text:
Taking a deep breath, Daniel turned the knob. He walked into the room trying to assess his surroundings quickly while still maintaining his composure. The room was medium sized. Guards flanked the doors and lined the walls. The table in the center contained a machine, placed in front of its terrified operator, and wires leading towards--Daniel heard the door lock behind him, sealing him in with that ... _thing_. The creature lay in the center of the room, its presence consuming and demanding. It did nothing to warrant this attention, it lacked even the slightest hint of movement, yet it commanded the attention of every human. Daniel approached the table.

His steps reverberated throughout the room, cleaving the silence.

Each step brought discomfort.

Daniel hid is unease.

He wore his face like a mask.

But, his eyes tore the room apart instinctively, looking for separation.

Yet, he continued forward.

Daniel closed the distance between him and the thing until he was close enough to look down upon it.

He dragged the chair back. There was a sigh of relief in the room as the sound put an end to the silence. The guards readjusted their weapons; the operator began to fiddle with his equipment; and the thing … rippled. Perhaps it was a welcoming-- Daniel sneered, or a challenge. Daniel looked at the operator who continued to nervously fiddle with his equipment in a transfixed manner.

Daniel quickly lifted his briefcase onto the table, unconsciously determined to keep the silence at bay. The briefcase opened with a satisfying click. He spread the pages across his end of the table. He hadn’t even had time to read up on the literature before he was rushed here, so he slowly began to rustle through the documents one by one.

In one of the dossiers, Daniel saw pictures of the thing taken a few hours ago when it had first arrived. It looked ... different. Daniel dared a glance at the thing. It was duller now, more opaque, than it was in the photos. Its “flaps” and “fins” drooped, and its entire body looked like it was being compressed and squashed against the table. It reminded him of melted ice cream. Daniel’s stomach churned and he looked back down towards the reports. He only scanned the next fifty pages. In total, the reports said nothing about it in thousands of words. It was an enigma and unlike anything else.  He was the first. He had his shot before even the scientists could get their hands on it. He didn’t know whether to feel honored or terrified.

Daniel noticed a slight noise coming from the receiver on the table. Grimacing, Daniel picked up the receiver and placed it in his ear. He disliked this but it was “standard” procedure.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice demanded.

Daniel did not recognize the voice but it was filled with an arrogance that enraged him. Daniel turned his steely gaze towards one of the cameras.

“I assume you’d like me to know what it is exactly that I’m doing sir. Perhaps next time you should give me more time to read th--“

“Colonel Lehmann! You were sent to communicate with the threat and decide the best course of action. Now if you are incapable of this very simple task you will be relieved. Understood?”  That was the Secretary of Defense. How many bureaucrats hid in the shadows, watching with safety behind their cameras and walls? If you turned on a light would they scatter…?

“Crystal,” said Daniel.

He slid his papers away, clearing the field. He looked back at the thing’s side. It seemed even duller than the last time he had looked but he couldn’t be sure. Daniel nodded to the operator and received a shaky thumbs-up.

They were good to go. “Why are you here?” Daniel inquired.

The machine began to beep as the operator quickly worked on deciphering each letter into dots and dashes. Finally the operator slumped back into his seat. He fidgeted with items near him to occupy himself until it answered--if it answered.

Daniel felt the hairs on his neck rise and tasted ozone. There was a sharp crack as the operator dropped his pencil. Daniel looked around to see that the guards had raised their weapons slightly and the operator was stiff with his eyes staring straight out, staring slightly past the thing, like a deer caught in headlights. They sensed it too. The machine began to hiss with static. Then the voices began, like several people speaking at once, not fighting for air but sharing it.

“We are here as messengers,” the voices said.

Then the bureaucrats began. It started with disconcerted mumbling occasionally loud enough to be transmitted and then broke out into yelling and arguments. Daniel rubbed his temples. They were already at each other’s throats. Doing his best to ignore the receiver, Daniel glanced around the room admiring the unflinching guards. They held their weapons with a trained ease, confident in the superiority they provided. But in such a case as this, could they really be sure?

“What do you mean by “we?” Daniel said.

“Those who stand before you and those we represent.”

The thing’s--perhaps things’-- antennae gave a lazy dismissive flick. Could it really be multiple creatures?

“What are you?”

“There is no auditory representation of us. You may choose your own.”

“How many of you are here?”

“Just us.” The thing began to ripple more erratically. “We do not have time for this.”

Daniel leaned forward, “What is your message?”

“End all emission of electrical signals--immediately.”

The noise from the receiver broke into a roar. The bureaucrats knew exactly what was at stake. Economies would be crippled. Society and development would be flung decades back. Preventing a few people out of seven billion from using electrical signals is infeasible. Most importantly, even if it were possible, reelection after implementing such a procedure would not be.

“You want us to turn off all our wireless transmissions?”

The creature … expanded. “Yes.”

“We cannot.” Even with the continuous yelling, the humans listening in seemed to agree on this much. Daniel waited for the operator to transmit his message. He was slow in doing so, and his actions and responses were slurred like a man in daze.

Before the operator had transmitted the message, the static hissed from the machine again, causing the operator to nearly leap backwards into the arms of one of the guards.

“Why?!”

Daniel nearly flinched. His heartbeat quickened and he had to forcefully pace himself. In an effort to mask his unease he nonchalantly motioned for someone to bring him water. Daniel turned his impassive face towards the thing again with renewed hostility.

 “We do not trust you.” He heard the bureaucrats murmur an agreement--the stars must have been aligned.

The fins rippled and groups of voices took turns to speak, “Your emissions are a beacon, a beacon that could lead them to us or yourselves. They are close. And if they find you, they will destroy us all.”

“Who are they?”

“Nomads. Parasites. Conquerors. If they find you it will only be a matter of time before you reveal us. You _must_ stop”

Additional Info: This was originally a homework assignment. It's been long since completed and submitted and I wish to continue it for my own benefit. However, I feel like I hit a wall in the writing and can't continue. I want the encounter to end with hostility but I cannot get it to unfold in such a manner. Any critique and suggestions would be hugely appreciated.

title: [SF] The Encounter

question: What does the story say about what type of alien the creature is?

question: What does the story say about the protagonist?

answer: The protagonist is Colonel Daniel Lehmann. He was sent by the Secretary of Defense to communicate with the creature and decide the best course of action. Daniel was given the first shot at the creature even before the scientists could get their hands on it. He doesn't know whether to feel honored or terrified.

question: What does the story say about the creature?

answer: The creature is presumably an alien that has no auditory representation. It had "flaps", "fins", antennae, and was becoming more opaque. It seemed duller than in previous photos and its body rippled. The creature had no shape and appeared to be compressed and squashed against the table, like melted ice cream. It referred to itself as "we" like it was more than one creature, and says that they are messengers.

question: What does the alien creature want?

answer: The alien creature wants humans to end all emission of electrical signals immediately. It said that the emissions are a beacon that could lead Nomads, Parasites, and Conquerors (presumably hostile alien races) to the humans and therefore to them. The creature says that these hostile aliens are close and they will destroy them.


split: test

text:
MARY WASHINGTON BACHELER (February 22, 1860 – November 5, 1939)[1] was an American physician and Baptist medical missionary in India.

Early life

Mary Washington Bacheler was born February 22, 1860, in New Hampton, New Hampshire,[2] the daughter of Rev. Otis Robinson Bacheler and his second wife, Sarah P. Merrill Bacheler.[3] When Mary was a girl, she moved to India, where her father, a medical doctor and ordained minister, and her mother, an educator, were Baptist missionaries at Midnapore.[4] As a teen she worked with her mother, visiting and teaching women in zenana. She returned to the United States to pursue a medical degree at the Women's Medical College in New York City.[5]

Career

Bacheler completed her medical degree in 1890, and was appointed to assist her father, as the first medical missionary of the Free Baptist Woman's Missionary Society. She took over her parents' work at Midnapore when they retired in 1893. She taught school and provided medical care for women who would not see a male doctor for religious reasons. [6][7] She was in the United States in 1900 for her own health, and to tend to her ailing parents (they died in 1900 and 1901). “I suppose I worked too hard after father and mother left,” she recalled, “for several times I got low fever and was quite incapacitated.”[8] She spoke in New England churches while she was on leave.[9]

Bacheler returned to India in 1903, and lived with Miss Lavina Coombs in Midnapore, until Bacheler was transferred to Balasore in 1910. The two women traveled to the United States for rest in 1912–1913. Bacheler was back in India in 1914, first helping a Miss Butts at Shantipur, and then back in Balasore to run an orphanage there.[10][11] She spoke the Bengali and Odia languages fluently.[12]

Bacheler returned to the United States in 1921 for the jubilee of the Woman's American Baptist Free Missionary Society, with Midnapore teacher Khanto Bala Rai.[13] She retired in 1933 and left India in 1936.[14]

Personal life

Bacheler died in 1939, aged 79 years, in Newton, Massachusetts.[15] There is a small collection of her papers at the American Baptist Historical Society archives.[16]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8] Bacheler, Dr. Mary W. “Recollection of FIfty Years in India” _Bengal-Orissa Tidings_ (June 1934): 9.

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12] “Mary Washington Bacheler” _Tidings from Bengal-Orissa_ (June 1934): 3-7.

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

title: Mary W. Bacheler

question: Summarize all the information relating to Mary W. Bacheler's education.

answer: Her early years were spent in India. She returned to U.S.A. to pursue a medical degree at the Women's Medical College in New York City. She completed her medical degree in 1890.

question: Where did Mary W. Bacheler work?

answer: She worked with her mother visiting and teaching women when she was a teen. After receiving her medical degree she was appointed to assist her father as the first medical missionary of the Free Baptist Women's Missionary Society. She taught school and provided medical care for women who would not see a male doctor for religious reasons. She also helped at Shantipur and ran an orphanage in Balasore.

question: Why did Mary W. Bacheler work in India and not in her native U.S.A.?

answer: She worked for the Free Baptist Woman's Missionary Society and took over her parents' work when they retired. Their work was for the Baptist Missionary Society in India.

question: Why was Mary W. Bacheler well suited to work in India?

answer: She grew up there, spoke the Bengali and Odia languages fluently and she could provide medical care to women who were unable to see a male doctor for religious reasons.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Mary W. Bacheler was a medical doctor and missionary for the Free Baptist Women's Missionary Society. She did the majority of her work in India.


text:
**20 Minutes**

**a silly short story by:**

**AFG**

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Oh well, suit yourself!*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Fuck you, what do you want anyway?*

*“Pull your shit together”*

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

*“How long you have been here?”*

*It’s been a long journey*

*“You know time isn’t linear”*

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

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

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

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

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

After all, that was all that happened.

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

question: Explain the theme of oppression in the story of the bear and the bee and how it relates to real-life events.

answer: A foreign bear wandered into a jungle and was fascinated by the taste and plethora of foreign honey. The bear gathered beehives to take back to his wood, which he would later sell to other bears. When the bee noticed that all his honey was depleting, he approached the bear and tried to reason with him. He informed him that the honey has been in the family for generations, but he is willing to share their resources and receive a small portion of the money made from sales. However, the bear wickedly and violently crushed and killed the bee and declared that the industrial machine pays no duty. This story depicts every form of oppression in the sense that the bear took advantage of his authority, power, and size to intimidate the bee by appropriating resources that have been passed down from generations for his selfish use. In real life, this can be likened to how foreigners infiltrate a land and force the inhabitants to relinquish their rights and properties without lending an ear to an agreement/understanding to share said properties.

question: According to the story, why was Sean unable to stay focused on anything?


text:
Dear /r/ShortStories,

I just finished an english course which had the benefit of an amazingly inspirational teacher. That means I recently got into writing; I've done some shorts here and there, and I mostly kept these to myself, but I recently became confident enough to share some of these stories. That said, I've also come to appreciate honest criticism as a way to grow stronger.

Thank you for taking the time to read it.

A Trip To the Dentist
-

A few years ago I read an article about a man who had gotten into trouble when a newspaper reporter learned that he was operating a “dental clinic” in his basement. He managed to brush off the reporter by saying that it was his own private museum, but by then he became somewhat notorious for actually doing dental work.

This got me thinking two things: first, whenever I go to a museum, most of the exhibits aren’t in any shape to be doing what they were originally meant to be doing. Ever see an axe at the museum? They’re all rusty and missing bits, and they’d probably vapourize under the pressure of trying to get stuck in a tree. I think the reason I’ve never seen much in the way of dentistry at the Royal Ontario Museum is because they’re afraid it would scare people away from the museum and terrify what few people otherwise brave the dentist today!

I’m one of the lucky few who’s never had a bad experience at the dentist, so a few years ago, when I hadn’t gotten a proper dental cleaning in a decade, it wasn’t out of fear, but out of ignorance. When I think about gaps in what I think I know, I try to fill them in, and that was my second thought: that with the Internet, you can learn ANYTHING! We have the combined power of Wikipedia and YouTube, and surely someone saw a void in the at-home orthodontist video market. And so, keen to learn about something new, I unassumingly decided to look up dentistry.

What a horrific mistake that was…

There were a few videos, with some cautionary messages at the beginning. Usually it was people describing the bone-melting acids they’d use to etch the surface of a tooth, followed by details skimming over the dangers of the medical-grade epoxies they use to seal up valleys and cracks. Amateur dentists take great pride in their work, and with good reason: few people know anyone who talks about their surgical hobbies, and I imagine fewer still would be eager to assist with performing surgery. They need to act solo.

Novocain can’t exactly be bought off the shelf, either – the only practical solution is to either take a pile of pain killers (which makes it hard to co-ordinate) or “go clean”, without taking anything to prepare (due to the potential of extreme pain, this makes it harder to co-ordinate). And then the bleeding. And then the diseases, not from the original cavity, but from the botches and failures! I’ve read about tattoo artists who can ink their own skin, but slipping means either going with the flow or covering up, not trying to find a donor set of teeth while wrangling penicillin from strangers on a long weekend; patching a tooth isn’t a two-hour chore.

The great news is that learning and seeing these horrors redoubled my intention to never, ever let things get so bad that I’d become like one of those gruesome images. In fact, any lingering fear of dentists evaporated into respect. I go to the George Brown Wave Clinic for annual cleanings now, and in the process, ironically or not, I’ve even learned a lot about dental hygiene. I even became an exhibit myself once – I still have my wisdoms, making for a full set of teeth. One student hygienists described me as the weirdest patient they’d ever had, but she brought out a tray of dental tools and challenged me to identify the various weapons of oral warfare - I guess that’s a plus. I find it curious that the periodontal probe they use has a black-and-yellow waspy look – that shit terrifies me.

I’m also deathly afraid of museums.

title: [NF] A Trip To the Dentist

question: What does the text say about amateur dental work?

answer: The narrator discusses amateur dentists who do their own dental work. They recall a man who had a dental clinic in his basement, but would brush it off as a private museum. Some people upload their amateur dental work on Youtube, supposedly filling a void in the at-home orthodontist market. These amateurs would use bone melting acids to etch the surface of a tooth, or skim over the dangers of medical grade epoxies. Amateur dentists run the risk of being unable to obtain Novocain, bleeding, getting diseases, taking penicillin from strangers, and having to get brand new teeth.

question: Summarize the lesson the narrator learns.

answer: The narrator decided they wanted to learn about at-home dentistry. They learn about all of the negatives of at-home dentistry, which can include lack of Novocain, bleeding, and diseases. Seeing these horrors made the narrator learn that they will never let things get so bad that they'd turn to at-home dentistry. They now go to a real dental clinic.

question: What does the story say about internet research?

answer: With the internet, one can learn anything. The narrator decides to head to Wikipedia and Youtube to learn about at-home orthodontics and dentistry. They watched videos with cautionary messages. Through internet research, the narrator is able to learn that they do not wish to embark on at-home dentistry.

question: What does the text say about tooth brushes?


text:
_THE SON OF THE RED CORSAIR_ (Italian: _IL FIGLIO DEL CORSARO ROSSO_) is a 1943 Italian historical adventure film directed by Marco Elter and starring Vittorio Sanipoli, Luisa Ferida and Memo Benassi. It is an adaptation of the 1908 novel _The Son of the Red Corsair_ by Emilio Salgari.[1]

It was shot at Cinecittà Studios in Rome. The film's sets were designed by the art director Gino Morici.

Cast

-   Vittorio Sanipoli as Enrico di Ventimiglia
-   Luisa Ferida as Carmen
-   Memo Benassi as Il marchese di Montelimar
-   Loredana as Neala
-   Pina Renzi as Panchita
-   Aldo Silvani as Don Barrejo de la Tuelva
-   Idolo Tancredi as Un corsaro
-   Domenico Viglione Borghese as Un corsaro
-   Felice Minotti as Un corsaro

[1] Goble p.405

title: The Son of the Red Corsair (1943 film)

question: How would the film, The Son of the Red Corsair, be classified?

answer: It would be classified as an Italian historical adventure film.

question: Where was this film shot?

answer: It was shot at Cinecitta Studios in Rome.

question: Who starred in the film?

answer: Actors Vittorio Sanipoli and Luisa Ferida and Memo Benassi starred in the film.

question: How many people were cast in this film?

answer: According to the article, 9 people were cast in this film.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: A brief overview of the 1943 Italian historical adventure film, The Son of the Red Corsair, is given in this article.


text:
HNK VUKOVAR '91 was a Croatian football club based in the river port of Vukovar.

Under the name NK VUKOVAR '91, club was founded in Zagreb by Vukovar refugees during the Croatian War of Independence. In 1992, newly founded Vukovar '91 merged with NK SLOGA, traditional Vukovar football club.

Club's greatest success is winning of Croatian second division in the 1998–99 season which earned them promotion to Prva HNL. They lasted there only for one season and were relegated after finishing last.

In the 2001–02 season, they finished first in the North Division of Druga HNL but were defeated by Šibenik in two-legged promotion play-off. In 2007–08 season they were relegated from Druga HNL, but managed to come back after just one season in the third tier of Croatian football. Their third spell in Druga HNL did not last long and they were relegated once again at the end of 2010–11 season.

In January 2012, the club stepped out from Treća HNL East due to financial difficulties.[1] On 8 February 2012, it was announced that the club was officially dissolved due to high debts.[2] In the summer of 2012, a new club under the name HNK Vukovar 1991 was formed.

List of seasons

  Season      League                                                                                Cup    Top goalscorer
  ----------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------ ---------------- ----- ----- ------ ------ ------ -------- ------- ----------------------------------- ----
  Division    P                                                                                W      D
  1992
  1992–93
  1993–94
  1994–95
  1995–96     _Club froze its status due to peaceful reintegration of Podunavlje after Croatian War of Independence_
  1996–97
  1997–98
  1998–99     2. HNL                                                                                36     22
  1999–2000   1. HNL                                                                                33     7
  2000–01     2. HNL                                                                                34     13
  2001–02     2. HNL North                                                                                30     23
  2002–03     2. HNL North                                                                                32     11
  2003–04     2. HNL North                                                                                32     14
  2004–05     2. HNL North                                                                                32     10
  2005–06     2. HNL North                                                                                32     13
  2006–07     2. HNL                                                                                30     9
  2007–08     2. HNL                                                                                30     6
  2008–09     3. HNL East                                                                                33     17
  2009–10     2. HNL                                                                                26     7
  2010–11     2. HNL                                                                                30     6
  2011–12     3. HNL East                                                                                _15_   _4_

[1]

[2]

title: HNK Vukovar '91

question: What does the text say about the circumstance(s) surrounding the club's relegation from Druga HNL in the 2007/2008 season?


text:
KNIGHTSBRIDGE is a residential and retail district in central London,[1] south of Hyde Park. It is identified in the London Plan as one of two international retail centres in London, alongside the West End.[2]

Toponymy

Knightsbridge was historically known in Saxon and Old English as _Cnihtebricge_ (c. 1050); _Knichtebrig_ (1235); _Cnichtebrugge_ (13th century); and _Knyghtesbrugg_ 1364, that is “bridge of the young men or retainers,” from Old English _cniht_ (genitive case plural –a) and _brycg_. The original bridge was where one of the old roads to the west crossed the River Westbourne. The allusion may simply be to a place where _cnihtas_ congregated: bridges and wells seem always to have been favourite gathering places of young people. However, there is possibly a more specific reference to the important _cnihtengild_ (‘guild of _cnihtas_‘) in 11th-century London and to the limits of its jurisdiction (certainly Knightsbridge was one of the limits of the commercial jurisdiction of the City in the 12th century). _Cniht_ in the pre-Norman days did not have the status meaning of a minor noble, but simply described a horseman.[3]

There is also the theory that the bridge may have been used by wealthy residents, the “knights and ladies” rather than the common folk, and that the area was used as a meeting place for local youths – where “knight” was a slang term for “lad”. Even the original name of the area has come under scrutiny with some arguing it was called _Knightsbrigg_ while others believe it was _Kynesbrigg_.

History

[Map showing two Knightsbridge wards of Westminster Metropolitan Borough (to the west) as they appeared in 1916] Knightsbridge was a hamlet located primarily in the parish of St Margaret (detached) and partly in St Martin in the Fields (the part that later became St George Hanover Square). It also extended into the parishes of Kensington and Chelsea. It was therefore divided between local authorities from a very early time.[4]

In the time of Edward I, the manor of Knightsbridge appertained to the abbey of Westminster.[5] It was named after a crossing of the River Westbourne, which is now an underground river. It is recorded that the citizens of London met Matilda of England at the Knight's Bridge in 1141.

From 1885 to 1887, as a result of the opening of trade between Britain and the Far East, Humphreys' Hall in Knightsbridge hosted an exhibition of Japanese culture in a setting built to resemble a traditional Japanese village. The exhibition was very popular, with over 250,000 visitors during its early months.[6] Japanese artisans illustrated “the manners, customs and art-industries of their country, attired in their national and picturesque costumes. Magnificently decorated and illuminated Buddhist temple. Five o'clock tea in the Japanese tea-house. Japanese Musical and other Entertainments. Every-day Life as in Japan”.[7] W. S. Gilbert and his wife attended the exhibition, which is said to have inspired him to write _The Mikado_. When the Mikado requests of Ko-Ko the address of his son (Nanki-Poo) after Ko-Ko tells the Mikado that Nanki-Poo has “gone abroad”, Ko-Ko replies that Nanki-Poo has gone to Knightsbridge.[8]

Geography

Knightsbridge is east of Exhibition Road and west of Sloane Street. Brompton Road, Beauchamp Place and the western section of Pont Street serve roughly as its southern border together with their adjacent gardens and squares such as Ovington Square, Lennox Gardens and Cadogan Square. South of this area, the district fades into Chelsea while Belgravia lies to the east and South Kensington to the west.

Economy

Knightsbridge is home to many expensive shops, including the department stores Harrods and Harvey Nichols, and flagship stores of many British and international fashion houses, including those of London-based shoe designers Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik, and two Prada stores. The district also has banks that cater to wealthy individuals. Some of London's most renowned restaurants are here, as well as many exclusive hair and beauty salons, antiques and antiquities dealers, and chic bars and clubs. Bonhams auction house is located in Knightsbridge.[9]

Property

The district and the road itself, which is the only definitive place within it, is small, which assists its cachet: more than half of the zone closest to its tube station (and nearer to no others) is Knightsbridge Underground station. Knightsbridge had in its park side, east and west gold-coloured blocks of exceptional wealth in philanthropist Charles Booth's late Victorian Poverty Map, formerly excluding Brompton Road to the west but extending well into Piccadilly, St James's to the east.[10] Knightsbridge is home to many of the world's richest people and has some of the highest property prices in the world. In 2014 a terrace of 427m² sold for £15,950,000, a home in Montpelier Square.[11] The average asking price for all the properties in slightly wider SW7 was £4,348,911 (as at Autumn 2014). On-street parking spaces have sold for as much as £300,000 for a 94-year lease. Fourteen of Britain's two hundred most expensive streets are in the neighbourhood, as defined by _The Times_.[12]

One Hyde Park

In February 2007, the world's most expensive apartment at One Hyde Park, sold off plan for £100 million, bought by a Qatari prince, and another apartment at the same place in February 2009, at almost the same price, was bought by a Qatari prince.[13] Apartments of this secure, optimum specification, address equate to in excess of £4,000 per square foot (£43,000 per square metre).

In 2014, a 16,000 ft² two-storey penthouse in One Hyde Park sold for £140 million.[14]

History of property construction

Land in Knightsbridge is for the most part identified by City of Westminster (and by the RBKC, where former Brompton parts are included) as strengthened planning law-governed Conservation Areas: 'Albert Gate', 'Belgravia', 'Knightsbridge' and 'Knightsbridge Green'.[15] Properties must be offered here by developers as refurbished flats or houses meeting the enhanced architectural demands in the local Conservation Areas policy of the Local Plan. Within each many buildings are covered by the similar but separate requirements of being listed. Growing demand has since 2000 persuaded the authority to revise its planning policies to permit roof terraces and basement extensions, for residential facilities from leisure suites to private nightclubs, a degree of economic liberalisation documented by a non-tabloid paper in 2008.[16]

The underlying landowners of the few streets making up, without any dispute, Knightsbridge are the Duke of Westminster, Lord Cadogan and the Wellcome Trust with a minority of the freeholds to houses in each street sold to others. Red-brick Queen Anne revival buildings form most of the Cadogan Estates, whereas white stucco-fronted houses are mostly found on the Grosvenor Estate, designed by architect Thomas Cubitt.[17]

The Brompton Oratory, a place of Catholic worship, marks one of the transitions into Kensington, but Belgravia and Brompton have competing mapped neighbourhood status in the east and south of the neighbourhood, and as they have no eponymously named tube stations or historic parish boundaries, their limits are arbitrary and the triangular salient of Brompton, administratively in Kensington, as part of South Kensington, once coloured mid-wealth by Charles Booth, is now blurred with 'Knightsbridge', into which it long projected.

Brompton is only used when the postcode and/or Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea is being emphasised, rather than the modern Central London 'district' definitions, which suggest Knightsbridge or South Kensington, either tube station, being at most 350 m away and thus can be easily found on all maps.

Crime

For centuries, the area was renowned as the haunt of highwaymen, robbers and cutthroats targeting travellers on the western route out of London, but its fortunes were transformed in the 19th century. However, the area has been a target of several high-profile crimes.

In September and October 1975, the Spaghetti House siege happened.

In November 1975, two civilians were killed by the Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA) in the Walton's Restaurant bombing.

In 1980, the Iranian Embassy siege took place, lasting several days. It ended when the Special Air Service stormed the building, which was on live television.

In 1983, three Christmas shoppers and three Metropolitan Police officers were killed by an IRA car bomb outside Harrods.[18]

In 1987, the Knightsbridge Security Deposit centre was the target of a robbery worth £60 million.

In 2005, 22-year-old beautician Clare Bernal was gunned down by her ex-boyfriend Michal Pech on the shopfloor of Harvey Nichols in front of colleagues and shoppers before Pech fatally turned the gun on himself. The case attracted extensive coverage in the media, and Clare's mother Patricia has since led a campaign to address flaws in the system, which allowed her daughter's murder to happen.[19]

Many residential buildings are heavily covered by CCTV and are staffed by security guards, and railings or bars on lower floor windows are commonplace.

Buildings

To the north of the area, is the Hyde Park Barracks of the Household Cavalry, with a distinctive 33 storey tower by Sir Basil Spence. The Royalty and Diplomatic Protection Department is based in Walton Street. The Embassy of Libya is located at 15 Knightsbridge, the Embassy of France at no 58 and the Embassy of Kuwait at 2 Albert Gate, just off Knightsbridge.[20]

On the religious side it contains the impressive Brompton Oratory (Catholic church, Brompton Road) and the CoE Holy Trinity Church behind it, a Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Exhibition Road, the Russian Orthodox Church in Ennismore Gardens, St Columba's Church of Scotland, Pont Street, and Deutsche Evangelische Christuskirche. The former St Saviour's church, designed by George Basevi, is now a private home.

Notably, particular buildings of Hill House School are located here at Cadogan Gardens and Hans Place.

Transport

Knightsbridge takes its name from the road that runs along the south side of Hyde Park, west from Hyde Park Corner, spanning the City of Westminster and the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea. Up to Brompton Road, it is a part of the A4 arterial road, while the remainder is part of the A315 road. West of Rutland Gardens, the road becomes Kensington Road.

It is served by Knightsbridge station on the Piccadilly line, and Sloane Square station on the District and Circle lines. Brompton Road station closed in 1934.

In popular culture

Eric Coates uses Knightsbridge as the setting of a march for the 3rd movement of his _London Suite_ (1933). It gained popularity through the radio show _In Town Tonight_ (1933–1960).

Knightsbridge is referenced in the Rolling Stones song “Play with Fire”, released in 1965. Knightsbridge is used as an indicator of a character's privilege. In the 2017 film _The Foreigner_, Knightsbridge is the location of a detonated bomb that sets the plot in motion.

Knightsbridge is referenced in the story book _Neverwhere_ by Neil Gaiman as a place the protagonists need to cross to go to the next floating market. “The Knightsbridge” is used a metaphor for the night and its dangers they need to pass through.[21]

[1]

[2] {{ cite web | url=http://www.london.gov.uk/thelondonplan/caz/central_activities.jsp | title=Central activities zone policies | publisher=Greater London Authority | year=2008 | accessdate=27 May 2014 | author=Mayor of London | work=London Plan | url-status=dead | archive-url=https://web.archive.org/web/20140528030820/http://www.london.gov.uk/thelondonplan/caz/central_activities.jsp | archive-date=28 May 2014 | df=dmy-all }}

[3] A. D. Mills. _A Dictionary of London Place-Names_.

[4]

[5] _London_, David Hughson, 1809

[6] British history online , 'Knightsbridge Green Area: Scotch Corner and the High Road', _Survey of London_: volume 45: Knightsbridge (2000), pp. 79–88

[7] An advertisement from _The Illustrated London News_, 3 January 1885, quoted in McLaughlin, para 10 .

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11] Sold prices in SW7. 3 Montpelier Square Mouseprice.com Retrieved 26-11-2014

[12]

[13] “Sheikh shells out £100m for London's most expensive flat” _The Times_ 28 March 2007. Retrieved 11 June 2007

[14]

[15] Conservation Areas Map. Numbers 22, 23, 36 and 37 City of Westminster. Retrieved 2014-11-26

[16] Property with Swimming Pools: The Deep End Sonia Purnell, _The Sunday Telegraph_, 29 June 2008.

[17] “Settlement and building: From 1865 to 1900”, _A History of the County of Middlesex_: Volume 12: Chelsea (2004), pp. 66–78 . Retrieved 11 June 2007

[18] “Bomb unauthorised says IRA” . _The Guardian_, 19 December 1983

[19]

[20]

[21]

title: Knightsbridge

question: What does the text say about the bridge at Knightsbridge?

answer: Knightsbridge is now a residential and retail district in central London, however the original bride was where an old road to the West crossed the River Westbourne. It may have been a place where knights congregated but in 11th-century London, knights did not have status and were simply "horsemen". It is thought that the bridge may been used by wealthy residents, rather than common folk, and that the area was used as a meeting place for local youths where "knight" was slang for "lad".


text:
HARAMBEE YOUTH EMPLOYMENT ACCELERATOR is a South African nonprofit founded to address the youth unemployment crisis with a model that connects employers to first-time job seekers.

About

Harambee has created an employment network that helps companies hire young, first-time job seekers in South Africa in order to try to find a solution to the South African youth unemployment crisis, where approximately 40% of South Africans 15 to 34 are not employed, in school, or in any kind of training.[1] The organization has developed a mobile-based network that collects job-seekers' details, assesses candidates, offers training, and matches them to employers looking for their skillsets. By signing up for and showing up regularly to classes and training, candidates can demonstrate reliability, and thus employability.[2] The goal is to encourage companies to take a chance on workers with no experience, often from poor households. As of May 2019, Harambee has a network of 500,000 young job seekers and 500 company partners.[3]

Recognition

Harambee has been the recipient of a number of grants and awards, including the Skoll Award for Social Entrepreneurship,[4] a finalist for the 2019 Conscious Companies award[5] and the Global Center for Youth Employment award. It was one of the Aspen Institute's 2015 John P. McNulty prize laureates[6] and also received a $3.5 million grant and recognition from USAID.[7] In 2019, they were voted the 8th most popular brand in South Africa in the “Coolest Campaign Targeted at Youth 2019” category.[8]

History

Harambee was founded in 2011 by Nicola Galombik, who is also the Executive Director at Yellowwoods, a global investment group based in South Africa. The name “Harambee” is Swahili for “we all pull together”.[9] The organization was incubated by Yellowwoods in partnership with the South African Government's National Treasury's Jobs Fund.[10] Maryana Iskander took over as Chief Executive Officer in 2012. According to Iskander, their initial goal was to “scale and place 10,000 people into their first jobs”.[11] In 2015, Harambee made an on-stage commitment at the Clinton Global Initiative to provide unemployed youth in South Africa access to 50,000 jobs and work experiences.[12] As of June 2019, Harambee had connected 100,000 young South Africans to employment.[13]

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[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

title: Harambee Youth Employment Accelerator

question: If there were 5000 South Africans aged 15 to 34, how many of them would be unemployed?

answer: 2000

question: What happens if a student does not show up regularly to class?

answer: Presumably they fail to demonstrae reliability and will have a difficult time finding employment.

question: How might employment for South African youths be different if Harambee didn't exist?

answer: 100,000 young South Africans might still be unemployed.


text:
_SDRUŽENÍ ČESKOSLOVENSKÝCH HORNÍKŮ_ ('Czechoslovak Miners Association', abbreviated SČH) was a Syndicalist mine workers trade union in Czechoslovakia.[1]

The union had its roots in the Free Association of Miners and Ironworkers of Austria.[2] SČH was founded in Northern Bohemia by anarchists and revolutionary socialists.[3] The new union revived the journal _Hornické Listy_ ('Miners' Newspaper'), which had been the organ of the Free Association of Miners and Ironworkers of Austria, as its organ.[4] The prominent anarcho-syndicalist Václav Draxl was the main leader of the new union.[5] The union was not affiliated to any trade union centre.[6][7]

On November 25, 1919 SČH organized a miners' strike, which was repressed by police and army.[8] Many miners were arrested.[9] Whilst initially the revolutionary syndicalists of SČH had operated more or less independently, the union was tied closer to the Czechoslovak Socialist Party as it faced police repression and its members struggled with economic hardship.[10] SČH became increasingly dependent on the Czechoslovak Socialist Party.[11] When Stanislav Kostka Neumann led a split in the Czechoslovak Socialist Party in 1920 and organized the Union of Communist Groups, a minority of SČH members joined him.[12] On December 11-15, 1920 workers across Czechoslovakia organized a general strike in response to the police attack on the _Rudé právo_ newspaper office in Prague. Striking workers were attacked by police forces.[13] Workers in Kladno, including the SČH, declared a 'socialist council republic'.[14]

SČH sided with the Independent Socialist Party (the Bohuslav Vrbenský group) in the 1923 split in the Czechoslovak Socialist Party.[15][16] It was the sole union linked to the Vrbenský tendency.[17] SČH took part in the general strike of miners in Bohemia that lasted from the end of August to early October 1923.[18] Around 1923 the union claimed to have 2,220 members.[19]

SČH was gradually weakened as members of the union joined the communist-led Red Trade Unions.[20] In April 1927 a congress of the union voted on a merger with the communist-led _Mezinárodní všeodborový svaz_ and the Red International of Labour Unions.[21] The congress voted not to merge, but sectors of the union joined the MVS miners section afterwards.[22]

Journalist and writer was a leading member of the union.[23]

[1] Masaryk University. _Sdružení československých horníků - představitelé revolučního syndikalismu_

[2]

[3]

[4] AP Distribuce. _Anarchosyndikalismus v Čechách_

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[9]

[10]

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[23]

title: Sdružení československých horníků

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

question: What does the text say about Sdružení československých horníků?

answer: Sdružení československých horníků or SČH (Czechoslovak Miners Association) was a Syndicalist mine workers trade union in Czechoslovakia. The union had its roots in the Free Association of Miners and Ironworkers of Austria. SČH was founded in Northern Bohemia by anarchists and revolutionary socialists. The prominent anarcho-syndicalist Václav Draxl was the main leader of the new union.

question: What does the text say about the miners' strike of 1919?

answer: On November 25, 1919, SČH organized a miners' strike. It was repressed by the police and army. Many miners were arrested.

question: What does the text say about some of the issues SČH faced during its time?

answer: While the revolutionary syndicalists of SČH had operated more or less independently, the union was tied closely to the Czechoslovak Socialist Party (and became dependent on it) as it faced police repression and its members struggled with economic hardship. As a result, a minority of SČH members joined Stanislav Kostka Neumann when he led a split in the Czechoslovak Socialist Party and organized the Union of Communist Groups. SČH sided with the Independent Socialist Party (the Bohuslav Vrbenský group) when the Czechoslovak Socialist Party split in 1923. SČH was gradually weakened as members of the union joined the communist-led Red Trade Unions.


text:
Despite Seth Meyers’ Golden Globes joke about a 2020 Oprah Winfrey bid for the White House, and the rush of speculation that followed, most Americans said they don’t want to see the actress and television host campaign for president, according to a new poll from the PBS NewsHour, NPR and Marist.

But, if Winfrey were to run against President Donald Trump, half of registered voters would support her, the poll shows.

Speculation about a possible run by Winfrey, 63, the iconic television host, philanthropist and actress who has built a widely popular media empire, erupted Sunday after she delivered an impassioned Golden Globes speech, calling for a world where women “become the leaders who take us to the time when nobody ever has to say ‘Me too’ again.”

[]

Winfrey’s remarks led to instant headlines suggesting she could be the Democratic Party’s best chance at regaining the White House. Winfrey hasn’t definitively said whether she will run for president, though her best friend and CBS This Morning host Gayle King said Winfrey is “intrigued by the idea.”

But does the general population think Winfrey should run for the nation’s highest public office? Not really.

A third of U.S. adults and registered voters alike said Winfrey should run in the 2020 presidential election. But more than half the country — 54 percent — said it wasn’t a good idea. And another 11 percent weren’t sure what Winfrey should do.

Democrats and people who consider themselves politically independent were more likely to say they are impressed with her than Republicans. And women were more likely to praise Winfrey than men.

Lee Miringoff, who directs the Marist Institute for Public Opinion, said that based on these latest polls, the public seems to be saying, “We really like you and would vote for you, but do you really want to do this?”

Like Trump, Winfrey would enter the 2020 race without any prior political experience.

It remains unclear whether people “want another outsider or somebody who knows Washington and can maneuver around the halls of Congress,” said Barbara Carvalho, director of Marist Poll.

When you cut those polling results along political lines, there wasn’t clear consensus on a Winfrey presidential bid. Democrats were split — 47 percent said yes, Winfrey should run, and 40 percent said no. Meanwhile, 77 percent of Republicans rejected the idea of Winfrey’s presidential candidacy. Support among independent voters reflected national figures.

Still, if the 2020 presidential election were held today, with Winfrey as the Democratic nominee and Mr. Trump as the Republican incumbent, 50 percent of U.S voters would choose Winfrey. More than a third of registered voters — 39 percent — said they would back the president, a figure that reflects his November job approval numbers from Marist. And 11 percent of registered voters said they had no idea what they would do.

[]

Two-thirds of U.S. adults said they hold a favorable impression of Winfrey, compared to slightly more than one-third of Americans who reported a good impression of Trump in November.

Sarah Parker, a 70-year-old Democrat from Chesapeake, Virginia, who has voted in every presidential election since she was 18, said Winfrey would better serve the nation as a public citizen than in public office.

Parker, who has five grandsons and keeps a pocket-sized copy of the Constitution in her purse, thinks Winfrey is overqualified. She said while other celebrities have served in the Oval Office, including former actor and President Ronald Reagan, “it’s a plus if they have some political experience or some military experience because you understand how the government works,” Parker said. “[Trump] doesn’t understand it.”

But if Winfrey was nominated by the Democratic Party, Parker, who is African-American, would support her.

If Donna Breckenridge, a lifelong white Republican from Oak Forest, Illinois, were in the ballot box today, said she would vote for Winfrey without any qualms.

In 2016, Breckenridge, 71, burst into tears after she voted for Hillary Clinton, the first time she ever failed to back a Republican. She couldn’t bring herself to vote for Trump, she said. Breckenridge said Winfrey “doesn’t have the experience to run the country,” but said she’d feel confident about her cabinet picks. “She would know best who to choose to help her. I trust her.”

Breckenridge doesn’t feel the same way about Trump, who she says is too “thin-skinned.”

“I’m used to having respect for that office, and I just don’t” under Trump, she said.

If 54-year-old Norm Strickland had to choose today between Winfrey and Trump, he’d vote for the president one more time, but that’s because he doesn’t know enough about the television star, he said.

Strickland, who is white, identifies as politically independent and cast his ballot for Barack Obama in 2008 and Mitt Romney in 2012. He said the tone of political discourse in this country must change. While the commercial real estate appraiser in Mohler, Washington, said he is impressed with Winfrey’s success in business and philanthropy, “a campaign is a necessary function for me to get to know a candidate, and everybody will have to go through that process.”

“Ms. Winfrey has not run for office, so we don’t know her that well,” he said.

_The survey polled 1,350 U.S. adults between Jan. 8 and 10 on mobile and landline phones with a margin of error of 2.7 percent among the general population and 3 percent among 1,092 registered U.S. voters._

question: What was the effect of Winfrey's Golden Globes speech?

answer: The speech leads to headlines suggesting that Winfrey could be the Democratic Party's best chance for regaining the White House.

question: What was the public's opinion on Winfrey running for President?

answer: Democrats and people who considered themselves politically independent were more likely to say that they were impressed by her than the Republicans. And women were also more likely to praise her.

question: What did the public vote say about the elections?

answer: A third of U.S. adults and registered voters said that Winfrey should run for the presidential elections while 54 percent said it was not a good idea.

question: Did Winfrey run for the presidential elections?

answer: This information can't be found in the essay.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer:
Oprah Winfrey's speech at the Golden Globes makes headlines suggesting that she may be the Democratic Party's best chance to regain the White House. Winfrey herself is quite intrigued by the idea, although the general population is not.

A third of registered voters and adults believe that Winfrey should run for the elections while 54 percent believe that it isn't a good idea.

If the elections were held with Winfrey as the Democratic nominee, 50 percent of the voters would have chosen Winfrey, and more than a third of the voters would have backed Trump.


text:
HELMUT MACHEMER (7 May 190318 May 1942) was a German ophthalmologist who served as “Truppenarzt” with the rank of “Unterarzt”, corresponding to the rank of sergeant. He worked with Professor in Münster during the 1930s and, with him, pioneered an electrical treatment for retinal detachment. Machemer suffered discrimination in Nazi Germany after his wife was deemed to be “half-Jewish”. He joined the German army at the outbreak of the Second World War in the hope of winning a first class Iron Cross bravery medal. Machemer hoped this would allow his family to be reclassified as being of “German-blood”. He fought in France and Russia, was wounded in action and won both the Iron Cross 1st Class and Iron Cross 2nd Class. Machemer was killed in action at the Second Battle of Kharkov on 18 May 1942, just four days after being notified of the first class award. His wife and children were granted German-blood status in March 1943. Machemer kept extensive written, photographic and film records of his wartime service and these have been published in a book and documentary film.

Early life and career

Helmut Machemer was born on 7 May 1903 in Sprendlingen and spent much of his early life in Münster.[1] He studied medicine at the Universities of Heidelberg, München and Freiburg. In 1929 in Freiburg, he worked on a doctorate (on amphibian development) under the supervision of Prof. Hans Spemann (later Nobel prize winner) and was promoted Nov. 1929 to Dr. phil. nat. In December 1930, he, in addition, was promoted to Dr. med. at the University of Freiburg. He afterwards worked at an eye clinic in Münster under Professor . Machemer dated Erna Schwalbe, who studied medicine at the university of Kiel, from 1929 and in June 1932 became aware that she might have Jewish ancestry, which may have been an issue due to the rise of the anti-Semitic Nazi Party. Erna's father wrote her a letter which confirmed her mother's ancestry, which he had tried to keep hidden. Erna immediately offered to separate from Machemer, but he refused to do so on the grounds that he loved her. They married in October 1932.[2] Erna's mother divorced her father and moved to the Netherlands the following year, after the Nazis came to power.[3]

Machemer was described by medical historian George Gorin as “a capable retinal surgeon”.[4] In 1934 he pioneered, with Szily, a method of treating retinal detachment by use of an electric current to form a chorioretinal scar.[5] Anti-Semitic discrimination escalated under the Nazis: Szily as a Jew, was forced from his position at the clinic and Machemer lost his job there.[6] Erna was also forced to abandon her own medical studies.[7] Machemer was unable to set up his own practice as the Association of Statutory Health Insurance Physicians refused to grant a permit because of his marriage.[8] The Machemers considered divorce or emigration, but Szily found Helmut a position as assistant to ophthalmologist in Stadtlohn.[9]

The Machemer family (the couple had three sons) moved to Dufkampstrasse, in Stadtlohn in 1935.[10] In October of that year the Nazis passed the Nuremberg Laws, these forbade marriage between those of “German blood” and those of Jewish ancestry.[11] Under the new laws Machemer's wife was classified as “half-Jewish” and the family became subject to ever more stringent restrictions and discrimination.[12] Machemer was not a supporter of the Nazi Party but was also not an opponent of the regime.[13]

Second World War

Machemer was 36 years old when the Second World War began with the German invasion of Poland on 1 September 1939.[14] He was unlikely to be drafted due to his age but volunteered for service on the first day of the war.[15][16] Machemer volunteered in an attempt to make use of a little-known exception in the Nazi racial laws: that the “non-Aryan” family of an Aryan could be classified as being of “German blood”, if the man made a significant contribution to the Nazi state. Machemer became convinced that if he was awarded the Iron Cross, first class for bravery on the battlefield then he could secure the reclassification of his family.[17]

Machemer served during the 1940 invasion of France and the 1941 invasion of Russia, in which he served as an Unterarzt (medical officer aspirant) of the reconnaissance unit of the 16th Panzer Division.[18][19] For his part in the latter operation he was awarded the second class Iron Cross.[20] At one point he worked in a captured Soviet hospital, operating on captured Russian soldiers.[21] Whilst in action Machemer was shot in the neck, but after checking it was not serious, returned to duty treating soldiers who had been shot through the lungs.[22] He noted this in a letter home to his wife and Erna's reply was that he “shouldn't consciously put yourself in danger again, it seems to me like a challenge to fate”.[23] Helmut also wrote to Erna of his concern that he might be withdrawn from the front line and placed in a field hospital where he would be unlikely to be recommended for a bravery award.[24]

Machemer was of the opinion that he would not be recommended for the Iron Cross, first class unless he held the position of medical officer. This promotion had been previously denied to him due to his marriage to Erna. Machemer appealed the decision in March 1942 and, after sending a family tree and confirmation that Erna had no contact with her Jewish relations, was promoted to the rank of Oberarzt and approved for the Iron Cross, first class on 14 May 1942. Machemer records that he celebrated this decision with sparkling wine and, the next day had a hangover.[25]

Machemer was killed at mid-day 18 May, while on a trip to screen the battlefield for wounded soldiers. He was hit in head by shrapnel from a grenade during the Second Battle of Kharkov.[26][27][28] Machemer was travelling in a car at the time, his companion was heavily wounded, but survived.[29] Machemer, who was 39 when he died, recorded in his final diary entry of 18 May that he had slept well and was awaiting orders.[30] In March 1943 Erna and her children were granted “German-blood” status, in what is believed to be the only known case of such an exemption.[31]

Legacy

As a scientist, he wished to document his and his company's way through wartime. His partly critical writings would have been unacceptable for promotion by the Nazi party and may have placed him at risk of arrest and he would not have been able to accomplish his mission. His collection included more than 160 letters, 2,000 photographs and five hours of film footage.[32] Some of the records included depictions of dead German soldiers, dead civilians, burnt houses and dead horses.[33] The majority of Machemer's reports and private letters were sent via “Feldpost” through the postal service.  A few of the documents are known to be lost, since they were numerated. In particular, exposed photos and films, were carried home by comrades.[34]

Machemer's documents were kept by Erna and passed onto the couple's son, Hans.[35] Hans worked with historian to catalogue and assess the material and also produced a documentary film and a book, _Wofür es lohnte, das Leben zu wagen_ (“What it was worth risking life for”) published 2018 in German by Europa Verlag.[36][37] Hardinghaus also produced a novel based on the story (_Ein Held dunkler Zeit_) telling the story of Wilhelm Möckel, a doctor with the 16th Panzer Division, and his wife Annemarie.[38][39]

Erna continued to live in Stadtlohn after the war, until she moved back to Münster in 1962. Erna died in 1970.[40] Besides Hans the other sons were Peter and Robert Machemer (1933–2009), also an ophthalmologist and sometimes called the “father of modern retinal surgery”.[41][42]

Hans Machemer appeared in the BBC documentary “Lost home movies of Nazi Germany” explaining his father's self-sacrifice, through film footage taken by Helmut himself.[43]

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[43] Lost Home Movies of Nazi Germany episode 2

title: Helmut Machemer

question: What does the text say about Machemer's failed surgeries?


text:
Our nightly groupings, our daily musings - these things meant nothing in the presence of the elders. We would come together to frolic, to set ourselves free from our daily woes, but too often the old ones would arrive and cut short our jubilee. They would steal our grog, banish the brave, and force us back into their rigid academic bureaucracy.

After several months, the banishment became too frequent an occurrence. Many who once willingly braved the resentment of the elders now cowered in their cells, waiting to be assigned work. Any attempt at triumph seemed hopeless, and the world of the masses was clouded by all that was mundane. We were trapped.

Until he came.

It was a cool October night, an unsettling chill brushing through the barren branches of the autumn trees. The blue-suited servants of the elders monitored the streets, searching for even the faintest hints of enjoyment to abolish. I sat alone in my cell, much like all the others, trudging away at my daily tasks to no foreseeable end. I grimaced as I moved onto the next piece of work, knowing that no matter how much effort was applied, the old ones would judge harshly and criticize all distinguishable imperfections. My emotions were boiling, and I would likely have exploded from hatred if it weren't for the start I received from the sudden knocking at my doorway.

I glanced once, stared again at my work, and took a second, almost comical take. A knock on a door meant either banishment or mail – and no one in the institution had received a letter since the beginning of our imprisonment.

The knocking stopped as suddenly as it had started, lasting only for a moment. I stepped out of my seat and cautiously approached the door, preparing myself for the worst.

Hands ashake, I grasped the handle and uneasily turned it clockwise. At that time I was positive that I was going to be exhumed. But rather than a towering official notifying me of all that I dreaded, I found my doorway to be vacant, absent of physical matter save for the surrounding atmosphere and a small yellow envelope resting at the bottom. I picked it up with haste and slammed my door aclose.

“Student” it said on the front, with no other words to be seen. Though a trap was likely, I disregarded my instincts and tore off the top with blind anticipation. A lone piece of paper rested within, folded to fit perfectly inside the casing. It read:

“Dear student. Tonight is the night. No more shame, no more cowardice. We will party. - A friend.”

On the back of the note was an address, a directive to an abandoned home that hadn't been occupied for ages and was deemed by the elders to be “unfit for student life”. Emotions ran through my mind in indiscriminate and overwhelming waves, confusion clouding my thoughts as much as excitement. “What?” was the primary question, yet another was “How?” and an equally valid inquiry stood to be “Why?”. I could hear my peers reacting verbally in the cells adjacent to my own. It was clear that many others had also been asked to attend

In a jaded state, my thought fog shrouded most rational oppositions to leaving. Banishment was not a matter, nor was fear of arrest. My curio had long since taken precedence, and the only thing that mattered was to have it pacified. Thus, I walked.

I behaved mannered and casual on my stroll to the gathering, avoiding the gazes of the blue-suits by blending in and hiding my intense anticipation. I could see my peers acting similarly, all walking ordinarily but on the edge of shrouded enthrallment. I felt good, for the first time in months. I sensed that a strong resolve was approaching. Something positive was on its way.

From the moment I turned the corner onto Bronze Street, I was elated, hearing joyous tones that had not been murmured for what seemed like a lifetime. My body began to carry itself towards the sound, my mind adrift in a fantastical trance. “Could this be true?” I thought to myself. “A party amidst such strict elder rule?” But it was.

The house was alive with grog-drenched laughter and the livelihood of socially stimulated youth. My senses told me that I was in heaven, but it was merely a party. The consistent deprivation of genuine enjoyment that I was regularly subjected to made that which stood before me seem all the more otherworldly. It was amazing, at the very least.

The chatter carried on, with friends and individuals expressing themselves as they hadn't done in months. But in spite of this overwhelmingly joyous behavior, a looming question begged at the fringe of my mind – who had put on this extravagant, daring party? Was it the same man who sent the letter? Why had he done it? I had to discover the identity of the savior of our morale. It was an absolute.

Before I could even begin to search for the answers, however, the dreaded flashing cars of the blue-suits were outside the house, their lights droning systemically in the windows and the howl of their sirens tearing through the atmosphere like the chilling scream of a soul reaper. With the blink of my eye came chaos, desperate yells and attempts to escape. No one sought banishment, and no one sought arrest. All sought to be free.

In the midst of the freakout, a bellowing voice reached out from above the home and directed itself towards every blue-suit in sight. “HEYYYYY!”. The students stopped shuffling their feet and stood still, attention now paid to this unexpected act of brazen bravery. I was as bewildered as the rest.

Several elders had gathered around their law-enforcing subservients, directing an all-encompassing gaze of pure accusation at every individual in the home. I shuddered, as did many others, at the chilling vacancy of their stare.

“Step down from the house immediately.” came the megaphone. A lone blue-suit, the captain of the brigade, stood sternly in front of the rest, sound amplifier pointed towards the man atop the house. “You're all under arr...”

“NO!” boomed the man, his tenacity held to a point with every fluctuation of his vocal chords. Both crowds were aghast with awe.

Again the megaphone called “Come down, or we will be forced to...”

“LISTEN TO ME!” he cried. The confidence and surety of his tone were enough to make even his enemies feel proud of him, the man who dared to defy their authority.

“This institution...” he began “was created long ago, by great men and women, for both education and personal growth.” He paused. To me it felt like a presidential commencement address, his voice so absolutely strong that the intensity was palpable. Everyone awaited his continuation.

“Look at it now. What has become of it? What has the bureaucracy done to improve the lives of the most important people – the youth?” This question seemed to unsettle the elders. One spoke in direct response “This college was designed for one purpose, and one purpose only – to learn. Personal fulfillment has no place in our...” his justification was cut short by an angered collective crowd bellow, myself participating. Several students moved to the forefront, with two blue-suits repositioning in response. The tension in the atmosphere was rising, I could feel it.

“In your what?” yelled the man. “Your twisted, emotionless, money-seeking hearts? Do you have any idea how much these kids – your students – have been suffering?” He flicked his eyes to the blue-suits. “Have you never bothered to question the morality of what you're doing here?” They were begrudgingly attentive, and I saw one bow his head in what could only have been shame. “It's a police state, nothing less.” said the man. A few cries of agreement could be heard.

The elder who had spoken was scowling, his lips trembling with privileged disgust and hatred. He was prepared to speak when the voice of the savior student crushed his looming interjection attempt, raining down upon our ears like a shower of liberative truth. “Bros, lads, and all collegiates.” Our attention was undivided, with every ounce of focus directed towards the speaker. “I brought you all here not just to frolic and to relax. Beer and friends are here, yes, but that is not the driving intention behind this gathering.” Brief murmurs of discussion swept through the crowd. “I brought you here to remind you of what it feels like.” He paused for a moment, then continued “What it feels like... to be free.” By this time, tears were copiously falling from my face, my conscious mind an overwhelmed trench of emotionally charged memories. Memories of freedom, memories of friends. Memories from so very long ago. I was bawling.

“Do not weep, my brothers, my sisters. This unjust cruelty ends now. It ends tonight!” The eagerness was dripping from his vocal productions like the salted tears of the woeful student body. We were ready, we were sure. It was time.

I screamed to the absolute limit of my vocal muscles, the resultant screech barely adding to the chorus of liberated student minds. In perfect synchronization, we all cried “Yes!!!” The time had come to shine, to take back the college that was rightfully ours.

Boredom and resentment vanished in the place of excitement and friendship, and the party that night marked an epiphany in university life. The blue-suits were awakened by the speech of the elusive roof man. They arrested all elders and old ones in the college town for unjust treatment of youth and countless robberies of grog. New, more considerate “profs” took their place, minds set on youthful engagement and societal advancements rather than personal monetary greed. Before many were even aware, the institution had transformed.

The only trace the man left of his identity was a brim-filled keg of premium draft beer, addressed to all the students of the college (myself included). Because of this, he garnered the moniker “Keg Bro”. It suited him, I thought, in both content and ambiguity.

(continued in comments)

title: Keg Bro Arrives

question: What is the stance of the elders in the story regarding how the youth behaves?

answer: They seem to be extremely strict and utilitarian, consigning the younger members of the society into working without any time for relaxation or fun. However, not everyone is like this. There are some who seem to be aware of how they are mistreating the youth, and by the end, the youth reclaim their recreational free time with the consent and help of adults.

question: What does the story suggest as the best way to distribute beer at parties?

question: What is the main conflict in the story?

answer: The main conflict is the clash between the elders and university youth over the excessively strict, utilitarian lifestyle imposed on the youth. The students want to party, or at least gather together to have fun. The elders don't allow this, forcing them to spend time on work and work only.

question: Summarize Keg Bro's argument.

answer: He points out that the institution (the university) was created for education and personal growth. Bureaucracy, however, completely stifled the personal growth aspect. He further comments that the elders are greedy and emotionless, ignoring the daily suffering of the youth. He organizes the party to remind the students how being free feels.


text:
A suicide car bomb exploded in Kabul, Afghanistan, on the morning of 13 November 2019. It killed 13 people, including the attacker, and injured another 20.[1]

Background

The year of 2019 has been the most violent year for the city of Kabul, with multiple bombings in the city. The most deadly being on 1 July and 17 August. The Taliban claimed responsibility for the first and the Islamic State for the second.[2][3]

Bombing

On 13 November, a vehicle filled with explosives detonated during morning rush hour, targeting a convoy of private Canadian security company GardaWorld. 13 people, including the attacker and three children, were killed. 20 others, including four foreign nationals (which has not been confirmed yet), were injured.[4][5]

[1]

[2]

[3]

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title: November 2019 Kabul bombing

question: How many people were killed by the car bomb?

answer: 13 people were killed by the car bomb.

question: Where did the car bombing take place?

answer: The car bombing took place in Kabul, Afghanistan.

question: Who were the the targets of the car bomb?

answer: A convoy of private Canadian security company GardaWorld was the target of the car bomb.

question: What has been the most violent year for Kabul?

answer: 2019 has been the most violent year for Kabul.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: A car bombing took place on November 13th, 2019 in Kabul, Afghanistan. 13 people were killed and 20 others were injured. This is just the most recent in a string of bombings in Kabul.


text:
COCHRAN COUNTY is a county located in the U.S. state of Texas. As of the 2010 census, its population was 3,127.[1] The county seat is Morton.[2] The county was created in 1876 and later organized in 1924.[3] It is named for Robert E. Cochran, a defender of the Alamo.[4]

Geography

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, the county has a total area of , of which are land and (0.01%) is covered by water.[5] Cochran County lies on the high plains of the Llano Estacado. The western border of the county lies along the border of Texas and New Mexico.

Major highways

-   [] State Highway 114
-   [] State Highway 125
-   [] State Highway 214

Adjacent counties

-   Bailey County (north)
-   Hockley County (east)
-   Yoakum County (south)
-   Lea County, New Mexico (southwest/Mountain Time Zone)
-   Roosevelt County, New Mexico (northwest/Mountain Time Zone)

Demographics

As of the census[6] of 2000, there were 3,730 people, 1,309 households, and 1,017 families living in the county. The population density was 5 people per square mile (2/km²). There were 1,587 housing units at an average density of 2 per square mile (1/km²). The racial makeup of the county was 64.48% White, 4.53% Black or African American, 0.83% Native American, 0.21% Asian, 0.05% Pacific Islander, 27.35% from other races, and 2.55% from two or more races. 44.13% of the population were Hispanic or Latino of any race.

There were 1,309 households, out of which 38.10% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 63.80% were married couples living together, 9.90% had a female householder with no husband present, and 22.30% were non-families. 20.90% of all households were made up of individuals, and 11.10% had someone living alone who was 65 years of age or older. The average household size was 2.79 and the average family size was 3.25.

In the county, the population was spread out, with 31.50% under the age of 18, 8.00% from 18 to 24, 24.90% from 25 to 44, 21.20% from 45 to 64, and 14.40% who were 65 years of age or older. The median age was 35 years. For every 100 females there were 92.10 males. For every 100 females age 18 and over, there were 93.30 males.

The median income for a household in the county was $27,525, and the median income for a family was $31,163. Males had a median income of $25,064 versus $17,652 for females. The per capita income for the county was $13,125. About 21.40% of families and 27.00% of the population were below the poverty line, including 37.20% of those under age 18 and 11.70% of those age 65 or over.

Communities

City

-   Morton (county seat)

Town

-   Whiteface

Unincorporated community

-   Bledsoe

Politics

  Year                               Republican                                  Democratic                                  Third parties
  ---------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- ----------------------------
  style=“text-align:center;” |2016   style=“text-align:center;” |75.4% _679_     style=“text-align:center;” |21.1% _190_     3.6% _32_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2012   style=“text-align:center;” |70.8% _649_     style=“text-align:center;” |27.9% _256_     1.3% _12_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2008   style=“text-align:center;” |71.7% _758_     style=“text-align:center;” |26.9% _284_     1.4% _15_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2004   style=“text-align:center;” |77.1% _856_     style=“text-align:center;” |22.4% _249_     0.5% _5_
  style=“text-align:center;” |2000   style=“text-align:center;” |68.9% _807_     style=“text-align:center;” |29.4% _344_     1.7% _20_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1996   style=“text-align:center;” |49.9% _667_     style=“text-align:center;” |40.5% _541_     9.6% _128_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1992   style=“text-align:center;” |51.3% _750_     style=“text-align:center;” |31.1% _454_     17.6% _257_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1988   style=“text-align:center;” |52.7% _771_     style=“text-align:center;” |46.6% _681_     0.7% _10_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1984   style=“text-align:center;” |66.1% _1,117_   style=“text-align:center;” |33.0% _557_     0.9% _15_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1980   style=“text-align:center;” |66.2% _1,064_   style=“text-align:center;” |31.9% _513_     1.9% _30_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1976   style=“text-align:center;” |40.3% _701_     style=“text-align:center;” |59.3% _1,031_   0.4% _7_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1972   style=“text-align:center;” |72.0% _1,106_   style=“text-align:center;” |27.0% _415_     1.0% _15_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1968   style=“text-align:center;” |33.6% _548_     style=“text-align:center;” |38.8% _633_     27.6% _449_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1964   style=“text-align:center;” |28.2% _497_     style=“text-align:center;” |71.6% _1,260_   0.2% _4_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1960   style=“text-align:center;” |38.6% _646_     style=“text-align:center;” |61.4% _1,028_   style="text-align:center;|
  style=“text-align:center;” |1956   style=“text-align:center;” |39.3% _599_     style=“text-align:center;” |60.6% _923_     0.1% _1_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1952   style=“text-align:center;” |46.1% _780_     style=“text-align:center;” |53.5% _906_     0.4% _7_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1948   style=“text-align:center;” |10.0% _119_     style=“text-align:center;” |81.9% _971_     8.1% _96_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1944   style=“text-align:center;” |12.3% _123_     style=“text-align:center;” |71.6% _716_     16.1% _161_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1940   style=“text-align:center;” |13.7% _122_     style=“text-align:center;” |85.9% _765_     0.5% _4_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1936   style=“text-align:center;” |7.7% _58_       style=“text-align:center;” |91.2% _683_     1.1% _8_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1932   style=“text-align:center;” |8.0% _31_       style=“text-align:center;” |88.9% _345_     3.1% _12_
  style=“text-align:center;” |1928   style=“text-align:center;” |64.4% _197_     style=“text-align:center;” |35.6% _109_     style="text-align:center;|
  style=“text-align:center;” |1924   style=“text-align:center;” |12.5% _9_       style=“text-align:center;” |81.9% _59_      5.6% _4_

  : PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS RESULTS[7]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4] Local Option Elections, TABC

[5]

[6]

[7]

title: Cochran County, Texas

question: What does the text say about households?

answer: In Cochran County, there are 1,309 households. In those households, 38.1% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 63.8% were married couples, 9.9% had a female householder with no husband present, and 22.3% were non-families. 20.9% of all households were made up of individuals, and 11.1% had someone living alone who was 65 years of age. The average household size was 2.79. The median income for a household was $27,525.

question: What does the text say about geography?

answer: Cochran county only has a total of 0.01% of its land covered by water. It lies on the high plains of the Llano Estacado and its western border lies along the border of Texas and New Mexico.

question: What does the text say about Ted Cruz?