text:
IDENTIFICATION is a psychological process whereby the individual assimilates an aspect, property, or attribute of the other and is transformed wholly or partially by the model that other provides. It is by means of a series of identifications that the personality is constituted and specified. The roots of the concept can be found in Freud's writings. The three most prominent concepts of identification as described by Freud are: primary identification, narcissistic (secondary) identification and partial (secondary) identification.[1]

While “in the psychoanalytic literature there is agreement that the core meaning of identification is simple – to be like or to become like another”, it has also been adjudged '“the most perplexing clinical/theoretical area” in psychoanalysis'.[2]

Freud

Freud first raised the matter of identification () in 1897, in connection with the illness or death of one's parents, and the response “to punish oneself in a hysterical fashion...with the same states [of illness] that they have had. The identification which occurs here is, as we can see, nothing other than a mode of thinking”.[3] The question was taken up again psychoanalytically “in Ferenczi's article, 'Introjection and Transference', dating from 1909”,[4] but it was in the decade between “On Narcissism” (1914) and “The Ego and the Id” (1923) that Freud made his most detailed and intensive study of the concept.

Freud distinguished three main kinds of identification. “First, identification is the original form of emotional tie with an object; secondly, in a regressive way it becomes a substitute for a libidinal object-tie...and thirdly, it may arise with any new perception of a common quality which is shared with some other person”.[5]

Primary identification

Primary identification is the original and primitive form of emotional attachment to something or someone prior to any relations with other persons or objects:[6] “an individual's first and most important identification, his identification with the father in his own personal prehistory...with the parents”.[7] This means that when a baby is born he is not capable of making a distinction between himself and important others. The baby has an emotional attachment with his parents and experiences his parents as a part of himself. “The breast is part of me, I am the breast”.

During this process of identification children adopt unconsciously the characteristics of their parents and begin to associate themselves with and copy the behavior of their parents. Freud remarked that identification should be distinguished from imitation, which is a voluntary and conscious act. Because of this process of emotional attachment a child will develop a (super)ego that has similarities to the moral values and guidelines by which the parents live their lives. By this process children become a great deal like their parents and this facilitates learning to live in the world and culture to which they are born.[8]

“By and large, psychoanalysts grant the importance and centrality of primary identification, even though...the concept varies 'according to each author and his ideas, its meaning in consequence being far from precise' (Etchegoyen 1985)”.[9]

Narcissistic (secondary) identification

Narcissistic identification is the form of identification following abandonment or loss of an object. This experience of loss starts at a very young age.[10] An example: wearing the clothes or jewellery of a deceased loved one.[11] In “Mourning and Melancholia” Freud, having “shown that identification is a preliminary stage of object-choice”, argued that the experience of loss sets in motion a regressive process that “served to establish an _identification_ of the ego with the abandoned object”.[12] In “The Ego and the Id”, he went on to maintain that “this kind of substitution has a great share in determining the form taken by the ego and that it makes an essential contribution towards building up what is called its 'character'”.[13]

Lacan, in his theory of the Imaginary, would develop the latter point into his view of “the ego is constituted in its nucleus by a series of alienating identifications”[14] - part of his opposition to any concept of an “autonomous” and conflict-free ego.

Partial (secondary) identification

Partial identification is based on the perception of a special quality of another person.[15] This quality or ideal is often represented in a “leader figure” who is identified with. For example: the young boy identifies with the strong muscles of an older neighbour boy. Next to identification with the leader, people identify with others because they feel they have something in common. For example: a group of people who like the same music. This mechanism plays an important role in the formation of groups. It contributes to the development of character and the ego is formed by identification with a group (group norms). Partial identification promotes the social life of persons who will be able to identify with one another through this common bond to one another, instead of considering someone as a rival.[16]

Partial identification and empathy

Freud went on to indicate the way “a path leads from identification by way of imitation to empathy, that is, to the comprehension of the mechanism by which we are enabled to take up any attitude at all towards another mental life”.[17] Otto Fenichel would go on to emphasize how “trial identifications for the purposes of empathy play a basic part in normal object relationships. They can be studied especially in analyzing the psychoanalyst's ways of working”.[18] Object relations theory would subsequently highlight the use of “_trial identification with the patient in the session_”[19] as part of the growing technique of analysing from the countertransference.

Anna Freud and identification with the aggressor

In her classic book _The Ego and the Mechanism of Defence_, Anna Freud introduced “two original defence mechanisms...both of which have become classics of ego psychology”,[20] the one being altruistic surrender, the other identification with the aggressor. Anna Freud pointed out that identification with parental values was a normal part of the development of the superego; but that “if the child introjects both rebuke and punishment and then regularly projects this same punishment on another, 'then he is arrested at an intermediate stage in the development of the superego'”.[21]

The concept was also taken up in object relations theory, which particularly explored “how a patient sometimes places the analyst in the role of victim whilst the patient acts out an identification with the aggressor”[22] in the analytic situation.

With the analyst

Mainstream analytic thought broadly agrees that interpretation took effect “by utilizing positive transference and transitory identifications with the analyst”.[23] More controversial, however, was the concept of “the terminal identification” at the close of analysis, where “that with which the patient identifies is their strong ego...[or] identification with the analyst's superego”.[24]

Lacan took strong exception to “any analysis that one teaches as having to be terminated by identification with the analyst...There is a beyond to this identification...this crossing of the plane of identification”.[25] Most Lacanians have subsequently echoed his distrust of “the view of psychoanalysis that relies on identification with the analyst as a central curative factor”.[26] How far the same criticism applies, however, to those who see as a positive therapeutic result “the development of a self-analytic attitude...[built on] identification with and internalization of the analyst's analytic attitude”[27] is not perhaps quite clear.

Marion Milner has argued that “terminal identification” can be most acute in those analysands who go on to become therapists themselves: “by the mere fact of becoming analysts we have succeeded in bypassing an experience which our patients have to go through. We have chosen to identify with our analyst's profession and to act out that identification”.[28]

In psychoanalytic thinking today

Much has been written on identification since Freud. Identification has been seen both as a normal developmental mechanism and as a mechanism of defence.[29] Many types of identification have been described by other psychoanalysts, including counter-identification (Fliess,1953),[30] pseudoidentification (Eidelberg, 1938),[31] concordant and complementary identifications (Racker, 1957),[32] and adhesive identification (Bick, 1968):[33] “the work of Bick and others on adhesive identification, exploring the concept of the 'psychic skin'”.[34]

[1] Laplanche, J. and Pontalis, J.-B. (1973), The language of psychoanalysis. The Hogarth Press.

[2] Malcolm Macmillan, _Freud Evaluated_ (1997) p. 496 (quoting Rangell)

[3] Freud, quoted by Angela Richards “Editor's Note”, _On Metapsychology_ (Penguin Freud Library 11, 1987) p. 248

[4] Jacques Lacan, _Écrits: A Selection_ (London 1997) p. 250

[5] “Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego”, in Sigmund Freud, _civilisation, Society and Religion_ (Penguin Freud Library 12) p. 137

[6] W.W. Meissner, 1970. Notes on Identification I. Origins in Freud, _Psychoanalytic Quarterly_, 39, 563-589.

[7] “The Ego and the Id”, _Metapsychology_ p. 370

[8] http://www.answers.com/topic/identification (5 May 2007)

[9] Macmillan, p. 497

[10]

[11] Hart, H. H. (1947), Problems of Identification. Psychiatric Quarterly, 21, 274-293.

[12] _Metapsychology_ p. 258

[13] _Metapsychology_ p. 368

[14] Jacques Lacan, _Écrits_ (London 1996) p. 128

[15]

[16]

[17] _Civilization_ p. 140n

[18] Otto Fenichel, _The Psychoanalytic Theory of Neurosis_ (London 1946) p. 511

[19] Patrick Casement, _Further Learning from the Patient_ (London 1996) p. 138

[20] Lisa Appignanesi/John Forrester, _Freud's Women_ ( London 1993) p. 294

[21] Appignanesi, p. 294

[22] Patrick Casement, _Further learning from the patient_ (london 1996) p. 8

[23] Otto Fenichel, _The Psychoanalytic Theory of Neurosis_ (London 1946) p. 570

[24] Lacan, _Écrits_ p. 274 and p. 246

[25] Jacques Lacan, _The Four Fundamental Concepts of Psychoanalysis_ (London 1994) p. 271-3

[26] John P. Muller, _Beyond the Psychoanalytic Dyad_ (1996) p. 130

[27] Alan S. Gurman, _Essential Psychotherapies_ (2003) p. 47

[28] Quoted in Janet Malcolm, _Psychoanalysis: The Impossible Profession_ (London 1988) p. 155

[29]

[30]

[31]

[32]

[33]

[34] Judith Mitrani and Joyce McDougall, _A Framework for the Imaginary_ (London 2008) p. 152

title: Identification (psychology)

question: Summarize what the text says about primary identification.

answer: Primary identification is the original form of emotional attachment to something or someone prior to any association with them. Children's first identification is with their parents. During this process, they adopt the characteristics of their parents unconsciously. Freud states that this identification is different from imitation, which is a voluntary and conscious act. This identification leads to children developing a superego that has similarities to the moral values their parents live by. This process leads to a child becoming a lot like their parents.

question: What is partial identification?

answer: Partial identification helps in the formation of groups. It is based on the perception of a special quality of another person. For example, a young boy may identify with an older muscular neighbor. This identification promotes the social life of people who can identify with one another through a common bond.


split: test

text:
No More Than Four

Charlie Sacks was as sick as they come. He had taken to bed nearly three days ago and didn't say a word about it. The housemaid Martha waited on him hour to hour, pleasing him with an assortment of soups and teas. He took it presently and surprisingly enough, never did he miss a meal. While his stomach may have been in good order, the ailment seemed to lie in his nasal cavity. The man suffered from a clogged nasal chimney, due to a snot and spit build up, resulting in a whooping fever! Charlie, as a sturdy grown man, knew the only true remedy was a pampering spa and a warm bed. Martha had prepared a bath and Mr. Sacks found comfort in its bubbly waters. From the womb to the sack he did leap. Leaving the bath only to flounder back into bed. The fluffed feathers of his nest proved the greatest comforter, for it was in it's billows he could delve into the latest issue of StarExplorer in peace.

Alas, here is where I found him. A boy in his castle. With three loud knocks on their oakwood door, I made my presence known. Martha greeted me as I leaned against my wooden cane.

"Evening sir, mighty dark and rainy out there, what can I do for you?"

"I be but a humble traveller mum, on the eternal road, I come to beg you for bread."

"From where do you come, Traveller?"

"From the land beyond our own! Past the light and through the stone! In the forest, birds have flown, into the greatest deep unknown!"

"Where is that exactly?"

"Delaware, ma'am"

"Please step into the light, so I may gaze your face."

Indeed I followed her request and exposed myself to her. Every griping part of me. She no doubt reacted to my lame eye. The haggard mess of scarred skin will cause a double glance from anyone. I stood there, with the porch light bouncing off my darkened cloak, giving the softest exposure to my grey locks and twisted jaw. I knew I was something she had never seen before.

"Well, no sense having you out there, I invite you in for warmth and bread. Shall we?"

"Thank you, Ma'am"

"Dearie, call me Martha"

"Certainly"

At once, she invited me into the library, where I sat by the fire and indulged a few lines from a StarExplorer magazine. She was off into the kitchen to prepare me some bread and a bowl of something or other. The library was dark and civil. I admired the eclectic collection of novels and memoirs, as well as the embroidered chair in which I was placed. The leather had taken the shape of my body and I felt for a moment a grace of rest.

"You're meal, sir"

"Remarkable, Martha, you were able to put all that together in the short time I was here?"

"No sir, I happen to be mending another weary soul."

"There is another in this house?"

"Yes, the owner of the estate, Master Charlie Sacks."

"Whatever is wrong with the poor devil?"

"Doctor says it's a nasal buildup, sounds awful, like a dying rodent at times"

"Martha, would I be able to speak with Master Sacks? I feel I have a remedy in my possession that he would find most intriguing."

Three flights of stairs we took, all winding and weaving through the museum of his halls. From floor to floor, the walls displayed paintings from eras I had yet to see. I felt compelled to ask what Martha made of it.

"Paintings", I remarked.

"Oh yes, the Master collects. He has gone all over the world to find these paintings. Some he had to risk life and limb for. The floor below us holds the ones with pretty ships in them. Ships at port saying goodbye to the folk waving on the dock. Ships battling the raging squalls of the open sea. Ships a plenty. The floor we're on now will have your bones shivering."

"Ma,am?"

"This is his gothic collection. Everyone from Dorian Grey to The Oval Portrait hangs here. Let's just say we scurry past this part. Shall we?"

I could see her distress. For most of the men and women that hung here were depicted in death. My good eye gazed on scenes of immurement, bloodied ruins of genocide and twisted feasts of cannibalism. I shuddered as I glimpsed a familiar face burning in the fires of a witch hunt.

The last floor presented a welcomed change in the form of landscapes. As we crossed the hall to Sacks bedroom, I was treated to views of mountain ranges and auburn fields of apples.

Martha gently opened the door and announced us to the figure laying in bed.

"Master Sacks, we have Mr…"

"Crypt, Ernie Crypt. Master Sacks, I've come seeking shelter from the storm. As it turns out I found a little bit more. I heard of your ailment and I have a remedy that can promise you better. A rare chance for me to pay back such a hospitable welcome."

The silence made me wonder if he was resting eternally. At last he spoke, "Bring it to me and leave it on my nightstand."

With a nod to Martha I lurched over to his bedside and from my cloak retrieved a sack of cherry tomatoes.

"These are picked from a place I doubt even you've been, Mister Sacks. Please I will leave the bag here, but I warn you, only four tomatoes shall you eat before sunrise. Any more, will have you. Indeed, save them for tomorrows light."

"Tomatoes? Is this a folly?"

"None, sir, trust me. You will be surprised by natures touch."

"Very well then, be gone with you."

As I exited to the hallway, I left him with four words of remembrance.

"No more than four".

Martha allowed me to finish my meal and then filled my canteen with water, gave me a dry towel and then saw me on my way. I was eager to go, not because I held distaste for Martha's company, but because I knew sunrise would be here in a matter of hours and I wanted a good distance behind me when it came.

Within an hour, Master Sacks gave in to my gesture. Two tomatoes he took at first reach. He was surprised to find that he was soon sitting up and stretching his arms to and fro. He thought better then to over do it, so he settled back in with his magazine. A few more hours past and still the nagging taste of a tomato sat on his tongue. He had never tasted one so rich and rationed that he would still be under his four tomato limit. He settled that he deserved one more at least. The third one was in his mouth in a flash and the result was so tremendous that he threw the covers onto the floor and wreathed around his bedsheets stretching and yawning. The slumber was fading behind him and he soon felt fit to stand up. Yet something stayed him. He was thinking of his knowledge of medicine.

"My doctor always said, finish the bottle or it won't work." He reasoned quietly.

By the time he was chewing his fourth tomato, Sacks was walking down the hall to fetch a cup of milk.

"Heavens, sir, a change of winds?" Martha gasped as Sacks entered the kitchen.

"Martha it seems our weary traveller spoke truth. Those tomatoes did a wonder on my senses. I feel fit enough to read in the dignity of my own library. First, I shall like a glass of milk."

"Certainly, sir, I'll bring it right in."

Master Sack's toes wiggled around the fire heat as he sunk into his chair. A few adjustments were made until he felt the familiar shape again. Martha came in and left a tall glass of milk on the table beside him. She left him to read StarExplorer. A wonderful serial involving flying machines in space and men with laser guns finding lost princesses. The adventure had pulled him in for nearly an hour when he was distracted to see, inside the pocket of his house coat, the sack of tomatoes.

"A wonder." he thought.

As he continued to read, he thumbed the ripe, round tomatoes almost unaware of his habit. It took only a few minutes before another tomato was out of the sack and into his mouth. Half expecting to feel superhuman, Sacks was distraught to find that a cold chill instantly cascaded through his bones. The impact caused him to drop his magazine onto the floor. As he reached down to pick it up, a searing pain shot through his lower back. He tried to scream, but only gasped, for his breath was failing him. Sweat was accumulating and as he wiped his brow he felt only wrinkles of elderly skin. He willed himself a sip of milk. When he lay the glass back on the table he saw a line of red smearing down the side of the glass. Could his mouth be bleeding? He flustered over to the mirror to inspect. Yet the startling sight of his ghost and the ripe taste of tomato stopped him. A vision of auburn apple fields and infinite galaxies filled his eyes. Master Sacks fell to the floor. The old boy was dead.

No doubt Martha discovered him within the hour. Her shriek would be heard by no one. For the estate stands miles from anyone wishing to hear. No doubt she would take to the door to look for the strange traveller who had seemingly betrayed them. Yet she would not find him, only a discarded cane. For a cane is used by lame eyed old gypsies, not those who ride with fresh eyes into the eternal sunrise.

end.

title: No More Than More

question: Summarize how Master Charlie Sacks died.

answer: Charlie Sacks was ill and confined to bed. He had nasal congestion so the housemaid (Martha) confined him to bed. While in bed, he read the latest issue of StarExplorer. Meanwhile, a stranger (Ernie Crypt)knocked at Charlie Sacks' door begging for shelter. Martha let him in and gave him some bread and something else to eat it with. Ernie Crypt marveled at the speed at which she prepared his meal. Martha confessed that she is nursing the master of the house. Ernie asked about the nature of the illness and when Martha told him, was happy to provide a remedy. Ernie gave Martha a bag of tomatoes and told her to administer four tomatoes to Sacks before sunrise. Sacks ate two of the tomatoes and began to feel well. However, he continued to eat the tomatoes, going beyond the four that were prescribed. This error would lead to his discomfort and subsequently his death.

question: Where was the traveler going?


text:
It was the middle of the night and I thought it was a good idea after the eighth bottle of whiskey. A few of my friends were over, seven to be exact. We all were boozing for quite some time when one of my good friends shouted in the way an overly excited drunk would shout “Lets play some Russian Roulette.” this suggestion was when I was on my third bottle of whiskey and it was just touching 10′ o clock. I was tipsy but I had my wits about me and told him to simmer down or what a decent drunk would say “Shut the fuck up.” to such an atrocious idea like that. He sat down and drank deeply from his glass, looking up at me he said “I am sorry, I guess I am just a little drunk.” giving me a weak smile. I smiled back at him. The usual drunken talks came alive after this incident and the discussion was upon death. “Death is the final frontier.” said one of my friends. “Death is the end. We must live life to the fullest.” said another. Yet another said, “Death is the end of one life and the start of another.” “Death is the journey to the after life.” “Death is the end.” “Death is the start.” So many opinions but only one common link. It was a grim idea. I was on my fifth bottle of whiskey when I gave my opinion. “Death is a sad thing.” There was silence for a minute and each of my friends looked up at me, concern clearly written on their faces. I smiled at them and slowly stood up, my legs were a little shaky but I stood my ground. I raised my glass and looked at each of them “Death is a sad thing. Not for the one who died but for the one who was left to mourn. All of you have lost someone, near and dear to you. To you I raise you my glass. They are in a better place and you will soon be with them too.”

I smiled and gulped down my drink. All of their faces were ashen and I started laughing. “Not right now, calm down.” their laugh seemed forced. The drinking continued. I walked towards my old record player and looked down at it. I pulled out an old vinyl, one of my favorites. “Astrud Gilberto – Light my fire.” I fired up the record player and the sound of her voice filled the room. It shook the glasses on the showcase as though they too were enjoying the rhythm of her voice. The room was filled with the smell of booze, laughter and Astruds beautiful voice. The alcohol must have been getting to me because the room started to spin and the color strangely started becoming golden. I couldn’t hear the sounds. I sat down on my chair and started to drink. I couldn’t hear the ice clinking on my glass, I couldn’t hear the sound of the whiskey being poured, I couldn’t hear the drunken laughs of my friends. I started to get angry and drank even more. I saw the smiles on my friends faces and I felt a white hot anger come over me. I stood up and threw my glass at the wall. The shattering of the glass followed by me shouting “What are you all fucking laughing at!”

I couldn’t even hear that. I knew what I said but my voice was not audible to me. I fell back into my chair and saw the faces of my friends, unsmiling. It was 11:30. I walked to the kitchen and picked up another glass and sat back down. I poured myself a drink. I was on my seventh bottle. I knew this happened before, this was not the first time. I remembered a time when I did this, it was a  year ago. My little darling, Sarah, she was only seven. She was wearing that pretty frock I got her for her birthday and that tiara, she was pretending to be a princess. She always smiled at everyone and everything. Such a sweet and innocent girl. Why did I have to fight with her mother that day? Why? Why did I have to drink? Why? Why did I get angry? Why? Why did my little girl have to die? Why? Why did she have to die by my hands? Why?WHY?WHY?WHY?

My mind started to spiral down into this chasm. It was dark and scary. I was alone. My wife called me a murderer. I wasn’t, I wasn’t a killer. I would never hurt little Sarah. She kept screaming at me, she kept calling me a murderer. I wasn’t a murderer. I was just drunk. The tears started to roll down my face, I missed my daughter the most today. It was 11:55. I was on my eight bottle now. I smiled. In another 5 minutes it would be my daughters birthday. 7/7/1998. That was her birthday. See, I still remember. I am a good father. I was also a good husband but then she left me. Sarah’s mother. What was her name again?

It was 11:58.

I rose from my chair and almost fell down. I didn’t realize that I had a lot to drink. I looked at my friends and told them “My mates, my friends. We have gone through a lot together. We have got each others backs. We have seen the best years of our lives as well as the worst years of our lives. As you all know I have recently lost my beloved little girl, Sarah. I miss her terribly. Her mother on the other hand, can go fuck herself. She probably is at this point…” I laughed. My friends did not.

“Anyway, one of you had said that you would like to play Russian Roulette. Right now it seems like a good idea. So, lets do it.” I walked to my bedroom door and went over to my study. I pulled a drawer and got out two guns. I looked for my ammunition box and took that along with me as well. I stood in the center of the room and loaded the guns. They were magnum revolvers with a container that could hold seven bullets. I loaded one completely and the other with one bullet. I spun the chamber. I looked at my friends and said “Now, all of you sit in a circle.” They obliged. I smirked and thought to myself “Everyone listens to a guy with a gun.”

“I have a fully loaded gun here with me and I will give you this gun.” I said as I motioned to the revolver with only one bullet. “You each will spin the chamber and try to shoot me. If you don’t, I shoot you. If I die, you all will win. If you all die, then I win.” None of them spoke but their eyes betrayed them. They were fearful. What cowards I thought. I gave the revolver to the person to my right. For the life of me I couldn’t remember his name. I pointed my gun at him and said “Start.” He spun the chamber and cocked the gun, his hands started to shake as he pointed his gun at me. He pulled the trigger. It was empty.

“Ahh too bad. Pass the gun along.” I couldn’t remember the next persons name either. I kept my gun pointed at him and said “Go on.” He too spun the chamber. He started to point the gun at me but then put it down. “You are being insane…” I shot him. The blood was everywhere and all I said was “Next.” None of them moved for the gun. They really must not want to win. I shot the first guy. His body too hit the floor. The blood intertwined with the other. I looked at this colorful picture for a second and felt a sudden pang of guilt followed by a maniacal pleasure. Am I killer?

“Next.”

They all scrambled for the gun this time. The guy with the blue shirt took it. He spun the chamber and pointed the gun at me. He pulled the trigger. It was empty. I shot him. My friends started to freak out. “A change of rules. if you don’t kill me you die.” I pointed my gun at the guy with the ponytail hair. “Your turn.” He took the gun, the tears were streaming down his face, it was pathetic. “Get on with it.” He pointed the gun. It was empty too. *bang* another one bites the dust. I started to laugh a little and pointed my gun to the next guy. “Only four of you left. You guys don’t want to win do you?” He took the gun and spun the chamber. Suddenly the guy on my left got up and went for the door. He didn’t get far. I shook my head and said “Why does he always cheat? cheating isn’t fun.” I look back and motioned him to continue the game. He wasn’t lucky either.

Now there were only two of my good old buddies left. “I really have to say that this is the most fun I have had in a long time. You guys are losing but that’s all part of the game. Still, a chance exists. Give it a shot.” I started to laugh hysterically. This guy had the bluest eyes I knew, but now it was stained with red. ‘Probably because of the drinking’ thought I. He spun the chamber and pointed the gun at me. It was empty. I shot and the wonderful blood red color started to flow.

Now it was down to my last friend. “You are the only hope. You have one bullet and so do I. Why not make it fun and lets both spin the chamber? Yes, that would be a good idea.” I spun the chamber and pointed the gun at him, smiling that stupid grin. He too did the same, not smiling though. “On the count of three.” “One…” His hands started to shake, mine were rock steady. “Two..” Sweat was pouring out of him, I was calm and steady. “Three…” The last thing I remembered was the sound of a gunshot and then darkness. I did not feel pain, I actually did not feel anything. I was simply at rest, I supposed this was where you would go after you die. A place so dark and quiet that nothing but the tranquil sound of silence seemed to ebb into your soul. This was suddenly shattered when I heard

“Daddy….”

title: [TH] Then there were seven

question: What does the story say about Russian Roulette?

answer: One character drunkenly suggests they all play Russian Roulette and is told to shut up. Later, the narrator decides he wants to play it and starts a game, forcing his friends to play by threatening them with a fully loaded gun. The game turns into a reversed version of the game when one friend uses the roulette gun (loaded with a single bullet) to try to shoot the narrator and fails, and the narrator subsequently decides that they would each fire at him instead of themselves, and be shot by him if their roulette gun failed to fire.

question: What does the story say about Sarah?

answer: Sarah was the daughter of the narrator. She was seven years old when the narrator killed her in a drunken rage on her birthday, the seventh of July. The story is set one year later, on her birthday and the anniversary of her death.

question: What does the story say about the mother's current whereabouts?

question: What does the story say about a sawed-off shotgun?


text:
[] _CASTLE BOOK II_ is a universal role-playing game supplement published by Judges Guild in 1981.

Publication history

Following the release of _Castle Book I_ in 1978, Judges Guild followed up in 1979 with _Castle Book II_, a 64-page softcover book written by Bob Bledsaw.[1] The book was published in several editions from 1979 to 1981; early editions have a black & white cover, later editions a full-color cover.

Contents

The book is a gamemaster's aid that contains 50 maps of castles and forts drawn on hex sheets, for use in wilderness encounters or campaign design. It also contains tables for random generation of castle names.[2] The material is not designed for a specific game system, allowing the gamemaster to adapt the material to any fantasy role-playing game.[3]

Reception

In the May 1988 edition of _Dragon_ (Issue #133), Ken Rolston said, “There are no details for the functions or contents of the individual buildings, but it’s nice to have the layouts when whipping up an adventure setting on short notice.”[4]

Reviews

-   _White Wolf_ (1994)

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

title: Castle Book II

question: What is Castle Book II?

answer: Castle Book II is a role-playing game supplement published by Judges Guild in 1981. It is a follow up book to the first Castle Book which was published in 1978.

question: What does the book feature?

answer: The book has maps of castles and forts in hex sheets for use in campaigns, and a table for generating castle names.

question: What is the book for and how it is used?

answer:
The book is designed to help role-playing by providing pre-created castle locations that can be used with less effort than making layouts from scratch.

It is not meant for any one specific role-playing system, so gamemasters can use it for any system they are using.

question: What is missing from the book?

answer: It was mentioned that Castle Book II does not provide details for the functions and contents of the book.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Published 1981 by Judges Guild, Castle Book II provides gamemasters with 50 maps of castles in hex sheet for use in campaigns. There's also a table for generating randomized castle names. While there are no details provided for the functions of the castle's contents, having pre-made layouts certainly helps.


text:
(IP) Up in Smoke

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*“The sentence for treason is death.”*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps his father was nothing more than a mere dream.

\*\*

title: (FN) Up in Smoke

question: Who is Maximillian Garvey?

answer: Maximillian Garvey is the protagonist of the story. His wife was executed by the King's forces, his son was taken away from him, and he is sentenced to death. However, he escapes into what seems to be an alternate reality through a portal that he created.

question: Why is Maximillian's wife killed?

answer: Maximillian's wife is killed as punishment for his treasonous acts.

question: What act was considered treasonous by the King?

question: What is Maximillian's life work?

answer: His life work is creating the portal that he escapes into.


text:
Yes, said Parkland student Emma González. She and her fellow students at Parkland’s Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School “ostracized” fellow student Nikolas Cruz. Said González when speaking in Washington at the anti-gun “March for Our Lives”:

  “Since he was in middle school, it was no surprise to anyone who knew him, that he was the shooter. Those talking about how we should have not ostracized him? You didn’t know this kid! OK? We did!”

Which is to say, González just made a startling admission. Parkland students bullied Nikolas Cruz.

It may well be that González is right — the rest of us didn’t know him.

But there are a large number of people — some of whom are celebrities and either marched in and/or supported the March — who have spent years insisting that what González and her friends who “ostracized” Nikolas Cruz did was… bullying.

Take actress Debra Messing. Messing is listed on this site called Stomp Out Bullying. The site describes itself as follows:

  STOMP Out Bullying, a national anti-bullying and cyberbullying program for kids and teens, is a signature program of Love Our Children USA, the national nonprofit leader in fighting violence against children since 1999.

  Created in 2005, STOMP Out Bullying™ focuses on reducing and preventing bullying, cyberbullying, sexting and other digital abuse, educating against homophobia, racism and hatred, decreasing school absenteeism, and deterring violence in schools, online and in communities across the country.

  It teaches effective solutions on how to respond to all forms of bullying; as well as educating kids and teens in school and online, providing help for those in need and at risk of suicide, raising awareness, peer mentoring programs in schools, public service announcements by noted celebrities, and social media campaigns.

  An additional focus educates parents on how to keep their children safe and responsible online.

Fair enough. They are opposed to bullying and support “educating kids and teens in school and online, providing help for those in need and at risk of suicide…” All to the good.

But now look at this tweet from Messing:

  I stand with the brave, indomitable kids who galvanized a nation, a world, &did not take inaction as an answer. You have put the “adults” in DC to shame. CS gun laws with finally be enacted, &you will be the Heroes of a generation. TODAY you lead us all. #MarchForOurLives

  — Debra Messing (@DebraMessing) March 24, 2018

Again, to be fair, Messing has no more idea what went on in the day-to-day life of Parkland’s high school than any other outsider. But it is striking that her first reaction — to support the kids — completely contradicts the stated objective of the STOMP Out Bullying program which she also supports. For as we all now know, there on the platform at the March is one of the Parkland students-turned-anti-gun activist blurting out to the world that, well, yes, the peers of Nikolas Cruz, in their common high school, bullied him — by ostracizing him and who knows what else. And the excuse? Well, the rest of us didn’t know him, you see… and per González, if we did we would know Nikolas Cruz _deserved_ to be ostracized. He _deserved_ to be bullied.

In the immediate aftermath of the shooting, in which Cruz took 17 lives, the _TC Palm_ of the _USA Today_ network headlined this:

  FLORIDA SCHOOL SHOOTING: STUDENT KNEW CRUZ: ‘I COULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING TO ADMINISTRATORS’

The story reports the following:

  Marolo Alvarez remembers students taunting Nikolas Cruz.

  “He looked like a school shooter,” Alvarez said students used to say about him.

  … Alvarez, who spoke to reporters at a vigil for victims of the area’s second mass shooting in 13 months, said he wishes he had said something earlier. “I could have said something to administrators, that ‘hey this kid gets bullied a lot, please help him, please reach out to him.’ I kind of regret not doing that,” Alvarez said.

Catch that? Nikolas Cruz wasn’t just bullied — he was “bullied a lot.”

Now. Nobody is going to blame Alvarez, an 11th grader. He at least had the thought that he should say something. But all these kids who are now momentary celebrities and out there with more than a whiff of self-righteousness blaming… the NRA? One has to wonder. Who among them bullied Nikolas Cruz? González admits to it. What about David Hogg? Or Cameron Kasky? Or the rest on that _Time_ magazine cover that blares the caption “Enough.”

Kasky has played an important role in the protest, writing this at CNN:

  We can’t ignore the issues of gun control that this tragedy raises. And so, I’m asking — no, demanding — we take action now.

  Why? Because at the end of the day, the students at my school felt one shared experience — our politicians abandoned us by failing to keep guns out of schools.

  But this time, my classmates and I are going to hold them to account. This time we are going to pressure them to take action. This time we are going to force them to spend more energy protecting human lives than unborn fetuses.

Well aside from the appalling notion — part of the left-wing canon — that unborn babies are not human lives, note that Kamsky and doubtless his friends are intent on holding _other_ people to account. Politicians.

But nowhere are they saying that maybe, just maybe, they need to have a good long look in the nearest mirror and ask themselves what 11th grader Alvarez is asking. Which is: could they have done more? Were any of them — as Emma González admits — participating in the “ostracizing” of Nikolas Cruz? Were any of these kids in any way bullying Cruz? All too often Americans see stories where some bullied kid feels so set upon by his or her peers that they commit suicide. Nikolas Cruz effectively committed suicide, by killing seventeen people, most of them students — peers. He will face the death penalty and one would think he will get it.

But the problem undiscussed at this rally the other day was the responsibility of Cruz’s peers themselves in not taking the “STOMP Out Bullying” message into their own hearts and practice. Instead, as Emma González freely admits, they did exactly what so many celebrities like Debra Messing and others say they are so passionate about. They bullied a kid, taunted him. Because, like, you know, he deserved it. He was so weird.

The really sad part is that this was just another day in high school, where since forever the popular kids sneer at the geeks, the nerds, and the weirdos.

But in this case, when something terrible happened, the kids blamed the politicians for their troubles. And no adult blinked.

question: What is Stomp Out Bullying?

answer: Stomp out Bullying is a national anti-bullying and cyberbullying for kids and teens, and is a national nonprofit leader in fighting violence against children since 1999.

question: What is the main news event of the article?

answer: Nikolas Cruz shot and killed several classmates at Parkland Highschool. Many have stated that he was bullied and ostracized by classmates.


text:
[Roy Sullivan struck by lightning 7 times]Some would say Roy Sullivan was the unluckiest man to ever walk the planet. Or some might say he was the luckiest. Roy Sullivan managed to survive being struck by lightning seven times throughout his life. You might be thinking, there’s no way that’s even possible and this is just another internet myth. But the fact is, all seven lightning strikes were documented and recorded by the superintendent of Shenandoah National Park, R. Taylor Hoskins, and all his injuries were verified by various doctors.

Nicknamed the “Lightning Man”, Roy earned himself the dubious distinction of somehow becoming a human lightning rod. His unwanted fame landed him with two television appearances, one on “_That’s Incredible_” and the other “_To Tell the Truth_“. He also earned himself a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records, and ranked #7 on Cracked.com’s “_Most Bizarrely Unlucky People Who Ever Lived_“.

The odds of being struck by lightning once is any given year is about 1 in 1,107,143 (based on the number of lightning induced deaths per year). While it’s more complicated to calculate the odds of being struck seven times throughout ones life, it’s roughly 1 in a decillion! That’s the number one followed by 33 zeros.

LIGHTNING STRIKE #1 – Roy was seeking shelter inside a fire lookout tower as a thunderstorm passed overhead. Because the tower wasn’t quite completed, it had no lightning rod attached to the roof. Roy remembers the roof being struck about 6 times before he made a dash to find cover elsewhere. As he did so, he suffered the worst of his 7 strikes. It blew a hole in his shoe and burned a 2 inch trail up his entire leg.

LIGHTNING STRIKE #2 – The second strike occurred while Roy was inside his truck. This is most unlikely because vehicles act as Faraday cages, directing the electric current around the passenger compartment and into the ground. However, Roy had his window open and the lightning deflected of the nearby trees through his window striking him in the head. This particular strike knocked him unconscious, burned off his eyebrows and most of his hair.

LIGHTNING STRIKE #3 – The third strike occurred in 1970 while Roy was standing in his front yard. The lightning hit a nearby power transformer atop a pole and arced to the ground, hitting Roy in the shoulder. The only wound suffered was a minor searing on his right shoulder.

LIGHTNING STRIKE #4 – The fourth strike occurred while Roy was working in Shenandoah National Park. He was standing in a ranger station when the lightning passed through the window, lightning his hair on fire. By this time, Roy developed a the fear of death and began carrying a pale of water with him. I won’t go far as to call it a phobia because the man _had_ been struck 4 times by now. The odds of this happening to any human is astronomical.

LIGHTNING STRIKE #5 – In 1975, Roy was driving his truck through the national forest when he saw a storm cloud brewing in the distance. Fearing the storm, he quickly drove his truck in the opposite direction, but Roy remembers the cloud was somehow following him. When he thought he was far enough away, he stepped out of his vehicle and only got a few yards away before he was struck for a fifth time. The lightning once again lit his hair on fire, blew off his shoe and arced from one leg to the other at knee height. He crawled back to his truck and poured the bucket of water over his head.

LIGHTNING STRIKE #6 – In 1976, Roy was struck by lightning a sixth time. Similar to the 5th strike, the cloud seemed to follow him. No major injuries except for a wounded ankle.

LIGHTNING STRIKE #7 – In 1977, Roy was fishing in a fresh water lake when a storm appeared in the distance. A short time later, Roy was struck in the head, once again burning his hair. As he was making his way back to his truck, a bear tried to steal the trout he had caught earlier in the day. Roy fought of the bear with a tree branch.

At one point, Roy developed a severe case of depression. Few people wanted to be around him for fear they too would be struck by lightning. He recalls one of his fellow park rangers running from him when the two of them saw a storm cloud brewing in the distance.

Sadly, after all the survived lightning strikes, Roy Sullivan took his own life with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the stomach. It’s believed he shot himself over a relationship in which the woman did not love him back. Roy Sullivan was 71 years old.

Other Weather Articles

-   Lightning Facts and Statistics
-   What is a Heat Burst?
-   Can Lightning Be Used As a Source of Power?
-   Can Lightning Strike the Same Place Twice?
-   Do Car Tires Protect Me From Lightning?
-   Can Lightning Strike Me Inside My House?

question: Who is Roy Sullivan?

answer: Roy Sullivan, nicknamed the "Lightning Man", has been struck by lightning 7 times and survived all of them.

question: What are the odds of being struck by lightning?

answer: The odds of being struck by lightning is 1 in 1,107,143.

question: How did Roy get struck by lightning the fifth time?

answer: Roy stepped out of his vehicle for a moment while in a storm and was struck by lightning.

question: How did Roy get struck by lightning the seventh time?

answer: Roy was fishing at a lake when a storm appeared in a distance. Then, he was struck again.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This article details the seven different occasions in which Roy Sullivan, nicknamed "The Lighting Man," was struck by lightning. He survived each strike.


text:
[GettyImages-165763476.jpg]_By guest blogger_ Tom Stafford

We all know someone who is convinced their opinion is better than everyone else’s on a topic – perhaps, even, that it is the only correct opinion to have. Maybe, on some topics, _you_ are that person. No psychologist would be surprised that people who are convinced their beliefs are superior think they are better informed than others, but this fact leads to a follow on question: are people _actually_ better informed on the topics for which they are convinced their opinion is superior? This is what Michael Hall and Kaitlin Raimi set out to check in a series of experiments in the _Journal of Experimental Social Psychology_.

The researchers distinguish “belief superiority” from “belief confidence” (thinking your opinion is correct). Belief superiority is relative – it is when you think your opinion is more correct than other people’s; the top end of their belief superiority scale is to indicate that your belief is “Totally correct (mine is the only correct view)”.

The pair set out to find people who felt their beliefs on a variety of controversial political issues (things like terrorism and civil liberties, or wealth redistribution) were superior, and to check – using multiple choice quizzes – how well they were informed on the topics about which they held these superiority beliefs.

Across five studies Hall and Raimi found that those people with the highest belief superiority also tended to have the largest gap between their perceived and actual knowledge – the belief superior consistently suffered from the illusion that they were better informed than they were. As you might expect, those with the lowest belief superiority tended to underestimate how much they knew.

As well as simple background knowledge, the researchers were also interested in how people with belief superiority sought out new information relevant to that belief. They gave participants a selection of news headlines and asked them to select which articles they’d like to read in full at the end of the experiment. Categorising headlines as belief-congruent or belief incongruent, the researchers observed that those participants with higher belief-superiority were more likely to select belief congruent headlines. In other words, despite being badly informed compared to their self-perception, these participants chose to neglect sources of information that would enhance their knowledge.

Finally and more promisingly, the researchers found some evidence that belief superiority can be dented by feedback. If participants were told that people with beliefs like theirs tended to score poorly on topic knowledge, or if they were directly told that their score on the topic knowledge quiz was low, this not only reduced their belief superiority, it also caused them to seek out the kind of challenging information they had previously neglected in the headlines task (though the evidence for this behavioural effect was mixed).

The studies all involved participants accessed via Amazon’s Mechanical Turk, allowing the researchers to work with large samples of Americans for each experiment. Their findings mirror the well-known Dunning-Kruger effect – Kruger and Dunning showed that for domains such as judgements of grammar, humour or logic, the most skilled tend to underestimate their ability, while the least skilled overestimate it. Hall and Raimi’s research extends this to the realm of political opinions (where objective assessment of correctness is not available), showing that the belief your opinion is better than other people’s tends to be associated with overestimation of your relevant knowledge.

Overall the research presents a mixed picture. It shows, as others have, that our opinions are often not as justified as we believe – even for the opinions that we are most confident are better than other people’s. On the other hand, it shows that people are responsive to feedback, and aren’t solely driven by confirmation bias when they seek out new information. The final picture is of human rationality that is flawed, but correctable, not doomed.

—Is belief superiority justified by superior knowledge?

[TOM STAFFORD HEAD SHOT]POST WRITTEN BY TOM STAFFORD (@TOMSTAFFORD) FOR THE BPS RESEARCH DIGEST. Tom is a psychologist from the University of Sheffield who is a regular contributor to the Mind Hacks blog. His latest book is For argument’s sake: evidence that reason can change minds.

question: What is "belief superiority"?

answer: It is when you think your opinion is more correct than other people's.

question: What happens when subjects believe their opinion is superior to others?

answer: Across five studies Hall and Raimi found that those people with the highest belief superiority also tended to have the largest gap between their perceived and actual knowledge while those with the lowest belief superiority tended to underestimate how much they knew.

question: What is the Dunning-Kruger effect?

answer: Information can't be found.

question: What were the results of the research?

answer: The research shows that our opinions are often not as justified as we believe though the researchers found that subjects aren't solely driven by confirmation bias.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: At the time of the article, Hall and Raimi's research on belief superiority showed that although people believe their opinions are more justified than others, they are not always driven by confirmation bias. They found that belief superiority can be dented by feedback.


text:
                           1

...Three's a crowd when you're standing in a bathroom stall...

Tap...Tap...Tap...

I couldn't begin to tell you how happy the sound of vigorous tapping of a 40 bag of blow pinned between the butt end of a lighter and the wall of a bathroom stall makes me.
"Fucking Nelson", I say while taking a drag of my cigarette, " can't afford to pay his employees on time, but can spend hundreds of dollars on flowers to put in the ladies room that look they  are straight from Babylon. who the fuck cares what you're looking at when you're taking a shit."

"Cunt" says Karlo.

Pascal just looks at us in disbelief, as he knows full well our conversation can be heard by the numerous 24h party people waiting to use the toilette.

Tap...Tap...Tap...

"Ready!" Says Karlo, "whose going first".
As he jams my car key into the baggy, we hear a loud banging on the door.

"What the fuck are you guys doing, there is people waiting at the bar and my bartenders are doing blow in the bathroom." The voice yells, " are you fuckers smoking!"

We share a glance. Immediately we know it's our manager Nathalie. We rush to take our bumps and pile out the bathroom stall.

"Take it easy" says a cocaine fuelled pascal, "they're swingers, they're not here for the alcohol.

Walking out the bathroom trying to navigate my way through a sea of half naked people wearing everything from burlesque style corsets, to ass less chaps, to nothing at all. Walking past the infamous cherry booths, that look like they came straight out of a speakeasy from a William S. Burroughs novel, crimson velvet curtain and all. I suddenly see several men walking in and out of one booth. My curiosity at this point is peeked. I can't resist. I stick my head in. I see so many naked men on one women fucking a hole out  the back of her head.

So many hands.
So many cocks.
One woman.
She's loving it.

"She's a squirter" one of them yells as he cums in unison.

They notice me. I lock eyes with one of the men a quickly get out of there. Making my way back toward the bar, I notice a man wearing a fine tailored suit with a look of horror and disbelief on his face. He's looking right at me now.

" she had never swung before, he says , " I mean we had gone to some of Frank's parties but we had never dinned in." That man was her husband.

I think back to something Burroughs wrote in "Junk", sodomy is as old as the human species.

                            2

The cocaine is hitting me now. I live for that feeling, when it washes over you like wave after crushing wave smashing into the the sandy beach with the force of two trucks colliding on the interstate. Therapeutic, calming, soothing. Blow is a pure kick, a feeling that lifts you straight up, like an elevator in a high rise, and starts leaving you as soon as you feel it.

Walking through the sea of people, I feel like a flounder swimming amongst it's school. Standing in front of me the most beautiful goddess I've ever seen dancing with the stylized gestures of a Mayan temple goddess. There was something archaic in her movements, an animalistic grace, beautiful and repulsive all at once. I'm immediately transported back to a time centuries ago. I could picture her like a gypsy girl dancing around the light of a campfire. I can hear the sounds of off beat clapping accompanied by the sounds of ancient instruments long forgotten. I can see her ambiguous gestures fading in and out of the light. The touch of her hand around my neck snaps me back to reality. She pulls me in close with the force of a WWII era woman clutching her husband whose returned from war in the old world, never letting go. It's amazing how you can feel alone with someone In room crammed with people. I always thought how strange it is that societies expectations of the times youth need to go to loud places to find people they can be quiet with.

All my different voices are hitting me now all at once. Uppers, downers, ketamine, cocaine, alcohol. You name it I'm on it. It feels like there is a force greater than gravity weighing me down on this spot. I get lost in the flickering of the strobe lights above us glistening of e beaded up sweat on her body. I'm hypnotized. Like a draconian figure from a Bram Stoker,s film I'm drawn to her neck. Our bodies move synchronized to the tantric rhythms the DJ is spinning.
I make my move.
I kiss her neck.
The sweat of her neck quenches my thirst. It was like I could tap into a source like I was turning on a faucet. I was the artist and she was my vessel. She filled my flask, I drank from it. I delved, devoured her. Unmistakably drowning in her knowledge  of magic, of good, of evil. I asked my self, "have I had my fill?"

I kiss her lips.
Our tongues dancing like champion tango dancers, strangers in the night. Is it love? Or is it lust?  She slips a pill of mdma in my mouth with her tongue.

 I'm not asking for forever, just for tonight.

She stares deep into my eyes with her pupils as big and black, with a mosquito's unseeing calm.

"Let's go back to my place."

title: [NF] strangers in the night

question: Summarize all the sexual activities going on in the story.

answer: In one of the cherry booths, a woman is having sex with a bunch of men at the same time. It is implied that the woman invites the narrator back to her place for sex.

question: Summarize everything related to drugs.

answer: At the start of the story, the narrator and the other bartenders are doing cocaine. The narrator is on a variety of drugs, including uppers, downers, ketamine, cocaine, and alcohol. The woman slips the narrator some mdma.

question: What does the story say about what makes a good bartender?

question: Summarize the sources of tension in the story.

answer: There is a worry that the anrrator and other bartenders will get in trouble from their manager. In the later scene, there is sexual tension between the narrator and the woman.


text:
REYNHARD TAMBOS MARULI TUA SINAGA (born 19 February 1983)[1] is an Indonesian serial rapist who was convicted of 159 sex offences, including 136 rapes of young men committed in Manchester, England, between 2015 and 2017, where he was living as a mature student. He was found guilty of drugging and sexually assaulting 48 men during this period, 44 of whom he raped, some repeatedly, although the police believe he was offending for years beforehand. Sinaga was prosecuted in four trials between 2018 and 2020 and was given concurrent life sentences with a minimum term of 30 years. The prosecution described Sinaga as the most prolific rapist in British legal history.[2][3]

Sinaga is believed by police to have raped or assaulted at least 195 men since 2005, two years before his arrival in the UK.[4] In Manchester, he waited for potential victims outside nightclubs, pubs, and similar venues in the early hours.[5][6][7] He then offered them a stay at his flat, subsequently drugging and raping his victims.[8] After some of the assaults, he boasted about his actions on WhatsApp.[9]

Background

Sinaga was born in 1983 in Jambi,[10] Sumatra, Indonesia.[11] After completing a degree in Architecture at the Faculty of Engineering of the University of Indonesia in Depok in 2006,[12] he moved to the UK on a student visa and began to study in August 2007 at Manchester University, where he completed a MSc degree in Planning in 2009 and an MA in Sociology in 2011.[13] While in England Sinaga attended St Chrysostom's Church, a liberal congregation of the Church of England, and the church provided Sinaga with a character reference for his trial.[14][15] The presiding judge, Suzanne Gooddard, remarked during the sentencing of the second trial that “It is almost beyond belief that someone who could profess some Christian faith could at the same time have been committing such wicked and evil crimes.”[16] The St Chrysostom's Church later distanced itself from Sinaga after his conviction.[17]

Remaining in Manchester, he began to study for a Leeds University PhD in August 2012 on human geography, which he did not complete. His thesis, entitled “Sexuality and everyday transnationalism among South Asian gay and bisexual men in Manchester”, was submitted in August 2016, and was assessed as a “fail”, but he was permitted to amend and resubmit it,[18] and was working on his thesis at the time of his arrest.[19] He was financially supported by his father, a banker who moved into the palm oil sector.[20] Sinaga's mother came to the first pre-trial hearing, but was not present for any of the four trials. While in Manchester, Sinaga lived openly as a gay man, living not far from Manchester's gay village, and reportedly had many boyfriends.[21]

Attacks

Sinaga lived in a flat in central Manchester which acted as a base for his assaults. He would wait for men leaving nightclubs and bars before leading them to his flat, often offering them somewhere to have a drink or call a taxi. Giving them a drugged drink, believed to have been spiked with GHB, Sinaga would then assault the victims while they were unconscious and video the attack with a mobile phone.[22] He rarely used condoms when penetrating his victims; despite this, he was found negative for sexually transmitted infections upon his arrest.[23]

At the time his sentence was announced in January 2020, almost all of Sinaga's victims were known to have been heterosexual young men, with three exceptions.[24] He saw “turning” heterosexual men as a sport. Of one victim in January 2015, who had argued with his girlfriend in the Factory nightclub near Sinaga's home, he told a WhatsApp group: “SuperRey saves straight boys from their monstrous girlfriend.”[25] In June 2017, his last victim, an 18-year-old amateur rugby union player, regained consciousness during the rape, fought off his attacker, and reported the incident to the police.[26] Sinaga was badly beaten and was taken to hospital, while police initially arrested his victim on suspicion of grievous bodily harm.[27] Subsequent examination of Sinaga's iPhone by the police led to the discovery of more than 3 terabytes of digital video evidence of his assaults and rapes.[28][29] Many of his victims were traceable because Sinaga kept their phones, watches, ID cards, etc.,[30] and he had used social media to reach his unknowing victims online.[31] Although the earliest case to be tried in courts stems from 2015, police believe Sinaga began the attacks in 2005, two years before he arrived in the UK.[32]

Offences and legal proceedings

Sinaga's earliest established offence occurred on New Year's Day 2015. The man, a heterosexual like the majority of Sinaga's victims, could remember nothing when he awoke the next day in his abuser's flat covered in vomit.[33] Because of the false concern from Sinaga, like others, he expressed concern for imposing on his host before leaving; he had been raped twice.[34]

Sinaga pleaded 'not guilty' to all charges made against him with the result that his victims had to endure relating evidence in court and the videos being shown to the jurors and others present at the trials.[35] In his own defence, he claimed to have been playing sex games with the other man playing dead in order to fulfil his fantasies.[36] He claimed that the encounters were consensual, a claim found to be false as victims were heard snoring in the videos.[37]

The four trials took place between 1 June and 10 July 2018 covering 13 victims, 1 April to 7 May 2019 with 12 victims, 16 September to 4 October 2019 covering 10 victims, and December 2019 with 13 victims,[38] a total of 48 named victims out of at least 195 Sinaga is believed to have raped while they were unconscious.[39] Police have been unable to trace 70 of his victims.[40]

Sinaga was convicted of 136 counts of rape, 14 counts of sexual assault, eight counts of attempted rape and one count of assault by penetration.[41][42] In the first two trials he was given 88 concurrent life sentences.[43] Reporting restrictions were in place until the conclusion of his last trial, after which his crimes were made public for the first time.[44] Detectives subsequently set up a hotline with the expectation that dozens of new victims could come forward.[45] Sinaga is imprisoned at HM Prison Manchester and has refused to cooperate with investigators.[46]

Aftermath

Sinaga's father, Saibun Sinaga, in an interview with BBC Indonesia, expressed his opinion a day after the sentencing, where he was quoted as saying that his son “got what he deserved” and that “we accept the verdict. His punishment fits his crimes. I don't want to discuss the case any further.”[47]

Sinaga's mother, Normawati Silaen, told _The Sunday Times_ that she “wondered if [Sinaga's final victim] had made up the story”. She stated that she was not aware that he was gay: “We are a good Christian family who do not believe in homosexuality. He is my baby.”[48][49]

The charity Safeline reported a record increase in calls to its hotline for male sexual abuse survivors in the aftermath of the case. Duncan Craig, founder of Survivors Manchester, the charity supporting several of Sinaga’s victims, stated that it had started a national conversation regarding men opening up about sexual abuse.[50]

After Sinaga's conviction, the mayor of Depok in Indonesia, Mohammad Idris, announced that he planned to order raids on the local LGBT community.[51] The announcement was swiftly condemned by human rights activists saying that conservatives in Indonesia were using Sinaga as an excuse to target the gay community in the country.[52]

On 16 January 2020, after Sinaga's case was referred by the Crown Prosecution Service to the Attorney General, it was referred by him to the Court of Appeal for being too lenient. Geoffrey Cox was reported as saying a “whole life order” should be considered for Sinaga, meaning his crimes were so serious he would never be released from prison.[53][54] A whole life tariff has not been imposed for crimes other than murder, though Judge Suzanne Goddard QC considered this option when sentencing Sinaga and said that he should never be released. In her summing up, Judge Goddard commented: “In my judgment you are a highly dangerous, cunning and deceitful individual who will never be safe to be released, but that is a matter for the Parole Board.”[55]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21]

[22]

[23]

[24]

[25]

[26]

[27]

[28]

[29]

[30]

[31]

[32]

[33]

[34]

[35]

[36]

[37]

[38]

[39]

[40]

[41]

[42]

[43]

[44]

[45]

[46]

[47]

[48]

[49]

[50]

[51]

[52]

[53]

[54]

[55]

title: Reynhard Sinaga

question: What does the text say about life in Indonesia?

question: What does the text say about Reynhard Sinaga?

answer: Reynhard Sinaga is an Indonesian serial rapist who was convicted of 159 sex offenses, including 136 rapes of young men committed in Manchester, England, between 2015 and 2017, where he was living as a mature university student. He was found guilty of drugging and sexually assaulting 48 men during this period, 44 of whom he raped, some repeatedly. Sinaga was prosecuted in four trials between 2018 and 2020 and was given concurrent life sentences with a minimum of 30 years. Sinaga is the most prolific serial rapist in British legal history, having raped or assaulted at least 195 men since 2005, two years before his arrival in the UK. He waited for potential victims outside nightclubs, pubs, and similar venues in the early hours and offered them stay at his flat, where he would drug and rape them.


text:
His ears rang with such force he thought certainly his head must have split open. His vision was blurred and the light seared his eyes. Questions began running through his mind. How had he gotten here? Why was he on the ground? What was that horrible smell? Why couldn't he get up?

Something tugged at his consciousness. Like an alarm going off when all you want to do is sleep. Incessant. Constant. Panicked.

Panicked?

Though it was only a few inches, lifting his head was the hardest thing he had ever done. before him lay wreckage. Complete annihilation. Stone buildings were crumbled and collapsed.

A small child, maybe not quite into his teens, lay beneath what looked to be the now shattered roof of a building. A dark pool spread slowly beneath his torso. His sharp blue eyes, which, even full of panic, were the most vibrant eyes the man had ever seen. They would haunt him.

The child had been screaming for who-knows-how-long. Once he realized the man saw him he began speaking french in a cotton-soft, but thready voice.
The man didn't understand a word.

He tried to talk but couldn't. Fine leather boots filled the man's vision. The owner of those boots bellowed something, the ringing in his ears and a wave of nausea made the man miss most of what was being said. The owner of those boots bellowed again and spoke in a soothing tone low enough the man couldn't understand him, but felt calmed by his words nonetheless. The man tried to look up but couldn't manage to move enough to see higher than the boots. The pain and nausea was too severe.

All the while the child spoke. Pleaded? Begged?

More boots, not as nice. Enough movement that the man's head felt like it split right open and he vomited all over those fine leather boots.

He lay on some sort of makeshift cot now. They were raising him from the ground, the quick motion threatening to stain those fine leather boots even more.
Through it all, through the pain, the nausea, the ringing, the man heard the child.
""Ne me quitte pas." His voice was soft, like fresh cotton. If he could sing he would melt the hearts of everyone in the room.

The boy's pleading grew to screams. No hearts melted here. Though, one broke.

"Ne me quitte pas!" His soft voice grew even more panicked. He must realize they were leaving.

"Ne me quitte pas!!" The man tried to say something, tried to motion to the booted men. All he could do was look the child in his piercing blue eyes.

"Ne me quitte pas!!!" Sobs and pain and the growing distance between them made the last almost unhearable. Almost.

The boy's screams echoed through the destroyed alley. They echoed through the small town. And they echoed in the man's dreams for the rest of his days.

"Ne me quitte pas."

title: [RF] "Ne me quitte pas."

question: Where does the narrator wake up?

answer: It seems the narrator wakes up in a crumbled building or destroyed alley, presumably after a bombing.

question: Who is the child in the story?

answer: The child is a teenage boy who is crushed under part of a collapsed roof. He has been screaming and is bleeding significantly. The boy continually repeats, "Ne me quitte pas" meaning, "don't leave me".

question: Does the boy get left behind?

answer: Yes.

question: Are there other characters in the story?

answer: Soldiers come to take the narrator away.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator wakes up in a crumbled building or destroyed alley, presumably after a bombing. There is a teenage boy who is crushed under part of a collapsed roof. He has been screaming and is bleeding significantly. The boy continually repeats, "Ne me quitte pas" meaning, "don't leave me". Soldiers come to get the narrator; they leave the boy.


text:
FOOD SCIENCE is the basic science and applied science of food; its scope starts at overlap with agricultural science and nutrition and leads through the scientific aspects of food safety and food processing, informing the development of food technology. The Institute of Food Technologists defines food science as “the discipline in which the engineering, biological, and physical sciences are used to study the nature of foods, the causes of deterioration, the principles underlying food processing, and the improvement of foods for the consuming public”.[1] The textbook _Food Science_ defines food science in simpler terms as “the application of basic sciences and engineering to study the physical, chemical, and biochemical nature of foods and the principles of food processing”.[2]

Activities of food technologists include the development of new food products, design of processes to produce these foods, choice of packaging materials, shelf-life studies, sensory evaluation of products using survey panels or potential consumers, as well as microbiological and chemical testing.[3] Food scientists may study more fundamental phenomena that are directly linked to the production of food products and its properties.

Food science brings together multiple scientific disciplines.[4] It incorporates concepts from fields such as chemistry, physics, physiology, microbiology, biochemistry. Food technology incorporates concepts from chemical engineering, for example.

Disciplines

Some of the subdisciplines of food science are described below.

Food chemistry

Food chemistry is the study of chemical processes and interactions of all biological and non-biological components of foods.[5][6] The biological substances include such items as meat, poultry, lettuce, beer, and milk as examples. It is similar to biochemistry in its main components such as carbohydrates, lipids, and protein, but it also includes areas such as water, vitamins, minerals, enzymes, food additives, flavors, and colors. This discipline also encompasses how products change under certain food processing techniques and ways either to enhance or to prevent them from happening.

Food physical chemistry

Food physical chemistry is the study of both physical and chemical interactions in foods in terms of physical and chemical principles applied to food systems, as well as the application of physicochemical techniques and instrumentation for the study and analysis of foods.

Food engineering

[A pizza factory in Germany, an example of food engineering] Food engineering is the industrial processes used to manufacture food.

Food microbiology

[Food microbiology laboratory at the Faculty of Food Technology, Latvia University of Life Sciences and Technologies.] Food microbiology is the study of the microorganisms that inhabit, create, or contaminate food, including the study of microorganisms causing food spoilage.[7] “Good” bacteria, however, such as probiotics, are becoming increasingly important in food science.[8][9][10] In addition, microorganisms are essential for the production of foods such as cheese, yogurt, bread, beer, wine and, other fermented foods.

Food technology

Food technology is the technological aspects. Early scientific research into food technology concentrated on food preservation. Nicolas Appert's development in 1810 of the canning process was a decisive event. The process wasn't called canning then and Appert did not really know the principle on which his process worked, but canning has had a major impact on food preservation techniques.

Foodomics

In 2009, Foodomics was defined as “a discipline that studies the Food and Nutrition domains through the application and integration of advanced -omics technologies to improve consumer's well-being, health, and knowledge”.[11] Foodomics requires the combination of food chemistry, biological sciences, and data analysis.

Foodomics greatly helps the scientists in an area of food science and nutrition to gain a better access to data, which is used to analyze the effects of food on human health, etc. It is believed to be another step towards better understanding of development and application of technology and food. Moreover, the study of foodomics leads to other omics sub-disciplines, including nutrigenomics which is the integration of the study of nutrition, gene and omics.

Molecular gastronomy

Molecular gastronomy is a subdiscipline of food science that seeks to investigate the physical and chemical transformations of ingredients that occur in cooking. Its program includes three axes, as cooking was recognized to have three components, which are social, artistic and technical.

Quality control

[A technician performing quality control]

Quality control involves the causes, prevention and communication dealing with food-borne illness.

Quality control also ensures that product meets specs to ensure the customer receives what they expect from the packaging to the physical properties of the product itself.

Sensory analysis

Sensory analysis is the study of how consumers' senses perceive food.

By country

Australia

The Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO) is the federal government agency for scientific research in Australia. CSIRO maintains more than 50 sites across Australia and biological control research stations in France and Mexico. It has nearly 6,500 employees.

South Korea

The Korean Society of Food Science and Technology, or KoSFoST, claims to be the first society in South Korea for food science.[12]

United States

In the United States, food science is typically studied at land-grant universities. Some of the country's pioneering food scientists were women who had attended chemistry programs at land-grant universities (which were state-run and largely under state mandates to allow for sex-blind admission), but then graduated and had difficulty finding jobs due to widespread sexism in the chemistry industry in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Finding conventional career paths blocked, they found alternative employment as instructors in home economics departments and used that as a base to launch the foundation of many modern food science programs.

The main US organization regarding food science and food technology is the Institute of Food Technologists (IFT), headquartered in Chicago, Illinois, which is the US member organisation of the International Union of Food Science and Technology (IUFoST).

[1] Heldman, Dennis R. “IFT and the Food Science Profession.” _Food Technology._ October 2006. p. 11.

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5] John M. de Man.1999. _Principles of Food Chemistry_ (Food Science Text Series), Springer Science, Third Edition

[6] John M. de Man. 2009. Food process engineering and technology, Academic Press, Elsevier: London and New York, 1st edn.

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

title: Food science

question: In what ways do microorganisms improve and damage food?

answer: Microorganisms are responsible for food spoilage. Good bacteria or probiotics have become increasingly important in food science. They are used in the production of foods such as cheese, yogurt, beer, bread, and other fermented foods.

question: Why were some of the best food scientists in the US women?

answer: Many female scientists had studied chemistry at land grant universities. These state-run universities allowed for mandated sex-blind admission. When the women graduated, sexism in the late 19th and 20th centuries, prevented them from finding employment. Many of them became home economic instructors, using their positions to launch modern food science programs.


text:
The COMBE HAY LOCKS is a derelict flight of locks on the Somerset Coal Canal near Combe Hay, Somerset. Twenty two locks raised the canal over approximately . The lock flight was predated in the immediate area by two other methods of canal lifts—first by a series of caisson locks, then by an inclined plane. The lock flight opened in 1805, and was in operation until 1899.

History

The route of the Somerset Coal Canal, after leaving its junction with the Kennet and Avon Canal at Limpley Stoke, roughly parallels that of the Midford Brook. At Midford, the canal followed the valley of the Cam Brook. At Combe Hay, the steep valley required the canal to climb a significant height—[1]—over a distance of .[2][3]

Caisson locks

[John Billingsley's engraving of the caisson lock at Combe Hay] The first proposed solution to overcoming the gradient was by the use of three caisson locks.[4] Adverts were printed in Bath periodicals in January 1796 to recruit stonemasons for building the locks.[5]

Construction of the first caisson lock began in 1796. The masonry chamber, known as the cistern, was long and at its widest, and had a depth of . The wooden caisson—the moving box within the cistern—was long, wide and tall. Each of the three caisson locks was planned to provide a lift of .[6]

Trials of this first lock took place between November 1797 and June 1798.[7] These showed that it could be traversed in 7 minutes; on 9 June 1798, a reporter for the _Bath Herald_ wrote that:

The same publication wrote the following year that the system was so simple that a boat could traverse the caisson in just 10 minutes under the operation of a 12-year-old boy.[8] The report identified problems with the caisson's ability to remain watertight,[9] and hypothesized that the only solution would be to rebuild the chamber.[10] A second caisson was started and construction of the third was probably never begun.[11] Surveyor William Smith visited the site at least twice, in 1798 and 1799.[12] The geology of the area, with substantial deposits of fuller's earth,[13] proved unsuitable for the caisson chambers—in May 1799 the masonry of the lock chamber bulged under pressure and the caisson was immovable. Repairs were quoted at £16,000——which was in addition to the £75,167 (£) already invested in the caisson project.[14] In January 1800, the caissons were abandoned and an alternative sought.[15][16]

In May 1801, having moved to Bath upon her father's retirement, Jane Austen wrote to her sister Cassandra about plans with her uncle to “take the long-planned walk to the Cassoon”;[17][18] the short trip was a popular excursion at the time.[19] The same year, Richard Warner wrote of the then-state of the caisson lock in his _Excursions from Bath_:[20]

The precise location of the caisson locks (or their intended location) is in doubt.[21][22] General consensus is that the completed caisson lock was accessed east of the basin near Caisson House. The second caisson was likely a short distance to the east,[23] with the third a considerable distance downstream (near the site of Locks 19 and 20).[24][25]

Inclined plane

The canal company investigated alternatives to the caisson locks, and a lock flight was chosen as the appropriate method. To achieve this, in June 1800 the company made the decision to build a temporary inclined plane,[26] although this method for climbing the hill proved slow.[27] The inclined plane was only ever intended to avoid further delays to the canal's construction,[28] and would only be in operation while the flight of locks was built.[29] To reduce the length (and gradient) of the inclined plane, three pound locks were built to the east of Combe Hay. The inclined plane began operation in November 1801.[30]

Lock flight

In addition to the three extant locks below the inclined plane, a further 19 locks were built to supersede the plane.[31] Fundraising began in February 1800, initially via shareholder donations totalling £20,000 (). In 1802, a fund established by the canal company along with the proprietors of the Wilts and Berks and Kennet and Avon canals sought to raise a further £45,000 ().[32]

Construction began on the flight in November 1802, with the first lock (lock 19) being completed in June 1804. During the works, the caisson lock was demolished and it is likely that the significant amount of masonry was reclaimed for use on the lock flight as coping stones[33] and possibly on the later building of Caisson House.[34]

The engineer of the flight was probably William Bennet.[35] The flight of 22 locks fully opened in April 1805.[36] These all had the same specification—a rise of approximately , a beam of , and a length to fit a narrowboat. These locks were half as wide of those on the connecting Kennet and Avon Canal, thus two vessels from the Somerset Coal Canal could fit side by side in the broad Kennet and Avon locks.[37]

To achieve the climb in the available area, the lock flight diverted north of the caisson and inclined plane routes,[38] before turning 170° and rejoining the route to the south. This hairpin bend became known as the “Bull's Nose”.[39][40] Speed of traversing the flight was a priority, and the lock paddles and culverts were made as large as practicable to empty and fill the locks as quickly as possible. To avoid damage to the locks caused by carelessness, wrought iron plates and cast iron slabs were installed on the lock flight.[41] In 1805, the locks opened.[42]

Decline

In 1881, the Camerton Branch of the Bristol and North Somerset Railway opened through the Cam valley, crossing the lock flight at lock 16.[43] Like many canals, the arrival of rail transport began the decline of the waterway's use.[44] The canal was put up for sale in 1894. The backpumps on the flight ceased operation in November 1898;[45] transport would continue to operate until August 1899 when the water levels became insufficient for navigation.[46]

Legacy

After the abandonment of the canal in 1899, the flight was left to become derelict. The chamber of lock 16, beneath a railway arch of the Camerton railway branch, was infilled.[47]

In 1982, 10 of the extant locks—those in the parish of Combe Hay—were given Grade II listed status. The survey for the listing found that the locks' ashlar retaining walls survive to a height of , and some of the lower lock gates were still in situ.[48] In 1984, a further five locks of the flight—those in South Stoke parish—were also listed as Grade II. This survey found similar survival of the retaining walls, although it described some as being in a poor condition. A milestone is extant near Lock 4, although its cast iron plaque (reading “4/MILES”) is missing. It was identified that four locks in the 1805 flight of 19 had been buried or otherwise destroyed.[49]

A building near the summit of the flight, Caisson House, is named for its proximity to the first caisson lock. The building is likely a former terrace of cottages built for the canal company in the 1830s (and therefore the removal of the caisson lock predates the cottages' construction).[50]

Restoration

General restoration work began on the lower lock flight (below the Bull's Nose) in 2000. This work was expanded to cover the upper flight in 2011, as landowner permission needed to be sought. This work was undertaken alongside the Inland Waterways Association's Waterway Recovery Group.[51]

Locations

  Feature   Coordinates   Status
  --------- ------------- ----------
  Lock 1                  Extant
  Lock 2                  Extant
  Lock 3                  Extant
  Lock 4                  Extant
  Lock 5                  Extant
  Lock 6                  Extant
  Lock 7                  Extant
  Lock 8                  Extant
  Lock 9                  Extant
  Lock 10                 Extant
  Lock 11                 Extant
  Lock 12                 Extant
  Lock 13                 Extant
  Lock 14                 Extant
  Lock 15                 Extant
  Lock 16                 Infilled
  Lock 17                 Infilled
  Lock 18                 Infilled
  Lock 19                 Infilled
  Lock 20                 Infilled
  Lock 21                 Infilled
  Lock 22                 Infilled

Footnotes

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21]

[22]

[23]

[24]

[25]

[26]

[27]

[28]

[29]

[30]

[31]

[32]

[33]

[34]

[35]

[36]

[37]

[38]

[39]

[40]

[41]

[42]

[43]

[44]

[45]

[46]

[47]

[48]

[49]

[50]

[51]

title: Combe Hay Locks

question: What does the text say about 1805?

answer: In April 1805, the flight of 22 locks fully opened, and all had the same specification. The locks were half s wide of those on the connecting Kennet and Avon Canal, which means that two vessels from the Somerset Coal Canal could fit side by side. In the same year, a hairpin bend known as "Bull's Nose" was used to achieve the climb in the available area. Several specifications were used to achieve this.

question: Summarize the timeline of the first caisson lock?

answer: In 1796, the first proposed solution to overcoming the gradient was by the use of three caisson locks. Later in the same year, the construction of the first caisson lock began. Trials of the lock took place between November 1797 and June 1798. In 1799, a publication wrote that the system was so simple that a boat could traverse the caisson in just 10 minutes under the operation of a 12 year old boy.

question: What does the text say about the 1980s?

answer: In 1982, 10 of the extant locks, those in the Combe Hay parish, were given Grade II listed status. The survey for this listing found that the locks' ashlar retaining walls survive to a particular height, and some of the lower lock gates were still in situ. 1n 1984, another five locks of the flight, those in South Stoke parish, were also listed as Grade II. The survey found them to have a similar survival of the retaining walls, but some were described as being in poor condition. A milestone at this time was extant near Lock 4.

question: What does the text say about bankruptcy?


text:
There was a marsh that bounded part of the woods behind my house, on the edge of which, at high tide, Dad and I used to stand and fish for perch and minnows. Birds chirped in the trees and they’d clam up when the eagles came around. In some places, it was hard to walk. The forest floor was so slick and the swamp so full of trees that there was no way to tell where one stopped and the other ended. In consequence, when burly hunters stomped through the woods they sometimes found themselves knee-deep in slippery mud, as black as oil. That wasn’t us, we knew our way around. By trial and adaptation to the rhythm of the tides, it was like instinct for Dad and I. I knew every tree and every boulder; where the eagle’s nest was and the cave that sunk into the ground and filled up with water at high tide.

“You got the bait, boy?” Dad asked. I nodded my head and held out a tin can swimming with worms.

You might like to know something of his character. He was well-built, of middle stature, and quite ingenious. He could draw well, was a skilled musician, and he had a mechanical intuition too. But, his greatest attributes laid in his perfect understanding and solid judgment. He ran for town sheriff a number of times, winning twice. I remember frequent visits to our house by the mayor and other leaders who consulted him for his opinion in the affairs of the town, long after his service with the police department had ended.

We walked over the path of wood beams he’d made by hand to get across the marsh as the tide rose. The tide turned the ground around us into mush. Dad noticed some eddies and splashes a little ways out and said Son, I think there’s a big one out ‘ere today! And he smiled at me.

When we got to the pier he took to arranging the fishing line and we sat with our feet dangling over the water. There was an enormous splash some distance out. Wow! Dad said, and I looked up to him in awe, as if he hadn’t seen what I’d just seen. A frog ribbited in the swamp somewhere, and then we heard a *plunk* and it went quiet. Little ripples washed towards us, chopped up by the waterlilies and the cattails.

I lurched forward and I realized something bit down on my line. “You got one!” he said, and he helped me reel it in with real difficulty. We spun and spun the rod as hard as we could. The hook churned up the water around itself. The fish flapped about and swayed among the reeds. We thought it might be a catfish. I imagined myself posing with it for a picture, telling Ma, look at what I did!

I caught a water droplet with my eye. We pulled and pulled and pulled and soon it got real easy to reel in the line. I thought it was my dad’s strength. But soon we got it up above the surface, and the fish was gone. Nothing but a sliver of lip remained on the silver hook, and a cloud of blood muddied the water.

r/SamuelSwauger

title: [RF] Living in a Shadow

question: What is the mood the author is trying to evoke?

answer: Nostalgic, reminiscent