești |name_VUL=Vulturul Măgirești |name_BRA=Bradul Mânăstirea Cașin

|status_CUR=O

|show_limit=5 |class_rules = 1) Points; 2) Head-to-head points; 3) Head-to-head goal difference; 4) Head-to-head goals scored; 5) Head-to-head away goals scored; 6) Goal difference; 7) Goals scored. |res_col_header=Q |col_PLOF=green1 |text_PLOF =Qualification to championship play-off }}

Championship play-off

|}

_Viitorul Curița_ won the 2019–20 Liga IV Bacău and qualify for promotion play-off.''

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: 2019–20 Liga IV Bacău

question: What does the text say about how to earn a promotion from Liga IV Bacău?

answer: There are two series in the league, each containing 12 teams. The series proceeds in a double round-robin format. In the end, the top three teams from each series face off against each other in a championship play-off. The winner gets to participate in a promotion play-off to Liga III.

question: What does the text say about La Liga?


text:
**Part I**

Jim Hudson, stricken with an awful hangover, dragged himself into the kitchen and plopped himself onto the granite bar-stool. He let out a long sigh and ruffled both his hands through his hair.
“Good morning, honey,” his wife, Carrie, said lovingly as she served him a stack of pancakes and fresh pot of steaming coffee, “how are you feeling?”
“Like absolute shit. I think I had just one too many Whiskey Sours last night; you know how I can get carried away. What time is it?”
“8:15...I’m gonna be late for work. Finish up your coffee and pancakes; that should help that headache of yours. Make sure you feed Scrappy, Rags, Cupid, Cleo, Jar Jar, Rex, Neptune, and Onyx. And by the way, have you seen Waffles around lately? I thought I heard him meowing near the back door last night and spent about a half-hour looking for him.”
“Do you think I keep track of each and every one of these cats?,” Jim said with a smirk, “I was so plastered last night, I couldn’t even see my own feet.”
“Oh well,” said Carrie, “he’ll turn up...they always do. I gotta run! Don’t forget to feed the cats!”
“Yeah, yeah...see ya later.”
Carrie scurried out the door as Jim dug his knife into his last pancake. He cautiously sipped on his coffee, looking across the table at one of the cats licking its own paw. “Get off my table,” he hissed, making a shooing motion with his hand. Meanwhile, the titter-tatter of a lively golden retriever reached the room. “Hey, Buddy!” Jim’s face lit up, as he greeted the massive canine, patting its head as its tail swung from side to side. He got up and carelessly dropped his dish and utensils into the sink. He dumped the rest of his coffee down the drain, filled his mug with tap water, and washed 400 milligrams of ibuprofen down his gullet. He then grabbed a box of Fancy Feast from the cabinet and dumped an uneven amount of the mix into each of the nine bowls against the wall. Seconds after the sound of the pellets hitting the metal came a legion of cats, colliding into each other as they scurried towards each of their respective bowls. Jim scowled in disgust as he seized his coat and headed out the back door towards the house of Rupert Peabody, the Hudsons’ next-door-neighbor. The door creaked shut as the sound of the cats’ collared bells resonated throughout the empty house.

**Part II**

I was only twelve years old at the time. The teacher had arranged for our class to go on a fieldtrip to the zoo, which we were all very excited about. Nobody was as excited as I, though; everybody in the grade knew that Rupert Peabody was the animal-freak. We all darted to the school bus, each and every one of us wanting to sit near the back. The whole trip consisted of my classmates asking me about the animals we were about to see. It was my hour of fame; I was an expert on this subject and everyone knew it. Some kids wanted to see the elephants, and others wanted to see the birds. One of them finally asked me what I was most excited to see. “The cheetah,” I answered with great pride. I had always believed that in my past life, I was a cheetah. The idea of the cheetah, to me, was courage, strength, and majesty. My whole childhood, I had connected with this animal more than any human I’d met. This was the day I was finally going to meet one in person, and nothing was going to stop me.
	After about 45 minutes of walking in an orderly line through the small, caged-up world, it was time for lunch. We had seen the monkeys, the turtles, the birds, the giraffes, and the frogs, but still no cheetah. We sat at a bench in the plaza located in the center of the zoo, as my classmates dug into their homemade sandwiches and marveled over the delightful day they were having. I was too impatient to eat, so I told the teacher I wasn’t feeling well and ran to the Port-o-Potty a few yards away. I started towards the bathroom, waited for the teacher to glance the other way, and bolted towards the cages. I sprinted down the winding dirt path, my heart pounding and my lips stretched from ear to ear.
My heart stopped for a split second as my eyes locked with the magnificent beast lounging on a large rock a few feet in front of me. He had been waiting for me; he was calling me towards him. I stepped closer towards the cage and he stood up off the rock. At this time, whatever logic or reason I had in my brain must have melted through the pores of my skin, as I ignored the huge sign that read “DANGER: DO NOT TOUCH THE CHEETAH” and stuck my arm between the bars of the cage. The creature leapt through the air at the speed of light and snapped at my right forearm; my entire hand was detached in an instant. I fainted at the sight of my own blood spewing from my severed limb.
It has been 13 years since that day, and not only was I left with just one functioning arm, but with a life-altering mental illness as well. Ever since the incident, I have had the burning desire for revenge pulsing through my body. After about a year of this feeling haunting my life, I took out my anger on the next closest thing to the cheetah: a stray cat. I killed the innocent animal...killed it with my bare hand. My crime felt rewarding; it was a brilliant rush, like a drug. As time progressed, I began to kill more and more cats. It became an addiction – an addiction that keeps me awake at night. Now my habit is worse than ever, and it is impossible to quit. I’ve accepted my condition as something I simply must live with.
I’ve recently moved to a new town, in which my neighbor despises cats. Ironically, his wife owns many. It seems as if the universe might be acting in my favor, for once.

**Part III**

Jim stumbled over the minuscule step leading to his neighbor’s backdoor.
“You’d think that I would’ve learned to step over that thing by now,” he hollered to Rupert, who was standing in the kitchen, cutting the crust off his freshly prepared ham and cheese sandwich.
The sound of the knife (which was screwed onto some strange apparatus connected to his stump of a wrist) hitting the ceramic plate sent chills down Jim’s spine. He looked around the kitchen with a smirk, noting each and every piece of dirty kitchenware dispersed throughout the room. He knew he was in the presence of a maniac, but he didn’t care; there was an eerie sense of comfortability in the room.
“Hello Jim,” Rupert said calmly, “what brings you here so early?” He unscrewed the knife from his stub and dropped it on the floor in a nonchalant manner.
“Your little stunt went noticed a little sooner than I thought it would. I don’t know how she keeps track all those fuckin’ furballs. You killed...what was its name...Waffles? Yeah, you killed Waffles last night. Question: when you do this...’thing’ of yours, do you actually need to slaughter the cats? I mean, it would be a lot better on my end if you did something that seemed a little more natural...like with poison or something. She’s gonna get really suspicious, really quickly.”
“Unfortunately, physical contact with the animal is what I need to satisfy the urge,” Rupert sighed. His pupils constricted as he bit down on his sandwich in frustration.
Jim let out a long breath as he wiped his palm down his face. “I’m...having second thoughts about this.”
“We had a deal, Jim,” Rupert said sternly, almost choking on a piece of food.
“Ok, Ok, I know. Just try to do this a little more...tastefully, if that makes any sense. I have to go.”
 Jim walked out the door in a mild panic. He started back towards his house but had to stop halfway once he noticed he was at a loss of breath. Breathing heavily, he felt a cold sweat forming at his forehead. His heart became a woodpecker banging on the inside of his chest, trying to escape. His vision became blurry as he bent over, hands against his stomach, and vomited.
“Jim, Jim, wake up!” Jim’s body jolted upward at the sound of his wife’s voice. He hadn’t remembered going to bed, let alone walking into his own room. There was a sliver of light showing through the curtains next to his bed. He rubbed his eyes at the sight of the red LED clock that read 5:32. Life around him seemed to move in slow motion while he woke up until his vision focused on the tears streaming down his wife’s face, like heavy rain against a windshield.
“What’s wrong?,” he asked with more emotion than he had felt in a while.
Carrie, speechless, pointed a shaking finger towards the kitchen. Jim shot out of bed and ran to the kitchen to see the sliding door destroyed and the tiled floor layered with shards of glass. He grabbed a butcher knife from the drawer underneath the sink and tiptoed towards the dining room. His face grew white as he turned his head around the corner. The knife slipped through his numb fingers and hit the floor. The dining table was set with plates and silverware at each seat. In the center of the table laid a large bowl filled with an array of feline carcasses. A folded index card stood on its edges at the head of the oval table. Written in blood, the index card read: “Tasteful Enough?”

title: The Neighbor (Genre: Thriller, Horror)

question: Why does Rupert kill cats?

answer: Until Rupert was 12 he was an animal freak. He loved cheetahs in particular. On a visit to the zoo, he took a while to find the cheetah. When he did, he ignored the notice warning people of how dangerous the cheetah was. He stuck his hand into the cage. The cheetah bit his hand clean off. After that Rupert had a burning need for revenge which he took out on all cats.

question: Why did Rupert leave the dead cats spread out on the dining room table?

answer: Jim hates his wife's cats so he has made a deal with Rupert to get rid of them. When the first cat disappears, Jim becomes alarmed and asks Rupert to kill them off more tastefully. Rupert responds by killing all the cats and laying them "tastefully" across the table.


text:
[]
Photo: Getty Images, Jessica Ramos for State Senate

People were hanging onto fences and standing on the Queensboro Bridge to get a glimpse of the Bernie Sanders rallyon Saturday, which drew a total of nearly 26,000 people — thousands more than the park could fit. It had the air of a party, but not exactly celebratory, yet — the atmosphere was more charged, as attendees anticipated a big moment. When “Back in Black” by AC/DC eventually played on the loudspeakers, to signal Sanders’s time to speak, the crowd went nuts, doing air drums and screaming for the senator from Vermont, who wore a gray sweater and carried a manila envelope.

The song choice, as well as the event’s tagline — #BerniesBack — functioned as a nod to the 78-year-old’s recovery from aheart attack on October 2 that seemed to throw his campaign’s viability into question. But the event was much more than a Sanders comeback. After four years of debate over the makeup of his base, which has been characterized as white and male thanks to a phalanx of obnoxious online supporters known as “Bernie Bros,” the rally solidified a wildly different image of the coalition behind Sanders in 2020. The senator was flanked by a set of young, progressive politicians that don’t look anything like the man of the hour — that’s if you even believe there was a man of the hour, and not a woman: Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the 30-year-old Latina congresswoman from the Bronx. Attendees were cheering as much for Sanders as for Ocasio-Cortez, who introduced the candidate, and whose endorsement has signaled that the grassroots movement behind Sanders comprised in large part by working-class women of color is his biggest asset.

Before Sanders addressed the audience, Ocasio-Cortez characterized him as the man who had introduced her, with his own presidential run in 2016, to movement politics. She went even further back, connecting his health care, housing, and social justice agendas in Congress to her own life: “When I was a baby, my family relied on Planned Parenthood for prenatal care. Then, Bernie Sanders fought for me,” she said. “When the federal government decided to discriminate and abandon my queer family and friends, Bernie Sanders was putting his career on the line for us.” “Preach, Alex!” someone yelled.

It was an effort to recast Sanders’s ideology as a democratic socialist through the lens of Ocasio-Cortez’s identity as the child of working-class Puerto Ricans — likely because the two concepts are routinely pitted against each other. Ocasio-Cortez’s endorsement of Sanders, along with Representative Ilhan Omar and, presumably, Representative Rashida Tlaib, “broke certain people’s brains,” in the words of a friend, because some pundits have fixated on Sanders struggle to appeal to voters of color, and to women, since he is neither.

Sanders has admitted to rethinking his campaign’s approach to both race and gender since 2016. While supporters like Ocasio-Cortez offer counter-evidence to the Bernie Bro phenomenon, they also resist being framed solely by superficial discussions of who they are. “As a woman of color, why back an old white guy?” Ocasio-Cortez wasaskedat the rally by a CBS correspondent. The implication was that, as a woman, she would be more likely to endorse a female candidate like Elizabeth Warren, who is also running a progressive campaign. Instead, Oscasio-Cortez answered the question in terms of how Sanders serves her interests as a Latina, as a woman, and as a working person. “I’m actually very excited about this partnership,” she replied, “because it shows what we have to do in this country. We have to come together across race, across gender, across generations.”

Ocasio-Cortez was introduced by Tiffany Cabán, the queer Latina public defender who nearly upset the Queens district attorney race. Before Cabán, Sanders was endorsed by a host of New York politicians of color, including State Senators Jessica Ramos and Julia Salazar, part of the wave of challengers whose victories helped win Democratic control back in the state legislature in 2018. Before that, there was San Juan Mayor Carmen Yulín Cruz, and former Ohio State Senator Nina Turner, both Sanders campaign co-chairs. They were all there to support Sanders’s candidacy, but their presence signaled that the battle he is nominally leading is also being waged far beyond him. Seeing these women one after the other was a glimpse of the future they were all organizing for. “This is not just about electing a president,” said Winnie Wong, a senior Sanders campaign adviser. “This is about building a long term social movement to actually make sure that we elect 100 state senators like Jessica Ramos. That we have 100 more congresswomen like AOC. That’s the political revolution.”

The women who spoke before Sanders emphasized that he had laid groundwork for grassroots, ground-up change that they would be carrying on long after his candidacy — a version of his “Not me, us” campaign slogan. Supporters in the crowd felt the same. “Bernie’s for working people, and that’s what I like,” said Carla, a 17-year-old Latina from southern Queens whose parents are both airline employees. She will turn 18 days before New York’s primary election, and intends to cast her first-ever electoral ballot for Sanders. When asked about whether she had qualms over voting for an old white guy, she rolled her eyes. “Like, my father’s an old white guy!” she said. “He’s okay! We welcome anyone into the movement, anyone who is on our side.”

The Bernie Rally Felt So Much Bigger Than Bernie

question: In what U.S. state is Bernie Sanders a senator?

answer: Vermont.

question: Who introduced Bernie Sanders at the rally?

answer: Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

question: What political party does Bernie Sanders identify himself with?

answer: Democratic socialism.

question: Who is Winnie Wong?

answer: She is a senior campaign advisor for Bernie Sanders.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: This article reports on a 2020 Bernie Sanders political rally. It highlights comments made by congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who introduced Sanders at the rally, and who used her own story to illustrate why people should support Sanders and his policies. Sanders, having garnered a reputation for a following of white men during his presidential run in 2016, was shown public support by a much broader demographic in this rally.


text:
_AN: Born from a conversation with Schattengestalt, this is just a bit out there. Enjoy it if you will. Not beta'd unless Yen or someone else lets me know in a PM what the issues are.
_

_Ree_

_Wanted: Head of Hufflepuff House_

Albus Dumbledore settled back in his seat, his gaze drifting over his professors. For a moment he contemplated Severus Snape, his youngest professor, for the position that had just opened. True, Severus had only been teaching for three years, but the Potions Master had shown his ability to work under the worst circumstances. Hard work would be one of the main characteristics that would be needed to fill the position; to toil under any circumstance and to be loyal would also be welcome ones. Severus had shown all three of those traits.

It had happened in Severus' first year, the year that Voldemort was defeated. When the aurors had come to arrest his professor, Severus had collected his marking along with his writing supplies and had calmly walked out of Hogwarts. _'When they asked if he thought he could really do any writing while the Dementors were nearby, he had looked them in the eye and told them that fear wouldn't change his marking.'_

At Severus' trial Dumbledore had been surprised when an auror handed him a packet of marked essays. It was the way Severus had gracefully accepted being incarcerated and that he had insisted on completing his marking coupled with the quiet, respectful way he had sat chained into the prisoner's chair that had made Albus' task of freeing his professor that much simpler. Even Malfoy had sneered and scolded the Wizengamot. _'I was able to convince them Severus was a spy, but the thing that won them over to the idea that he was loyal to the side of the Light was the way that he accepted the possibility of punishment. They took it as a show of remorse, of understanding consequences of actions that they could not, or would not, believe that a loyal Death Eater could feel. So, they released him.'_

"We have one last thing that needs to be handled." Albus ran a hand down his beard. "As you can see, Professor Sprout was not able to join us. Due to a family emergency, she will be unable to teach this school year. Professor Anthony Burl has agreed to take over her Herbology course, but will not be able to take on her Head of House duties. Anyone who wishes to take over those for this year, please leave a missive on my desk by tomorrow."

Conversation buzzed around the table, most discussing what the possible situations could be that was keeping Pomona away, the rest centred around who should be taking over her House.

Albus waited a few minutes before continuing. "One more thing, I need any order changes by the morning. We are now done. Enjoy your afternoon."

§§§§

Severus double checked the potions supply closets against his last year inventory sheets. When they checked out, he wrote up the list of needed supplies and headed off to deliver the list to Dumbledore.

"Burning Feathers." The gargoyle moved, and Severus passed through while attempting to forget just what that particular sweet tasted like. The door into the Headmaster's office opened as he reached it. For a moment he thought that Dumbledore knew he was there, but Archibald Griffith, the Ancient Runes Professor, stepped out and nodded to him as he left. Returning the greeting, Severus walked into the office, his list in hand.

"Headmaster, here are my order changes." Severus held out a parchment scroll, which Dumbledore accepted and put on a stack. Turning on his heel, he prepared to leave.

"Severus, if you would wait a moment." Albus let a small smile out as the young man faced him, his exasperation only momentarily visible on his face before he schooled it. "I would like you to apply for the Head of Hufflepuff position."

It was the knowledge that he would lose his chance of Severus agreeing that kept back Albus' laughter at the shocked expression that currently covered the Potions Master's face.

Severus folded his arms, his eyes narrowing. "What? Me? Dumbledore, I was in Slytherin. Surely you remember that."

Albus closed his office door and leaned against it. "I am aware of that. Professor Griffith just informed me that he will not be returning next year. I would like you to be replace him as the Head of Slytherin, but there is no way I can give that position to someone with as little experience as you have. If you spent this year as a Head of House, then I could easily move you over to the Slytherin Head of House position next year."

Albus waited while Severus thought through his offer. Even though he was sad that Griffith was leaving, he was pleased that he had this piece of leverage to get Severus to think about taking the position.

"I will consider it, sir." Severus walked towards the door. He was glad when Dumbledore moved, opening the door as he did so.

Albus watched as the man walked away, deep in thought. "Please let me know tomorrow morning, Severus."

§§§§

'_What would I get out of being a Head of House?'_

That question had been bouncing about in Severus' head since he had left the Headmaster's office. It seemed to be echoing off the stone walls, rebounding off the ceiling and floors, bouncing down the stairs as he walked down them, and even the portraits seemed to be murmuring it as he passed them on his way to his laboratory. No matter how much he heard the question, an answer never came. What was worse was that he was sure he would be a bad Head of House.

'_The Head of House is supposed to be a parental figure. Taking care of those students sorted into their group … their family. I did not have a good example of a parental figure, and I never warmed up enough to Slughorn to learn from him how to complete the task. It would be foolish of me to even contemplate taking this on. Especially for a house I am not even a former member of. I doubt I would be a good replacement for Griffith next year.'_

Pushing the matter out of his mind, Severus entered his laboratory, and checking the list of potions that Madame Pomfrey needed, he noticed he had an entire evening of brewing. This was not something that would change. Potions Masters were too busy to handle being the Head of House. Someone else would take up the open position, not only this year's, but next year's as well. There were others far more qualified than him. Others that at least could show they cared. Pushing all thoughts of Head of Houses and Headmasters out of his mind once again, he settled in to start brewing.

Hours later, Severus arranged the vials and flasks of the needed potions. His fingers ghosted over the multicoloured containers with pleasure. This is what he excelled at. His potions were the only ones to receive and understand his caring. They didn't demand overt displays; they didn't need to be reassured. No, they glowed and sparkled in their containers content that he made them. _'Children would not understand. They would demand more attention no matter which house they were part of. They would deserve it as well.'_

A sigh escaped him as he started cleaning up. It wasn't until he was elbow deep in sudsy water scrubbing the worst cauldron that a new thought entered his mind. _'Why does Dumbledore want me to be the Head of Hufflepuff?'_

The question turned over and answers surfaced with each scrubbing motion.

'_He wants someone that he trusts.'_ Severus dismissed that idea fast. He didn't doubt Dumbledore trusted him, but he didn't think it was with children. The man had called him on the carpet more than once about his teaching persona.

'_He doesn't think the others have time to take this task on and do it right.'_ That was completely out there. He had more to do with brewing along with his other teaching responsibilities than the others who were not already a Head of House.

'_So, why does Dumbledore want me to take this position? Can it truly be because he wants me to be the Head of Slytherin house next year? Why would he want me there? It would put me in a position of power over the children of my fellow Death Eaters.'_ His eyes widened slightly and his hands stopped moving. That was it. He would have an influence on those children. The other Death Eaters would know he was a spy, Dumbledore's spy, and their children would as well. They would see that there might be a different path besides following their parents' footsteps. _'Dumbledore insists the Dark Lord is not truly gone. Maybe he wants me to show those children they do not have to be good little followers, that they can learn to think for themselves – hopefully before they are marked beyond redemption.'_

Rinsing out the cauldron, he moved to the next one while his mind churned over that idea. _'If I could influence them, maybe … just maybe it would be worth attempting to be a Head of House.'_

Scrubbing the sludge out of his smallest cauldron, Severus tried to imagine how he could be an effective Head of House.

§§§§

The parchment on his desk was still blank. Severus held his quill in his hand, the ink darkening its tip, as he contemplated what to write. The only words that were coming to mind, the only reason he could think of for the Headmaster to accept him as the Head of Hufflepuff, was that Albus Dumbledore had requested he do so.

All last night he had pondered how he could become worthy of the position. How he could show he could be trusted with children directly under his care, to be the person for them to go to if they had problems. Not a single thought had come to him. Not one plan. All that kept playing through his mind was he could not be like his parents, he could not be like Slughorn – that man had been good for a select group of the students in Slytherin but not all. He wanted to be like Dumbledore, but not exactly – there was a time or two in his memory where the Headmaster did not have his best interest at heart. So, he was left with a blank parchment, staring at it, wishing to take Dumbledore up on his offer, but having no clue how to do so, much less write out that he did.

Finally, the quill lowered and Severus wrote the only thing he was capable of. _I would appreciate the chance to become the temporary Head of Hufflepuff. I would do my best to help each child succeed._

As he walked the missive to the Headmaster's office, Severus decided if Dumbledore accepted him, he would talk to McGonagall, Flitwick and Griffith about how they worked with their houses. It would give him a starting point.

§§§§

Albus looked at the stack of parchments that littered his desk. One was letters that needed to be replied to, another was Ministry and Board messages and notes, and another was the inner school related paperwork. The one that held his attention was the small stack sitting right in the centre. These were the volunteers for the Head of House position.

Picking up the top one, he noticed that it was Septima Vector who offered her services. Scanning through her letter, Albus could see she would be a good replacement, but wondered if she would be willing to move into the dungeon to be near the dormitory. Albus knew that she had never cared for that level, preferring to be on the seventh floor. The third floor was her other preferred floor, which was where her current sleeping quarters were. The Arithmancer did not care for negative numbers, and that was what the floor below the ground level represented.

Setting her letter aside, Albus picked up the only other one there. _'Please, let this be Severus.'_

Breaking the seal, he unrolled the parchment and a small smile curved his lips. It was written in Severus' hand writing. It took him no time to read the two sentences, but the second one was all he needed to see. Severus would work to see the students succeed, and next year, he would be able to have a Head of Slytherin that would understand that house better than anyone had in years.

Albus knew the Slytherin house was facing dark days, worse than any living wizard could remember. Ever since the end of the war, people saw those who entered it as dark wizards and would possible punish them just for being Slytherin. Severus would understand what was happening, and would be able to help those children hold their head up, just as he, himself, had learned to. He would also guard their backs and hopefully help to keep some of them out of Voldemort's grip when he came back.

Letting the parchment roll back up, he sat it on top of Vector's. He would talk to them both after breakfast to let them know what his decision was.

question: Summarize Severus' arrest.

answer: Dementors came to arrest Severus. He collected his marking along with his writing supplies and calmly walked out of Hogwarts. When he was asked if he thought he could really do any writing while the Dementors were nearby, he replied that fear wouldn't change his marking.

question: What does the story say about Severus' character?

answer: He has shown his ability to work under the worst circumstances. Fear does not affect his grading. He is a hard worker and loyal to the side of the Light.

question: What does the story say about when Severus became Slytherin?