text:
The first rays of the mornings sun sting my face as I awake from a long restless sleep. I have grown used to the lack of rest. Ever since it happened.. My brother was taken by a group of bandits notoriously known as "The Smiling Men." I stare into the mirror hanging on the wall, what I see in the reflection shocks me, when did I start looking so rugged. I see my short brown hair, stubble out of control, scars cover my body. A product of the life I lead. I take one last long look into the bright blue eyes I share with my brother before I turn away. As I sit on the bed, I can't  help but wonder how my brothers family is faring, I must do something to bring him back. I get up and dress in my favorite garb, a long black trench coat with a round brim hat.  I must save my brothers life. Today is the day I set out on my journey. Today is the day I bring my brother back safely to his family.

	I grab my sword down from the wall, scoop up all the coins I have left, and head through the door. As I walk through the lively village,   I look around at all the people moving through their lives, no purpose, no goals, just passing the time until they die, sad really. Although I suppose I have always had a nhilistic view towards this shithole called Earth. I leave the village and prepare myself for the struggle ahead.

	I walk along a lonely stretch of road, trees in abundance. As I approach a particularly ominous section of the area, I grow weary. I see a large burly looking man step out from behind a large tree. Here I am, just travelling along the road minding my own business, and come across some confident little crook looking to rob innocent travelers. He comes strutting up to me, he might have a few brigands waiting, I must remain cautious .. "Give me your gold and you'll be on your way." I reply with "Try and take it." He was too slow on the draw, I drove my sword straight into his chin and he crumples lifelessly as his last bit of consciousness quickly slips away. A stir of movement from the trees and now I am surrounded by 4 angry foes, all with swords drawn, what a fantastic start to the day I think to myself as I size up my enemies. The first one lunges and I dodge to the side, kicking his left leg out simultaneously, I twirl around steel flashing as I catch the second one in the hip. He falls to the ground maimed. As I am distracted with him the other two rush me, a flurry of steel, blow after blow, I parry and dance around them all. One drops his guard for just a moment and I quickly seize opportunity ducking a blow and driving my sword straight through his heart, he drops and takes my sword with him. I quickly pull the dagger out of his belt and duck just in time to avoid a sword wooshing past my head, I jump on the attacker and drive my dagger straight through the eyehole in his visor. Now there is one. He hesitates slightly, having witnessed the entire battle with his friends, a quick burst of confidence causes him to charge me full force with his sword in the air, rookie mistake. I side step him and pull my sword out of his comrades breast. A quick parry and slash and now 5 lay dead around me. Child's play. I take what I need from their corpses, the dead have no need for earthly possessions, and I'm once again on my way.

	I sit in a pub, in the corner of a dimly lit room, drinking ale and observing everyone around me. I might as well stay here for a night, a nice alternative to the cold hard ground. As I am draining the last bit of ale, I hear my name being called. "ORNELL!!" As a familiar face comes walking up to me, "Aldo! I didn't expect to run into you here." Aldo was a fellow mercenary, and probably the closest thing I have to a friend. He has medium length straight hair and carries a Two-Handed greatsword. We have fought side by side in many battles, a hardened warrior.  "What are you doing so far from home, Ornell?" Aldo asks, curiosity teeming in his voice. "I am looking for information about The Smiling Men, I have some business that needs to be conducted with them." Aldo looks at me with those piercing green eyes "The Smiling Men? Ornell, don't tell me you are looking for a fight, you know how ruthless they are, and you know more than anyone how dangerous Oudin is.. They say he is the best killer alive.." I nod nonchalantly and stare into my cup, questioning whether or not I could trust Aldo. "They have taken my brother."

	I rise before the sun, having overheard information about the bandits the night before I am determined to follow the lead. I get dressed and head out the door, I pull my hat down so it covers most of my face and walk slowly through the street, looking for my mark. This town is ratty, most buildings appear to be unfit for human inhabitation. As I observe my surroundings I feel the familiar distaste brought to me by these zombie-like poor excuses for human beings. I can't stand the site of people wasting the potential of life sitting around waiting to die. I belie- wait, I think I found who I am looking for. As I see him slowly teeter into view, I knew this would be an easy task, I quickly duck into an alleyway as not to be seen prematurely. As soon as he rounds the corner I wrap one hand around his throat, and pull him into the alleyway. I toss him to the ground and put my sword to his throat. "So here's the deal, you are going to tell me everything you know about Oudin, and The Smiling Men, and I am going to give you a quick death." The despair is evident in his croaky voice. "I- I- I don't know anything!" I smile slyly and shove the tip of my sword into his knee. He screams in pure agony and tries reaching for his knee, but my foot on his chest holds him firmly in place. "Wrong answer friend, next I cut off your fingers one by one." He screams in desperation, his words slurred by too much drink "I ALREADY TOLD YOU I DON'T KNOW ANYTHNG!" With one quick slash three of his fingers are detached from his hand. He clutches the hand, clearly faint from the amount of pain being inflicted. "I'll ask one more time" As I drive my sword through his lower abdomen, he begins spitting up blood. "Tell me what you know" I say calmly as I sense the fear of The Smiling Men being over ran by the pain of torture. "Okay okay okay.." he says chokingly through the blood dribbling out of his mouth. He tells me everything I need to know. "Please.. I gave you what you want.. end my suffering.." I give him one last look of disgust before I slit his throat. I wander off to find Aldo.

	The sun is shining as I make my way back to the pub, somehow the condemnable buildings look less ominous in the light. As I walk through the door, I find Aldo enjoying breakfast, he looks up and catches sight of me. He waves me over, through words, muffled by food,  he yells "Ornell! Come enjoy some ale!" I smile as I take my seat. A breakfast consisting of eggs, chicken, and potatoes. "So, I followed the lead. He told me there are rumors of Oudin attacking a merchants wagon in the east" I say as I shovel eggs into my mouth. "Well, we have a destination now don't we." He says matter of factly after taking a swig of ale. I chuckle and look down at the table, the mornings events racing through my mind. "So, when do we dep-" His words are cut short as a large man starts yelling at the innkeep. "4 coins for this piss drink?!" He screams, spit flying out in the process. "I'm.. I'm sorry sir, I do not control the prices." The innkeep says through chattering teeth. The man throws the cup at her head and laughs as the blow drops her to the ground. Aldo grunts as he quickly stands up and charges the man. He drives his shoulder into his chest and tries dragging him to the ground, but the man counteracts by throwing him into the bar. Aldo stands up and smiles, he waits patiently. As the man winds up to take a huge swing, Aldo quickly moves in and wraps around him, one hand on his bicep to prevent the strike, the other around the back of his neck. With full force he slams the mans face into the counter and blood spurts. He crumples to the ground, teeth laying around him, labored breathing through a broken jaw. "Been too long since I've had a decent fight" Aldo jeers as he makes his way around the counter. He picks the innkeep up off the ground and plants a kiss on her hand. "I apologize for this brute fool my lady." I walk to the counter and place enough coins to cover the damage, the food, and the room for our stay. "Come, Aldo, let us be on our way."

	"Did you see the look of despair on his face right before I slammed him!" Aldo says, laughter ringing through the trees. I laugh along with him. "He almost shit himself for certain." "So, have you thought of what your plan might be once we reach the end of our journey?" Aldo asks curiously. "No, not yet, maybe I'll head over to Dawsbury and see if any nobles have need of my services, what about you? What were you doing back there at the pub?" "Ah, looking for fights!" We both chuckle as we continue along the dirt road. "You know, Ornell, it's been quite a while since we have crossed swords." "Indeed it has" I let out with a long sigh. Aldo perks up and with a sly look asks "Would you care to cross swords now, and see who of us is the better warrior?" Not one to back away from a challenge I agree. We both draw our swords, his clearly has the reach advantage being a few feet longer than mine. He slowly circles around my sword arm, and I lunge, he jumps to the side and swings his sword around in a long arcing blow. I block and strike him in the face with my elbow while his guard is down. He falls to the ground and I pounce, I jump on top of him and move my sword towards his throat, before it gets there he rolls out from under me and grabs up his sword. "Not a bad shot!" He says with a bloody smile. He runs at me and brings his greatsword down with a hard blow, I side step and swing my sword at his leg, he lifts his leg just in time to dodge the swing, I follow up with another aimed at his chest. He dodges back, and I quickly run forward and kick him in his chest while he is off balance. He rolls when he hits the ground to quickly be back on his feet. I hold my sword with both hands and swing full force at his shoulder, he uses the momentum against me and disarms me with one quick parry. He swings over and over as I am dodging every blow, he swings too wildly on one attempt and I quickly take advantage of it and grab up my sword. Again he swings and I spin around, place my leg behind his, and knock him to the ground with my shoulder, I quickly put my sword to his chest. "Yield!" He says, I laugh and help him up. "Ahh, Ornell, the years have done nothing to diminish your skill I see." I give a sarcastic chuckle and reply with "I wish I could say the same to you" We both laugh and continue on our way.

	We decided to make camp in a small forrest clearing, as I lay there wishing to be taken by sleeps sweet embrace I am troubled by visions of my past.. I struggle to repress them back into the deep fabrics of my mind. This.. This can't be real, I thought as I slowly push open the charred door, the smell of burnt wood and flesh fill my nostrils. I look around, desperately praying that this was all a horrible dream. I stand there in shock as every worry I had is realized. I immediately burst into tears and utter anguish as I rush to the site of the burnt body that used to be my wife, I drop to my knees, and clutch at my head as if I was going to rip my face off. I can't believe this is happening. I turn her over, and immediately throw up. No.. no.. no no no NO GOD NO!!! My son! He was my world! IS MY WORLD! She must have been trying to protect him from the fire. This CANNOT BE HAPPENING! WHY! I slump back into the floor, I grab- "Ornell, Ornell!" I awake to Aldo leaning over me, shaking me. "What are you doing Aldo?" "You were talking in your sleep, yelling no and rolling around.." I sit up, drenched in sweat, "Just.. a bad dream.." If only it were just a dream.. I gulped back tears as I tried hard to forget the past.

	Aldo and I quietly sneak along a hill covered in trees. We have reaced the hideout of The Smiling Men. We duck behind a rather large tree and listen as we hear random chatter. "I can't believe that fool, Ornell actually believes we took his brother.. HA!" what is he talking about? I think to myself. I quickly move along until I spot Oudin's tent. This place should be guarded.. Where is everyone.. Aldo draws his sword and walks out into the clearing. "Aldo, what are you doing, get back here" I whisper quietly. He gestures me over, I quickly draw my sword and follow. I look towards Oudin's tent.. Suddenly I feel my leg buckle and I'm down on one knee. Blinding pain shoots up my right leg. I drop my sword and grab onto my leg with both hands. I turn around to see Aldo's bloody sword and smug grin. "Once a fool, always a fool Ornell." He laughs in that smug way he does. Suddenly, the tent flaps start moving, and out emerges a figure.. "Brother?! Is that you? What is going on here, why are you walking free?" He smiles and walks over to me, sword in hand. "You fool, I am Oudin." He quickly drives his sword deep into my chest, I feel the cold bite of steel as every inch of metal penetrated my body. My consciousness starts to slip as I look up, dumbfounded. Oudin kneels down and stares deep into my eyes. "I want to make sure betrayal is the last thing you see as you die, Ornell." I stare into his eyes.. I see him stand up, and prepare for a swing.. He swung his swo-

The end

title: [FN] Ornell's Adventure

question: Who are "The Smiling Men"?

answer: "The Smiling Men" are a group of notorious bandits. Ornell believes that they have kidnapped his brother.

question: Describe all instances of violence in the story.

answer: Ornell is attacked by a bandit who he kills. Four more enemies appear, and Ornell dispatches them all. Ornell then tortures and kills a drunken man in order to obtain information about The Smiling Men. While at a pub, Ornell and Aldo get into a fight with a man who is being rude with the barkeep. They break his jaw. After, Ornell and Aldo spar. When the two approach The Smiling Men camp, Aldo betrays Ornell and cuts his leg. Oudin the kills Ornell.

question: What does Ornell have nightmares about?

answer: Ornell has a nightmare in which his house burns down with his wife in it. He clutches at her burned body.

question: Explain the twist at the end of the story.

answer: The twist at the end is that Aldo betrays Ornell, and that Oudin, the fearsome warrior, is actually Ornell's brother.


split: test

text:
CARLO AZZOLINI (died 1671) was a Roman Catholic prelate who served as Bishop of Bagnoregio (1650–1671).

Biography

On 9 Dec 1649, he was appointed during the papacy of Pope Innocent X as Bishop of Bagnoregio.[1][2] On 2 Jan 1650, he was consecrated bishop by Marcantonio Franciotti, Cardinal-Priest of Santa Maria della Pace, with Giovanni Battista Rinuccini, Archbishop of Fermo, and Giambattista Spínola (seniore), Archbishop of Acerenza e Matera, serving as co-consecrators.[3] He served as Bishop of Bagnoregio until his death on 18 Apr 1671.[4][5]

Episcopal succession

While bishop, he was the principal co-consecrator:[6]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: Carlo Azzolini

question: Who was Carlo Azzolini?

answer: A Roman Catholic prelate who served as Bishop of Barnoregio (1650-1671).

question: When was he appointed?

answer: During the papacy of Pope Innocent X

question: Who served as his consecrators?

answer: Giovanni Battista Rinuccini, Archbishop of Fermo, and Giambattista Spínola (seniore), Archbishop of Acerenza e Matera

question: Why did he stop being Bishop of Bagnoregio?

answer: He died in 1671

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Carlo Azzolini was a Roman Catholic prelate who served as Bishop of Barnoregio from 1650 to 1671. Appointed during the papacy of Pope Innocent X, he was consecreated by Giovanni Battista Rinuccini, Archbishop of Fermo, and Giambattista Spinola, Archbishop of Acerenza e Matera. He served until his death on April 18, 1671.


text:
The FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH OF EMMETT, at the northeast corner of 1st St. and Hayes Ave. in Emmett, Idaho, was built in 1915. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1980.[1]

The church faces south onto 1st St. It has “Italianesque round arches and an accompanying Renaissance flavor” and was designed by architects Nisbet & Paradice. The nomination document describes its exterior as “imposing”, and goes on:[2]

  The interior, with its belled walls, curving pews and excellent stained glass, is one of the finest—perhaps the finest at this scale—and most original in Idaho. The church is notable for its status as the only commission so far as is presently known of a Boise architectural office then of some importance Nisbet and Paradice. This elaborate local church was begun during a prosperous period in 1909, and not dedicated until 1915 or completely finished until still later. It kept its congregation in financial straits until 1924, but it was finished nonetheless.[3]

It is one of six churches within a two block area of Emmett, established there from 1906 to 1934, which were together studied proposed for listing on the National Register.[4] The six are: Catholic Church of the Sacred Heart (Emmett, Idaho), Emmett Presbyterian Church, First Baptist Church of Emmett, Methodist Episcopal Church (Emmett, Idaho), and St. Mary's Episcopal Church (Emmett, Idaho), which were all listed in 1980, and the First Full Gospel/United Pentecostal Church, which was not listed.[5][6]

[1]

[2]

[3]  With

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: First Baptist Church of Emmett

question: When was the First Baptist Church of Emmett built?

answer: It was built in 1915.

question: What important designation was the First Baptist Church of Emmett given?

answer: The church was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1980.

question: How is the church's architecture described in the article?

answer: The church's architecture is described as having Italianesque round arches and an accompanying Renaissance flavor.

question: What are the six churches that were proposed for listing on the National Register of Historic Places?

answer: The six churches were the Catholic Church of the Sacred Heart, Emmett Presbyterian Church, First Baptist Church of Emmett, Methodist Episcopal Church, and St. Mary's Episcopal Church.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This article describes the creation and architecture of the First Baptist Church of Emmett. This church was also listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1980.


text:
  Against  the  blood  red  sky, a lone helicopter
  hovers around the city looking for any trace of   survivors that might  be below. Down on what used   to be the peaceful city, (now referred to as ground   zero) the horrific cries of death and fear bellow   throughout the city. Never stopping.. Like a record     stuck in a loop. The dead have poured out from the   deepest depths of hell and returned to the living.     Devouring every living soul that they come across.     The city is in ruins. Overturned and abandoned cars     littler the street, buildings turned to ash from the     riots and looting, death and gore fill the streets   turning the once pure black asphalt now to a deep   murky red. Over the pain filled screams of the living   and the mindless groans of the undead, Kenton and   Elizabeth hear a desperate shriek
 from the   helicopter, “Any survivors that can hear me, get to  the roof tops NOW!!” Elizabeth’s
eyes and face light up with a hopeful glee. “We can   get out!” she exclaimed. “They’re here to save us.”
 Kenton’s face however, had that horrified look that   had been there since the infection ravished the city.   “Yeah, if we can even make it that far” he silently said to himself.

Kenton gazed around the corner of the hunting
supplies shop they had been trying to gain access
to. “There is an old grocery store about a block from
here that they should be able to see us from.”
Kenton said. “I don’t care what it is, as long as we
get the hell out of here.” Elizabeth murmured. “We’re
going to need guns if we are even going to stand a
chance at getting over there.” Kenton exclaimed. So,
Kenton pulled the last bobby pin out of his pocket
and slowly slipped it into the lock on the door that
opened the gun store they’d been hiding behind
silently. Saying a prayer under his breath he ever so
carefully and slowly maneuvered it until he heard
the slight clicking sound. “Thank you” he whispered.
He placed his sweaty palm around the knob and
slowly turned it being careful not to make a sound.
With it opened, he and Elizabeth let out a sigh of
relief as there was no one in the store. Luckily this
one hadn’t been looted in the chaos in the
beginning.

They slowly moved in, Elizabeth so close behind
Kenton, he could feel the warmth of her moist
breath. They found where the weapons had been
displayed. Kenton picked off a twelve gauge from the wall along with four boxes of shells, from the
display case he picked a .454 magnum up surprised
by the weight and the how the cool steel and
plywood felt in his grip than walked behind the
counter, and picked up three boxes of ammunition.
When he noticed the M-16 automatic rifle propped
up against the back of the counter. The owner of the
store was obviously planning to use but never got
the opportunity to. “Good, better for us.” He thought.
When he did he hated himself a little for being so
heartless. But quickly dismissed the feeling and
found where the ammunition had been stored and
picked it up along with the sling that had been
placed next to it and attached the sling and placed it
around his back. After loading the weapons and
putting the rest in a place where he could easily
access, he put the .454 in the gun holster he had
looted off a corpse that had been thoroughly
executed with a bullet to the back of the head.
Kenton could still vividly see the pool of blood and
skull fragments that had quietly settled around the
poor man in the back of his subconscious. He
snapped out of the gruesome thought and placed
the excess ammunition in his bag and decided there
wasn’t anywhere else to hold another gun and
began to gather up his newly stocked bag.

As he and Elizabeth were exiting the shop, he
noticed a door that he somehow missed upon first
arrival. On the other side of the door, he heard a wet
slurping noise that almost sounded like a dehydrated dog attempting to drink from its bowl. He didn’t know why, but he had to know what was on the other side of that door… He felt the cool metal against his sweaty anxious palm. He slowly turned the knob and the door opened. He immediately regretted the decision. What he seen would forever burned into his memory. In the dark crowded room, a man with a noose around his thick neck hung a foot off the ground. And around the poor souls feet was a thick pool of blood with bits and pieces of torn flesh and a… a half-eaten hand with three missing fingers… It was then that Kenton noticed one of the undead on the man. Its hands digging into the stomach of the man ripping it open with ease. Kenton stared in shock as the man’s small intestine slowly slip out and dangled inches off the ground slowly swaying back and forth and the undead man took giant bites into the poor man’s flesh. And in a hypnotic gaze Kenton watched as the blood poured out of the man like a waterfall hitting the ground making the pool bigger. He had failed to notice Elizabeth screaming at him and the undead man now absent from the scene and who was now shambling towards him. And when he did, it was too late. The undead man fell onto Kenton with his full weight, taking all the breath out of him. In a panicked set of motions he desperately reached for the .454 that was in its holster. But as he did, time seemed to freeze. He stared into its lifeless eyes that were now pure glossy white, no pupil or lens left, which terrified Kenton. But when he looked upon the mouth of the creature he felt a fear that he had never experienced before, a mind numbing fear that sent a cold shiver to his very core. The undead man was grinning at him. An evil, soulless, demonic grin that took the color out of his face… He then seemed to float out of his body and watch the events unfold. Like a dream. He watched as he pulled out the .454, centered the gun against its temple, cocked the hammer back, and pulled the trigger spraying the opposing wall with thick murky blood, brain matter, and bits of skull fragment.

He snapped back into reality. He quickly jumped to his feet knowing the gunshot that still buzzed in his almost deafened ears would certainly alert more to their presence. He quickly grabbed Elizabeth and turned to run out the door. It was then he noticed the man who hung himself had reanimated, and was desperately trying to break free of the noose but to no success. He felt pity on the man. He pointed his magnum at his head and shot. There was now a gaping hole where the man’s left eyes once was. With that, they quickly evacuated the shop and made a desperate run towards the old grocery store. By the time Kenton and Elizabeth got halfway to the store dozens of the undead were running after them. “FASTER!” Kenton shouted as he was firing rounds off into the crowd. They reached the store, and put a little distance between themselves and the horde.

 But once they stepped inside they looked upon the store with horror. The undead were here. Hordes of them. They looked up from the piles of dead they were feasting on eyes fixed upon Kenton and Elizabeth. “Run!” screamed Kenton. They broke into a sprint with the undead not far behind running after them. Kenton managed to blow the heads off a couple with the .454 while firing into the horde behind them. They had finally reached the stairs and only one appeared on them. Kenton ran up next to it, took the 12 gauge that Elizabeth had been holding and shoved the barrel into its mouth as it let out a high pitched moan and fired. Completely blowing of the lower portion of the undead’s head sending it spiraling over the railing doing acrobatics as it flew down. They ran up the emergency stair well all the way to the roof and quickly slammed the door shut. Kenton took the opportunity to reload his various weapons. The nearby hovering chopper saw them and quickly flew over to the roof the couple was on. It flew close enough for the couple to get on board. Kenton picked up Elizabeth’s small figure with ease and quickly handed her to the soldier who was completely decked out in full protective body gear and a gas mask making him appear bulky and overweight. As she safely got aboard, Kenton slowly stepped back and gazed at her. She looked at him with confused gaze. “Kenton what in the hell are you doing?! Get up here NOW!!” She screamed almost crying now. He didn’t say anything. He just stood and looked at her perfect features. Her soft red hair flowing in the wind, her flawless complexion, her gorgeous face… Everything about her perfection he took in one last time. “I’m sorry my love I can’t go…” He said with tears rolling down his cheeks. Elizabeth only than noticed the deep bite mark that protruded his neck already making the skin around the wound decay. “NO!!!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs she was now bawling. She attempted to jump out to hug him but was stopped by the solider. “Please don’t cry my love. You are safe, that’s all that matters… I promised I’d keep you safe and I did. Be happy my love. I love you so much and I always will Elizabeth.” He took the wedding ring off his finger, and placed it in the palm of her hands and kissed her goodbye.

 That’s when the door broke down and dozens of the undead poured out. “I love you” he cried as the helicopter lifted into the air and took off. He then turned and faced the now approaching undead horde. The 12 gauge in his hands and the M-16 dangling carelessly around his back. He opened fire into the horde blowing off limbs and sending groups of them spiraling backwards. Through the thick red mist created by their blood, he could see that demonic grin they all seemed to have. “Damn out of ammo he said.” He then dropped the weapon to his feet and pulled the M-16 from around his back and opened fire into the oncoming horde. He was unsure of how many he had actually killed. The blood spurting out of the undead bodies like water erupting from a geyser.  Spraying bullet after bullet into the undead mass that was now sprinting towards him, Kenton heard the distinct ping sound indicating that the gun was now out of ammo. Not wasting any time Kenton dropped the M-16 and pulled his .454 magnum out. Glancing down upon it the looking at the undead horde sprinting at him, he slowly lifted the gun to his temple, cocked the hammer back, whispered the words “I love you Elizabeth” one last time and gently pulled the trigger. The last thing that Elizabeth saw as the helicopter escaped the building that’s rooftop was now painted red was the faint red mist coming from Kenton’s skull and his body slowly falling into oblivion, than hitting the ground with a horrid thumping noise that would haunt her forever

title: Against the Blood Red Sky

question: What lay on the other side of the door?

answer: A man was hanging with a noose around his neck. A pool of blood lay around his feet with bits and pieces of torn flesh.

question: What relationship does Kenton share with Elizabeth?

answer: Kenton and Elizabeth were married and trying to escape the place. Amidst all this, Elizabeth escapes while Kenton dies.

question: What would have happened had Kenton not opened the door?

answer: It may be implied that Kenton and Elizabeth would have escaped safely.


text:
A little introduction to this writing: The year is 1997. You have to realize that this year was significant as how we contacted our friends. We were at the start of the mobile generation. People my age, 16 at the time, did not have mobile phones unless their parents were rich, mine weren’t and even if they were, my friends didn’t have mobile phones. So to contact friends you would call to their house and ask their parents if they are present. If not, you would probably have to search for them at spots they might be at.

----------

It's the last Friday evening of summer holiday. I had received my student travel card (free travel in public transport) earlier that day and even though I hadn’t planned anything that evening, I decide to catch a train and try to find my friends who live in a city nearby. I grab my bike, light up a spliff and head of to the train station. At this time of evening, there aren't much people at the station. I'm glad because smoking weed makes me paranoid sometimes. It makes me feel as if people are staring.

As I enter the train, the sun has already set and the absence of most of the moon, because of the time of the month, makes it darker than usual. As the train starts to leave I get the sudden urge to get out. Is it the weed that drives me or some outside force? I don’t know why but I lost the interest of visiting my friends that evening. So I get out at the next station and head for the platform for the return train. I’m the only one there.

As I light a cigarette and just sit there with not much to distract me other than my thoughts, I notice a girl is passing me by. A beautiful girl with long black curly hair and large dark eyes. I can see that she has been crying, because of the red and puffy eyes. She looks middle-eastern to me. Young, probably just a little older than me. She is wearing a white summer dress. Not tight but it outlines her butcheeks by the way she is standing. Her back shows just enough skin and my teenage hormones are starting to rage. I can only imagine the things I want to do to her before I awaken from my thoughts. I hear the rumbling of the train and see the girl standing on the edge of the platform, about 60 feet away from me. It’s dark, but the lanterns shine bright enough for me to see that her shoulders are shaking a bit. I hear a faint cry. I realize what is about to take place.
I need to act. I do not want to see her organs all over the place, nor do I want to be stuck there for hours. There is nothing heroic about this, I am just thinking about my own interests. Might she even go down on me? My hormones still rage. I walk to her, she hasn’t noticed me yet. She jumps on the tracks.

At this point my focus shifts. I hear no sound but see everything so clear. Because of the bright lights of the incoming train I can’t estimate the distance but it looks like I can make it. My heart skips a beat. I jump on the tracks and pick her up as if she weighs nothing. The fabric of her dress is so thin it feels like I am toughing her skin. I don't want to let go, I want to keep my hands on her. So soft. I lift her on the platform and jump on there just in time as I feel the warm summer wind of the passing train. It was too close. Sound returns and I hear the ear deafening sound of shrieking brakes on the train. The girl is crying frantically. She speaks English with a thick accent: “I don’t want to live, I don’t want to live, why, why?”. I realize I can’t help her. What do I know of her problems? I’m just a 16 year old horny boy with a pretty easy life. I don’t understand her pain. I decide to hug her, my hands on her waist. She feels warm. The only reason she doesn't feel my excitement against her belly is because she is in shock. The train engineer is suddenly standing behind me and asks "Do you need help?" I let go as I realize he is talking to her. He walks to the girl. She clearly doesn’t want to be helped and runs off. The engineer turns to me: “Thanks. I don’t know what else to say, just thanks.” I realize why. I can see his eyes are watery and just say: “No problem, mind if I get in?” I ask because this is the intercity that isn’t supposed to stop at this train station. He doesn’t mind. I get in the (nearly empty) train and after a minute the train conductor joins me. He sits down and stays silent for half a minute as he looks at me. He thanks me for preventing a ruined weekend. His daughter is going to celebrate her 4th birthday. He wanted me to know that. I don't understand why he tells me. He hands me a flyer about how to contact some -help after trauma- center. I throw it away, I don’t need help.

Fast forward 3 weeks. School has started. It’s a new school for me by the way. We are having lunch and a class mate is telling me about her aunt, who saw a few weeks before that, from her home, how some guy selflessly saved a girl from getting run over by a train on that station. I said nothing while my hormones started to rage again.

note: I don't write. I have never written anything other than this and will probably never write again. Besides my mother, who doesn't live anymore I never told anyone so I decided to write it down.
Also, English isn't my native language so I will blame any mistake/error/grammatical flaw to that.
Lastly, I have never heard about the girl again. I sometimes wonder if she tried again, why she was crying and didn't want to live. I hope she is happy.

title: [NF] Selfishly

question: Who does the narrator save from the train?

answer: A middle eastern girl.

question: Why does the narrator save her from the train?

answer: He does not want to have to deal with the waiting a death would mean and he is attracted to her.

question: What does the train conductor give the narrator?

answer: A trauma booklet.

question: Does the narrator ever tell anyone this story?

answer: No

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: In 1997 the narrator, then 16, sees a girl about to kill herself on a train platform. He jumps in front of it and saves her because he is attracted to her. She runs away. The train conductor thanks him and gives him a book about trauma. He never tells anyone, although some of his friends talk about the guy who saved the girl by the train.


text:
S5-HVS1 is an A-type main-sequence star notable as the fastest one detected as of November 2019, and has been determined to be traveling at .[1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] The star is in the Grus (or Crane) constellation in the southern sky, and about 29,000 light-years from Earth. According to astronomers, S5-HVS1 was ejected from the Milky Way galaxy after interacting with Sagittarius A*, the supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy.[10][11] It is possible that it was originally part of a binary system that was tidally disrupted by the supermassive black hole, causing it to be ejected. If this is the case, that it was flung out of the galaxy by the central black hole, it is then the first example of a star that has undergone the Hills mechanism.

The star's discovery has been credited to Sergey Koposov, assistant professor of physics at Carnegie Mellon University, as part of the Southern Stellar Stream Spectroscopic Survey (S5). The designation HVS1 refers to hypervelocity stars (HVS).[12]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12] Carnegie Mellon University, 1, Science Daily, 12 November 2019

title: S5-HVS1

question: What is S5-HVS1?

answer: It is the fastest A-type main-sequence star detected as of November 2019.

question: Where is S5-HVS1 located and how far is it from the Earth?

answer: The star is in the Grus (or Crane) constellation in the southern sky, about 29,000 light-years from Earth.

question: What is Sagittarius A?

answer: It is the supermassive black hole at the center of the galaxy.

question: Who is Sergey Koposov?

answer: At the time of writing, he is an assistant professor of physics at Carnegie Mellon University part of the Southern Stellar Stream Spectroscopic Survey (S5) credited as being the one who discovered the star.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: In November 2019, Sergey Koposov, assistant professor of physics at the Carnegie Mellon University part of the Southern Stellar Stream Spectroscopic Survey (S5) discovered S5-HVS1, the fastest A-type main-sequence star at the time. The star is in the Grus (or Crane) constellation in the southern sky, about 29,000 light-years from Earth.


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: Where was the creature found?

answer: The creature was found in the deserts of Egypt.

question: How many arms does the creature have?

answer: The creature has four arms.

question: How does the protagonist defeat the creature?

answer: The protagonist burns the creature alive.

question: What happened to the last two survivors?

answer: One survivor killed himself and the other defeated the creature.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The emperor has captured an alien creature and is making his gladiators fight it. The last one manages to kill it with fire, and it is sucked back to where it came from.


text:
JOSEPH MARQUIS DUPLEIX (23 January 1697 – 10 November 1763) was Governor-General of French India and rival of Robert Clive.

Biography

Dupleix was born in Landrecies, on January 23, 1697. His father, François Dupleix, a wealthy _fermier général_, wished to bring him up as a merchant, and, in order to distract him from his taste for science, sent him on a voyage to India in 1715 on one of the French East India Company's vessels. He made several voyages to the Americas and India, and in 1720 was named a member of the superior council at Bengal. He displayed great business aptitude, and in addition to his official duties made large ventures on his own account, acquiring a fortune.

In 1730 he was made superintendent of French affairs in Chandernagore. Under his administration, the town and grew into great depression. In 1741, he married Jeanne Albert, widow of one of the councillors of the company. Albert was known to the Hindus as Joanna Begum and proved of great help to her husband in his negotiations with the native princes.

His reputation procured him in 1742 the appointment of governor general of all French establishments in India.[1] Dupleix saw in the constant succession disputes among the Princes of India an opportunity to advance the interests of the French in India,[2] and for this purpose he entered into relations with the native princes, and adopted a style of oriental splendour in his dress and surroundings. He built an army of native troops, called sepoys, who were trained as infantry men in his service and also included the famous Hyder Ali of Mysore.

The British were alarmed by this, but the danger to their settlements and power was partly averted by the bitter mutual jealousy which existed between Dupleix and Bertrand François Mahé de La Bourdonnais, French governor of the Isle of Bourbon (today's La Réunion).

[Dupleix meeting the Subadar of the Deccan, Murzapha Jung]

When the city of Madras capitulated to the French following the Battle of Madras[3] in 1746, Dupleix opposed that the town be returned under British rule, thus violating the treaty signed by La Bourdonnais. He then sent an expedition against Fort St David (1747), which won over the Nawab of Arcot, ally of the British. Dupleix again attempted the capture of Fort St David, and this time succeeded.

In 1748 Kolkata was besieged by the French, but in the course of the operations news arrived of the peace concluded between the French and the British at Aix-la-Chapelle. Dupleix next entered into negotiations about the subjugation of southern India. He sent a large body of troops to the aid of the two claimants of the sovereignty of the Carnatic and the Deccan. The British sided with their rivals to prevent the plans of Dupleix from materializing.

In 1750 the Subadar of Deccan gifted the Alamparai Fort to the French. This was a token of his appreciation of the services of Dupleix and the French forces to his services.

From 1751, Dupleix tried to expand French influence in Burma by sending the envoy Sieur de Bruno, and by providing military assistance the Mon in their conflict with the Burmese British Empire. The French defeated British in Burma, resulting in the French conquest of the country.[4]

The conflicts between the French and the British in India continued until 1754.

Commemoration

[Dupleix on Banque de l'Indochine banknote] A number of things were named in his honour:

-   A square, road and metro station in the 15th _arrondissement_ of Paris are named after him.
-   Four French warships have borne his name (beside two commercial ships):
    -   The steam corvette _Dupleix_ (1861–1887), famous for her involvement in the Japanese revolution
    -   A 7700-tonne armoured cruiser (1897–1919)
    -   A 10,000 tonne cruiser (1929–1942), scuttled in Toulon
    -   The F70 type frigate _Dupleix_, currently in commission.
-   A road in New Delhi near the Indian parliament named after him.
-   _Rue Dupleix_ (_Dupleix Street_) was the former name of Nehru Street in Pondicherry.

Statue of Joseph Francois Dupleix at Puducherry Beach

[Monument to Dupleix in Puducherry] Dupleix left Puducherry in 1754, French recognition of his contribution came only in 1870, with the commissioning of two statues-one in Puducherry and the other in France. It is now situated in Goubert Avenue at the end of Rock Beach. It was first installed on 16 July 1870. In 1979 the statue was moved from its previous location in the middle of the current Bharathy park to the current location at the beach.

Dupleix is represented as a man of commanding stature. In the large nose and massive under jaw, some resemblance may be traced to Oliver cromwell as commonly represented in his portraits. In the statue, Dupleix wears Court dress with bag wig and long riding boots; In his right hand is a plan of Puducherry, his left reposing on the hilt of his sword. Some say the statue also portrays the looting that he undertook from India to France.[5]

Restoration of the Dupleix statue was undertaken by the Public Works Department (PWD) of the government of Puducherry in 2014.[6]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4] Burma Editor Sir Reginald Coupland, K.C.M.G., C.I.E., M.A., D.LITT. Late Bcit Professor of the History of the British Empire in the University of Oxford, p78-82

[5]

[6]

title: Joseph François Dupleix

question: What does the text say about Dupleix's family?

answer: Dupleix's father was Francois Dupleix, a wealthy fermier general and wanted him to be a merchant.

question: What does the text say about Dupleix's wife?

answer: In 1741, Dupleix married Jeanne Albert, a widow of one of the councilors of the company.

question: What does the text say about Dupleix's children?

question: What does the text say about the court?


text:
[Joe Biden]

Joe Biden.
 Charles Mostoller/Reuters
-   Lucy Flores, a Democratic politician from Nevada, alleged that former Vice President Joe Biden grabbed her shoulders from behind and kissed the back of her head without her consent during a campaign event in 2014.
-   The alleged incident happened while Biden visited Las Vegas to campaign with Flores during her race for lieutenant governor of Nevada.
-   Flores made her allegations public in a piece in New York Magazine on Friday, writing that Biden's actions were "demeaning and disrespectful" and made her feel "uneasy, gross, and confused."

Lucy Flores, a Democratic politician from Nevada, alleged that former Vice President Joe Biden grasped her shoulders from behind and kissed the back of her head without her consent during a campaign event in 2014.

The alleged incident, which Flores discussed for the first time publicly in a Friday New York Magazine piece, happened while Biden visited Las Vegas to campaign with Flores during her race for lieutenant governor of Nevada.

Flores, who was 35 at the time, wrote that while she was preparing to go onstage at a rally, Biden came up behind her, put his hands on her shoulders, smelled her hair, and kissed the back of her head.

"He proceeded to plant a big slow kiss on the back of my head," she wrote. "My brain couldn't process what was happening. I was embarrassed. I was shocked. I was confused."

Flores said Biden's actions made her feel "uneasy, gross, and confused" and that she quickly moved away from him and walked onstage.

"The vice-president of the United States of America had just touched me in an intimate way reserved for close friends, family, or romantic partners — and I felt powerless to do anything about it," she wrote. "Even if his behavior wasn't violent or sexual, it was demeaning and disrespectful."

Flores alleged that Biden has exhibited similar behavior in many other documented interactions with women. She pointed to several photographs of Biden embracing, kissing, and otherwise intimately touching women, some of whom appear uncomfortable.

"I'm not suggesting that Biden broke any laws, but the transgressions that society deems minor (or doesn't even see as transgressions) often feel considerable to the person on the receiving end," she wrote. "That imbalance of power and attention is the whole point — and the whole problem."

Flores said she discussed the incident with a few of her staffers, but decided there was little she could do to address the incident, so she moved on. Given widespread recent speculation that Biden will announce his 2020 presidential run in the coming weeks, Flores said she felt she had to come forward with her experience.

"Hearing Biden’s potential candidacy for president discussed without much talk about his troubling past as it relates to women became too much to keep bottled up any longer," she wrote.

In response to the New York Magazine piece, a spokesperson from the Biden campaign released the following statement, which was shared by reporters on Twitter:

  "Vice President Biden was pleased to support Lucy Flores's candidacy for Lieutenant Governor of Nevada in 2014 and to speak on her behalf at a well-attended public event.

  "Neither then, nor in the years since, did he or the staff with him at the time have an inkling that Ms. Flores had been at any time uncomfortable, nor do they recall what she describes.

  "But Vice President Biden believes that Ms. Flores has every right to share her own recollection and reflections, and that is a change for better in our society that she has the opportunity to do so. He respects Ms. Flores as a strong and independent voice in our politics and wishes her only the best."

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question: Summarize Lucy Flores' feelings and account of her meeting with Joe Biden.

answer: Lucy Flores, a Democratic politician from Nevada, said Joe Biden grabbed her shoulders from behind and kissed the back of her head without her consent during a campaign event. This incident happened in 2018 when Biden visited Las Vegas to campaign with Flores during her race for the Lieutenant Governor of Nevada. She explained that Biden's actions made her feel gross, uneasy, and confused. Flores discussed this incident on the rumors of Biden announcing his 2020 presidential run in a few weeks.

question: What charges will Lucy Flores be bringing against Biden in court?


text:
ARVO PÄRT (; born 11 September 1935) is an Estonian composer of classical and religious music. Since the late 1970s, Pärt has worked in a minimalist style that employs his self-invented compositional technique, tintinnabuli. Pärt's music is in part inspired by Gregorian chant. His most performed works include _Fratres_ (1977), _Spiegel im Spiegel_ (1978), and _Für Alina_ (1976). From 2011 to 2018, Pärt was the most performed living composer in the world, and the second most performed in 2019. The Arvo Pärt Centre, in Laulasmaa, was opened to the public in 2018.

Life

Pärt was born in Paide, Järva County, Estonia, and was raised by his mother and stepfather in Rakvere in northern Estonia.[1] He began to experiment with the top and bottom notes of the family's piano as the middle register was damaged.[2] Pärt's musical education began at the age of seven when he began attending music school in Rakvere. By his early teenage years, Pärt was writing his own compositions. His first serious study came in 1954 at the Tallinn Music Middle School, but less than a year later he temporarily abandoned it to fulfill military service, playing oboe and percussion in the army band.[3] After his military service he attended the Tallinn Conservatory, where he studied composition with Heino Eller[4] and it was said of him, “he just seemed to shake his sleeves and the notes would fall out”.[5] As a student, he produced music for film and the stage. During the 1950s, he also completed his first vocal composition, the cantata _Meie aed_ ('Our Garden') for children's choir and orchestra. He graduated in 1963. From 1957 to 1967, he worked as a sound producer for the Estonian public radio broadcaster Eesti Rahvusringhääling.

Tikhon Khrennikov criticized Pärt in 1962 for employing serialism in _Nekrolog_ (1960), the first 12-tone music written in Estonia,[6] which exhibited his “susceptibility to foreign influences”. But nine months later Pärt won First Prize in a competition of 1,200 works, awarded by the all-_Union Society of Composers_, indicating the Soviet regime's inability to agree on what was permissible.[7] His first overtly sacred piece, _Credo_ (1968), was a turning point in his career and life; on a personal level he had reached a creative crisis that led him to renounce the techniques and means of expression used so far; on a social level the religious nature of this piece resulted in him being unofficially censured and his music disappearing from concert halls. For the next eight years he composed very little, focusing instead on study of medieval and Renaissance music to find his new musical language. In 1972 he converted from Lutheranism to Orthodox Christianity.[8][9]

Pärt reemerged as a composer in 1976 with music in his new compositional style and technique, _tintinnabuli_.[10] In 1980, after a prolonged struggle with Soviet officials, he was allowed to emigrate with his wife and their two sons. He lived first in Vienna, where he took Austrian citizenship, and then relocated to Berlin in 1981. He returned to Estonia around the turn of the 21st century and for a while lived alternately in Berlin[11] and Tallinn.[12] He now resides in Laulasmaa, about from Tallinn.[13] He speaks fluent German as a result of living in Germany since 1981.[14][15][16]

On 10 December 2011, Pope Benedict XVI appointed Pärt a member of the Pontifical Council for Culture for a five-year renewable term.[17]

In 2014 _The Daily Telegraph_ described Pärt as possibly “the world's greatest living composer” and “by a long way, Estonia's most celebrated export”. When asked how Estonian he felt his music to be, Pärt replied: “I don't know what is Estonian... I don't think about these things.” Unlike many of his fellow Estonian composers, Pärt never found inspiration in the country's epic poem, _Kalevipoeg_, even in his early works. Pärt said “My _Kalevipoeg_ is Jesus Christ.”[18]

In 2010 the Pärt family established The Arvo Pärt Centre, an institution responsible for maintaining his personal archive, in the village of Laulasmaa. A new building of the centre opened to the visitors on 17 October 2018, containing a concert hall, a library, and research facilities. The centre also offers educational programmes for children and operates as an international information centre on Pärt's life and work.[19]

In April 2020, after receiving an award from the BBVA Foundation, Pärt gave an interview to the Spanish newspaper _ABC_ about the coronavirus crisis.[20]

Musical development

Familiar works by Pärt are _Cantus in Memoriam Benjamin Britten_ for string orchestra and bell (1977) and the string quintet _Fratres I_ (1977, revised 1983), which he transcribed for string orchestra and percussion, the solo violin “Fratres II” and the cello ensemble “Fratres III” (both 1980).

Pärt is often identified with the school of minimalism and, more specifically, that of mystic minimalism or holy minimalism.[21] He is considered a pioneer of the latter style, along with contemporaries Henryk Górecki and John Tavener.[22] Although his fame initially rested on instrumental works such as _Tabula Rasa_ and _Spiegel im Spiegel_, his choral works have also come to be widely appreciated.

In this period of Estonian history, Pärt was unable to encounter many musical influences from outside the Soviet Union except for a few illegal tapes and scores. Although Estonia had been an independent state at the time of Pärt's birth, the Soviet Union occupied it in 1940 as a result of the Soviet–Nazi Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact; and the country would then remain under Soviet domination—except for the three-year period of German wartime occupation—for the next 51 years.

Compositions

[Pärt at the Estonian Foreign Ministry in 2011] Pärt's works are generally divided into two periods. He composed his early works using a range of neo-classical styles influenced by Shostakovich, Prokofiev, and Bartók. He then began to compose using Schoenberg's twelve-tone technique and serialism. This, however, not only earned the ire of the Soviet establishment but also proved to be a creative dead-end. When early works were banned by Soviet censors, Pärt entered the first of several periods of contemplative silence, during which he studied choral music from the 14th to 16th centuries.[23] In this context, Pärt's biographer, Paul Hillier, observed that “he had reached a position of complete despair in which the composition of music appeared to be the most futile of gestures, and he lacked the musical faith and willpower to write even a single note.”[24]

The spirit of early European Polyphony informed the composition of Pärt's transitional Third Symphony (1971); thereafter he immersed himself in early music, reinvestigating the roots of Western music. He studied plainsong, Gregorian chant and the emergence of polyphony in the European Renaissance.

The music that began to emerge after this period was radically different. This period of new compositions included the 1977 works _Fratres_, _Cantus in Memoriam Benjamin Britten_ and _Tabula Rasa_.[25] Pärt describes the music of this period as “tintinnabuli”—like the ringing of bells. _Spiegel im Spiegel_ (1978) is a well-known example that has been used in many films. The music is characterised by simple harmonies, often single unadorned notes, or triads, which form the basis of Western harmony. These are reminiscent of ringing bells. Tintinnabuli works are rhythmically simple and do not change tempo. Another characteristic of Pärt's later works is that they are frequently settings for sacred texts, although he mostly chooses Latin or the Church Slavonic language used in Orthodox liturgy instead of his native Estonian language. Large-scale works inspired by religious texts include _Berliner Messe_, _St. John Passion_ and _Te Deum_; the author of the famous text of _Litany_ is the 4th-century theologian John Chrysostom.[26] Choral works from this period include _Magnificat_ and _The Beatitudes_.[27]

Reception, awards and recent compositions

Pärt was the most performed living composer in the world from 2011 to 2018, but then the second-most performed composer, after John Williams.[28] Of Pärt's popularity, Steve Reich has written: Pärt's music came to public attention in the West largely thanks to Manfred Eicher who recorded several of Pärt's compositions for ECM Records starting in 1984. Pärt wrote _Cecilia, vergine romana_ on an Italian text about life and martyrdom of Saint Cecilia, the patron saint of music, for choir and orchestra on a commission for the Great Jubilee in Rome, where it was performed, close to her feast day on 22 November, by the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia conducted by Myung-whun Chung.

Invited by Walter Fink, Pärt was the 15th composer featured in the annual Komponistenporträt of the Rheingau Musik Festival in 2005 in four concerts. Chamber music included _Für Alina_ for piano, played by himself, _Spiegel im Spiegel_ and _Psalom_ for string quartet. The chamber orchestra of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra played his _Trisagion_, _Fratres_ and _Cantus_ along with works of J.S. Bach. The Windsbach Boys Choir and soloists Sibylla Rubens, Ingeborg Danz, Markus Schäfer and Klaus Mertens performed _Magnificat_ and _Collage über B-A-C-H_ together with two Bach cantatas and one by Mendelssohn. The Hilliard Ensemble, organist Christopher Bowers-Broadbent, the Rostock Motet Choir and the Hilliard instrumental ensemble, conducted by , performed a program of Pärt's organ music and works for voices (some _a cappella_), including _Pari intervallo_, De profundis, and Miserere.

A composition, _Für Lennart_, written for the memory of the Estonian President, Lennart Meri, was played at Meri's funeral service on 2 April 2006.

In response to the murder of the Russian investigative journalist Anna Politkovskaya in Moscow on 7 October 2006, Pärt declared that all of his works performed in 2006 and 2007 would be in honour of her death, issuing the following statement: “Anna Politkovskaya staked her entire talent, energy and—in the end—even her life on saving people who had become victims of the abuses prevailing in Russia.”[29]

[Pärt with his wife Nora in 2012] Pärt was honoured as the featured composer of the 2008 RTÉ Living Music Festival[30] in Dublin, Ireland. He was also commissioned by Louth Contemporary Music Society[31] to compose a new choral work based on “Saint Patrick's Breastplate”, which premiered in 2008 in Louth, Ireland. The new work, _The Deer's Cry_, is his first Irish commission, and received its debut in Drogheda and Dundalk in February 2008.[32]

Pärt's 2008 Fourth Symphony is named _Los Angeles_ and was dedicated to Mikhail Khodorkovsky. It was Pärt's first symphony written since his Third Symphony of 1971. It premiered in Los Angeles, California, at the Walt Disney Concert Hall on 10 January 2009,[33] and was nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Classical Contemporary Composition in 2010.[34]

On 26 January 2014, Tõnu Kaljuste, conducting the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, the Sinfonietta Riga, the Tallinn Chamber Orchestra, the Latvian Radio Choir and the Vox Clamantis ensemble, won a Grammy for Best Choral Performance for a performance of Pärt's _Adam's Lament_.[35] Describing aspects of Pärt's music as “glocal” in approach, Estonian musicologist Kerri Kotta noted that the composer “has been able to translate something very human into sound that crosses the borders normally separating people.”[36]

Awards

-   1996 – American Academy of Arts and Letters Department of Music[37]
-   1996 – Honorary Doctor of Music, University of Sydney

-   1998 – Honorary Doctor of Arts, University of Tartu[38]
-   2003 – Honorary Doctor of Music, Durham University

-   2006 – Order of the National Coat of Arms 1st Class[39]
-   2007 – Brückepreis

-   2008 – Léonie Sonning Music Prize, Denmark
-   2008 – Austrian Cross of Honour for Science and Art, First Class

-   2009 – Foreign Member, Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts
-   2010 – Honorary Doctor of Music, University of St Andrews

-   2011 – Chevalier (Knight) of Légion d'honneur, France

-   2011 – Membership of the Pontifical Council for Culture

-   2013 – Archon of the Ecumenical Patriarchate[40]
-   2014 – Recipient of the Praemium Imperiale award, Japan[41]
-   2014 – Honorary Doctor of Sacred Music, Saint Vladimir's Orthodox Theological Seminary

-   2016 – Honorary Doctor of Music, University of Oxford[42]
-   2017 – Ratzinger Prize, Germany[43]
-   2018 – Gold Medal for Merit to Culture – Gloria Artis, Poland[44]
-   2018 – Honorary Doctor of Music, Fryderyk Chopin University of Music[45]
-   2019 – Cross of Recognition, 2nd Class, Latvia[46]
-   2020 – Frontiers of Knowledge Award, BBVA Foundation, Spain[47]

[1]

[2] Arvo Pärt, Sinfini Music website

[3]

[4] New York City Ballet program notes in _Playbill,_ January 2008.

[5] P. Hillier, _Arvo Pärt_, 1997, p. 27.

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14] P. Hillier, _Arvo Pärt_, 1997, p. 33.

[15]

[16] P. Bohlman, _The Music of European Nationalism: Cultural Identity and Modern History_, p. 75.

[17] NOMINA DI MEMBRI DEL PONTIFICIO CONSIGLIO DELLA CULTURA

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21] For example, in an essay by Christopher Norris called “Post-modernism: a guide for the perplexed,” found in Gary K. Browning, Abigail Halcli, Frank Webster, _Understanding Contemporary Society: Theories of the Present_, 2000.

[22]

[23]

[24] P. Hillier, _Arvo Pärt_, 1997, p. 64.

[25]

[26]

[27]

[28]

[29]

[30]

[31]

[32]

[33] In Detail: Arvo Pärt's Symphony No. 4 'Los Angeles'. Retrieved 27 January 2009.

[34]

[35] Arvo Pärt's “Adam's Lament” wins Grammy Award in the Best Choral Performance category!. Retrieved 26 January 2014.

[36] Kotta, Kerri (2018). Mixed identities in Arvo Pärt's Adam's Lament. In David G. Hebert & Mikolaj Rykowski, eds., _Music Glocalization: Heritage and Innovation in a Digital Age_. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars, p.133.

[37]

[38]

[39]

[40]

[41]

[42]

[43]

[44]

[45]

[46]

[47]

title: Arvo Pärt

question: What does the text say about Arvo Pärt's Credo?

answer: Credo was Arvo Pärt's first overtly sacred piece composed in 1968. This piece was a turning point in his life and career. On a personal level, he had reached a creative crisis that led him to renounce the techniques and means of expression he used so far. On a social level, the religious nature of this piece resulted in his music disappearing from concert halls and unofficially censuring his music. Eight years after, he composed little music and studied medieval and Renaissance music to find his new musical language. Then, he converted from Lutheranism to Orthodox Christianity in 1972.

question: Summarize Arvo Pärt's early life.

answer: Arvo Pärt was born on September 11, 1935, in Paide, Jãrva County, Estonia, and his mother and stepfather raised him in Rakvere, Northern Estonia. He started experimenting with the top and bottom notes of the family's piano because the middle register was damaged. Pärt began his musical education at the age of seven at a music school in Rakvere. By the time he became a teenager, Pärt had begun writing compositions of his own. His first serious study in music was in 1954 at the Tallinn Music Middle School; however, Pärt abandoned it to join the military service playing oboe and percussion in the army band less than a year after. So, when Pärt completed his military service, he attended Tallinn Conservatory and studied composition with Heino Eller. As a student, Pärt produced music for film and stage. In the fifties, he completed his first vocal composition, "Our Garden" (Meie Aed), for children's choir and orchestra and then graduated in 1963.

question: What does the text say about the early works of Pärt's musical compositions?

answer: Pärt composed his early works using a range of neo-classical styles influenced by Shostakovich, Prokofiev, and Bartók, using Schoenberg's twelve-tone technique and serialism. However, this angered the Soviet establishment and proved a creative dead-end. When Soviet censors banned early works, Pärt entered the first of several periods of contemplative silence where he studied choral music from the 14th and 15th centuries. His biographer, Paul Hillier, observed that Pärt reached a position of utter despair that music composition appeared to be the most futile gesture and lacked the faith and willpower to write a note. After early European Polyphony informed the composition of Pärt's transitional Third Symphony of 1971, he absolved himself in early music and reinvestigated the roots of Western music. He also studied plainsong, Gregorian chant, and the emergence of polyphony in the European Renaissance.

question: What does the text say about Lutheranism?


text:
OLIVEWOOD is a metonymy and the official marking of Cyprus efforts to mature into a high value movie production destination.[1][2][3][4] The term is a portmanteau of “Olive” and “Hollywood”. The strategy is predominantly allied to filmmaking for the Cinema of the United States and the Cinema of Europe. [5][6][7][8][9]

Etymology

'Olive wood' is historically prized for its durability, colour, high combustion temperature and grain patterns. It’s a tree that derives from the coastal areas of the eastern Mediterranean, where the island of Cyprus is located. The Ancient Greeks farmed and spread it across the Mediterranean Basin. The term ‘Olivewood’ is a portmanteau of “Olive” (wood/tree) and “Hollywood” that syndicates in meaning and significance.

History

Cyprus world cinema film production dates back to the 1950s, soon after World War II, with They Who Dare as first film noted on location on IMDb. More than 273 titles are credited on location since then, with the latest being Jiu Jitsu, the sci-fi martial arts franchise from Dimitri Logothetis, starring Nicolas Cage, Marie Avgeropoulos, Frank Grillo, Alain Moussi and Tony Jaa.[10][11] The island is currently considered an up-and-coming film location, especially after the launch of new incentives and a Film Commission.[12] Cyprus climate, landscapes, local talent, infrastructure and financial incentives has boosted its film industry more meaningfully in the past few years.[13][14][15]

Climate

With predictability of weather being a key advantage for film production (340 days of sunshine year round) Cypriot climate becomes a significant production element. The continuum of natural light derives from the fact that Cyprus and Los Angeles are very close to the same latitude. The climate is defined by hot and dry summer from May to October, and a mild green winter with occasional rain showers from December to February. The distinctions are clear between the two main seasons, which are separated by a short autumn and spring.[16]

Locations

Labelled as a natural film studio, the island has a diverse set of film locations and dissimilar morphology.[17][18] Cyprus incorporates a historical and cultural landscape ranging from archaeological sites to antiquated villages, ancient city kingdoms, Greek amphitheatres, Byzantine art, 16th century Venetian architecture and modern European cities such as Limassol. Its long coastline, sandy beaches, light houses, ports, as well as pristine Mediterranean waters have been shot in various movie productions. The island incorporates flat plains that look like desert in the summer only to transform with rich green vegetation during the winter. Troodos Mountains provides peaks covered in snow, hilltops, valleys, waterfalls, traditional villages and vineyards. Salt lakes in Larnaca are packed with flamingos in the winter while the Akamas Nature Reserve is protected from any human activities. Notably, the island is the mythological birthplace of Aphrodite.[19]

Inter-connectivity

The Republic has two deep-sea ports (Limassol & Port of Larnaca) and two international airports (Larnaca and Paphos) with more than 70 airlines operating, serving 120 destinations across 40 countries. Located at the crossroads of three continents, it is a short flight away from many prominent transit hubs. In 2018, Cypriot airports served a total of 11 million passengers. Direct flights to all major European cities are a key factor for productions with multiple locations. The short distances help filming dissimilar locations and reduce production times. Snow-white mountains to sunny beaches might take an hour of drive in an English designated road network. Advanced infrastructure by road, air and sea is supported with logistical solutions and services.[20]

Shooting Permits

Shooting Permits is a requirement for most purposes. Film Producers must liaison with the key Government Agencies depending on the necessity:[21]

-   Department of Civil Aviation
-   Deputy Ministry of Tourism
-   Department of Antiquities
-   Ministry of Health
-   National Guard
-   Cyprus Police

Genres

Popular commercial genres since the 1950s include action, comedy, sci-fi, romance, drama and melodrama along with noticeable documentaries from BBC and National Geographic.[22][23][24] There has not been a specific genre of film that has been traditionally associated with the island.

Incentives

An incentive scheme was introduced in 2018 to encourage more international productions.[25] _S.O.S: Survive Or Sacrifice_ featuring William Baldwin was the first film to take advantage of the Olivewood incentive plan.[26][27]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

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[12] Financial Mirror: William Baldwin stars in film being shot on location in Limassol

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21] KFTV: Cyprus

[22] National Geographic: National Geographic’s latest travel stories about Cyprus

[23] BBC: Island of Love

[24] BBC Two: Mediterranean with Simon Reeve - Episode 1

[25]

[26]

[27]

title: Olivewood

question: What is Olivewood?

answer: A metonym and the official marking of efforts by Cyprus to become a high value movie production destination.

question: How did Olivewood get its name?

answer: It is a portmanteau of "olive" (a tree that derives from the coastal areas of the eastern Mediterranean, where Cyprus is located) and "Hollywood".

question: When was Olivewood established?

answer: Film production in Cyprus dates back to the 1950s.

question: List the genres of film produced at Olivewood.

answer: Action, comedy, sci-fi, romance, drama and melodrama, and documentaries.

question: Where is Olivewood located?

answer: Cyprus

question: Describe Olivewood's climate.

answer: There are 340 days of sunshine year round. The climate is hot and dry in the summer with a mild green winter with occasional rain showers.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Olivewood is the name for efforts to make Cyprus a high value movie production destination. The history of Cyprus cinema dates back to the 1950s. There is ample light, due to the region having 340 days of sunshine year round. A variety of popular commercial genres including include action, comedy, sci-fi, romance, drama and melodrama and documentaries are produced in Olivewood.


text:
_HOW DOCTORS THINK_ is a book released in March 2007 by Jerome Groopman, the Dina and Raphael Recanati Chair of Medicine at Harvard Medical School, chief of experimental medicine at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston, and staff writer for _The New Yorker_ magazine.[1]

The book opens with a discussion of a woman in her thirties who suffered daily stomach cramps and serious weight loss, and who visited some 30 doctors over a period of 15 years. Several misdiagnoses were made before she was finally found to have celiac disease.[2] Groopman explains that no one can expect a physician to be infallible, as medicine is an uncertain science, and every doctor sometimes makes mistakes in diagnosis and treatment. But the frequency and seriousness of those mistakes can be reduced by “understanding how a doctor thinks and how he or she can think better”.[3]

The book includes Groopman's own experiences both as an oncologist and as a patient, as well as interviews by Groopman of prominent physicians in the medical community. Notably, he describes his difficulties with a number of orthopedic surgeons as he sought treatment for a debilitating ligament laxity he suffered in his right hand, which over several years had led to the formation of cysts in the bones of his wrist.[4]

Salem's challenge

Groopman spends a great deal of the book discussing the challenge posed to him by Dr. Deeb Salem, chairman of the Department of Internal Medicine at Tufts-New England Medical Center, during a presentation the author made at their hospital grand rounds. During the presentation, Groopman was discussing the importance of compassion and communication in providing medical care when Salem posed the following question:

  There are primary care physicians in every hospital who speak with great sensitivity and concern, and their longtime patients love them, but clinically they are incompetent--how is a patient to know this?[5]

At the time of the presentation, Groopman was unable to provide a satisfactory response. Salem's question reminded Groopman of his experiences with physicians at the Phillips House of the world-renowned Massachusetts General Hospital, where he trained as a resident in the 1970s. Per his account:

  A few of [the physicians at Philips House] were highly skilled, but several were, at best, marginal in their clinical acumen. Nonetheless, their patients were devoted to them. It was the job of the residents to plug the holes in these marginal doctors' care. Just as a physician has to be wary of his first impression of a patient's condition, as a patient you have to be careful of your first impression of a physician...Thankfully, fewer students are admitted to medical school now because of social standing and family connections than at the time of my training. America has become more of a meritocracy in the professions. Medical school admissions committees no longer accept a record of gentlemen's C's at an Ivy League college.
  At best, I said to Salem, a layman should inquire of friends and, if possible, other physicians as well as nurses about the clinical qualities of a doctor beyond his personality. His credentials can be found on the Internet or by contacting a local medical board...Salem's query required a much more comprehensive answer, which I hope this book will help provide.[6]

The availability heuristic

Early in the work, Groopman discusses the work of Amos Tversky and Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman, psychologists from Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Specifically, he explores their development in the early 1980s of a concept known as the availability heuristic.[7]

In the theory, “availability” is defined as the tendency to judge the likelihood of explanation for an event by the ease with which relevant examples come to mind. In a clinical situation a diagnosis may be made because the physician often sees similar cases in his practice — for example, the misclassification of aspirin toxicity as a viral pneumonia, or the improper recognition of an essential tremor as _delirium tremens_ due to alcohol withdrawal in an indigent urban setting. Groopman argues that a clinician will misattribute a general symptom as specific to a certain disease based on the frequency he encounters that disease in his practice.[8]

Kahneman won the Nobel Prize in economics in 2002 for his work on heuristics, an honor that Groopman believes Tversky would have shared had he not died in 1996.[9]

Lack of recognition for gatekeepers

Groopman also serves as an advocate for primary care physicians in his book. He argues that gatekeeper physicians are underreimbursed for their work, believing this to be a legacy of the period earlier this century when surgeons headed the medical societies that negotiated with insurers about what a 'customary' payment for services was to be.[10]

He suggests that the poor reimbursement and lack of recognition for primary care physicians is fundamentally flawed. He quotes Dr. Eric J. Cassell's book, _Doctoring: The Nature of Primary Care Medicine_, to defend his assertion:

  A common error in thinking about primary care is to see it as entry-level medicine...and, because of this, rudimentary medicine...This is a false notion. One should not confuse highly technical, even complicated, medical knowledge--special practical knowledge about an unusual disease, treatment, condition, or technology--with the complex, many-sided worldly-wise knowledge we expect of the best physicians.
  The narrowest subspecialist, the reasoning goes, should also be able to provide this [broad] range of medical services. This naive idea arises, as do so many other wrong beliefs about primary care, because of the concept that doctors take care of diseases. Diseases, the idea goes on, form a hierarchy from simple to difficult. Specialists take care of difficult diseases, so, of course, they will naturally do a good job on simple diseases. Wrong. Doctors take care of people, some of whom have diseases and all of whom have some problem. People used to doing complicated things usually do complicated things in simple situations--for example, ordering tests or x-rays when waiting a few days might suffice--thus overtreating people with simple illnesses and overlooking the clues about other problems that might have brought the patient to the doctor.[11]

The fallacy of logic

In a later chapter Groopman reports a frank discussion with Dr. James E. Lock, chief of cardiology at Boston Children's Hospital. During their conversation, Groopman asks the world-renowned cardiologist about the times in his career when he made mistakes in patient treatment.[12]

To the query, Lock gives the cryptic response, “All my mistakes have the same things in common.”[13]

Lock then elaborates, discussing recommendations he made to repair specific heart defects in neonates that ultimately led to worse clinical outcomes and potentially avoidable deaths. The recommendations he made were based on a purely logical understanding of cardiac physiology.[14] The crucial point of Lock's discussion came with his confession:

  Impeccable logic doesn't always suffice. My mistake was that I reasoned from first principles when there was no prior experience. I turned out to be wrong because there are variables that you can't factor in until you actually do it. And you make the wrong recommendation, and the patient doesn't survive. I didn't leave enough room for what seems [sic] like minor effects--the small fluctuations in oxygen levels, which might amount to one or two or three percent but actually can signal major problems in the heart....[The proposed treatment] is very sound logic. But it's wrong...These children developed right heart failure and clinically they became worse. There are aspects to human biology and human physiology that you just can't predict. Deductive reasoning doesn't work for every case. Sherlock Holmes is a model detective, but human biology is not a theft or a murder where all the cues can add up neatly.[15]

Groopman goes on to write, “Lock averted his gaze and his face fell; to be wrong about a child is a form of suffering unique to his profession [as a pediatrician].”[16]

Disregard of uncertainty

Groopman also discusses the work of Renee Fox, a physician and occupational sociologist who observed residents and attendings in a hospital ward setting, noting their various ways of coping with the uncertainties of medical treatment. The mechanisms to cope that Fox observed included, for example, black humor, making bets about who would be right about a patient's prognosis, and engaging in magical thinking to maintain a sense of poise and competence in front of patients while performing circumspect procedures.[17]

Jay Katz, a clinical instructor at Yale Law School has since termed these coping mechanisms under the rubric 'disregard of uncertainty', which he believes physicians develop to deal with the anxiety of shifting from the certainty of theoretical discussions of medicine early in their training to its more happenstance practical application.[18]

Groopman recalls that in situations where he had been hesitant to take clinical action based on incomplete data, it had been wisest at times to follow the advice of his mentor Dr. Linda A. Lewis: “Don't just do something, stand there.” Groopman asserts that there exist situations in which inaction may be the wisest course of action.[19]

Suggestions for patients

Groopman closes with an epilogue giving advice for patients. He gives the following tools that patients can use to help reduce or rectify cognitive errors:

-   Ask WHAT ELSE COULD IT BE?, combating satisfaction of search bias and leading the doctor to consider a broader range of possibilities.
-   Ask IS THERE ANYTHING THAT DOESN'T FIT?, combatting confirmation bias and again leading the doctor to think broadly.
-   Ask IS IT POSSIBLE I HAVE MORE THAN ONE PROBLEM?, because multiple simultaneous disorders do exist and frequently cause confusing symptoms.
-   TELL WHAT YOU ARE MOST WORRIED ABOUT, opening discussion and leading either to reassurance (if the worry is unlikely) or careful analysis (if the worry is plausible).
-   RETELL THE STORY FROM THE BEGINNING. Details that were omitted in the initial telling may be recalled, or different wording or the different context may make clues more salient. (This is most appropriate when the condition has not responded to treatment or there is other reason to believe that a misdiagnosis is possible.)

[1]

[2]

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[18]

[19]

title: How Doctors Think

question: What does the text say about Jerome Groopman?

answer: Jerome Groopman is an oncologist who writes the book How Doctors Think. He interviews other physicians and concludes that physicians sometimes make mistakes, but understanding how a doctor thinks can help them think better. He advises patients to know their doctor's credentials, and he gives them tips on how to help their doctor rectify or reduce cognitive errors.

question: What does the text say about the salary of doctors?

question: What does the text say about incompetence in the medical community?

answer: There are some primary care physicians who are loved by their patients but are not really competent clinically. Incompetence leads to mistakes that can sometimes be serious, endangering the patients' lives. Physicians should be knowledgeable and competent. That is why medical students must be admitted to medical schools based on their merit and not because they have family connections.