text:
	I don't really know much about anything. I can't point out where I come from on a map. I can't do your taxes. I don't know much about growing crops. My life has been very sheltered, you see. I never really had the chance to go out much. When I did, it was just for a quick bite and then I came back. I don't want to say I'm shy or anti-social, but if I am, it's genetic.

	You see, growing up as a Vampire has some serious drawbacks. I would even go as far as to call it a handicap. We're not at all what you read about or see in the movies. Do you think we could afford a castle like Dracula? I grew up in a studio apartment in Queens with my parents. I was home schooled to the fullest extent of their knowledge, but they worked nights and slept days so to say the least I was left on my own for education. I was to follow in the family business, whether I wanted to or not. My father wanted me to join him in working the graveyard shift at our neighborhood 7/11. I've never really been much for serving people. Plus, running home at 5 in the morning to escape the sunrise wasn't my idea of a good career choice.

	Growing up, I had a lot of free time to think and ponder the meaning of my existence. In other words, I spent a lot of time drinking the blood of high teenagers outside my father's 7/11 late at night and it made me feel like a prophet. It really gave me a craving for dorritos and other chips, too. What's so strange about that is that my family follows a strict, traditional, Vampire diet consisting of mainly blood and meat. I never had much exposure to processed food. Sometimes, I would float down in front of the Burger King drive-thru and scare the customers into giving me their food. I would say something like, "Your food or your blood, fool!" They always gave me the food. Well, most of them.

	I wasn't totally useless, though. I didn't know much, but I could dream. I wanted to become more than what was expected of a young vampire. I always wanted to break away from the life my family had planned for me. The whole vampire thing just didn't have much potential. You can laugh at this if you want, but my dream was to become a cowboy. I spent most of my teenage years watching old western movies on tv while my parents were at work and I wanted to be the cowboys. To be on horseback in the open range with the sun filling the horizon was a life I would never be able to live, despite anything I could dream. Being young as I was, though, I'd had enough of my life and decided to take off. One night shortly after my 18th birthday, I left a note and walked out the door.

	I won't tell you how I got there, but I made it to Montana. I'll just tell you that getting there with no money required doing some things that are beyond embarrassing. I'll save that story for another time. I started working at a ranch where my main responsibility was doing the bitch work no one else wanted to do. I got fired when I didn't show up on the first morning I was supposed to work. I told you it would be hard to become a vampire cowboy. I didn't give up hope, though. Eventually I found a 24/7 ranch that was run by humans in the day and vampires at night.

	I fit right in with my crew. It was almost as if I had been born to work on a ranch. Sometimes, the humans played pranks on us and left piles of horse and cow droppings to be cleaned up. When this happened, we just laughed and drank the humans' blood while they slept. Nothing says, "got'cha!" like waking up as a member of another species. The ranch owner put an end to our prank wars when we converted most of his day staff to vampires.

	I didn't sleep much during my time at the ranch. I would stare out my window during the afternoon and watch the humans work. I wanted so badly to be out there with them, riding horses around the ranch and sweating under the sun. One afternoon, I witnessed a good downpour. The ranch hands returned to their quarters and I watched the animals cool off under the rain. The sun returned from behind the clouds and left this breath-taking beam of colors in the sky. In all the history of my people, we have been afraid of the light. For good reason, too. But this light was amazing. I followed the shape from where it began at our ranch and tried to imagine how long it could be, and what could be at the end of it. I imprinted its size and location in my memory. I was going to find the end of the light.

	That night, I left the ranch with our best horse and followed the trail of the light by memory. I rode for hours and the horse hated me for it. It threw me off a couple times so it could rest. I'd never bitten a horse and was considering it, but was afraid of starting a new superior race of hybrid flying, blood-drinking horses. Finally, when I felt that I had reached the end of the trail, I got off the horse and began to look around. After hours of searching, I gave up and started to make camp.

	I heard noise coming from the woods, and emerging from it was a small, delicate, and beautiful creature. Her green hat matched her jacket. She was far too well-dressed to be a homeless person. My presence surprised her, and she stared at me in confusion.

	"Are you here for the gold?" She asked.
	"The gold?" I replied. "I've been following a beam of light. Do you know of it?"
	Her face brightened and she beamed a smile towards me. I was beginning to forget more and more about the light. I'd found what I had been looking for for so very long.
	"Of course I do, silly," she laughed at me. "It's my rainbow and you've found it. No one ever comes looking for me these days. We are real, you know. I'm not like the Easter Bunny. I've got a lot of gold in this pot here. It's all yours now, sugar."
	"What if I want something else?" I asked her, gazing deeply into her green eyes.
She placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head. "Now what else could you want?"
I paused and began to approach her. I reached down to hold her little hand.
	“You."

	Alright, I know what you're thinking right now. I admit that falling in love with a leprechaun is destined for failure no matter what species you are, even if you're a leprechaun. There were some serious flaws in my logic back in the day. But go to hell. I was a vampire in love. We left together later that week. I hadn't realized it during my trip, but I had crossed the Canadian border while searching for the end of the rainbow. When we went through customs to re-enter the United States, I had to smuggle my new lady love in one of my duffel bags. Rather than becoming intimate with each other throughout our trip, my beaming and beautiful bride to be spent our first couple of days together in my bag wrapped in my intimates and dirty socks.

	Love is an adventure, but settling down is a chore. My mini-lover and I found a quiet town in South Carolina where we could be together in peace. By peace, I mean we were constantly receiving death threats and bricks through our windows. Our relationship was what some people would call an abomination. We weren't allowed to marry. My ittie-bittie-amore wanted to move up north to Massachusetts. We weren't gay, I had to remind her. We were just of different species.

	We lived off of her gold for a few years until it began to run out. Desperate, my slight and slender lady found a job as an elf at Santa's Village in the local mini-mall. During the winter, she worked overtime taking pictures with children and Santa. Defeated, I found work at a local 7/11. I first tried my luck as a stand-up comic, but no one found the musings of a destroyer of lives to be very humorous. Because of our work hours and my fatal reaction to sunlight, our relationship suffered. In public, my teeny-tiny sweetheart constantly had to prove her age to keep me from becoming a registered sex-offender. The public stigma of our relationship kept us inside for most of the time.

	Again, the world felt like a prison to me. I began to think more often of the ranch and being a cowboy. This wasn't why I left home. I didn't leave to work the graveyard shift at a 7/11 and sleep with a pretty but puny honeybun. To tell you the truth, we rarely slept together. Like I mentioned before, the scheduling conflicts of our lifestyles made it all very difficult. She got us into marriage counseling. Let me tell you what was wrong with that idea. First, we weren't married. We got thrown out of our first marriage counseling session and had to re-schedule to be seen for "couple counseling." Four weeks later we saw the same man. Second, it hurt me to go to those sessions. I mean that literally. You would think that venturing out during the middle of the day was enough to prove my love to that microscopic midget.

	I'd like to tell you that it had a happy ending. I'd like to tell you that we reconciled and everything is perfect. I'd rather tell you that we ended up back at the ranch and I followed my dream of becoming a cowboy. We ran into an unexpected problem shortly after we began counseling. You see, I didn't think that different species could reproduce, so safe sex wasn't really my thing. Nine months later, my dwarfish devil of a lady gave birth to a hybrid vampire/leprechaun. You may read that and think it's very cool, but let me tell you it's not. My son really got the worst of both worlds, being a runt of a blood sucker. When he began teething, he turned my little leprechaun into a shrimp sized vampire. I don't know, maybe that is kind of a happy ending after all. At least we can finally spend some time together now.

title: [HM] Under The Lovely Bloody Rainbow

question: Why is the narrator confined to nighttime adventures?

answer: The narrator is a vampire. Vampires can't tolerate sunlight so they are confined to nighttime activities. This is why the narrator does the graveyard shift at 7/11 and works the night shift on the ranch.

question: How did the vampires end up changing the day shift staff into night shift vampires?

answer: The narrator got a job at a ranch in Montana. Humans worked during the day shift and vampires during the night. Sometimes the humans played tricks on the vampires. When this happened the vampires would sometimes drink the blood of the humans. The result was that the humans turned into vampires.

question: How does the narrator meet the love of his life?

answer: The narrator witnesses a storm and at the end of it, he is enthralled by the emergence of a rainbow. He memorizes the path of the rainbow and that night he follows its path on horseback. at the end of a long ride, he comes across a leprechaun with a pot of gold. He falls in love with the lovely creature.


split: test

text:
(IP) Up in Smoke

In the mirrored, colorful surface of the portal, there was a blue, sunny sky, with grassy valleys and mountains painted in every color he could imagine; after all these years, after all of his sacrifices, he’d found it. No more would he be living in this world, cold and gray and drained of life, though the universe had seen fit to put him here.

That wasn’t to say that his formative years in this world, clouded by toxic lavender clouds of smoke, were miserable. Indeed, there had been times that he’d been happy. But there was something inside of him, a deep, yawning void that was just not satisfied, even after he’d reaped the love and support that his family had shown him, a mere echo now that they were gone.

For a short, terrifying moment, he was transported back to the moment that had caused their deaths, drowning him in the fear and rage that had driven him to this in the first place—

*Three sharp, rapid knocks on the door. A beat of silence.*

*Then they kicked down the door, dark beacons of death and order and the king’s elite force, The Reaper’s Hand, fanning out like smoke and just as insubstantial, rictus grins showing behind their masks.*

*His wife, standing by the fire, stirring a stew, and his son at her feet, babbling happily.*

*“Maximillian Garvey, you have been charged by the King for treason,” The biggest, hulking guard said, his voice garbled behind his mask.*

*“The sentence for treason is death.”*

*Before the executioner had even finished his decree, his cronies had snatched up his poor wife and child; two quick swipes of the blade and Jazira fell to the floor, blood pouring from the gaping slash in her throat.*

*The only thing he remembered hearing was his own desperate, wrathful shrieks; he sounded like an injured animal. But he could see them, feel them, laughing at his agony, frenzied with bloodlust at their kill; after all, that was why the King employed them.*

*And then, to add insult to injury, they’d taken his boy, ‘to insure his future good behavior’.*

He quickly snapped himself out of the vision; that was the past and it needed to stay there. But that didn’t stop his body from remembering: the iron tang of her blood, hanging in the air as if to emphasize his own personal horror, his throat tightening so much he couldn’t breathe, invisible iron bars wrapped around his chest.

And to think, to this day, he didn’t know just what happened to his only child.

If he hadn’t had control of his temper by now, he would’ve struck the portal, destroyed his whole life’s work; he clenched his jaw and steeled himself.

He couldn’t waste all of this work, all of these years spent chasing what more people thought of as a pipe dream.

Now, he could escape, start over in a new world, where no one lived under a mad monarch’s thumb. He could leave the ghosts that haunted him in this faded husk of a world.

He did a final check of his supplies: food, clothing, as much money as he could scrape together, what he could afford to take from his lab, pictures of his wife and son, and finally, a vial of something so black it looked like the mad scientist had managed to bottle a starless night.

He was leaving at last, and good riddance. He stepped through the mirror and once he was on the other side, his back faded into the mountainous distance, and the door closed, becoming a normal mirror once more.

He’d made sure to lock the door to his crumbling tenement; more than one person had died for his secrets, and he hadn’t known, even when he’d made his choice, if his conscience could take any more blood spilled in his name.

No one ever saw Maximillian Garvey again, not even his son, when he’d returned from a childhood spent as an adopted prince, now a man.

Perhaps his father was nothing more than a mere dream.

\*\*

title: (FN) Up in Smoke

question: Who are the main characters of the story?

answer: Maximillian Garvey, his wife and son, the King

question: Why was Maximillian Garvey charged with treason?

answer: That information can’t be found.

question: What is the pipe dream Maximillian is chasing?

answer: A way to escape and start over in a new world, leaving his ghosts behind.

question: What happened to Maximillian's boy?

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Maximillian Garvey's life falls apart when the King accuses him of treason punishable by death. Guards break into his home, murder his wife, and kidnap his son so he would behave. Maximillian lives a life devoid of life. He invents a portal that will transport him to a new world where he can escape his past and start over. No one ever sees him again, not even his son, who returns from a childhood spent as an adopted prince.


text:
GERALD RICHARD JOHNSON (June 23, 1920 – October 7, 1945) was a World War II flying ace who flew for the United States Army Air Forces. Johnson commanded the 9th Fighter Squadron and 49th Fighter Group, and became the fourth ranking fighter ace in the Pacific during World War II. He ended his war career with 22 kills.

Early life

Johnson was born in Kenmore, Ohio on June 23, 1920, one of five children born to parents Harold Victor Johnson, Sr. and Hazel Irene Johnson. He was a twin to Harold Victor Johnson, Jr. born on the same day. In 1936, the family moved to Eugene, Oregon. Johnson graduated from Eugene High School in 1938. After graduation, he worked as an attendant with the Department of Agriculture in the summer of 1940.[1]

Johnson was married to Barbara Hall on June 1, 1944.

Military career

In 1941, he joined the U.S. Army Aviation Cadet Program at Luke Field. He received his pilot wings in the fall of 1941 and was commissioned a second lieutenant.[2]

World War II

[P-39 of 54th FG at Adak, Alaska] Johnson was then assigned to the 57th Pursuit Squadron of the 54th Pursuit Group at Everett, Washington, from November 1941 to February 1943 and went with the group to Alaska from June to October 1942, where he flew the Bell P-39 Airacobra and Curtiss P-40 Warhawk. In Alaska, on 58 combat missions he scored probable two enemy aircraft kills while flying the P-39.[3][4]

Johnson served with the 332d Fighter Squadron of the 329th Fighter Group at Ontario Army Air Field, California, from February to April 1943. He then moved to Australia and was assigned to the 49th Fighter Group of the Fifth Air Force, flying the Lockheed P-38 Lightnings. Johnson was assigned his P-38, which he named “Barbara” after his future wife. He scored his first confirmed aerial victories on July 23, when he shot down a Nakajima Ki-43 “Oscar” and a Kawasaki Ki-61 “Tony”, over Markham Valley, New Guinea.[5] Johnson was promoted to captain in the 9th Fighter Squadron in August 1943.[6]

[P-38 Lightning] On October 15, 1943, while defending the allied shipping at Oro Bay, he and other aircraft from the 348th Fighter Group intercepted twenty Japanese aircraft. As they maneuvered into position, one of the aircraft in Johnson's formation could not drop its auxiliary fuel tanks, while another blew a supercharger. Unable to fight effectively, these aircraft were escorted back home,[7] leaving Johnson and a few other aircraft alone. During the dogfight, Johnson chased an enemy aircraft off his wingman's tail and destroyed it. Johnson's aircraft was then attacked by the enemy. His heavy fire tore the wing off a Japanese fighter and sent it spiraling, in the process ripping off Johnson's port (left) tail boom assembly. Johnson managed to regain control of his aircraft and was escorted back to base by the remaining friendly planes. Johnson shot down an Oscar and two Aichi D3A “Vals”, on that day. He successfully managed to disperse the enemy formation and divert it from the target. He scored three victories that day, making him a flying ace, but at the cost of his own aircraft.[8][9] For his heroic actions, he received his first Distinguished Service Cross.

While providing an escort for B-17 Flying Fortresses bombers, Johnson scored another kill when a Japanese aircraft, concentrating on the bombers, flew straight into his line of fire. Opening fire, he quickly swooped behind another enemy aircraft and sent it down in a ball of flames.[10][11] In October, Johnson was promoted to the rank of Major and served as commander of the 9th FS from October 1943 to January 1944.

[Pilots of the 9th Fighter Squadron posing in front of a P-38 Lightning commemorating the first USAAF pilots to land and operate in the Philippines, October 1944|220x220px|alt=] On November 15, 1943 while flying a P-38, Johnson attacked a formation of two Royal Australian Air Force CAC Boomerangs and two Curtiss P-40 Warhawks who were returning to base. He shot down Boomerang serial number A46-136 piloted by Flying Officer Robert McColl Stewart,[12] who survived the subsequent crash and fire.[13] Later, an Australian flag indicating this Boomerang was painted on Johnson's P-38 Lightning.

[P-47 Thunderbolt] In late 1943, the 9th Fighter Squadron received the Republic P-47 Thunderbolt, due to the losses suffered by the squadron in the aerial battles over Rabaul and Lockheed being unable to quickly ship replacement P-38s. Johnson shot down a Tony and an A6M Zero, while flying the P-47. He scored a total of 11 aerial victories before going back to the US for a three month shore leave. [14]

Returning to the Pacific in October 1944, he was one of the first USAAF fighter pilots to arrive at Tacloban on Leyte in the Philippines, as P-38s from the 49th FG touched down on the freshly carved airstrip. The strip was under attack night and day as the Japanese tried to destroy the American foothold on Leyte. Four hours later, Johnson shot down two enemy planes, over Balikpapan, in Borneo. 13 days later, he shot down two more enemy planes, on the lead up to the Philippines campaign.[15]

During the spring of 1945, the 49th Fighter Group occupied Clark Field and were concentrating on providing ground support roles. They were particularly effective in delivering napalm bombs which devastated enemy installations and made an invasion of the Luzon unnecessary.[16]

[Johnson with his P-38|220x220px|alt=] On November 11, he downed two more Zeros over Ormoc Bay, and on December 7, the third anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, he shot down three Oscars and one Nakajima Ki-49 “Helen” bomber over Cebu, for which he received his second Distinguished Service Cross.[17] These victories brought him to a total of 21 aerial victories, a quadruple ace, and he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel. He became Deputy Commander of the 49th Fighter Group until March 1945.[18][19]

Johnson served as 49th FG commander from March to July 1945, and became one of the youngest colonel in the USAAF. He scored his last aerial victory on April 2, when he shot down a Nakajima Ki-44 “Tojo”, during a fighter sweep over Hong Kong.[20]

During World War II, Johnson flew a total of 265 combat missions. He was credited with the destruction of 22 enemy aircraft in aerial combat plus 2 probables and 1 damaged, which includes 20 in P-38 Lightning and 2 in P-47 Thunderbolt.[21]

Death and Legacy

A few weeks after World War II ended, Johnson was assigned as commander of Atsugi Air Base, Japan.

On 7 October 1945, Johnson was flying a B-25 Mitchell from Ie Shima Airfield to Atsugi AB, when it flew into a typhoon and was hopelessly lost in the black skies. He ordered everyone to bail out, but one person neglected to bring a parachute. Johnson gave up his parachute to allow the other crew members to bail out of the aircraft, while he and the co-pilot 2nd Lt. James B. Noland attempted to guide the aircraft back to the airfield. Both men were killed when the B-25 crashed on approach to Irumagawa Airfield. The four crew members who bailed out, were successfully rescued.[22]

Johnson posthumously received the Soldier's Medal for his heroism. His remains have never been located and he is listed on the Tablets of the Missing at the Honolulu Memorial, in the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific in Hawaii. Lt. General George C. Kenney, commander of the Fifth Air Force during World War II, told Johnson's father, “You are the father of the bravest man I ever knew and the bravest thing he ever did was the last thing, when he did not need to be brave.”[23]

The Irumagawa Airfield, which is located in the city of Sayama, Saitama Prefecture, north of western Tokyo, Japan, was renamed JOHNSON AIR BASE, in honor of him.[24]

Awards and decorations

His awards and decorations include:

  -- -- --
  -- -- --

+:---------------------------------------------------------------------:+
| USAAF Pilot Badge                                                     |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+
| Distinguished Service Cross                                           |
| w/ 1 bronze oak leaf cluster                                          |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+
| Distinguished Flying Cross                                            |
| w/ 1 silver oak leaf cluster                                          |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+
| American Defense Service Medal                                        |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+
| World War II Victory Medal                                            |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+
|  |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+

  --
  --

+:---------------------------------:+:---------------------------------:+
| Army Presidential Unit Citation   | Philippine Republic Presidential  |
| w/ 3 bronze oak leaf clusters     | Unit Citation                     |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+
|  |
+-----------------------------------+-----------------------------------+

Distinguished Service Cross citation (1st Award)

[]

    Johnson, Gerald R.
    Major (Air Corps), U.S. Army Air Forces
    9th Fighter Squadron, 49th Fighter Group, 5th Air Force
    Date of Action: October 15, 1943

    Citation:

The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress July 9, 1918, takes pleasure in presenting the Distinguished Service Cross to Major (Air Corps) Gerald Richard Johnson, United States Army Air Forces, for extraordinary heroism in connection with military operations against an armed enemy while serving as Pilot of a P-38 Fighter Airplane in the 9th Fighter Squadron, 49th Fighter Group, Fifth Air Force, in aerial combat against enemy forces on 15 October 1943, during an air mission in the Southwest Pacific Area. When a large enemy force of 18 dive bombers accompanied by 20 fighters approached the area to attack shipping at Oro Bay, Major Johnson courageously led his squadron of eight airplanes to intercept the enemy flight. Against these overwhelming odds, he unhesitatingly attacked. During the fierce engagement which followed, Major Johnson shot down two enemy bombers and one enemy fighter. By this daring strike, he dispersed the enemy formation and diverted it from the target. Supporting squadrons of allied fighters then entered the combat and turned back the enemy force with no damage to our shipping or installations. In addition to destroying three enemy aircraft on this occasion, Major Johnson, by his heroism, diverted the enemy attack and saved much valuable cargo. Major Johnson's unquestionable valor in aerial combat is in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflects great credit upon himself, the 5th Air Force, and the United States Army Air Forces.[25]

Distinguished Service Cross citation (2nd Award)

[]

    Johnson, Gerald R.
    Lieutenant Colonel (Air Corps), U.S. Army Air Forces
    9th Fighter Squadron, 49th Fighter Group, 5th Air Force
    Date of Action: December 7, 1944

    Citation:

The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress July 9, 1918, takes pleasure in presenting a Bronze Oak Leaf Cluster in lieu of a Second Award of the Distinguished Service Cross to Lieutenant Colonel (Air Corps) Gerald Richard Johnson, United States Army Air Forces, for extraordinary heroism in connection with military operations against an armed enemy while serving as Pilot of a P-38 Fighter Airplane in the 9th Fighter Squadron, 49th Fighter Group, Fifth Air Force, in aerial combat against enemy forces on 7 December 1944, during an air mission in the Southwest Pacific Area. On this date Major Johnson shot down four enemy aircraft in a single engagement. Major Johnson's unquestionable valor in aerial combat is in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflects great credit upon himself, the 5th Air Force, and the United States Army Air Forces.[26]

Aerial victory credits

The data in the following table is from Newton and Senning (1978).

  Date               Credits
  ------------------ ---------
  26 July 1943       2
  2 September 1943   1
  15 October 1943    3
  23 October 1943    1
  2 November 1943    2
  10 December 1943   1
  18 January 1944    1
  14 October 1944    2
  27 October 1944    2
  11 November 1944   2
  7 December 1944    4
  2 April 1945       1

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21]

[22]

[23]

[24]

[25]

[26]

title: Gerald R. Johnson

question: What does the text say about the F-16?

question: Summarize the life, career, and death of Gerald R. Johnson.

answer: Gerald Richard Johnson was born in Kenmore, Ohio on June 23, 1920. He was one of five children and had a twin brother named Harold Jr. In 1936, his family moved to Eugene, Oregon. Johnson graduated from Eugene High School in 1938 and worked as an attendant with the Department of Agriculture in the summer of 1940. In 1941, Johnson joined the U.S. Army Aviation Cadet Program at Luke Field. He got his pilot wings in the fall of 1941 and was commissioned a second lieutenant. He became a World War II flying ace who flew for the United States Army Air Forces. Johnson commanded the 9th Fighter Squadron and 49th Fighter Group, becoming the fourth-ranking fighter ace in the Pacific during World War II. He ended his war career with 22 kills. Johnson married Barbara Hall on June 1, 1944. A few weeks after World War II ended, he was assigned as commander of Atsugi Air Base, Japan. On October 7, 1945, Johnson was flying a B-25 Mitchell from Ie Shima Airfield to Atsugi AB when it flew into a typhoon and was lost in the black skies. He ordered everyone to bail out and gave his parachute to an airman who forgot his. Johnson and his co-pilot tried to guide the aircraft back to the airfield, but they crashed on approach to Irumagawa Airfield. The four crew members who bailed out survived, but Johnson and his co-pilot died. He posthumously received the Soldier's Medal for his heroism. Johnson's remains were never found.


text:
CASEY COUNTY is a county located in the U.S. Commonwealth of Kentucky. As of the 2010 census, the population was 15,955.[1] Its county seat is Liberty.[2] The county was formed in 1806 from the western part of Lincoln County[3] and named for Colonel William Casey, a pioneer settler who moved his family to Kentucky in 1779.[4] It is the only Kentucky county entirely in the Knobs region. Casey County is home to annual Casey County Apple Festival, and is a prohibition or dry county. It is considered part of the Appalachian region of Kentucky.

History

Casey County was established in 1806 from land given by Lincoln County. The third and present courthouse was built in 1889.[5]

In 2015, County Clerk Casey Davis received national press when he announced he would deny same-sex marriage licenses, as a show of solidarity with fellow county clerk Kim Davis, who was criticized and later jailed for doing the same thing in Rowan County, Kentucky.[6]

Geography

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the county has a total area of , of which is land and (0.3%) is water.[7]

The highest point in Casey County is Green River Knob at .

Adjacent counties

-   Boyle County (north)
-   Lincoln County (northeast)
-   Pulaski County (southeast)
-   Russell County (south/CST Border)
-   Adair County (southwest/CST Border)
-   Taylor County (west)
-   Marion County (northwest)

Major highways

-   -   -   -   -   -   -   -

Demographics

As of the census[8] of 2000, there were 15,447 people, 6,260 households, and 4,419 families residing in the county. The population density was . There were 7,242 housing units at an average density of . The racial makeup of the county was 98.30% White, 0.33% Black or African American, 0.28% Native American, 0.06% Asian, 0.05% Pacific Islander, 0.31% from other races, and 0.66% from two or more races. 1.28% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race.

There were 6,260 households, out of which 31.00% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 56.10% were married couples living together, 10.80% had a female householder with no husband present, and 29.40% were non-families. 26.80% of all households were made up of individuals, and 12.60% had someone living alone who was 65 years of age or older. The average household size was 2.44 and the average family size was 2.94.

24.50% of the population was under the age of 18, 8.20% from 18 to 24, 27.50% from 25 to 44, 24.70% from 45 to 64, and 15.10% who were 65 years of age or older. The median age was 38 years. For every 100 females there were 95.60 males. For every 100 females age 18 and over, there were 92.60 males.

The median income for a household in the county was $21,580, and the median income for a family was $27,044. Males had a median income of $22,283 versus $17,885 for females. The per capita income for the county was $12,867. About 20.70% of families and 25.50% of the population were below the poverty line, including 32.10% of those under age 18 and 29.60% of those age 65 or over.

Politics

Casey County has one of the longest streaks of voting for Republican Party candidates in presidential elections in Kentucky & nationwide, with its candidates gaining the majority of the vote by wide margins in every election from 1916 on. No Democratic presidential candidate has even managed to gain 30% of the county's vote since Jimmy Carter in 1976.

  Year                               Republican                                  Democratic                                  Third parties
  ---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ---------------
  style=“text-align:center;” |2016   style=“text-align:center;” |85.1% _5,482_   style=“text-align:center;” |11.9% _767_     3.0% _190_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2012   style=“text-align:center;” |80.5% _4,904_   style=“text-align:center;” |17.8% _1,086_   1.7% _101_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2008   style=“text-align:center;” |78.6% _4,679_   style=“text-align:center;” |20.5% _1,219_   1.0% _59_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2004   style=“text-align:center;” |80.8% _5,109_   style=“text-align:center;” |18.6% _1,174_   0.6% _38_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2000   style=“text-align:center;” |78.3% _4,284_   style=“text-align:center;” |20.5% _1,122_   1.2% _63_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1996   style=“text-align:center;” |65.4% _3,187_   style=“text-align:center;” |22.7% _1,106_   11.9% _580_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1992   style=“text-align:center;” |62.6% _3,317_   style=“text-align:center;” |26.6% _1,409_   10.9% _576_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1988   style=“text-align:center;” |75.4% _3,857_   style=“text-align:center;” |23.8% _1,216_   0.9% _44_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1984   style=“text-align:center;” |79.0% _4,356_   style=“text-align:center;” |20.4% _1,122_   0.6% _35_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1980   style=“text-align:center;” |75.3% _4,239_   style=“text-align:center;” |23.1% _1,298_   1.7% _95_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1976   style=“text-align:center;” |67.2% _3,379_   style=“text-align:center;” |31.8% _1,602_   1.0% _51_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1972   style=“text-align:center;” |78.8% _3,727_   style=“text-align:center;” |19.3% _913_     1.9% _88_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1968   style=“text-align:center;” |70.6% _3,698_   style=“text-align:center;” |16.8% _879_     12.6% _658_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1964   style=“text-align:center;” |64.5% _3,457_   style=“text-align:center;” |35.0% _1,875_   0.5% _24_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1960   style=“text-align:center;” |77.3% _4,811_   style=“text-align:center;” |22.7% _1,413_   0.0% _0_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1956   style=“text-align:center;” |72.5% _4,167_   style=“text-align:center;” |27.3% _1,570_   0.2% _12_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1952   style=“text-align:center;” |71.4% _3,831_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.4% _1,522_   0.2% _13_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1948   style=“text-align:center;” |68.3% _3,380_   style=“text-align:center;” |30.2% _1,495_   1.5% _72_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1944   style=“text-align:center;” |71.5% _3,869_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.1% _1,520_   0.4% _20_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1940   style=“text-align:center;” |67.3% _3,874_   style=“text-align:center;” |32.4% _1,862_   0.3% _17_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1936   style=“text-align:center;” |64.8% _3,588_   style=“text-align:center;” |34.8% _1,925_   0.4% _21_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1932   style=“text-align:center;” |58.9% _3,840_   style=“text-align:center;” |40.7% _2,651_   0.4% _25_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1928   style=“text-align:center;” |71.4% _3,805_   style=“text-align:center;” |28.5% _1,519_   0.1% _6_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1924   style=“text-align:center;” |63.0% _3,120_   style=“text-align:center;” |36.3% _1,797_   0.7% _33_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1920   style=“text-align:center;” |64.0% _3,543_   style=“text-align:center;” |35.3% _1,951_   0.7% _39_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1916   style=“text-align:center;” |58.4% _1,949_   style=“text-align:center;” |40.5% _1,352_   1.1% _38_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1912   style=“text-align:center;” |31.2% _902_     style=“text-align:center;” |40.1% _1,158_   28.7% _828_

  : PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS RESULTS[9]

Education

Casey County Schools operates public schools.

Communities

-   Bethelridge
-   Clementsville
-   Creston
-   Dunnville
-   Liberty (county seat)
-   Middleburg
-   Phil
-   Jacktown
-   Teddy
-   Upper Tygart
-   Walltown
-   Windsor
-   Yosemite

Notable people

-   Silas Adams, member of the United States House of Representatives[10] (1893-1895)
-   Tim Butler, The Psychedelic Furs bass player
-   Charles T. Wethington Jr., former president of the University of Kentucky
-   Crystal Wilkinson, author
-   Wallace G. Wilkinson, governor of Kentucky (1987-1991)

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6] “Second Kentucky Clerk Refuses to Issue Same-Sex Marriage Licenses.” NBC News. 2015-09-02. Retrieved 2015-09-05.

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

title: Casey County, Kentucky

question: What does the article say about the politics and the history of Casey County, Kentucky?

answer: Casey County was established in 1806 from land given by Lincoln County. It is named after Colonel William Casey, a pioneer settler who moved his family to Kentucky in 1779. In 2015, County Clerk Casey Davis received national press when he announced he would deny same-sex marriage licenses. Casey County has one of the longest streaks of voting for Republican Party candidates in presidential elections who gained the majority of the vote in every election from 1916 on. No Democratic presidential candidate has even managed to gain 30% of the county's vote since Jimmy Carter in 1976.

question: What does the article say about the structure of the households in Casey County?

answer: As of the census of 2000, there were 15,447 people, 6,260 households, and 4,419 families residing in the county. There were 7,242 housing units. There were 6,260 households, out of which 31.00% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 56.10% were married couples living together, 10.80% had a female householder with no husband present, and 29.40% were non-families. 26.80% of all households were made up of individuals, and 12.60% had someone living alone who was 65 years of age or older. The average household size was 2.44 and the average family size was 2.94.

question: What does the article say about the living standard and racial makeup?

answer: As of the census of 2000, there were 15,447 people in Casey County, out of which 98.30% were White, 0.33% Black or African American, 0.28% Native American, 0.06% Asian, 0.05% Pacific Islander, 0.31% from other races, and 0.66% from two or more races. 1.28% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race. The median income for a family was $27,044. The per capita income for the county was $12,867. About 20.70% of families and 25.50% of the population were below the poverty line.

question: What does the article say about art?


text:
I could feel his stare blazing into the back of my skull as if it were literally burning my flesh. I subconsciously brought my hand up to feel my skin rotting away, but as soon as touched the back of my head I realized my mind was playing tricks on me again. Bringing my focus back to him, I could feel the sheer hatred he had for me, just by the immense sensation his body let off. I couldn’t bring myself to turn around and meet his gaze, because I didn’t want to confirm what I already knew. It was me, it was always me. It was my fault he didn’t feel as if he belonged with anyone. It was my fault he didn’t feel at all. I knew if I turned towards him tears would roll down my cheeks and I wouldn’t be able to stop them, so I decided to leave. I decided to leave him, and I would have chosen differently if I had known that was the last opportunity I would have to see him alive.

If I would have known the outcome of all my actions, I would have never taken that blade and glided it along my skin, but it felt so good. The adrenaline rushed through my veins, my heart pumped a little faster. It made me feel so free. Seeing the red run down my arm, it made me feel alive. I never thought it would affect him. I never thought he would take it as far as he did.

I should have never taken the pills. I almost took one too many and It would have been me who was six feet under right now, not him. They were just another way of making me feel good. Another way for me to forget my home life and escape for a while. The high didn’t last for more than a few hours, but the remarkable feeling I had for those short periods of time were incredible. I have never felt anything like it. I don’t think I will ever feel anything else that could come close. The best part though? Mixing the blade and the high. It was pure ecstasy. Nothing could top it, not even him. Maybe that is what pushed him too far?

He would never do it with me, he didn’t like being out of control in his own body. When I did it, he would sit by my side and hold my hand until it was over. He always longed for it to be over faster than the time before, but it never happened. He still sat there with me and waited. Always waiting on me, always wanting me.

I wish I would have realized it sooner, but I was too engulfed in my own demons to see anything around me. I was too self-involved. My thoughts told me to do things, they told me to hurt my body because that was the only pain I wanted to feel. I was numb to being the punching bag at home, the kicks and slaps only left physical marks, they no longer haunted me. I could walk through my house without bursting into hysterics, and I liked that. If the price was simple as a cut or a pill, I was willing to pay it.

He knew what I had to deal with at home, I don’t get why he had to pile more nonsense into my mind. Nothing made sense anymore. He was supposed to be there always, he was supposed to hold my hand. Now? Now I only have me. No one to wait for me, no one to hold me, no one, and it is my fault.

What I find funny about this whole thing is that I want to slide the blade across my skin and make line after line of blood. Watching it spread and drip. This isn’t normal, this is what killed him. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing me to my nightmares, so he made sure I lost him first. I can already feel the loneliness getting to me, it is hitting me all at once. I can’t handle being here without him, so I take a couple more pills than usual, hoping it would turn out the way I wanted it to.
I can feel my body being taken over by extreme bliss, the feeling is in the pit of my stomach and it sits there. Thinking about him not being here puts a strange smile on my face. He went out so dramatically, making it out like he was the victim in all of this. He was never the victim, I was. I am the victim of my own life, of my own mind. I can’t escape any of it. He took the cowards way out and just up and left everything behind.

Sitting there, in the dark, with my head on my pillow, I started to smell his cologne. I knew it wasn’t real, I knew the ghosts inside my mind were trying to mess with me, but at that point, I didn’t care. I took comfort in thinking he was there.

title: [MF] A Work in Progress

question: What does the story have to say about suicide?

answer: The narrator appears to resent the actions of their lover, commenting that they 'took the cowards way out' and that it was 'so dramatic'. They also explain that it feels as if they are burdened because they are left behind to deal with everything.

question: Summarize the issues that are faced by the narrator.

answer: The narrator appears to be in mourning for a lover who committed suicide. They have turned to pills and self-harm in order to cope. It is insinuated that they have been getting hurt at home - but it is unclear who the assailant is.

question: What was the narrator's life like at school?


text:
JACK COUNTY is a county located in the north central part of the U.S. state of Texas. As of the 2010 census, its population was 9,044.[1] Its county seat is Jacksboro.[2] The county was created in 1856 and organized the next year.[3] It is named for Patrick Churchill Jack and his brother William Houston Jack, both soldiers of the Texas Revolution.[4][5][6] Since January 2013, Republican Drew Springer, Jr., a businessman from Muenster in Cooke County, has represented Jack County in the Texas House of Representatives.[7]

Geography

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the county has a total area of , of which is land and (1.0%) is water.[8]

Major highways

-   [] U.S. Highway 281
-   [] U.S. Highway 380
-   [] State Highway 59
-   [] State Highway 114
-   [] State Highway 148
-   [] State Highway 199

Adjacent counties

-   Clay County (north)
-   Montague County (northeast)
-   Wise County (east)
-   Parker County (southeast)
-   Palo Pinto County (south)
-   Young County (west)
-   Archer County (northwest)

Demographics

[A scene typical of the mixed pastures and wooded hills of eastern Jack County]

As of the 2000 census,[9] there were 8,763 people, 3,047 households, and 2,227 families residing in Jack County. The population density was 10 people per square mile (4/km²). There were 3,668 housing units at an average density of 4 per square mile (2/km²). The racial makeup of the county was 88.68% White, 5.55% Black or African American, 0.67% Native American, 0.27% Asian, 0.02% Pacific Islander, 3.83% from other races, and 0.97% from two or more races. 7.89% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race.

There were 3,047 households, out of which 32.70% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 60.30% were married couples living together, 9.20% had a female householder with no husband present, and 26.90% were non-families. 24.50% of all households were made up of individuals, and 12.80% had someone living alone who was 65 years of age or older. The average household size was 2.52 and the average family size was 2.99. As of the 2010 census, there were about 4.1 same-sex couples per 1,000 households in the county.[10]

In the county, the population was spread out, with 23.40% under the age of 18, 10.00% from 18 to 24, 29.80% from 25 to 44, 21.60% from 45 to 64, and 15.20% who were 65 years of age or older. The median age was 37 years. For every 100 females there were 120.40 males. For every 100 females age 18 and over, there were 126.20 males.

The median income for a household in the county was $32,500, and the median income for a family was $37,323. Males had a median income of $28,838 versus $20,216 for females. The per capita income for the county was $15,210. About 10.10% of families and 12.90% of the population were below the poverty line, including 13.90% of those under age 18 and 13.70% of those age 65 or over.

Economy

The county is dominated by agriculture and ranching, which has kept population density low. The extensive mechanization of agriculture has resulted in large farms and few workers.

A $200 million 110 MW Keechi Wind Farm project with Enbridge, financed via a 20-year agreement with Microsoft, was announced.[11][12][13]

Communities

Cities

-   Bryson
-   Jacksboro (county seat)

Census-designated place

-   Perrin

Unincorporated communities

-   Antelope
-   Cundiff
-   Gibtown
-   Jermyn
-   Joplin

Notable residents

-   Frank Shelby Groner (1877-1943). County attorney, and later President of College of Marshall
-   Edith Wilmans, first woman elected to the Texas State Legislature, lived near Vineyard, in Jack County, for some years after leaving office; she raised goats and cattle on her farm, and was a practicing lawyer.[14]

Politics

Prior to 1952, Jack County was solidly Democratic in presidential elections similar to almost all of Texas & Solid South. From 1952 to 1996, the county was a swing county, though became somewhat of a bellwether earlier, voting for the national winner in all presidential elections from 1928 to 2004 except for 1960, 1968, & 1996. From 2000 on, the county has become a Republican Party stronghold similar to almost all white-majority rural counties in the Solid South, with its presidential candidates winning by increasing margins in each passing election. As a testament to how strongly Republican the county has swung, Donald Trump defeated Hillary Clinton by a margin of 79.4 percent in 2016, compared to an only 6.7 percent margin Bob Dole won the county by 20 years prior at the start of its Republican trend.

  Year                               Republican                                  Democratic                                  Third parties
  ---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ---------------
  style=“text-align:center;” |2016   style=“text-align:center;” |88.8% _2,973_   style=“text-align:center;” |9.4% _314_      1.9% _63_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2012   style=“text-align:center;” |88.7% _2,580_   style=“text-align:center;” |10.4% _303_     0.9% _25_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2008   style=“text-align:center;” |83.6% _2,528_   style=“text-align:center;” |15.6% _470_     0.8% _25_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2004   style=“text-align:center;” |79.0% _2,470_   style=“text-align:center;” |20.6% _643_     0.4% _13_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2000   style=“text-align:center;” |70.9% _2,107_   style=“text-align:center;” |27.6% _822_     1.5% _45_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1996   style=“text-align:center;” |46.7% _1,162_   style=“text-align:center;” |41.0% _1,019_   12.3% _306_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1992   style=“text-align:center;” |31.1% _1,041_   style=“text-align:center;” |37.5% _1,254_   31.4% _1,052_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1988   style=“text-align:center;” |50.2% _1,542_   style=“text-align:center;” |49.5% _1,521_   0.4% _11_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1984   style=“text-align:center;” |65.7% _1,825_   style=“text-align:center;” |34.0% _945_     0.3% _9_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1980   style=“text-align:center;” |51.5% _1,482_   style=“text-align:center;” |46.9% _1,349_   1.6% _46_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1976   style=“text-align:center;” |36.5% _1,049_   style=“text-align:center;” |63.2% _1,814_   0.3% _8_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1972   style=“text-align:center;” |68.6% _1,719_   style=“text-align:center;” |30.9% _775_     0.5% _13_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1968   style=“text-align:center;” |37.0% _966_     style=“text-align:center;” |43.4% _1,133_   19.6% _512_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1964   style=“text-align:center;” |34.7% _847_     style=“text-align:center;” |65.2% _1,594_   0.1% _3_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1960   style=“text-align:center;” |55.2% _1,342_   style=“text-align:center;” |44.4% _1,079_   0.5% _11_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1956   style=“text-align:center;” |56.5% _1,327_   style=“text-align:center;” |42.5% _997_     1.0% _23_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1952   style=“text-align:center;” |55.4% _1,406_   style=“text-align:center;” |44.5% _1,130_   0.1% _3_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1948   style=“text-align:center;” |14.6% _265_     style=“text-align:center;” |78.5% _1,426_   6.9% _126_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1944   style=“text-align:center;” |11.1% _217_     style=“text-align:center;” |75.6% _1,484_   13.4% _263_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1940   style=“text-align:center;” |13.0% _305_     style=“text-align:center;” |87.0% _2,046_   0.0% _1_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1936   style=“text-align:center;” |14.0% _183_     style=“text-align:center;” |85.2% _1,113_   0.8% _10_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1932   style=“text-align:center;” |11.6% _189_     style=“text-align:center;” |87.5% _1,429_   1.0% _16_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1928   style=“text-align:center;” |70.2% _1,068_   style=“text-align:center;” |29.6% _450_     0.2% _3_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1924   style=“text-align:center;” |19.7% _290_     style=“text-align:center;” |78.5% _1,154_   1.8% _26_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1920   style=“text-align:center;” |28.7% _253_     style=“text-align:center;” |64.3% _566_     7.0% _62_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1916   style=“text-align:center;” |11.0% _121_     style=“text-align:center;” |78.2% _862_     10.8% _119_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1912   style=“text-align:center;” |7.4% _85_       style=“text-align:center;” |65.3% _755_     27.4% _317_

  : PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION RESULTS[15]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]  See also Enbridge

[12] Ingle, John. “Casper, Wyoming-based company begins hauling wind generator pieces to Jack County,” _Times Record News_, September 3, 2014. Accessed: September 4, 2014.

[13]

[14]

[15]

title: Jack County, Texas

question: What does the text say about the Alamo?

question: What does the text say about Jack County, Texas?

answer: Jack County is located in the north-central part of the U.S. state of Texas. As of the 2010 census, its population was 9,044. The county was created in 1856 and organized the next year. Since January 13, Republican Drew Springer, Jr., a businessman from Muenster in Cooke County, has represented Jack County in the Texas House of Representatives. Six major highways pass through the county, namely U.S. Highway 281 and 380, and State Highway 59, 114, 148, and 199. Jack County is dominated by agriculture and ranching, which has kept the population density low. Farms here need fewer workers due to the extensive mechanization of agriculture. The county was 88.68% White based on the 2000 census.

question: Name some interesting facts about Jack County.

answer: Jack County is named after Patrick Churchill Jack and his brother William Houston Jack, soldiers of the Texas Revolution. Jacksboro is the county seat. One percent of the total land area of the county is water. There is a $200 million 110 MW Keechi Wind Farm project with Enbridge in the county, financed via a 20-year agreement with Microsoft. Notable residents of Jack County include Frank Shelby Groner (1877-1943) - the county attorney and later President of College of Marhsall, and Edith Williams - the first woman elected to the Texas State Legislature who lived near Vineyard in Jack County for some years after leaving office. The median age in the county is 37. There are more males than females in Jack County.

question: Summarize everything about politics in Jack County.

answer: Like almost all of Texas and the Solid South, Jack County was solidly Democratic in presidential elections prior to 1952. From 1952 to 1996, the county became a swing county and somewhat of a bellwether, voting for the national winner in all presidential elections from 1928 to 2004 except for 1960, 1968, & 1996. From 2000 onwards, however, the county has become a Republican Party stronghold like almost all White-majority rural counties in the Solid South. Republican presidential candidates have been winning by increasing margins here in each passing election. Donald Trump beat Hillary Clinton by a margin of 79.4 percent in 2006, compared to the 6.7 percent advantage Bob Doyle had when he won Jack County 20 years before the start of the Republican trend.


text:
I sat outside of the kitchen door, ass firmly planted on the cold concrete steps that led up to the service entrance. It was raining out, so I had to Macgyver an umbrella against the loose steel railing to protect my cigarette. It had taken a few soaking tries, but I needed this damn thing.

We had just gotten through the Friday night dinner rush. Three hours of nonstop tickets, endless re-makes, shouting, whining, crying. Servers fucking up tickets. Cooks fucking up orders. The manager going red from screaming at us.

I raised a hand to my cheek and wiped some of the rain away.

The fucking manager. I was on fry. We had a bad string of sendbacks: Turns out the middle fryer hadn't been cleaned last night, and shit was coming out black.

I'm not sure how that's my fault. Well, I guess I should have paid attention, but I'm not the one cleaning the damn things.

I had tried to explain that, as eloquently as one can explain something with hot food in one hand, a fryer handle in the other, and a towering kitchen manager shouting and spraying sweat on me from about three inches away.

I took another long pull on my cigarette. The others usually came out here after a rush. Three or four of us, not to mention one or two servers, maybe a bartender, even a manager or two.

But everyone else had stayed inside, and it wasn't just the rain.

I had gotten reamed out pretty fucking hard, and this time I had given some shit back. I had thrown things. I mean, they threw things first, but they were management. We had all seen what Gordon Ramsey does to cooks on TV. The cooks don't get to come back, they just have to take it.

Tonight I hadn't taken it, and my current seclusion was a clue that maybe that wasn't the best option.

Fuck, I was going to get fired.

I tried not to think of it. I brought my cigarette up again and yelped when it burned my fingers.
Felt like I had just lit the fucker.

I reached down to fish another out when my fingers brushed against my phone. My hand froze, time slowing down.

I didn't want to get fired, but...

I pulled the phone out, flicking it on and pulling up the browser. It was still on my bank account, just like it had been the past three days

I re-entered the password, checking my balance.

$47,349.43.

I forced myself to swallow, letting out a shuddering breath. $47 grand.

I checked the deposits again.

Work paycheck, work paycheck, work paycheck. Each one around $900, bi-weekly.

No where in the deposits did it mention the $40,000 I had received three days ago, nor the $10,000 three days before that.

Hand trembling, I tapped the little rectangle to pull away from my bank account. I swiped to my pictures.

Me and my work buddies out drinking last night. One of the servers getting way too close to one of the bartenders. Phil, the dish guy, with a bunch of shots in front of him. Probably spent a week's pay out with us last night.

I kept swiping.

Abigail, her long, dark hair spilling out from a little baseball cap. Her mother, Jane, stood with her, smiling. They were at a baseball game somewhere. Jane hated my guts, but she wasn't going to keep our daughter's happiness from me.

I swiped again.

My brother, holding a fish up in the middle of a big white boat, somewhere in the Atlantic.

A woman I didn't know, her hair short and sandy blonde. An older man with a beer to his lips.

My dad, laying in a hospital bed, making a stupid face as my sister posed solemnly next to him. I couldn't help but grin at that old man.

A few more swipes, mostly photos of people I didn't know. A little guy with big muscles standing by my fryer and grinning, three twenty-something year old women sticking their tongues out, drinks in hand. Two guys with their arms around my neck, all three of us dressed in tuxedos.

The door behind me slammed, announcing a new arrival. I twisted back to look up, hoping it wasn't the kitchen manager.

Somehow, it was worse.

The man behind me was about six feet tall, dressed in a black business suit with a matching bowler. He didn't carry an umbrella but his clothes seemed to be shrugging off the rain, sending it splashing away whenever it touched the fabric.

“Awful day for a smoke, Mr. Wilson.” He noted, coming over to sit beside me.

“Awful day for anything.” I replied, trying to keep the tremor from my voice.

“Were you pleased with our last gift?” He asked casually, moving one white-gloved hand towards my phone and flicking through it. He brought up my account again.

“Yes, sir. Thank you very much. It was quite generous.”

He flashed a toothy smile at me, leaning closer.

“You're taking a lot more pictures lately.”

I swallowed but didn't reply.

“Why is that?” He continued.

“Please...” I whispered, looking down. “I don't need any more. You've been so generous, but... no more.”

“It doesn't work that way, John.”

My fist clenched. I wanted to strike him, but I knew that would be pointless. The rain couldn't touch him. I didn't even know what he was.

“But it's not all bad!” The man said cheerily. He tapped my screen again. “You're going to be rich! Are you ready?”
“No...” But I knew I didn't have a choice.

I felt a hand on my hand, it slid up slowly to the back of my head. There was a white flash. A searing pain in the back of my skull. I whimpered pitifully.

I saw something on the edge of my peripheral vision, a glowing green light. It winked out as I turned to look at it.

The man smiled at me warmly, moving his hand back to my phone and tapping on the screen twice.
My balance blurred, then updated.

$247,349.43.

I felt my throat go dry. That was so much money. An unbelievable amount. I could buy Abigail anything she wanted.

Then the panic hit me.

I clicked back to my photos.

Me and my co-workers, the server and bartender, the dishwasher, Abigail and her mother, my brother and the fish. I kept swiping.

More faces I didn't know. The woman with short hair, the man with the beer, my sister posing solemnly next to some goofy old man in a hospital bed.

title: [UR] Equivalent Exchange

question: What does the text say about the qualities that make a good cook?

question: How does the story reflect its genre?

answer: The story being sci-fi/horror, the genre is reflected via the interaction between the protagonist, John Wilson, and the antagonist, a mysterious man wearing a bowler hat who could be an alien or a being with powers. The mysterious man siphons off other peoples' memories and pays them handsomely. The side effect is obviously memory loss. John presumably made a deal with this man, who has been paying John increasingly large sums of money for his memories. As a result, John takes a lot of photos because he is starting to forget important people in his life (his dad) and other events.

question: What does the story say about the argument John had with the kitchen manager?

answer: John was assigned as a fry cook. Customers were sending back their food. It turns out the middle fryer hadn't been cleaned by the person in charge of cleaning it the night before, and the food coming out of it was black. John felt it wasn't his fault as he wasn't responsible for cleaning the fryers, but he guesses he should have paid more attention. He was trying to explain all this to the kitchen manager, but the latter was too angry. The argument got heated and it escalated to the management and John throwing things at each other.

question: What does the story say about John Wilson?

answer: John Wilson is the protagonist of the story. He works as a cook at a busy restaurant that pays him $900 bi-weekly. John has a brother and a sister. His dad is currently in the hospital. John is in a relationship with Abigail, but her mom, Jane, hates him. He is starting to forget a lot of people and events in his life after making a deal with an entity that siphons his memories in exchange for money. More memories mean more money.


text:
Indie Rock N Roll Girl

All she said was bubblegum and that was enough to trigger memories of someone I hadn’t met yet.  Her voice was one that felt familiar, like that of an old friend that you never thought that you would see again.  She held out her arm with the guitar tattoo just above her wrist, waiting for me to hand her my last piece of cotton candy Bubbilicious. The smile that she wore revealed a crooked tooth but that only added to my interest.

She said thanks and handed me a flyer, “you should come to my show.”

All I managed to do was nod my head but before she went on her way, she took the yellow flower that was in her brunette hair and gave it to me.

“A trade.” She said and blew a big bubble with the gum.

The boots hitting the stone floor of the record shop signaled her departure and she was blowing bubbles as she handed out the rest of her flyers to the others in the store.

I went back to sifting through vinyl records but with no purpose other than to pretend to be doing something while I would glance back at this girl in the little blue sundress. I stuck near the entrance hoping that she would see me again when she was leaving and maybe stop to talk to me, but a hand touched me on the shoulder.  It was Quinn and the only person I’d really call my friend.  Quinn brought me along on his weekend trip to the coast with some of his other friends because he thought this would be a good opportunity to get me out of my shell.

“Ready to go, buddy?” Quinn said.   A question that I knew was more of a suggestion because he and the others were ready to go.  So I said yes, knowing that I would miss a real opportunity for me to break out of my shell and I got into the truck parked outside.

“What’s that?”  One of the girls said noticing the yellow flower and flyer in my hand.  I hadn’t really looked at the flyer because I was too distracted with the girl whose name I didn’t know.

One of Quinn’s friends, I think his name started with an E, grabbed the flyer from me.  “Just some lame no name bands playing.”

“Some girl gave me the flower and the flyer, and told me to come see her perform,” I added.

“She probably sucks.” E said and tossed the flyer back towards me.

“Wait, Casey actually talked to a girl.”  The other girl said.  “I never thought that would happen.”

“Nice, did you get her number?” Quinn asked.

“No.”

“Oh, well next time, buddy.” He said making eye contact with me though the rear view mirror.

Our campsite wasn’t far from town where that girl would be playing tonight but it seemed like none of the others wanted to go.  This was the second day of the weekend trip that I spent with these people that I didn’t really know with the exception of Quinn and I was already tired of them.  They were already starting on the sequel of last night which featured heavy drinking.  Nature was best appreciated with a strong buzz.

I sat there in the sand for what seemed to be hours drinking a few beers and watching the guys make their moves on the girls.  Quinn already had his girl and their earlier playful behavior turned into close whispers.  Meanwhile, that E guy seemed to be striking out with his girl since every time he got close she pushed him away.  All of this went on without them even noticing that I was there.  It has been years since I was in high school but with these people I felt like I was back there.  I finished the beer I had and got up to get another one in the back of the truck.

The flyer and yellow flower were still in the back seat.  I stared at the flyer in my hand wanting to go but none of them would come with me.  I would have to go alone if I wanted to see her, but I was already alone here.  Should I go alone?  Could I go alone?  I looked back to the group and they were still doing the same thing.

“I’m going.”  I entered the address of the venue on my phone, emptied whatever sand was in my converse and started towards town.

The venue was more of just a bar with a small stage in the back corner so I ordered a drink and found a good spot to sit at a table close to the stage.  There weren’t many people there but they didn’t lack any enthusiasm for the bands about to perform.  These people covered in tattoos dressed in a strange way with stretched out earlobes had a passion that was not a norm for me.  The cheers and noises when the first band came up to play made it seem like I was a part of something much bigger than I expected.

I got a text from Quinn during the set of the second band wondering where I was.  Imagine if I was in some sort of danger, it took him awhile to even notice that I was gone.  I was about to reply to him when the second band ended and the flower girl came up to the stage wearing the same outfit from earlier.  I think I made eye contact with her and I think she smiled at me.  I didn’t quite catch the name of her band, it was long and obscure, but she played the guitar with a couple other guys playing drums and bass.  I can only describe the sound of their music as different but they were a lot of fun and full of energy.  When her band finished playing everyone in the bar was clapping and she hopped off the stage to high five everyone in the crowd.

Before I could start to hope for her to come my way, she took a seat at my table, “Bubbles! I knew you’d make it.”

Bubbles? Was that my name now?  It didn’t matter to me though what she called me, as long as she called me something.  Her name was Haylee, I learned this when her bandmates joined us at the table.  I was about to buy them a round of drinks but they already had drinks delivered for the table, myself included.

“To a good show.” One of the guys said rising for a toast.

I touched cans with everyone at the table then brought the can to my lips.  My immediate reaction was to spit it out but I forced it down out of respect to them, and that would be the last PBR that I’d ever drink.

“Bubbles, join me for a smoke?” Haylee asked.

“Oh, I don’t smoke.”

“Never?” She said “Well come with me anyways.”

We stood outside under the lights of the venue and Haylee pulled out a pack of cigarettes that was tucked away in her boot.  Haylee lit a cigarette with a lighter that she took out of her other boot and took a long drag, but then she handed the cigarette out towards me.

I was starting to motion the cigarette away when she said. “Be cool, nerd.” so I took it from her putting the cigarette to my lips.

I inhaled a heat that was uncomfortable to my body and caused me to go into a violent coughing attack.

Haylee laughed and took the cigarette from my hand. “You’re not from here huh.”

“Fresno,” was all that I could manage still coughing.

“I’ve been there a few times,” Haylee took another drag from the cigarette. “Shitty place.”

I shrugged my shoulders as I was receiving a call from Quinn, but I rejected it.

“Who’s that?”  Haylee passed the smoke to me.

I inhaled again. “My friend,” I exhaled without problem this time, “Probably ‘worried’ about me.”  And I passed the smoke back to Haylee.

Quinn called again but this time Haylee took my phone and answered. “Bubbles is with me.” And hung up.

Before she handed my phone back, Haylee took a picture of herself posing tough with the cigarette, texted it to Quinn and then turned off my phone.
“Now he’s got nothing to worry about.” She said, “I got you.”  As she said that a man staggered around the corner shouting.

“Shit, maybe you should go, Bubbles.”

I didn’t go.  The staggering man seemed to know Haylee and his shouts were now directed towards her.  As he approached, I could tell that this man was much older than us, likely in his forties.  His speech was belligerent; the only words I could make out were the obscenities and the demands for Haylee to go over to him.  The man came close to Haylee, grabbed her by the wrist and was whispering to her without even noticing me.

“Stop” Haylee said, “Not tonight.”

The man didn’t stop though and she tried to push him away, but the man increased the strength of his grip on her.

“Stop” she said again, but this frustrated the man and he pulled her hard by the wrist.

You can’t just stand there, do something Casey, I pleaded with myself.

I stepped forward “You should stop.”

He kept pulling at her wrist. “Mind your fuckin business guy.”

Haylee increased her struggle to get free from the man but he was too strong for her.

“No,” I said louder, “let her go.” More people came out of the bar to see what was happening.

The man wasn’t listening to me so I got in closer in between the two and ripped the man’s grip away, off of Haylee’s arm.  Haylee created distance from him and he became furious with me.

The man forced me back by pushing my head away with his palm and started to shout obscenities at me.  My body tensed, my face was red hot and I clenched my fists.  In that moment, I wasn’t sure if he was ready to fight but I was, but before any punches were thrown, a few men interrupted to stop anything from happening.  The group of guys held him back as I took some long breaths to counter all the adrenaline that was coursing through my body.

“Come on, Bubbles,” Haylee said as she took me by the arm, “Let’s go.” And I followed her lead.

“Fine bitch, find someplace else to sleep” I heard the man say from a distance.

Haylee just ignored the man’s comments. “Are you hungry?” She said, “I am.” And she continued to lead me down the street.
I wasn’t sure what time it was but there weren’t many places open so that led us to the liquor store that was on the edge of the town.  We were the only ones inside so the cashier watched us with eyes that only saw us as potential thieves.  I watched as Haylee grabbed a mix of candy bars and Hostess treats, occasionally dropping a candy bar into the empty spaces of her boots as if she had done it many times before.  I guess the cashier was right to watch us so carefully but he missed seeing her actions.  I only grabbed some beef jerky and on the way up to the cashier Haylee picked up a small bottle of whiskey.

“I’ll pay for everything.” I said

“Who said anything about paying,” Haylee said before bolting out the door.

I hesitated.  I thought had a few choices but this girl was something else so I ran after her knowing I really only had one.

“Sorry” I shouted as I ran out the door but I emptied my pocket with all my money on the floor before leaving, and it was more than enough to cover for all that we took.

“Hurry up Bubbles” Haylee was shouting, screaming and laughing as she ran down the street away from town and towards the beach.  I caught up to her when she just finally plopped down into the sand on the beach and Haylee took off her boots emptying all the candy that was trapped in them.  We sat there on the beach mixing and matching our heavy breathing with a combination of candy, cupcakes, beef jerky and whiskey.

After we had our fill of junk, we both leaned back with our hands in the sand and let out a breath of satisfaction.  Haylee grabbed her cigarettes and this time I took one without hesitation.

I turned my phone back on to see that I had multiple missed calls and texts.  I called Quinn and when he answered I could sense the relief and frustration in his voice.  He was asking all of these questions of where I was.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” I said exhaling a breath of smoke, “I’m good.” And I hung up the phone.

“So when are you leaving?”

“Early Monday morning.” I said letting out another breath of smoke.

“Take me with you.” She said.

“Um..I..”  I didn’t know what to say.  I took another hit of the cigarette trying to buy some time to find an answer.

“It’s okay,” She said, “I understand.”  Haylee didn’t let me see her face but I could tell that she was just staring out into the ocean smoking her cigarette.

I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew that I couldn’t make a promise to a girl not knowing if I could keep it.  This was the type of decision that couldn’t be made when I somewhat drunk and lacked sleep.

“What’s your real name, Bubbles?”

“Casey.”

“Nice to meet you, Casey.”

There was still a good hour before sunrise so we just sat there on the beach in silence smoking our cigarettes.  I didn’t know what was going to happen next but I took the yellow flower out of my pocket and buried it in the sand, hoping that the beach would accept my trade.

title: [RF] Indie Rock N Roll Girl

question: What does the say about how to start a rock band?

question: Summarize how Casey changes over the course of the story.

answer: The main character, Casey, starts off as a nerdy guy who lives in a shell and doesn't really interact with girls. He's probably shy and lacks confidence, (*Speculation) and it shows when Haylee asks for gum while inviting him to watch her play but all he can do is nod. He was hoping Haylee would stop to talk to him again instead of going after her, and never got her number. Casey only has one real friend in Quinn, who means well and thinks he's doing Casey a favor by bringing him along to the weekend camping trip to the coast with some of his other friends, hoping it would get Casey out of his shell. When with Quinn's group of friends, Casey is an outcast and felt like he was back in high school. He feels alone and decides he wants to meet Haylee, finding the courage to go by himself. At the venue, Casey becomes bolder, smoking with Haylee outside even though he doesn't smoke and defending her from an older, drunk guy Haylee was apparently sleeping with. Haylee brings out the badass in Casey and they go shoplifting for snacks (Casey pays in the end, but still). At the beach, Casey seems more confident and tells Quinn that he'll be fine and there's no need to worry.

question: Summarize the relationship between Casey and Haylee.

answer: Casey feels like he knows Haylee because her voice felt familiar, like that of an old friend, even though they just met that day. She piqued his interest but he was too shy to do or say anything and was relegated to glancing at Haylee while pretending to sift through vinyl records. Nonetheless, a connection was made. Casey attends Haylee's gig and they share a smoke outside and seem to be forming a relationship, even though she doesn't know his name. They become even closer when Haylee was accosted by a drunk man she was apparently sleeping with, and Casey defended her. They spend time on the beach, getting to know each other better when Haylee asks Casey to take her with him back to Fresno when he leaves, to which he had no answer because he couldn't decide. Despite this, they still hung out on the beach.

question: What does the story say about Quinn?

answer: Quinn is Casey's only real friend. He brings Casey on a camping trip with his friends, thinking it would help take Casey out of his shell. Quinn means well and seems to care about Casey as a friend, but it backfires when Quinn and the rest of his friends start to do their own thing and Casey feels like a high school outcast. Throughout the story, Quinn continues to show that he's a good friend by becoming worried when Casey goes AWOL, not stopping his calls and texts until he talks to Casey and learns that the latter is good and he shouldn't worry.

question: What does the story say about Haylee's life?

answer: It seems Haylee has been having a rough time living the life of rock and roll. She's passionate about promoting her band and playing shows, but she has no place to go and is forced to sleep with an older man to have a place to lay her head. Her circumstances have made her adept at shoplifting, which she isn't at all afraid to do. She asks Casey. who was a complete stranger at that point, if he could take her with him when he goes back to Fresno.


text:
R. SHANKAR is an Indian politician. He was elected to the Karnataka Legislative Assembly from Ranebennur in the 2018 Karnataka Legislative Assembly election as a member of the Karnataka Pragnyavantha Janatha Party.[1][2][3][4][5][6]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: R. Shankar (politician)

question: Who is R. Shankar?

answer: An Indian politician.

question: Where was Shankar elected to?

answer: To the Karnataka Legislative Assembly

question: Which party was Shankar a member of when elected?

answer: The Karnataka Pragnyavantha Janatha Party

question: What year was Shankar elected?

answer: He was elected in the 2018 elections.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: R. Shankar is an Indian politician and member of the Karnataka Pragnyavantha Janatha Party whom was elected to the Karnataka Legislative Assembly in 2018.


text:
PIERRE CLEMENTI (May 28, 1910 – April 16, 1982), real name Francis Anthony Clementi, was a French politician active during the 1930s and the occupation of France during the Second World War. He was the founder and leader of the French National-Collectivist Party, which espoused a platform of National Communism, a combination of Fascism, French nationalism and to a certain extent Communism.

Biography

Son of a Corsican official who died in the First World War, he was first close to radical socialist circles, then moved towards Fascism in 1934 with the founding of the French National-Communist Party _(Parti français national-communiste )_, which later changed its name under the orders of the Nazi Occupation to the French National-Collectivist Party _(Parti français national-collectiviste)_, which Clémenti supported. He was the director of the movement's newspaper, _:fr:Le Pays libre_.

in 1941 he helped found the Legion of French Volunteers Against Bolshevism (''Légion des volontaires français contre le bolchevisme '') (LVF), and participated in combat in Russia, as did Marcel Bucard's Mouvement Franciste, Marcel Déat's National Popular Rally, Jacques Doriot's French Popular Party and Eugène Deloncle's Social Revolutionary Movement.

Ater the liberation, he was condemned to death _in absentia,_ but remained in Italy and Germany. He became a member of the :fr:Rassemblement européen de la liberté (REL) active from 1966 through 1969, then of :fr:Ordre nouveau, active from 1969-73. He represented the French section of René Binet's :fr:Nouvel ordre européen a European neofascist movement, which included the CEDADE in Spain and the Sozialistische Reichspartei in West Germany),

Publications

-   _Qu'est-ce que le national-communisme?_
-   _Qu'est-ce que le national collectivisme?_, 1938
-   _La Troisième Paix_, 1949

title: Pierre Clémenti (politician)

question: When was Clementi born?

answer: May 28, 1910

question: What party was Clementi a part of?

answer: The French National-Collectivist Party

question: What happened to Clementi after the liberation of France?

answer: He was condemned to death in absentia, but remained in Italy and Germany

question: What organization did Clementi help found in 1941?

answer: The Legion of French Volunteers Against Bolshevism

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Pierre Clementi was a French politician active during the 1930s and during the occupation of France during WWII. He was the founder and leader of the French National-Collectivist Party, which espoused a platform that was a combination of Fascism, French nationalism, and to a certain extent Communism. After the liberation of France, he was condemned to death in absentia, but he remained in Germany and Italy. He died in 1982.


text:
Motivation

In the good old days of the WWW, an elite webpage had a bit of text sprinkled with images. Here, take a look at a top internet destination in 1998. Nowadays, you need a constantly updating stream of tidbits, an extensive link profile, social plugins to Twitter and Facebook, and a dedicated community of readers. Blogs have dethroned the static homepage and taken the web presence crown.

The web is aesthetically a much nicer place now, but this comes with the cost of great complexity. Building a great web presence from scratch isn't easy. To save you from the endless pit that is tweaking your personal web presence, a whole host of companies began offering canned options. We call it the social web. In terms of customizability, the solutions ranges from strait-jacket-esque monocultures (Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Linkedin) to theme-based customizable (Wordpress, Blogger, Typepad) to you-are-god-don't-mess-up (Heroku, Amazon Web Services, Digital Ocean).

Each solutions lives on the Easy-Custom continuum. Unusually user-friendly sites like Facebook and Twitter cannot offer ridiculous power user features. Conversely, Wordpress cannot offer a super simple way to get your completely unique snowflake-of-a-web presence online.

The solution all have drawbacks: paying to attach a custom domain name, limited selection of themes, cannot modify the site from the comfort of your own server and having to work through their clunky UI. Ideally, we would have a framework that takes in plain-text and just spits out an awesome looking plain HTML site. That way, you can take that site and throw it onto any old web hosting company or an old server running in your closet.

Enter the static site generator.

The static site generator is a framework that allows you to quickly push _content_ to your site. It's Wordpress on command line crack. If havn't yet understood the power of the command line, I recommend you checkout the Command Line Parser project.

Here's how you would create a new post in a site generator:

    1. Create a new file
    2. Fill it with text or optionally HTML, depending on your mood
    3. Hit "Go"

The generator will pick up your changes, convert all text into HTML and upload a shiny new version to your web host.

Problem Statement

For this example, we will be using Jinja2 for templating and Markdown with the meta extension for content. Both are available for installation via pip.

Architectural Concerns

Fundamentally, a static site generator is quite straight forward. You take all the files in a directory, you pass it through a few utilities that convert a file of one type (reStructured Text, asciiDoc, Markdown) into HTML, then you spit those files into an output directory.

Our site generator will support two types of documents: pages and articles. Articles are like blog posts, you'll update them frequently and they should automagically appear on our index.html Pages are long lived content that have permanent homes on our site (e.g. about, contact, FAQs).

The valuable lesson here is to design for extensibility. How will you support new file formats like RSS), or a new publishing option like direct upload to web host?

Command Line Interface

A barebones CLI needs to support two commands: bootstrap and make.

Bootstrap sets up the general directory structure with the appropriate stubs.

Make will do the following:

    1. Go into the input directory and retrieve all files.
    2. Parse metadata from the file.
    3. Convert the rest of the file into HTML
    4. Output into another directory, respecting their metadata.

Directory Layout

Like Git, we will consider a directory a project. Our directory layout must encourage decoupling of presentation from content. Here is an example of how you would structure your directory.

    ~/simple-blog
        settings.py
        /static                   # Holds your static assets. Images, javascript and css
            jquery.js
            bootstrap.css
        /templates
            /base.html            # A nice base template that carries common elements like headers, navigation and sidebars
            /entry.html           # Template for a blog entry
            /page.html            # Template for a static page
        /content
            /entries              # Blog entries
            /pages                # Static pages like about, contact, index
        /output

Writing

You don't want to write your entire site in pure HTML, instead you want to use something closer to plain text. Markdown is a nice compromise between unstructured text and HTML. You get to write what looks like a nicely organized email and it all gets nicely decorated with
's and

's for you. Your static generator will take all the text that is markdown (indicated with .md) and put it in their appropriate place. If you want to write pure HTML then use .html ending. Everything just gets slotted into your themes.

Each file will need a bit of metadata at the top. You can use this to specify date of publication, author, title. A bunch of hooks that you want to modify on the site itself, but not exactly part of the content. Maybe each author will have their own column. You must parse metadata in it's own step.

Here is an example file that can be parsed with the Python package Markdown (with the meta extension).

    Title: My First Blog Post
    Date: 2013-08-19
    Author: Louie Dinh
    Summary: Saying Hi To The World

    My First Blog Post
    ----------

    Just saying hi to the world!

Configuration

You'll need a way to do site-specific configuration. A few things you might want to configure include: domain, twitter handle, and email address. Your generator will load this settings file to be included during the generation phase.

Example setings.py:

    EMAIL = "me@pythonpracticeprojects.com"
    DOMAIN = "pythonpracticeprojects.com"

BONUS: Development Server

Ideally, you would have a simple daemon that watches your content directory for changes. When a file is touched, the daemon will re-run your site generator and keep your output folder up-to-date. The daemon also runs a simple HTTP server that hosts your file so you can view your site through a web browser.

Your Task

Create a static site generator. Here is what an example session would look like.

    # Bootstrap
    $ mkdir ~/simple-blog
    $ cd ~/simple-blog
    $ python ~/Code/bloggy.py bootstrap

    # Go add some static stuff like jquery, bootstrap
    ...

    # Directory Structure
    $ ls
    ~/simple-blog
        settings.py
        /static
            jquery.js
            bootstrap.css
        /templates
            /base.html            # A nice base template that carries common elements like headers, navigation and sidebars
            /entry.html           # Template for a blog entry
            /page.html            # Template for a static page
        /content
            index.md
            /entries              # Blog entries
            /pages                # Static pages like about, contact, index. Right now these are just empty stubs.
                about.md
                contact.md
        /output

    # Write your first post. Something like "My First Blog Post" described in the section Writing.
    $ vim content/entries/my-first-blog-post

    # Make
    $ python ~/Code/bloggy.py generate

    # Output
    $ cd output
    $ ls
        ~/simple-blog
            ...             # Omitted for clarify
            /output
                index.html  # Contains a link to my-first-blog-post.html
                /static
                    jquery.css
                    bootstrap.css
                /entries
                    my-first-blog-post.html
                /pages
                    about.html
                    contact.html

Now you can just go upload the content of your output directory to any web host.

References

-   Pelican
-   Nikola
-   Hyde
-   Sphinx

question: Explain the major differences of Web pages in the 1990s from today.

answer: In the late 1990s, a webpage consisted of text sprinkled with images. Today, there is a constant stream of components that make up a page. A link profile, social plugins and a community of readers are needed to keep a page alive. The web is aesthetically a nicer place now, however it is more complex than before.


text:
The MEDARI MASSACRE was the mass murder of 22 Croatian Serb civilians on 1 May 1995 by members of the Croatian Army (HV) during Operation Flash. On 1 May 1995, according to Zagreb-based NGO Documenta and HHO, the Croatian Army killed 22 civilians, including 11 women and three children, in the village of Medari near Nova Gradiska in western Slavonia.[1] Two sisters, Radmila and Mirjana Vukovic survived the massacre by chance because they went to high school in a nearby town in Bosnia and Herzegovina.[2] Their father, mother and seven-year-old sister were killed that day.[3]

[1]

[2]

[3]

title: Medari massacre

question: Explain what happened in the village of Medari.

answer: It is where the massacre of 22 Croatian Serb civilians took place by the Croatian Army in 1995.