text:
"Jessica,come see this shit on t.v!" Julia yelled from the bottom half of our grandmothers house slapping the stairs at the same time as if her voice wasn't loud enough.
  "HOLD ON A DANG MINUTE MAN!" I hollered back frustrated trying to climb outta my closet with an arm loud of shoes, & clothes. Finally stepping out I threw my things down on the bed next to my suitcase & walked from my room, down the stairs & finally in to the sitting room where my sister & kids were watching the news intently.
   "what am I watching for?" I asked already Annoyed I came all the way down here to stand in silence when I needed to pack for our trip.
  " dude," Julia whispered pointing to the tv "they just had another attack man! This one was totally gruesome, the guy was an old man, he attacked his at home nurse lady thing & she couldn't get her arm away. He bit all the way to the bone & pulled all the meat off her fore arm!"
   "no freaking way" I whispered feeling chilled
  "it's true!" my son Calvin exclaimed excitingly "mom,the apocalypse is coming,we gotta get ready for war I need my gun!"
  "this is so weird" Julia said ignoring her nephew "this is like outta a movie,I gotta call the girls or Jon."
  "mom,I need my gun!" Calvin demanded louder
  "Julia don't go freaking any one out" I said "maybe it's that weird virus they have been giving everyone shots for."
  "mom" Calvin tried again "I'm serious,I have to protect us!"
  But I was to in to listening to the news & I could feel my anxiety rising with every doubtful look Julia gave the t.v.
"did you get that shot?" I asked her
"hell no I didn't" she said whipping her head to the side looking at me "you know grandad would always say there was something weird about getting a shot of one thing to fight something else."
  "I remember, that's why I havnt had a flu shot since I was 14 & I didn't get the boys either." I stated looking at my other 3 boys on the couch &  back at the t.v . I felt Calvin pull my pant leg from where he sat on the floor next to me trying to get my attention.
"stop & wait a minute Calvin" I scolded looking down at him with the no nonsense eyes & then i zoned in to the news again as they introduced a female reporter on the scene.
"early today" she began "an in home health care worker,who will rename nameless for privacy, was attacked by one of her elderly patients,who will remain nameless as well, the nurse claimed this man appeared to be in a state of dementia,confused, & unstable.worried she tried to do her job by taking the mans vitals & alerting a relative as was parodical  when he went from being docile to moaning & slobbering she Feared he might be choking on bile so she grabbed a rag to wipe his face. When she went to clean him up he grabbed her elbo pulling her closer & with what a local neighbor reported as a roar of rage bit down removing the flesh from her forearm. The neighbors heard the screams & called 911. Paramedics arrived shortly but the nurse had lost consciousness in the neighbors arms &  was pronounced dead on the scene. Now We have recently been informed by a reliable source that the wound was so deep it severed all the veins in her arms causing a bleed out. The police report they found the elderly man still in his bed eating the last of the woman's flesh. When they tried to approach he appeared to be growling & began to lash out. He was unresponsive to warning shots & was  refusing to be subdued. With  no other choice available they had  to take immediate action & shoot him down. Now back to you chad."
  Finishing she lowered her mic & waited as the screen split to another reporter at the station who was waiting with questions,
 Looking bewildered chad cleared his throat & asked
"so Miranda,you mean to tell me this man was shot & killed at the scene?"
"yes chad," she answered "there were many attempts made to take the attacker in but there wasnt any controlling this man."
"this seems to be the 3rd case documented this year of aggressive, animal like behavior  displayed by people whom other wise didnt exhibit such personality traits. I know that most states including ours have legalized marijuana do the police think maybe this was a drug induced state of delusional hysteria?" chad questioned
"well nothing has been ruled out as of yet,but I was told by the chief of police just minutes before this broadcast that they fear it might have been due to the Nauru virus." Miranda confided
   "I'm sorry Miranda im slightly confused. wasn't it mandatory in all the states for everyone to receive the new vaccine to insure the safety of our country?"
            "yes chad it was,unless you're unemployed, not an active student or work a minimum wage job thats not in the food industry." Miranda answered
   "are the shots still available?" chad worriedly asked
"they are" Miranda answered sweetly "memorial hospital is giving the shots from 8am to 8pm everyday for free while supplies last. The elderly & children are seen first of course but chad this nauru virus is a serious thing & I urge everyone who hasn't gotten one to drive down & get in line. U will be protecting yourselves from this virus as well as helping protect others."
   "well Miranda that sounds like something everyone.....
   "bubble butts,bubble butts" sang the fish cartoon
 "Kenny!" Julia & I yelled at the same time "why did you change the channel!?"
"that was a stupid show,& I'm bored. I wanna watch cartoons mom." kenny whined
"just let him" Julia said getting up from the recliner she was sitting in & walking to the stairs "we have to pack anyways."
I felt Calvin pull on my pant leg again & I looked down at him "what?" I asked tiredly. The news report had taken to much outta me I was feeling my anxiety build & all I wanted was to sleep now.
"can I have my gun now,pleeaase?" he pleaded
"Calvin,when I go to visit Aunt Janie tomorrow I will make sure u know where it is but son there isn't any reason for it. The world isn't headed for an apocalypse,aliens aren't going to attack, vampires won't swoop outta the sky & werewolves won't be going through the garbage. Calm down."
Sighing i Followed my sister up the stairs to finish the reluctant packing I had to finish so I would be prepared for the days I had to stay in Tyler trying to help my eldest sister Janie.
We had been receiving worried phone calls from Janie's neighbors for a few months before we came for this visit.  She was bi polor & a heroin addict. She had been in & out of every mental hospital & rehab possible. Our oldest brother had left corpus & moved to Tyler to take care of her about 6 months ago. No one else knew what to do.
Janie was the oldest. She had been bounced from house to house as a child. Relative after relative had taken her in. She was the shame of my mothers late teen years & my grandparents felt she should pretend nothing happened & let them sweep janie under the rug like dirt.
None of it seemed to bother our mother. No,it seemed to set a pattern for future events. If it did bother her then or later as the years went by she covered it up with alcohol. All of us children would be passed out eventually. But it seemed as bad as the rest of us might have had it Janie got it the worst.
 She was reminded daily by all the different relatives that she was inferior,defective,a sin. That she should be thankful for the barest of necessities. She wasn't allowed a childhood,children should be seen not heard. she was forced to stand in a room & be belittled in front of strangers while her flesh & blood played the martyr. She was branded a liar early on so if she ever spoke out no one would believe her. She hit puberty early. Scared & confused she went to her care giver an aunt & asked if she was dyeing. Janie burst in to tears when she was told that she was a whore,the devils mark was upon her. Why else would a 10yr old have these symptoms!? The treatment got worse, as she blossomed. Janie  was beautiful. She stood out in the family. She was tall,long red hair,ivory skin,green eyes,high cheek bones & full lips. The jealousy from her cousins was so thick in the air it could have choked people. She was looked at first at any church/school funtion & this caused resentment from her aunts who felt their daughters were of purer blood,superior so to speak. The attention men gave her wasn't even noticed by Janie who believed she was ugly. She good naturally & naively held conversation happy someone wanted to talk to her. She had no idea she was the perfect target for a pervert. She was molested. When she tried to go for help she was returned home & turned over to the very aunt that had turned a blind eye to the happenings. She could careless if Janie was abused,the old man had money & that helped the family. Janie didn't deserve any better,better was for her daughters,her princesses.  Janie ran away. From there she spent her life on the street,drugs took away the pain & sex paid the bills.  Janie got the raw end of the deal, Janie paid for the sins of the family. Thankfully janie never had children.
             Once we were old enough & told about her we grouped together & found her. We understood what it was like. We couldn't pretend she didn't exist. We tried to help,we each took a turn letting her stay in our homes,we found her counseling,doctors,medicine. but she couldn't be changed. Sometimes she was a danger to others. Eventually after all the years of abuse she did to herself to dull her pain she was a shell of what she once was or could have been. She left one day with out so much as a bye or fuck y'all. about a year later we got a random call from her. It was nice to know she was alive. She had gotten social security & was trying to make a life in Tyler Texas for herself. We were happy wished her luck & told her to call more often. She sounded much better possibly happier.
But in our family good things never last. We should have known it wasn't as good as she had us believe.we had all grown up putting on plays,telling fibs to cover up how bad it was. We were a family of the best actors any where. So when the cops found a way to contact us & started calling we shook our heads & felt like idiots. Why didn't we see deeper? Did we not want too? Did we look away like so many others did her? She was lonely & we had asked to many questions she didn't want to answer. She felt we would judge her,so she lied. Eventually the truth came out when her episodes got to outta hand.
  The first trip to Tyler we talked with all her neighbors,passed out our numbers,explained she was sick. We begged them that if there were issues to please call us & not the cops unless it was a dyer situation in which the feared for their or her life.
   Soon the calls poured in. We became good friends with Mr.Byers who lived a few houses down. He was head of neighbor hood watch & had been elected the caller when our sister got outta hand. He was never rude or angry truth be told i think he had a soft spot for my sister. His daughter had died of a drug overdose & i think he saw her in janie. The stories he told us were put in a way that u would believe he was talking about a child.  He had patience & sympathy not many would have. None the less there was always something.
           Janie  was naked in the front yard howling at the moon on all fours, Janie was jumping from trees scaring children, Janie was letting junkies camp in her front yard. Surprisingly when she shot up she mellowed out. She was well behaved & we never got a call. But as tiresome as her actions grew we never wished for her to self medicate so we could have peace.
finally it had gotten to the point  Janie tried to commit suicide by downing her meds & drinking watered down bleach in the front yard while having a garage sale. People who had stopped by to see what she was selling stood shocked & sweet mr. Byers had to call an ambulance & then us. We were flabbergasted & out of options. Some one had to go to tyler. So we sent our brother Jon. We figured he could check on her,possibly admit her to a hospital for serious help. But as fate would have it when Jon got there he met the neighbor girl Rachel. It was love at first sight & he settled in with Janie deciding crazy was worth  being close to The angel he had found.
 Things went ok for about a month. Janie was happy to have family with her. But she slowly started to slip & it got worse,Jon couldn't control her any more. He was going insane himself.  She would have fits,she would spit & scream,she accused him of wanting her dead for her house,she hit him in the head knocking him unconscious with a chair when he walked in from work on day & when he came to she was crying on the floor cutting herself with a broken beer bottle. He woke up on random nights with a knife to his throat. H had to drag her away from a toilet during an attempt at drowning herself & then hold her while she sucked her thumb & cried herself to sleep. She walked around naked in drunken stupors trying to seduce him.  Janie was just to far gone. It was over, she had lost it.
  He called home,he was tired. he couldn't take it any more. Rachel had agreed to marry him & move home to our small town of calallen with him. He felt he had done his brotherly duty he was done. It was now our turn.
  So as a group we four sisters packed up for a week in Tyler to get our deranged sister situated in an assisted living placement for the mentally unwell & find a realtor to sell her house so we could cover the costs of her expenses.
We all made arrangements with our jobs & me with my kids. bright & early the next morning we were ready to leave. I kissed my boys goodbye,hugged my grandmother & bitterly crawled in the back of my sister Joyce's truck for an unwanted journey to east tx. None of us were to happy. It's not that we didn't want to help but having to put our lives on hold was getting taxing to say the least. We were all comforted in the thought that this was the last time & Janie would be safe from herself in an adult home. We could make visits with out apologizing to neighbors or cops. We could be semi normal & still love our sister with out the hostility & regrets of not wanting to clean up her messes & take care of her.

title: It begins a.k.a The Taste 2

question: What does the story say about what happened to the nurse?

answer: The nurse is attacked by an infected old man. He bit her arm all the way to the bone and pulled all the meat off her forearm. The neighbors heard the screams and called 911. Paramedics arrived shortly but the nurse was pronounced dead on the scene. The wound was so deep it severed all the veins in her arms causing a bleed out.

question: What does the story say about Janie?

answer: Janie is the narrator's sister. She was molested by an older man when she was a girl, but her mother did not care if she is abused. Janie ran away and lived on the street from there. She was a prostitute. Now she is bipolar and a heroin addict. Her sisters decide to send her to an adult home.

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


split: test

text:
PENDLETON COUNTY is a county located in the U.S. state of Kentucky. As of the 2010 census, the population was 14,877.[1] Its county seat is Falmouth.[2] The county was founded December 13, 1798.[3] Pendleton County is included in the Cincinnati-Middletown, OH-KY-IN Metropolitan Statistical Area.

History

Pendleton County was created from parts of Campbell and Bracken counties in 1798.[4] The county was named after Edmund Pendleton, a longtime member of the Virginia House of Burgesses, the Continental Congress and chief justice of Virginia.[5][6]

Falmouth, the future county seat, began as a settlement called Forks of Licking, _circa_ 1776.[7]

Falmouth was chartered in 1793. Its name originated from the Virginians who settled there from Falmouth, Virginia.[8] It was also in 1793 that one of the first sawmills in Kentucky was built in Falmouth.[9] Falmouth was designated the county seat in 1799.[10] The county courthouse was erected in 1848.[11]

During the American Civil War, the county sent men to both armies. A Union Army recruiting camp was established in Falmouth in September 1861. Two Confederate recruiters were captured and executed by the Union Army in the Peach Grove area of northern Pendleton County. In July 1862, a number of county citizens were rounded up by Union troops during a crackdown against suspected Confederate sympathizers. In June 1863, a number of women were arrested at Demossville because they were believed to be potential spies dangerous to the Federal government. Falmouth was the site of a small skirmish on September 18, 1862, between twenty-eight Confederates and eleven Home Guardsmen.

The city of Butler was established _circa_ 1852 when the Kentucky Central Railroad was built through the area. The city was named for William O. Butler, U.S. congressman from the area, when it was incorporated on February 1, 1868.

Geography

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the county has a total area of , of which is land and (1.7%) is water.[12] The county's northeastern border with Ohio is formed by the Ohio River.

Adjacent counties

-   Kenton County (northwest)
-   Campbell County (north)
-   Clermont County, Ohio (northeast)
-   Bracken County (east)
-   Harrison County (south)
-   Grant County (west)

Demographics

As of the census[13] of 2000, there were 14,390 people, 5,170 households, and 3,970 families residing in the county. The population density was . There were 5,756 housing units at an average density of . The racial makeup of the county was 98.39% White, 0.49% Black or African American, 0.19% Native American, 0.11% Asian, 0.01% Pacific Islander, 0.35% from other races, and 0.44% from two or more races. 0.67% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race.

There were 5,170 households, out of which 39.00% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 62.80% were married couples living together, 9.60% had a female householder with no husband present, and 23.20% were non-families. 20.10% of all households were made up of individuals, and 8.30% had someone living alone who was 65 years of age or older. The average household size was 2.75 and the average family size was 3.14.

In the county, the population was spread out, with 28.40% under the age of 18, 8.50% from 18 to 24, 31.20% from 25 to 44, 21.50% from 45 to 64, and 10.40% who were 65 years of age or older. The median age was 34 years. For every 100 females there were 100.30 males. For every 100 females age 18 and over, there were 97.90 males.

The median income for a household in the county was $38,125, and the median income for a family was $42,589. Males had a median income of $31,885 versus $23,234 for females. The per capita income for the county was $16,551. About 9.80% of families and 11.40% of the population were below the poverty line, including 14.80% of those under age 18 and 11.60% of those age 65 or over.

Education

Pendleton County High School, just north of Falmouth, is the public high school. It currently is home to fewer than 1,000 students. The mascot for PCHS is the Wildcat, and the school colors are red, black and white. The school features two gyms and a 450-seat auditorium.

Other schools in the county are Sharp Middle School, named for Phillip Allen Sharp, American geneticist and molecular biologist and winner of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine (1993) and National Medal of Science (2004), located between Falmouth and Butler, Northern Elementary in Butler, and Southern Elementary in Falmouth.

Library

Pendleton County Public Library is located at 801 Robbins Avenue, Falmouth. The library provides public access computers with high speed internet and free wifi. The library also offers copying, a fax service, and a public meeting room that can be reserved.

Politics

  Year                               Republican                                  Democratic                                  Third parties
  ---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ---------------
  style=“text-align:center;” |2016   style=“text-align:center;” |76.6% _4,604_   style=“text-align:center;” |19.4% _1,164_   4.0% _239_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2012   style=“text-align:center;” |64.3% _3,556_   style=“text-align:center;” |33.6% _1,859_   2.2% _119_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2008   style=“text-align:center;” |63.4% _3,676_   style=“text-align:center;” |34.9% _2,027_   1.7% _99_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2004   style=“text-align:center;” |67.1% _4,045_   style=“text-align:center;” |32.2% _1,940_   0.7% _40_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2000   style=“text-align:center;” |63.4% _3,044_   style=“text-align:center;” |34.8% _1,670_   1.9% _89_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1996   style=“text-align:center;” |47.2% _2,177_   style=“text-align:center;” |41.8% _1,926_   11.0% _509_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1992   style=“text-align:center;” |38.8% _1,810_   style=“text-align:center;” |37.3% _1,740_   24.0% _1,119_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1988   style=“text-align:center;” |60.8% _2,487_   style=“text-align:center;” |38.5% _1,576_   0.7% _28_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1984   style=“text-align:center;” |63.8% _2,767_   style=“text-align:center;” |35.2% _1,529_   1.0% _44_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1980   style=“text-align:center;” |45.5% _1,757_   style=“text-align:center;” |51.5% _1,992_   3.0% _117_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1976   style=“text-align:center;” |35.9% _1,230_   style=“text-align:center;” |62.7% _2,147_   1.5% _50_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1972   style=“text-align:center;” |67.3% _1,966_   style=“text-align:center;” |31.1% _909_     1.6% _47_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1968   style=“text-align:center;” |45.7% _1,614_   style=“text-align:center;” |32.7% _1,156_   21.6% _763_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1964   style=“text-align:center;” |34.4% _1,313_   style=“text-align:center;” |65.4% _2,495_   0.2% _7_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1960   style=“text-align:center;” |61.5% _2,387_   style=“text-align:center;” |38.5% _1,497_   0.0% _0_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1956   style=“text-align:center;” |54.5% _2,273_   style=“text-align:center;” |45.3% _1,889_   0.3% _12_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1952   style=“text-align:center;” |51.2% _1,993_   style=“text-align:center;” |48.7% _1,895_   0.1% _4_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1948   style=“text-align:center;” |40.2% _1,373_   style=“text-align:center;” |57.3% _1,958_   2.5% _86_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1944   style=“text-align:center;” |48.3% _1,977_   style=“text-align:center;” |51.3% _2,096_   0.4% _17_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1940   style=“text-align:center;” |48.2% _2,029_   style=“text-align:center;” |51.5% _2,165_   0.3% _14_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1936   style=“text-align:center;” |42.6% _1,837_   style=“text-align:center;” |56.4% _2,432_   1.0% _42_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1932   style=“text-align:center;” |39.2% _1,812_   style=“text-align:center;” |59.4% _2,745_   1.4% _63_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1928   style=“text-align:center;” |67.0% _3,196_   style=“text-align:center;” |32.9% _1,567_   0.1% _5_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1924   style=“text-align:center;” |49.7% _2,148_   style=“text-align:center;” |46.9% _2,028_   3.4% _145_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1920   style=“text-align:center;” |44.3% _2,105_   style=“text-align:center;” |54.7% _2,598_   1.0% _49_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1916   style=“text-align:center;” |40.6% _1,206_   style=“text-align:center;” |58.1% _1,728_   1.3% _39_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1912   style=“text-align:center;” |29.8% _746_     style=“text-align:center;” |52.4% _1,310_   17.8% _445_

  : PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS RESULTS[14]

Culture

Pendleton County is home to The Kentucky Wool Festival, Griffin Center Amphitheater, and Kincaid Regional Theatre.

-   Dr. Phillip Allen Sharp, who earned the Nobel Prize for work that fundamentally changed scientists' understanding of the structure of genes, is a native of Falmouth.
-   Rev. Father J. M. Lelen, PhD was pastor of St. Francis Xavier Roman Catholic Church in Falmouth for many years in the first half of the 20th century.
-   Beth Broderick, actress on _Sabrina, the Teenage Witch_ was born in Falmouth.
-   Nate Jones was drafted in the 5th round, 179th overall, by the White Sox in the 2007 MLB Draft. He is currently with the Cincinnati Reds.
-   Dontaie Allen, current member of the University of Kentucky Wildcats. 35th player in KHSAA History to score 3,000 points. Pendleton County High School is the only school in KHSAA History to have two members in this prestigious club (Talbert Turner, 1980-84 3,183 points)
-   James Hammond, local basketball legend, former Police Chief and Mayor. The subject of the book, “The Jimmy Hammond Story”, by Bob Byrd. A young boy's rise above major life obstacles to become one of Kentucky's best high school players. Still holds the #8 spot in rebounding in the KHSAA records, from his 1957-1960 while attending Falmouth High school.

Infrastructure

Transportation

Public transportation is provided by Senior Services of Northern Kentucky with demand-response service.[15]

Communities

-   Butler
-   DeMossville
-   Falmouth (county seat)
-   Mt. Auburn, Kentucky
-   Morgan, Kentucky

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7] Hellmann, 248.

[8] Lewis Collins, _Historical Sketches of Kentucky_, (Maysville, KY: Lewis Collins, 1848): 494.

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

title: Pendleton County, Kentucky

question: What does the article say about the people of Pendleton County?

answer: There are 14,390 people in the county, almost all white. 39% of households have children under 18, and 20.1% of households are individuals. The average household has 2.75 people. The median age is 34, with 28.4% of the population being under 18, and 10.4% above 65. The male to female ratio is close to 1. The median household income is $38,125, and per capita income is $16,551. 11.4% of the population is below the poverty line.

question: What is Pendleton County's claim to fame?

answer: The county was named after a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses, the Continental Congress, and Chief Justice of Virginia Edmund Pendleton. The county sent men to both armies during the Civil War, and its county seat (Falmouth) was home to a small skirmish. The famous people of Pendleton include Dr. Phillip Allen Sharp, a Nobel laureate in biology, and James Hammond, a local basketball legend, former Police Chief, and Mayor. Beth Broderick, the actress playing Sabrina, the Teenage Witch, was born in Falmouth.

question: What does the text say about the people of Innsmouth?


text:
_CHURCHILL: WALKING WITH DESTINY_ is a non-fiction book authored by British historian and journalist Andrew Roberts. Viking Press published it within the United States in 2018,[1] while Allen Lane published it within the United Kingdom.

Dovetailing with Roberts' previous work on the Second World War and its related major figures, examples being _The Storm of War_, the book received praise from a number of publications. Reviewers have viewed the one-volume biography as one of the best works on Winston Churchill, a statesman best known for serving as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom during the Second World War, and have particularly cited the use of newly available documentary material by Roberts in its writing.

Specifically, positive reviews appeared in the publications _City Journal_,[2] _The Jewish Chronicle,_[3] _National Review_,[4] and _The Sunday Times_.[5]

Background and contents

[Churchill is photographed as a Member of Parliament in 1904.]

Given the author's longstanding history of writing about the early 20th century, one commentator opined that “Churchill’s world and its environs have been so richly and perspicaciously documented by Roberts for decades that the real oddity would be his reaching the end of a fruitful career as a historian of vast events and great men with no” single work on the figure being published. In preparation for the book, Roberts accessed newly open material previously unavailable to earlier writers. For example, the private diary kept by King George VI during World War II became as a resource given Queen Elizabeth II's assent for its use for historical posterity.[6]

Roberts describes Churchill's background and particularly notes the sadness that Churchill experienced as a child. Ignored by his active father and subject to an uncompassionate mother, Roberts writes, the young Churchill grows up in a general atmosphere of loneliness, despite his multiple attempts to write to his parents.[7] While born into an aristocratic family at Blenheim Palace, the complex being built an illustrious duke ancestor, Churchill lamented missed opportunities and particularly felt pressured given his half-American and half-British parentage, with his mother and her relatives dismissed as crass upstarts. Roberts argues that the issues endured in Churchill's childhood endowed the statesman with a strong sense of personal character possibly unlikely to have come about were Churchill either all British or a complete American expatriate.[8]

Serving in the First World War gave Churchill the opportunity to live out his taste for glory, according to Roberts. Churchill particularly wrote to Margot Asquith in 1915 that he “would not be out of this glorious, delicious war for anything.”[9] The statesmen's early life involves a variety of military and journalistic triumphs as well as certain misadventures in different nations such as Cuba, India, and South Africa, Roberts writes, that leads Churchill into the British Parliament at age twenty-five.[10] As an example of how Churchill's psychology became shaped by varied experiences, Roberts cites the experience of dealing with Islamic fundamentalist militants as a young soldier on India's northwest frontier as preparation to understand Adolf Hitler's fanaticism.[11]

As a young man, Churchill developed a particular type of personality involving a certain psychological foresight as well as an exaggerated sense of ideals and general life purposes, according to Roberts. The author describes Churchill's photographic memory and notes that, while the statesman bemoaned the inability to achieve an advanced higher education, this allowed for Churchill to become a self-educated master of the English language, particularly works of poetry. Roberts condemns what he sees as later misinterpretations of Churchill's background and psyche, the author remarking that Churchill is best thought of as both a dreamer and as an ambitious man of his time.[12]

Reception

Journalist Stephen Pollard wrote for _The Jewish Chronicle_ lauding the “simply wonderful book”, praising Roberts for having written something so “stirring yet thought-provoking” that it constituted “the most superb one-volume biography I have ever read— of anyone.” Pollard additionally remarked that since “Roberts manages something” previously “thought impossible” in creating “a new, ground-breaking portrait of the man whom many consider to be the greatest ever Englishman”, _Churchill: Walking with Destiny_ “will be regarded as a classic for generations to come”.[13] _National Review_ published a supportive review by commentator Tracy Lee Simmons. Praising the “massive book”, Simmons stated that Roberts had managed “a tour de force of scrupulous selection and astute appraisal” that stands out “in a field where the competition has been crowded and stiff.”[14]

Additional praise has come from publications such as _The Sunday Times_, the newspaper's review stating that Roberts' style “bursts with character” and “humour”.[15] Historian Barry Strauss wrote for _City Journal_ that the “brilliant” work “is not only learned and sagacious but also thrilling and fun”. Strauss additionally commented, “Roberts writes with authority and confidence.”[16]

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title: Churchill: Walking with Destiny

question: What does the article say about the Second World War?

question: Why is Andrew Roberts uniquely successful with this book?

answer: He's a historian of the early 20th century who knows the ins and outs of the period. Additionally, he uses special sources, like the diary of King George VI, to elucidate more about Churchill. His expertise and experience allow him to write about a well-known character without becoming cliche or boring.

question: What is Andrew Roberts' specialty?

answer: He's a historian focusing on the early 20th century. He documents the events, environments, and great people alive back then. He's also an experienced writer.

question: What does the article say about Churchill?

answer: The article mentions Churchill's lonely childhood and the pressures of being half-English half-American. Roberts thinks those circumstances led Churchill to develop a sense of personal character. Churchill says about the First World War that he "would not be out of this glorious, delicious war for anything." He lives out his taste for glory and continues to have a variety of experiences in Cuba, India, and South Africa before entering the British Parliament at age twenty-five. Roberts also considers Churchill to be a self-taught master of the English language.


text:
First try at a short story, I would love to hear what you think!

The story of James Butler

This is the story of James Butler. Now James Butler is a very ordinary man, living in an ordinary house with an ordinary wife and two of the most ordinary children in the world. James Butler works an ordinary job in an ordinary office, and an ordinary plant sits on the edge of his ordinary desk. When he gets home at exactly 6 in the evening, James Butler enjoys reading ordinary books or watching ordinary shows on his ordinary television. Now nothing would give us the impression that something is out of the ordinary in this man’s ordinary life. Nothing but a giant glass wall that separates James Butler from another world. Now in that other world, there lives a James Butler. Now James Butler lives a very extraordinary life. James Butler lives in the most extraordinary house with an extraordinary wife and two of the most extraordinary children in the world. James Butler works an extraordinary job in an extraordinary workplace. When he gets home, at whichever time suits him most, James Butler enjoys doing extraordinary things, like rock climbing or playing extraordinary chess championships at his extraordinary local chess club.

Now, apart from the fact that James Butler is a very extraordinary man, and the other James Butler is a very ordinary man, there’s one more thing that separates these two James Butlers. When James Butler wakes up on an ordinary Monday morning, and looks in his ordinary mirror before an ordinary Monday morning shave, there is no smile on his face. There’s sadness in his eyes, and bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep. When James Butler goes to work on this very ordinary Monday morning, there is no smile on his face. When James Butler works his ordinary 8-hour shift for his ordinary job, there is no smile on his face. Now the evening, that’s where it gets interesting. In the evening, when James Butler sits in an ordinary bus to make his way home, something not quite ordinary happens. Every evening, when James Butler returns to his ordinary house from his ordinary job, he looks through the window of the bus, trying to catch a glimpse of the James Butler on the other side of glass. Trying to catch just a small glimpse of the smile that sits upon the other James Butler’s face. Now that glimpse, that small of part of joy on the other side of the glass, that is what keeps the ordinary James Butler from going insane. Now going insane would be extremely extraordinary, and an ordinary man like James Butler wouldn’t want to go extraordinary now, would he?

But there’s another reason why James Butler tries to catch a glimpse of that smile every evening. The extraordinary James Butler, who leaves his job with a smile on his face every day, had a very ordinary past. It was a fun past, but an ordinary past. He watched his children grow up in a very ordinary fashion, and he loved his ordinary wife. When his children grew up and left the house to become adults themselves, James Butler started picking up hobbies for himself, and his life became extraordinary, filled with action, suspense and fun. Now our ordinary James Butler misses this kind of ordinary past. When James Butler was still a young, energetic man, and his wife was expecting their second child, something extraordinary happened. When our ordinary James Butler was working his 8-hour shift one day, he got a very extraordinary call from the hospital. His wife and first child had been in a car accident, and both had passed away on site. After hearing this news, James Butler excused himself and made his way home, where he drank an extraordinary amount of whiskey. This excessive amount of whiskey was the last extraordinary thing to happen in James Butler’s life. From that moment onwards, joy was hard to find for James Butler, and he lived from ordinary day to ordinary day, ordinary moment to ordinary moment, trying not to succumb to his grief. Eventually, maybe as a way of dealing with the sadness, but no one could quite tell, James Butler’s wife and children returned to him. They sat at his ordinary dinner table eating an ordinary spaghetti, and they slept in their ordinary beds at night. Now James Butler kept living like this until he was an old man, but he never became the happy man he once was. The presence of this wife and children gave him some comfort, but it was an empty shell, for every evening he would look at the other side of the glass and see what his life could have been.

But when James Butler was old and dying, something extraordinary happened once more, for the last time in his life. He got up and left his ordinary old man’s chair for the first time in a long while. James Butler then made his way outside, but left his coat and his hat hanging on their ordinary hooks in the hallway. He made his way along the glass wall, looking inside the entire way. On the other side sat an old man, wearing his coat and his hat. James Butler’s grand children came to visit him often, and even after the death of his wife joy still had a place in his life. Upon seeing this sight, our ordinary James Butler clenched his fists and started hitting the glass that had separated him from joy his entire life. It hurt, but he kept on hitting and hitting. Until finally, a crack appeared on the wall. As James Butler kept punching, the crack kept getting bigger and bigger, until finally after what seemed to be an eternity, it shattered. Billions of little pieces of glass came crashing down, and for the first time since that terrible accident, James Butler stepped to the other side of the wall.
On that other side of the wall is where James Butler died, with a smile on his face and a sea of glass surrounding him, while the other James Butler was nowhere to be found.

EDIT: Lay-out

title: [MF] The story of James Butler

question: What does the story say about what led to James Butler's very ordinary life?

answer: There are two versions of James Butler; the ordinary James and the extraordinary James. Based on this story, the extraordinary James's life is what the ordinary James could've been if not for the tragedy that befell him. What led to ordinary James's life was when his pregnant wife and first child were involved in a fatal car crash that killed them on the spot. He was thrown into a state of disarray and became an unhappy, miserable man; thus, everything about his life became ordinary. However, somehow he got back the family he lost, but the former happiness he used to have was never restored.

question: What does the story say about how James Butler's late wife and children returned to him?


text:
New writer, please be cruel. I've been waiting to share this for too long.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Water exits a system, one way or another. It is inevitable.

It can evaporate; it can split its course. It can reach the end and find itself in a new, larger body. It can be removed and reused by the living for the various, the most common of which serve to maintain. It can even drain out the bottom and form an underground reservoir.

We’ve all learned this in class, but no matter what, water exits the system. Return is possible, but water cannot remain forever. Forever is a very long time. Even glacial ice finds its way to the sea. The planet could also explode or implode or crash into a star. There are many ways water can leave its river. Exit is inevitable, and barring an unexpected turn of events, we have reached the mouth of this river.

Every year, the eldest make their way, one at a time, out the front gate, and never come back. None of us really know where they go, although we’re told this and that. Tali left today. She was the last of her class to go. She was getting very lonely. Anyone would.

Now it is our turn. Today, we became the oldest girls in school. None of us have any idea really as to who will be the first to leave or exactly when she’ll go. All we know is that it is down to our group of eight, and that we will all be gone within little more than a year, at the most.

We’ve studied grief and all its stages from a book Miss Hadeel had us read, but also with our observations and experiences. We lose eight every year, and we never hear from them again. We understand it; we’ve adapted. It’s our turn now, and we know this last year won’t be easy. It’s never appeared easy for anyone, not once since we arrived.

It’s our turn; we are now the water waiting at the gate.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

*I am a bar of soap… the more I clean, the sooner I disappear.*

A bar of soap washes away under water and pressure. Soap cracks and crumbles to pieces when exposed to heat or extended periods of dryness.

Soap is important. Modern society would probably fall apart without maintaining a minimum level of cleanliness. Disease prevention keeps us all alive, soap keeps us healthy, and we take it for granted.

Soap is frequently forgotten. It is cheap, and easy to come by. It is a rare few who concern themselves with soap beyond personal and familial hygiene.

Soap is what keeps Marream alive. Without soap, she could not clean the rooms of the hotel. If she cannot keep them clean, then she has no job. If she loses her job, her family will lose half its income. Without money, they will either starve or find themselves homeless in an unfriendly land. In that scenario, Marream would sacrifice herself, for her family. In that scenario, Marream would starve.

Soap is important. Soap keeps Marream alive.

* * * *

*Yara, I am your castle made of sand. I won’t dry out. Not yet. Not as long as you need me.*

Akeem did not have work that day. Instead, he took Yara and Marream to the beach. Mersa Matruh would not be as crowded as it had been, now that the summer tourists had mostly made their way back to Cairo.

After his first dip in the water, Akeem dried off and lay down in the sand to take his first of many naps that day. He watched Marream help Yara build her first sandcastle in the wet sand just out of reach of the hapless waves and their faltering charge. The tide was at its highest point that day. The beauty of the two of them, mother and daughter, glowed perfectly under the mid-morning sun; their dark, young skin was vivid against the teal water of the bay at their backs. He felt blessed. His help in this endeavor would not be needed that day. The waves would stay distant without coercion.

He woke up to a tiny, sandy hand shaking his hairy chest, getting ready to pluck individual strands, but his opening eyes were all the child wanted. Marream was standing up next to the completed castle and walked over, ready for her turn to lie in the sand and dream about the lights and colors that twirled themselves through closed eyelids.

Akeem brought his daughter to the water to play in the waves. This day would be a test, a test to see if the perpetual energy of the ocean’s waves could keep pace with her perpetual exuberance.

The day went on, the heat grew strong, and the waves receded. The family did not return to play with the castle, but every time Akeem slept under the shade of their borrowed umbrella, he watched its sandy walls. He watched them dry out and bake under the sun.

By the end of the day, all the moisture within the castle’s walls had left and flown away with the breeze. It was just a fragile skeleton that could barely support its own weight. Its corners had already crumbled and broken off, fallen back down to the beach beneath.

Marream packed their things to leave; it had been a long day, and they both could tell Yara was finally getting tired. Akeem, walking back along the shore with Yara’s little hand clasped firmly in his for the final time that day, stopped at the crumbling sandcastle.

*What will happen to my castle?*

*It can’t stand forever. The waves will wash it away tonight. Let’s enjoy it one last time.*

Akeem took both her hands, and they danced together on its top, laughing, saying good bye, and thanking the castle for playing with them.

* * * *

Marream had been working as a maid at a hotel in Dubai called the Burj Al Arab for about a year. Akeem worked in construction, twelve hours a day. They both worked six days a week. This was not uncommon for foreign workers here. Most of their co-workers were from India, Pakistan, or Bangladesh, but they all shared a life of poverty, living together in what could only be accurately described as labor camps.

Egypt wasn’t safe for them anymore, being a young family of Coptic Christians raising a toddler. Dubai was their way out, and the only way that promised they wouldn’t starve.

Survival was about all that really mattered, and while they found food, shelter, and regular work, fear still hovered over their daily lives.

The Kafala sponsorship program, a fairly standard practice concerning the regulation of migrant workers used by many nations on the Arabian Peninsula, made Akeem and Marream powerless in their new home. They spent their life savings and more to exit Egypt and find work, but their combined salaries on arrival could hardly pay off the interest they owed on their debts to their employers.

While they were mostly safe here, their employers would control their passports until their debts were paid, and therefore had the power to have them thrown in jail or deported, simply on a whim.

It was a tenuous living situation at best, but survival was possible. Their most pressing fears were for Yara and her future.

She was not yet old enough to attend school, but they had no idea how she would when the time came. The children of immigrants and migrant workers could not attend the government’s public schools, and had to pay for a private education. Tuition at the least expensive primary schools was at its cheapest a half a year’s wages, and it would only increase as she got older. Application was just as competitive for the less expensive schools as it was for the most highly rated schools. Acceptance to an affordable institution was far from the likeliest of possibilities.

Akeem and Marream worried that they would be forced to educate their daughter themselves, a task for which they were not well equipped. They feared that Yara, if she spent too much time in the slums in which they currently resided, would turn to evil and sin.

* * * *

The Burj Al Arab, if it stood almost anywhere else, would be quite out of place. Here though, where every building was shaped or carved from clear and elegant stones and metals, the seventy story sailboat was nothing more than a dune in the endless deserts that cradled the glass city.

The building was no more aware of the beauty it held than the glass vase Marream carefully wiped free of fingerprints. She stared lovingly at the petals of the flower, ignoring the wilted reflection in the mirror.

For Marream, in the evening at least, the heat was a briefly refreshing escape from the air-conditioning that flooded her body all day. It picked her up and carried her home. She was grateful for this.

In contrast, many people, laborers of every type, made the journey home carrying the heat on their bent backs. Akeem, who was so strong, was one of those men who never stood up straight. He carried thousands of people every day; people who carried no knowledge of him. He carried the heat so it would have the strength to carry her, which, in turn, gave her the strength to carry him and young Yara.

Yara, like her mother, did not mind the heat. She was five and filled with a boundless joy, energy, and curiosity that worried Marream and Akeem to wits end. She would surely be at home, impatiently waiting for dinner after a long day playing with the other children. The women of the camp took turns watching them on their days off.

* * * *

Marream’s silhouette clouded out the light coming through the open door. A slight breeze walked through the maze of cardboard buildings behind her, stopping for a moment to twirl her black curls while she let her eyes adjust to the softer light of her home.

Yara was sitting at the table, happily playing a game using red and white blocks with a smiling man Marream did not recognize. His teeth were perfectly straight and showed no signs of discoloration. His sandals revealed frequently manicured toes. He was wearing traditional Emeriti dress, a freshly pressed, all-white Kandura and red-and-white checkered ghutra. A man of this wealth and importance was an uncommon sight in this area. In fact, Marream had never once seen or heard of a man of this stature making an appearance in the camp.

*Good evening Miss Dawoud. I am glad you arrived on time. I hope your husband will be joining us shortly. We have much to discuss regarding young Yara’s education and future. She is a bright young child… and quite beautiful too.*

* * * *

Young girls, anywhere between the ages of six and sixteen, ran around the courtyard, or stood chatting in circles, all of them in bright, flowery dresses. The playful props, decorations, flittered around the spring stage, dancing and waving like dolls in a dollhouse.

*We believe exercise and sunlight are more than just happy delights. Play is key to the development of a young woman’s mind, heart, and body. We let them play twice daily, and in mixed age groups, for various developmental reasons. The younger girls gain role models, and the older girls learn to develop their motherly instincts.*

*Very pretty.*

*Yes. Very.*

The conversation continued on as they wound their way around the school, painting steel drum whispers on the windows lining the interior of the compound with the soft percussive march of three steps in time. They mustn’t disturb the girls at study or at play.

The conversation passed into silence with the turning click of the office door. Marream and Akeem sat down in matching leather chairs that lacked even the slightest imperfection. Opposite them, across the near empty mahogany desk peppered eloquently by a cigar box, pen, empty pad of paper, and neatly stacked legal documents, sat Rashid: lead recruiter, tour guide, and Headmaster of the Ladies’ Finishing School of Dubai.

*As you can see, we take very good care of our girls here. We educate them. We train them to be wives. We teach them how to lead happy, pleasant lives, and then we give them those lives. We are strict, and we are kind. Discipline and kindness are the foundations on which proper ladies are built. We take exceptional measures to preserve their innocence. We have built a paradise here, an island of sorts, where the evils and dangers of the surrounding world are kept at a studied distance. We are extraordinarily good at what we do.*

*Now, you may visit your daughter twice in the first year, once the second, and once the third, and only on the specific dates that we will communicate to you two months in advance. Afterwards, you will no longer be allowed to visit the compound. If either of you are to pass from this earth, Yara will be taken to the funeral, and you may spend the day together in mourning. If both of you are to leave us permanently, all remaining payments will be deposited in Yara’s name in a low-interest savings account.*

*You may continue to communicate by mail, but expect those correspondences to… cease for an extended period of time, due to what is best put as… a… lack of interest. All incoming mail will be screened for contraband and illicit information. Sometimes correspondences resume, but sometimes, they do not.*

*You will receive € 200 a month, totaling € 2400 a year, until your daughter turns eighteen. Payments will be made regularly and on time. Do not come here seeking more, or cash advances. Remember, if you choose to sell your daughter to us, you are not doing so for the money. If that is all you’re after, they sell your daughter into prostitution. I can’t stop you. A young girl can be worth a large sum on the black market. I can, though, guarantee that she would live a dismal life that would end only in hellfire and eternal damnation. By sending your daughter here, you are paid in the form of a better and safer life for her, an education. A life free of want. A youth free of sin. A better life than you could ever provide for her.*

*Do you have any questions?*

*Ok. Sign here, here, and here, and initial here, here, and here. Now you, ma’am.*

Their footsteps, two alone, silently pressing the grass beneath their feet, crossing the now empty courtyard, exited the premises. They entered the taxi, using their left hands only, so as to protect the pricks on their pointer fingers that stung red.

* * * *

*Why did you purchase me?*

* * * *

title: Yara [RF]

question: Summarize the difficulties faced by Akeem and Marream as immigrants in Dubai.

answer: Marream spent her time cleaning almost all day. Soap has become her friend as she cleans and tidies the hotel rooms. Just like soap, the more she cleans the more she fades away. She cannot afford to lose her job as her family would starve and find themselves homeless in a foreign land. Akeem, her husband, works for 12 hours a day (six days a week) in construction. Just like his co-workers, they all shared a life of poverty and lived together in labor camps. Akeem and Marream ran away from Egypt as it wasn't safe for them as a young family of Coptic Christians. They spent all their life savings to exit Egy[t and find work in Dubai. Though they are safe in Dubai, the couple are systematically enslaved by their employers who controlled their passports until their debts are paid. It was difficult but they mostly fear for their daughter and her future.

question: What kind of establishment is Yara being sold to?


text:
As the sun rose that morning, he stood there at the stern of the ship, both hands on either side of that fat, cumbersome wheel. The sailor had spent many days and many nights clutching its wooden rim.

The wheel was stiff. It cooperated like an sick old man being forced to squeeze every last particle of existence out of his broken body.

The sailor had not been in the company of another for a very long time. His sanity had parted ways with him long ago, and he’d accepted that. He never mourned his sanity. It slipped away quietly one day, undetected.

The sailor couldn’t remember the last face he saw. One afternoon not long ago, the sailor found he hard time visualizing a face, any face, in his mind. He found this troubling. He squeezed his eyes tight, blanketed his forehead with his palm, trying very hard to recall a face, any face at all. He tried hard, but with no success. He was neurologically constipated.

He gave up, and several troubling hours passed. He was then hit with a solution to his problem, one which should have been obvious, but it hadn’t been. The sailor was relieved to rediscover that included with his human body was a human face.

His hand rediscovered his old face, and it seemed foreign. All of this sticky apparatus attached to the front of his skull. It seemed so crude, so obscene. He wondered how he ever got my in his old life ashore. How was he able to converse with another person while their head apparatus flaps around, crude and sticky just like his. He‘d regained his ability to visualize faces, but he really wish he hadn’t.

Perhaps having souls operating these faces nullifies the horrific nature of them somehow. Normalizes then over time. The sailor had not been among other beings with sticky apparatus at the front of their heads for an eternity.

The sailor’s unaccompanied mind travelled to many places which were and continue to be entirely inaccessible to the sane mind.

The sailor had a benefit in being aware of his insanity, and thus he didn’t feel he had to question and judge himself for the many odd notions and probably irrational ideas he would have from time to time. He was insane, and insane people are licensed to do insane things, he figured. He wasn’t going to attempt to suppress his eccentricity. He decided that long ago. Some fortunate people can travel beyond the sane, and return unscathed. The sailor however, had been too far gone, for far too long. He was not going to be returning to the lost world of reason and rational, linear thinking.

Sometimes the sailor would invent imaginary people. They never stuck around for more than a day. The sailor liked variety. These weren’t imaginary friends. The sailor enjoyed the company of imaginary strangers.

The sun continued it’s ascent into the empty sky. Long ago the sight of the morning sky may have raised a corner of the man’s mouth. It’s quite possible that in the man’s ancient past, he enjoyed the crisp morning air, gazed at the heavens and sighed a contented sigh. It’s quite possible that this is one of countless fragments of this man’s truth which have been whisked away by a gentle wind. All who have lived have known the work of this wind, some more than others. The delicate way of this wind seems spiteful. A gentle breeze passed by the one who walked the earth with his heart gleefully exposed, unacquainted with the wind. The sky was spectacular and the grass felt like love and smelled of something sweet and eternal.

Not one person has gone from A to B without cursing the ways of this unstoppable wind. They wave their fists, they shout vengeful violence at the great thief. Their verbal fists find themselves without satisfaction. This breeze can’t be battered, just as water cannot be strangled. Many have tried this as well, when gratitude for it’s service is replaced with resent. For some, the service of water seems to only prolong the heavy days and the bloody nights of disassembly, dissection and reconfiguration. For some, the water appears to be the wind’s accomplice. The wind, the great thief, the water, the great captor of man in disguise.

title: [MF] Today I took Adderall and wrote whatever this is. It’s definitely rough, it might not make much sense, and it doesn’t have an ending. I haven’t tried writing a story in 2+ years. I would really appreciate some honest feedback! Thanks folks...

question: Where was the sailor sailing?

answer: This information is not mentioned.

question: What solution did he come up with to his problem of not seeing a human face in a long time?

answer: When he couldn't remember the last human face he came across, he rediscovered his own face.

question: What would the sailor do to not feel lonely?

answer: The sailor would come up with imaginary people. They weren't his friends but strangers.

question: Does the sailor come across another boat at sea?

answer: No.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: The sailor stood at the stern of the ship looking into the blue sea. It had been ages since he last conversed with or saw another human. He started having difficulty imagining a human face. The sailor was fully aware of his insanity and hence did not question many of his odd notions and irrational ideas. Sometimes, he would invent imaginary people, a different one every day. He would enjoy the company of these imaginary strangers.


text:
May 14th, 2011 (No Regrets); “People ask, they ask things, questions of course. Questions that may or may not be answered. Some don’t even make sense at first, but they are all asked for a reason. People ask them because they wonder. They think, they dream, because these are the people who enjoy the little things. These are the people who love, and believe in a leader. They don’t take advantage of the life they are given and they spend the time they are given wisely. I would rather spend my life I was given being adventurous then to wake up to black and grey every morning. I would rather live a short exciting life than a long dull one. That’s not to say I don’t frown, because I cry, I shame, and I fall, but I don’t look down. Looking down is giving into pain, when I could rather smile through hell and drop off the weakness on my way.  ” –Johnny Sofer.
June 11th 2012 (Introduction); well, this is a story, kind of… It’s about someone who stood out to me, well; stood out to anyone he was in quarters with. There’s not to many ways to start this, but I had a friend, Johnny, Johnny Sofer. John wasn’t exactly like anyone else, and that’s not to say he wasn’t normal, because there is really only question on the accuracy of normal, right? John was a fourteen year old cancer patient at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, also known as ‘C.H.O.P.’. Fortunately he still got to carry on with school just as any other kid did.  He fit in with appearance quite impressively: brown hair, green eyes, about five and a half feet tall, but as white as a fresh cloud on a summer day. The things that put John at differences with others were his disabilities. He had a rare jaw dysfunction in which it affected his ability to talk, not too many people understood him, but still found a way to form a little dialogue so John could feel safer, you could say. He also possessed a rare bone disease when he was only five called ‘skeletal dysplasia.’ It strongly affected his ability to not only walk, but move in general. He managed, and carried on like all others, but even with his medication, pain was always in presence. He had a family for support, but there’s not too much support you can give. The thing was, John’s sickness wasn’t exactly temporary. In the fall of 2011 he was alerted that he had only a little over a year to live, but fortunately he wouldn’t suffer any more than he already has, as depressing as that sounds. His body just wouldn’t be able to keep surviving. So for the year on, he lived and loved his casual life as he wanted, but as friendly as John was, being casual wasn’t always enough to keep him happy. It was difficult for him to make friends, mainly because he couldn’t do what every other kid could, but I kept John from feeling lonely, I considered myself a companion, as he may have considered me euphoria. By the way, my names Finis. John and I have been friends since he was about five, right around when he was diagnosed with cancer, too young to really understand though. As time went by I kept him feeling loved and important, because he was. And that wasn’t really a coincidence of me meeting him, but rather a fortunate accident.
June 12th 2012 (Smile); John’s family was just like any other family from what I know. They tried their best to keep some weight off his shoulders, and keep me distant as much as possible. John surprisingly put more into keeping his parents calm than anything else, which was just uncommon and surprising. Watching someone deal with so much, and go through so much, but yet, help others up above him. It gets you to think, and even just appreciate things a little more.  Aside from all of John’s disabilities, this is why some considered him a gifted kid. He could basically pull the positive out of every negative. Well, anyone can, it just took the will power John had to prove people wrong, not show them that he could survive, but rather live and as he went on picking others up, he started to make it seem almost as though it was his job. He just had a secret, a stupid little one, but one that could make you ponder into belief. He claims that when you are mad, too smile and that as hard as it may seem, and as much as you may want to quit, smile in hope, for problems can be solved. He said as long as you’re smiling, you’re living.
June 15th 2012 (Departure); for some reason, I never felt the need to ask him why he was always in joy, because of course he had his little secret and all, but I wouldn’t be able to imagine what he’s going through. He seemed happy enough to keep others happy, so I guess it’s as simple as that. As close as we were, I’ve never met anyone like John, but everybody is born with a different personality and a different obscure view on life, but no matter what the personality or view on life is, there’s not a doubt that you can’t make the best of it. I realized that, on the night I found out John only had so much longer; it was almost as if he knew it was coming, as though he was warned.  John was a kid just like any other, besides his sickness. Except there was just one other thing, he thought a lot. He seemed to have his eyes closed constantly, yet he would not be sleeping. It puzzled me. As if he was almost dreaming, day dreaming, possibly about his situation. Maybe thinking about what might happen to him when it’s over, because humans do not have a clue about what happens. They just tell strange stories and old legends about what they assume might happen, but John looked beyond those stories and myths. John looked harder into it. He had a different theory on life and on death. I guess that was because he was so close to it, but what do I know? I have only known him since then.
April 5th 2011 (Baseball); John kept enjoying life. He still went to school and started to make more friends..  He always kept smiling more than he ever frowned, which was great. He actually played a sport for a bit. He played baseball. It wasn’t and still isn’t my favorite sport, but as long as it kept him busy, who was I to judge? Not to mention he was pretty damn good at it too. He played day and night and got better every minute. Everyone noticed him. It was still his first sport he ever played, but it kept him feeling like he fit in for once and he got quite a bit of playing time too. Not only did the coaches notice him, but he was actually approached by a nearby college baseball coach. To this day I don’t know if it was because of his situation or maybe out of pure kindness, but John was over joyed, matter of fact, he was honored.
May 15th, 2011 (Pursuit); Despite Johns muscle disorder, as stated, he played baseball. The thing I forgot to mention though is that wasn’t exactly in the doctors recommendations.  And there was no reason to get upset with John about it, besides, what would you do with a year to live? It caught up with him though. It was game day; Johns chance to shine for everyone. And of course it was his turn up to bat, cameras were rolling and people were cheering. The pitcher sent one down, and although people are still not sure if it was a slow pitch or John’s lucky day, he nearly a home run. It went all the way to back left field, I remember descriptively. John sprinted to first and went to head to second, he tripped. At least that was our first thought. Screams of terror came from John and he wasn’t moving after that. The trainer rushed over along with teammates, coaches, a few fans. John pushed himself to the max. Immediately after, he was rushed to the hospital. It turned out that his body went into instant shock and nearly all of his muscles tightened up to the point where it almost shattered his bones. He was instantly given some sleeping meds and remained asleep for a few following days to allow his body to relax. When he woke up he was lost, forgetful, and aimless. The team was notified, since they all came to visit when he awoke. He got the game ball; they won the game for him. John forgot about everything else at that time, the pain, the stress, and the time. He just seemed, relevant.
May 22nd 2011 (Worthwhile); John had to stay for the remainder of the month. Time went by, and John became even sicker. His symptoms became worse. The thing about that though, it had been one year and five months already. Silence was all that was really in play. Everyone’s mind was just an abyss, nothing to ponder and not much to say. That last month in the hospital was the longest month of John’s short, but meaningful life. I guess time really does go by fast. Before John passed, something clicked to me. I finally understood it. I understood why John was so happy all the time. Why he always smiled. He always had a good view on life and I always questioned it, but I never could figure out the answer. I started to look deeper. John lived his live knowing that it was almost over, he lived his life in joy knowing that it could end at any time. He didn’t have a gift. He just looked past everything and looked at the big picture in life. No matter whom he was or what he has been through, he never let it put him down. He smiled when he was upset, because smiling is the best therapy. Not only did John know he was dying, but besides the fact, he didn’t know when he was going to die. Everybody is dying. It is just a matter of time when it happens. Death is an amazing thing. It happens to basically everyone and everything. It can’t be reversed nor escaped. You can be scared of it, you can be ready for it, yet some might even rush it. Your life depends on death. How much time you have and how you use that time. The way you spend it, whether you abuse it or savor it. Whether you enjoyed it or despised it. Live like you death is coming. Live without fear and with an open mind filled with excitement and love. Expect the unexpected at all times and never let your head drop. Life is about giving, so give what you can and ask for nothing in return. Life is about doing not what you crave, but to help others achieve the same. Set goals. Don’t stop until you accomplish those goals, because at times those goals might be the only reason that’s carrying you on. Respect others and respect yourself. Never waste a day of your life. You are only given one life, so why even consider wasting it. Spend every second of every minute with even a hint of joy somewhere inside you. Don’t stop truly living till your heart stops beating, because someday it will be over, done, gone forever, make it worth it from the beginning. Let that courage represent those goodbyes.  Make people remember you in a positive way, as a well spent day bring happy sleep, so a life well spent brings a happy death. When you read this story I’m not saying I’m still alive at the end, I’m just telling a tail, and simply expressing my own tips for if someone else may come across them and consider being in need of them. So take this in mind. Save this story to your head. Remember these tips as for one day your time will come. As I told you in the beginning, my names Finis, I never said I was real, but I never said I wasn’t. People know me as different things, different beliefs, and different virtues, but that is only my appearance. As I am just another entity finding new problems to solve and riddles to conquer. As life is just a game to me and there is no winner. Just every role of the die is an adventure, but who really knows what or who I am. So that you can’t judge me by the clothes I am wearing, or the nametag I am given. Start asking the real questions, one that questions my human state of mind or even if I am a real thing. Whether you hate me or cherish me. Take it in. Absorb the truth. Because you all know, one day, just one split second, darkness will erupt, and your thoughts, hopes, and dreams will die. So make it last. Don’t ever rush it or wait for it. Don’t even question it, but remember my name as though you may meet me someday.  Whether you catch up to me in the afterlife, or I am brought to you by the experience of near death. Share my tails. Express my stories. Contain a mind of life, but live along the valley of death.

title: Live Along the Valley of Death [SP]

question: What are the examples showing John living his short life to the fullest?

answer: Despite his fatal condition, he helps his parents remain calm. He smiles as much as he can, more often than he frowns, even though he's often in pain. He starts playing baseball at some point. The doctors advise against it, but it's the one sport he can play and feel like he belongs; plus, he's good at it.

question: In what ways does John's condition affect the people around him, especially the narrator?

answer: He's almost always a source of positivity, keeping the people around him sane and happy despite his many problems and impending death. His positivity in the face of terrible luck inspires the people around him. The narrator is friends with John from a very early age, and John's condition makes the narrator think a lot about how to live, the meaning of it, and how to stay positive. John inspires the narrator to always keep a smile on his face, just because it's the best therapy.

question: Summarize the pain of John's extended family.


text:
TO FIND THE IDEAL GRIP, GOLFERS SHOULD KNOW THESE FIVE KEY FACTORS

GRIP SIZE
1

GRIP MATERIAL
2

GRIP FIRMNESS
3

SURFACE TEXTURE
4

WEATHER CONDITIONS
5

GRIP SIZE

Size is the single most important factor when selecting a grip. There are four basic golf grip sizes: Undersize, Standard, Midsize and Oversize. Further customization can be achieved by adding additional layers of tape during installation.

Using an improperly fitted grip can cost a player 3-4 strokes every round. A grip that's too small, promotes extra hand action and commonly leads to pulling the ball. A grip that's too large limits wrist pronation, stifles shot distance, and can cause you to slice or push the shot.

[Measuring hand for grip size]
  ------------------ -------------------- ----------------
  _GRIP SIZE_        _HAND MEASUREMENT_   _GLOVE SIZE_
  Junior/Undersize   < 7 inches           Small
  Standard           7 to 8 ¾ inches      Medium / Large
  Midsize            8 ¼ to 9 ¼ inches    Large
  Oversize/Jumbo     > 9 ¼ inches         Extra Large
  ------------------ -------------------- ----------------

[]

GRIP MATERIAL

Most grips are made of rubber or synthetic rubber materials. These grips are extremely durable and come in a variety of styles and colors. Some new synthetic materials, like Lamkin’s patented ACE 3GEN,offer the additional benefits of superior vibration dampening and long-lasting tackiness.

GRIP FIRMNESS

Lamkin’s Maximum Performance grips feel firm and offer superior torsion control that is well suited for players with high swing speeds. Firmer grips are favored by Tour players and PGA Professionals because they promote a light-pressure grip while providing incredible stability.

Comfort Grips are softer feeling and ideal for players with lower swing speeds or minimized hand strength. These grips tend to feel tackier, but do not provide the stability and torsion control of a firm grip. While soft grips do feel very comfortable, players have a tendency to use excess hand pressure to create a secure, confident grip on their club.

[]

[]

SURFACE TEXTURE

Lamkin golf grips are available in a wide range of surface textures. The design and pattern on the surface of a grip creates either a smooth feel or a more coarse and abrasive feel. When selecting a grip, golfers should choose a texture that feels comfortable and secure.

If a player doesn’t wear a glove, they may prefer a grip with less pattern and a smoother feel. Some players prefer a rougher texture on their grips because it provides more hand traction and gripping confidence.

WEATHER CONDITIONS

For golfers playing in wet and humid weather, special care should be taken to select the right golf grip. Golf grips that include cord fabric are especially helpful in creating extra traction and support in wet conditions.

But, for many players, cord grips are too aggressive for their hands. If cord is not an option, then golfers should look for a grip with a heavy pattern and surface texture to provide the necessary traction to keep their clubs from slipping (or flying) out of their hands. Avoid smooth grips and grips made of plastic or other polymers that are not well suited for play in extremely wet conditions.

question: What does the article say about what are key factors when selecting a golf grip?

answer: The key factors when selecting a grip are grip size, material, firmness, texture, and weather conditions.

question: What does the article say about why grip size and grip firmness are important?

answer: A grip that's too small promotes extra hand action and leads to pulling the ball. A grip that's too large limits wrist pronation, stifles shot distance and can cause you to slice or push the shot. Lamkin’s Maximum Performance grips feel firm and offer superior torsion control that is well suited for players with high swing speeds. Comfort Grips are softer feeling and ideal for players with lower swing speeds or minimized hand strength. These grips tend to feel tackier, but do not provide the stability and torsion control of a firm grip.

question: What does the article say about Tiger Woods?


text:
The sand had shifted from blinding white to the dull crimson of spilled blood. Bodies lay scattered about with little regard for anything even resembling burial rights. In the distance a crowd of thousands roared for more, more violence, more blood, and more death. But their screams meant nothing to the two men left standing. Their ears had long ago grown dull to the masses and their demands for unfettered carnage. These men were no longer fighting to entertain. The rules had been abandoned long ago when that…thing… had been released into the pit. This was no longer about spectacle, this was about survival. The horrid being would not stop until it had massacred all it laid eyes upon. It did not fight to please the
masses; it fought to feed its bloodlust.

It was clearly not human. That much had been certain from the start. The emperor claimed his men had found it in the deserts of Egypt, within a great metal structure that fell to earth. A flying tomb, he had called it, and within was a sarcophagus fit for the great kings of the Nile. But within there was no long dead Pharaoh. Only evil beyond imagination.

It stood at least 3 heads above even the tallest of men and possessed four arms that widened out into massive 8 fingered hands, each of them large enough to envelop a small child. Its head was elongated at the jaw and topped with an ornate headdress made of metal unlike any other, adorned with jewels that sparkled like the inky blackness of the midnight sky. The beast’s entire body was covered in such ornamentation, necklaces and bangles, jewelry beyond measure laid atop the decaying gauze bandages wrapped so tightly around every inch of its being. The bandages themselves were just as fascinating,
moving and shifting of their own
accord as if the beast were entangled in a nest of serpents. What little flesh could be seen was dark and shriveled, that of a corpse left in the sun for weeks on end.

The emperor had warned his favorite fighters that they would face the creature in the pit. Such an exotic beast was too good to be kept locked away. The people grew tired of Christians being fed to lions and tigers, but who could tire of a monster from beyond the heavens that had the strength of ten men and the passion of one hundred?

One By one the gladiators had filed out into the coliseum. Each had waved and shouted, trying to rile up the crowd, trying to draw the most attention and praise to himself. Eventually all were made to turn and face the mighty casket that stood upright in the center of the pit, rattling and thrashing, the beast inside making unholy such an unholy din. The handlers refused to open it themselves. The animals of China and the Dark Continent were one thing, but this creature knew no concept of loyalty or mercy, and the beast masters refused to let it prove this on anybody other than the fighters.

The first brave soul who opened the sarcophagus was swiftly punished. The beast’s bandages shot out from the inky darkness inside and grabbed his arms and legs, swiftly tearing him to pieces before dragging the torso in and slamming the lid shut once more. Moments later it emerged, the once pristine white gauze soaked in gore. More fighters tried to rush in, some managing to strike it with their swords before having their skull caved in by a strike from one of its mighty palms. Two more were strangled by the animate bandages, hung by their necks about the horrid thing while it used its limbs to face more pressing challengers. A brief spark of hope did appear when one man managed to catch the monster by surprise and stab at its chest,
causing it to fall to its knees in shock. The crowd roared with excitement as the warrior lifted his sword to take the beast’s head, but it took too long. The creature screamed with rage, the very sand on the ground around it whipping into the air and creating a furious gale that enveloped him. The sheer force of the coarse particles blasted flesh away from bone, and soon another corpse laid upon the ground, reduced to little more than a skeleton.

Two men remained standing against the creature. The first saw no victory, and promptly fell upon his sword in despair. The second however, had other ideas. The creature may not tire, and it may not be slowed by conventional attempts to wound, but it was old. Old and dry. Which meant that in theory, he reasoned, it could burn. Quickly he sprinted to the outer edge of the coliseum, making a bee line for the torches that brought light to the pit when it was enveloped by the shadows of the day. The gladiator grabbed a burning fixture and lobbed it, striking the beast in the center of the chest. A brief sound of surprise escaped its mouth before it was enveloped in flames, bandages and desiccated skin blazing like tinder. Once more the horrid thing dropped to its knees, but before it could truly die, something truly strange occurred. The sarcophagus, originally dormant at the center of the pit, flew open once more, and a violent wind pulled from within it with hurricane force. The beast was ripped from the battlefield, the raging fire dissipating as it was pulled back from whence it came and the lid slammed shut. The box no longer rattled and shook. It was done. For now, this was over. But as the gladiator heard the people cheer, and the emperor praise his bravery, something stuck within his mind. He could have sworn, that for the few moments before the sarcophagus closed…that within it he saw an ocean of stars.

title: [SF] Foreign Sands

question: Summarize the climactic event in the story.

answer: Gladiators have been fighting a mysterious beast, until only two gladiators remain. One decides victory is impossible and falls on his sword. The other gladiator uses his mind and realizes that the beast has a weak spot: it was really old and dry, so it should burn. The gladiator grabs a torch and thrusts it at the beast, then the beast lights on fire, dramatically reenters its box, and is gone.

question: Describe the beast's appearance.

answer: The beast stands three heads taller than the tallest man. It has four arms that have 8-fingered hands large enough to cover a small child. It has an elongated jaw. On its head is an ornate headdress, and the beast's entire body is covered in ornamentation and jewelry. The beast's body is tightly wrapped in gauze bandages, some of which dangle off and seem alive.


text:
The BATTLE OF PEDUM was fought in 338 BC, near Pedum between the Roman Republic and multiple cities in Latium: Tibur, Praeneste, Antium, Aricia, Lanuvium, and Velitrae. The Roman army was led by the consuls Gaius Maenius and Lucius Furius Camillus. The battle resulted in a Roman victory.[1][2]

Background

The Romans had campaigned against the combined force at Pedum during the previous year, 339 BC, but the attempt was abandoned by Tiberius Aemilius Mamercus after hearing of the victory of his colleague, Quintus Publilius Philo, elsewhere in Latium.[3][4] This move angered the senate, and the unfinished battle became the highest priority for the next year. Therefore, when Maenius and Camillus were elected as consuls, they were ordered to leave at once for Pedum.[5]

Battle

The forces from Tibur and Praeneste, being the two cities closest to Pedum, had already arrived there, but the forces from Aricia, Lanuvium, and Velitrae had made for the Astura River with the intent of joining the Volscian force from Antium. They were intercepted and routed by Maenius. Meanwhile, Camillus set off for Pedum itself, where he engaged the larger armies of Tibur and Praeneste. Maenius, after having dealt with the armies at the Astura River, came to Pedum in order to assist Camillus, and the two quickly defeated the two remaining armies.[6]

Aftermath

After the victory at Pedum, the consuls spent the rest of their terms campaigning throughout Latium, effectively bringing an end to the Latin War. Upon returning to Rome, they were both rewarded with a triumph, and Equestrian statues in the Roman Forum, a rare honor for that time.[7]

[1] Liv. 8 13

[2]

[3] Liv. 8 12

[4] Smith, W. 1854. “Pedum.” In _Dictionary of Greek and Roman Geography_

[5]

[6]

[7]

title: Battle of Pedum (338 BC)

question: When was the Battle of Pedum fought?

answer: 338 BC.

question: Where was it fought?

answer: Near Pedum.

question: Who fought this battle?

answer: The Roman Republic and multiple cities in Latium.

question: Which year came before 338 BC?

answer: 339 BC.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The Battle of Pedum was fought in 338 BC, near Pedum between the Roman Republic and multiple cities in Latium. The Roman army was led by the consuls Gaius Maenius and Lucius Furius Camillus. The Romans won. Back in Rome, they were both rewarded with the erection of Equestrian statues in the Roman Forum, a rare honor for that time.


text:
PERRY COUNTY is a county located in the U.S. state of Tennessee. As of the 2010 census, the population was 7,915.[1] Its county seat is Linden.[2] The county was named after the War of 1812 naval hero Oliver Hazard Perry.

Perry County is served by Perry County Airport near Linden. Mousetail Landing State Park is located in the county.

History

Perry County was formed in 1819 from parts of Humphreys and Hickman counties. It is named in honor of Oliver Hazard Perry (1785–1819), American War of 1812 naval officer who, after his flagship was severely damaged, continued the fight from another ship and forced the surrender of the British fleet at the Battle of Lake Erie.[3] Decatur County was formed from the portions of Perry County west of the Tennessee River. The first settlements in the county were along Toms Creek near the Tennessee River, with the first known birth in the area occurring in 1818. This is the first written date involving the area that would become Perry County, but it is evident that the area had some European permanent settlement prior to this.[4] The seat of government and courts were originally located in a small town known as Harrisburg approximately south of the current seat of Linden. The county seat was transferred to its current location in Linden in 1848, where the current courthouse stands today. Harrisburg no longer exists as a municipal entity or recognized location.[5]

Perry County was severely impacted by the economic recession of 2008 and 2009. Unemployment reached 27%, making it the highest in the state of Tennessee, and one of the highest in the United States. The massive amount of unemployment was due to the closure of a major automotive parts plant that employed a significant portion of the county's residents.[6]

Geography

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the county has a total area of , of which is land and (1.9%) is water.[7] Perry County is bordered on the west by the Tennessee River (Kentucky Lake), and is bisected (north-south) by the Buffalo River. The eastern portion of Perry County is entirely drained by the Buffalo River and the western portion by the Tennessee River.

Adjacent counties

-   Humphreys County (north)
-   Hickman County (northeast)
-   Lewis County (southeast)
-   Wayne County (south)
-   Decatur County (west)
-   Benton County (northwest)

State protected areas

-   Mousetail Landing State Park

Demographics

As of the census[8] of 2010, there were 7,915 people, and 2,977 households residing in the county. The average household size was 2.55. The population density was 19.1 people per square mile. There were 4,599 housing units. The racial makeup of the county was 95.8% White, 1.5% Black or African American, 0.6% Native American, 0.2% Asian, and 1.5% from two or more races. 1.7% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race.

In the county, the population was spread out, with 28.4% under the age of 18, 52.9% from 18 to 64, and 18.7% who were 65 years of age or older. 49.8% of the population was female. The median age for the county was 41.7 years.

The median income for a household in the county was $32,054. The per capita income for the county was $16,367. About 20.2% of the population were below the poverty line.

Perry County has the lowest population density of any county in Tennessee.[9]

Communities

City

-   Lobelville

Town

-   Linden (county seat)

Unincorporated communities

-   Beardstown
-   Bethel
-   Blue Sky
-   Bunker Hill
-   Chestnut Grove
-   Crooked Creek
-   DePriest Bend
-   Flat Woods
-   Horner
-   Howard
-   Pine View
-   Pope
-   Spring Creek
-   Sugar Hill

Politics

Historically, like most of Middle Tennessee, Perry County was overwhelmingly Democratic. It did vote for Warren G. Harding in his record popular vote landslide of 1920, but otherwise no Republican presidential candidate managed to carry the county up to 2004. It did, though, give a plurality to segregationist Alabama Governor George Wallace in 1968, but became one of only six Wallace counties to vote for George McGovern against Richard Nixon’s 3,000-plus-county landslide of 1972.

Since 2000, Perry County has seen a very rapid trend towards the Republican Party.[10] In 2016, indeed, this historically Democratic county was only marginally less Republican than traditional Unionist Republican bastions of East Tennessee.

  Year                               Republican                                  Democratic                                  Third Parties
  ---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ----------------------------
  style=“text-align:center;” |2016   style=“text-align:center;” |75.9% _2,167_   style=“text-align:center;” |20.9% _597_     3.2% _91_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2012   style=“text-align:center;” |60.2% _1,578_   style=“text-align:center;” |37.9% _992_     2.0% _51_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2008   style=“text-align:center;” |53.2% _1,596_   style=“text-align:center;” |44.3% _1,329_   2.5% _75_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2004   style=“text-align:center;” |48.3% _1,522_   style=“text-align:center;” |50.1% _1,579_   1.6% _49_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2000   style=“text-align:center;” |40.7% _1,165_   style=“text-align:center;” |57.6% _1,650_   1.8% _51_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1996   style=“text-align:center;” |31.3% _747_     style=“text-align:center;” |60.5% _1,444_   8.2% _195_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1992   style=“text-align:center;” |24.3% _708_     style=“text-align:center;” |64.7% _1,889_   11.0% _322_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1988   style=“text-align:center;” |41.1% _854_     style=“text-align:center;” |58.2% _1,208_   0.7% _14_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1984   style=“text-align:center;” |41.8% _948_     style=“text-align:center;” |58.1% _1,316_   0.1% _3_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1980   style=“text-align:center;” |35.1% _783_     style=“text-align:center;” |62.8% _1,401_   2.2% _48_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1976   style=“text-align:center;” |23.6% _520_     style=“text-align:center;” |75.4% _1,660_   1.0% _21_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1972   style=“text-align:center;” |48.1% _900_     style=“text-align:center;” |50.1% _937_     1.8% _34_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1968   style=“text-align:center;” |25.6% _519_     style=“text-align:center;” |35.8% _726_     38.6% _784_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1964   style=“text-align:center;” |26.3% _514_     style=“text-align:center;” |73.7% _1,440_   style="text-align:center;|
  style=“text-align:center;” |1960   style=“text-align:center;” |37.1% _645_     style=“text-align:center;” |62.0% _1,076_   0.9% _16_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1956   style=“text-align:center;” |39.4% _694_     style=“text-align:center;” |59.8% _1,052_   0.8% _14_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1952   style=“text-align:center;” |39.0% _762_     style=“text-align:center;” |61.0% _1,192_   style="text-align:center;|
  style=“text-align:center;” |1948   style=“text-align:center;” |26.3% _459_     style=“text-align:center;” |68.4% _1,196_   5.3% _93_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1944   style=“text-align:center;” |33.4% _387_     style=“text-align:center;” |66.6% _771_     style="text-align:center;|
  style=“text-align:center;” |1940   style=“text-align:center;” |23.7% _332_     style=“text-align:center;” |76.1% _1,068_   0.2% _3_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1936   style=“text-align:center;” |18.9% _210_     style=“text-align:center;” |80.7% _896_     0.5% _5_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1932   style=“text-align:center;” |20.4% _182_     style=“text-align:center;” |79.0% _705_     0.7% _6_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1928   style=“text-align:center;” |36.8% _359_     style=“text-align:center;” |63.2% _616_     style="text-align:center;|
  style=“text-align:center;” |1924   style=“text-align:center;” |35.0% _268_     style=“text-align:center;” |64.5% _494_     0.5% _4_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1920   style=“text-align:center;” |51.9% _747_     style=“text-align:center;” |48.1% _692_     style="text-align:center;|
  style=“text-align:center;” |1916   style=“text-align:center;” |42.0% _483_     style=“text-align:center;” |57.6% _663_     0.4% _5_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1912   style=“text-align:center;” |32.2% _379_     style=“text-align:center;” |56.3% _664_     11.5% _136_

  : PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS RESULTS[11]

Notable individuals

-   Kelsie B. Harder – American professor and onomastician (name scholar)

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4] Perry County Historical Society, "Perry County History, Perry County Chamber of Commerce website. Retrieved: 30 October 2013.

[5]

[6] Michael Cooper, “In Tennessee Corner, Stimulus Meets New Deal,” _New York Times_, 27 July 2009. Retrieved: 30 October 2013.

[7]

[8]

[9] Tennessee Population Density County Rank, USA.com. Retrieved: 30 October 2013.

[10] Cohn, Nate; ‘Demographic Shift: Southern Whites’ Loyalty to G.O.P. Nearing That of Blacks to Democrats’, _New York Times_, April 24, 2014

[11]

title: Perry County, Tennessee

question: Summarize everything relating to historical figures.

answer: The county was named after Oliver Hazard Perry, a naval hero from the War of 1812. The county voted for Warren G. Harding in 1920, gave a plurality to Alabama Governor George Wallace in 1968, and voted for George McGovern against Richard Nixon in 1972.

question: What does the article say about the 2000s?

answer: Perry County was severely impaced by the economic recession of 2008 and 2009. Since 2000, the county has trended toward the Republican Party.

question: What does the article say about famous athletes from Perry County?