text:
he right use force to defend their freedom from tyrants or foreign invaders. This is certainly how the Lehr-und-Wehr Verein read the amendment. At the same time, courts of the era also interpreted the Bill of Rights to apply narrowly to the federal government exclusively; thus, the U.S. Congress could make no law infringing the right to bear arms, but the states could.

In May, 1879, Illinois did just that, passing the Militia Bill, sections 5 and 6 of which read:

  Sec. 5 It shall not be lawful for any body of men whatever, other than the regular organized volunteer militia of this state, and the troops of the United States, to associate themselves together as a military company or organization, or to drill or parade with arms in any city or town of this state, without the license of the governor thereof, which license may at any time be revoked….Provided, that nothing herein contained shall be construed so as to prevent benevolent or social organizations from wearing swords.

  Sec. 6. Whoever offends against the provisions of the preceding section, or belongs to, or parades with, any such unauthorized body of men with arms, shall be punished by a fine not exceeding the sum of ten dollars, ($10,) or by imprisonment in the common jail for a term not exceeding six months, or both.

The statute, with most of the same language (including the amusing bit about wearing swords), is still on the Illinois books today (See Sections 94 and 101 here; 130 years later, the original $10 fine has been increased to “not less than $20 nor more than $100”).

The 1879 Militia law was specifically aimed at armed socialists groups like the Lehr-und-Wehr Verein, the membership of which had grown dramatically since the Great Strike. While no reliable sources exist, the total number of Lehr-und-Wehr Verein members likely exceeded 1,000 at its peak, and may have been as high as 3,000. Verein members saw in the law’s provision for licenses granted by the governor an attempt by the state to monopolize the use of force, and to direct it against groups with little political power, especially workers.

On July 2, 1879, the new law was put to the test when a group of Lehr-und-Wehr Verein, led by their captain, Frank Bielefeldt, marched with arms through Chicago. Bielefeldt was arrested and charged with violation of the militia law. The case was heard in Cook County Criminal Court in late July, and Bielefeldt triumphed. The court held that the right to bear arms was an inherent, inalienable right, independent of any law passed in Illinois or elsewhere, and that arming oneself is “an unconditioned and undeniable right, militia or no militia.”

The Judge in the case also argued that, while the Second Amendment (and other aspects of the Bill of Rights) had not applied to state laws before the Civil War, this was no longer the case after the passage of the 14th amendment in 1868, the text of which reads (in part): “No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.” The right to bear arms being one of the privileges accorded to U.S. citizens by their constitution, the states were thus restricted from abridging that right.

The court further agreed with the socialists that the militia law unnecessarily politicized self-defense, arguing that the statute “empowers the Governor in the granting or withholding of licenses to make odious discriminations based on politics, religion, class interests, nationality, place or similar considerations repugnant to the genius of our institutions and subversive of constitutional equality.”

The case, which was decided 2-1, was a startling victory for the Lehr-und-Wehr Verein, and inspired the conservative Tribune to attribute to the decision epithets including “irrelevant” and “puerile;” nevertheless, its effect was to be short-lived. In the fall of 1878, the Illinois Supreme Court judged in a separate case that the Illinois National Guard, not the public at large, was the state militia; as a consequence, Governor Shelby Cullom announced that the militia law would be sternly enforced against the Lehr-und-Wehr Verein: no one but the militia would be allowed to parade with arms without the Governor's permission. However, since the ultimate question of constitutionality had still not been decided by the courts, the Lehr-und-Wehr Verein prompty offered an opportunity for them to do so.

On September 24, 1879, Hermann Presser, mounted on horseback, led a march in Chicago of 400 Lehr-und-Wehr Verein members carrying firearms. Presser was arrested, convicted in circuit court, and fined the statutory $10. The case was appealed to the Illinois Supreme Court, which confirmed Presser’s conviction, at which point the case was again appealed the U.S. Supreme Court.

The Court took its time, and did not hear oral arguments until 1885. In the mean time, the Lehr-und-Wehr Verein continued to hold meetings and drills, but did not march publicly without permission (in one instance in 1880, the Governor did grant permission to the group for a public display). The growing anarchist movement intertwined with the Verein’s membership, and many of the city’s foremost firebrands, including those advocating revolution, were members. One of the most zealous of the future Haymarket defendants, Adolph Fischer, was a member. The pages of the Arbeiter-Zeitung persistently urged workers to arm themselves, especially with dynamite, to assist in the coming war with the industrialist elite.

At the Supreme Court, former U.S. Senator Lyman Trumbull represented Presser, arguing in terms similar to those that had been issued in the earlier Bielefeldt case, a de-politicization of the militia:

  “To bear arms,” then in the constitutional sense, means to bear the weapons of civilized warfare, and to become instructed in their use. But this is drilling, officering, organizing; therefore, these are claimed to be part and parcel, of the same impregnable right, and placed by the supreme law of the land, beyond the reach of infringement by the provisions of any military code or, the precarious will, and license of whoever may happen to be Governor.

In January, 1886, the Supreme Court released its ruling in the case of Presser v. Illinois. The constitutionality or lack thereof of the Illinois National Guard, which had played a substantial role in the defense's case, was irrelevant, the justices argued; only sections 5 and 6 of the militia law, under which Presser was convicted, were relevant. Turning the Court’s attention to these sections, the decision affirmed that the Bill of Rights did not apply to state laws:

  We think it clear that the sections under consideration, which only forbid bodies of men to associate together as military organizations, or to drill or parade with arms in cities and towns unless authorized by law, do not infringe the right of the people to keep and bear arms. But a conclusive answer to the contention that this amendment prohibits the legislation in question lies in the fact that the amendment is a limitation only upon the power of congress and the national government, and not upon that of the state.

  …[T]he right of the people to keep and bear arms is not a right granted by the constitution. Neither is it in any manner dependent upon that instrument for its existence. The second amendment declares that it shall not be infringed, but this, as has been seen, means no more than that it shall not be infringed by congress. This is one of the amendments that has no other effect than to restrict the powers of the national government…

The Court further opined that states need the ability to regulate free assembly and firearm ownership in order “to suppress armed mobs bent on riot and rapine.”

After the ruling in Presser, the Lehr-und-Wehr Verein would never again exercise in public, and the anarchist movement in the United States went into the decline. Just four months later, the Haymarket riot led to the imprisonment (and, for some, death) of most of the city’s anarchist leaders. Coincidentally or not, the judge who presided over the trial of the Haymarket defendants was the one dissenting member of the panel that ruled in favor of the Lehr-und-Wehr Verein in the Bielefeldt case.

A decade after Presser, U.S. courts began developing the doctrine of “incorporation,” essentially the same argument as the Cook County Criminal Court made in the Bielefeldt case – that the 14th amendment implies that the Bill of Rights applies to state laws as well as to the federal government. Over the next hundred years, most of the Bill of Rights was so "incorporated," including the first amendment rights of freedom of speech, religion, and assembly, and the fifth amendment protections against double jeopardy and self-incrimination. Notably, however, the Supreme Court has never ruled that the second amendment applies to the states; hence, Presser v. Illinois is still a standard citation in cases throughout the country upholding local ordinances banning handgun ownership.

That is likely to change soon. The Presser case was recently denigrated as outmoded by Justice Antonin Scalia, writing for the majority in its ruling (see p. 48, n23) last summer against the Washington, D.C. handgun ban. That case, however, did not decide the question of whether the second amendment applies to the states since the District of Columbia is not a state. Nevertheless, barring unexpected changes in the Court’s membership, most observers expect a decision in the next few terms will extend “incorporation” to the second amendment. Will we then see a return of the Lehr-und-Wehr Verein?

Neff’s hall, where the Verein once met for their general assembly and military drills, still stands on Clybourn Ave. While the Verein were active, it was commonly used by anarchists to store dynamite and other weapons. It was frequented in particular by Louis Lingg, the most violent of the Haymarket defendents, who committed suicide in jail before his execution. Known as Thueringer Hall in the 1880s, the building was later home to a hosiery shop in the 1950s. Today, it appears to be vacant.

[Several of the quotes in this post (particularly the poem from the Arbeiter-Zeitung and the clippings from the defense brief in Presser) were found in Stephen P. Halbrook's Summer 1999 article in the University of Detroit Mercey Law Review, "The Right of Workers to Assemble and to Bear Arms: Presser v. Illinois, One of the Last Holdouts Against Application of the Bill of Rights to the States".]

question: What does the text say about Lyman Trumbull?

answer: Lyman Trumbull is a former U.S. senator who represented Hermann Presser in an appeal to the Illinois Supreme Court.

question: What does the story say about liability?


split: test

text:
BLACKLAND is a historically black neighborhood on the east side of Austin, Texas, located north of Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd, south of Manor Road, east of I-35, and west of Chestnut Street.[1] The neighborhood was originally known as BLACKLANDS and was settled by Swedish immigrants, but evolved into a predominantly African-American neighborhood following Austin's 1928 City Plan, which called for the relocation of non-white residents to the east side of the city. Up until the 1980s, the neighborhood was targeted for demolition to make way for an expansion of the University of Texas campus.[2] In 1983, the Blackland Community Development Corporation was formed to build, purchase and maintain housing for low-income families and special populations.[3]

History

Blackland was originally a farming community founded and organized in the 1800s by Swedish immigrants who settled in the area due to the rich, dark soil that was good for growing crops.[4] The neighborhood was originally known as “Blacklands”, named for the Blackland Prairie.[5] By the turn of the 20th century, much of the farmland in the neighborhood was developed with streets and houses, most of which were built far apart on large lots. In 1927, the city of Austin passed its 1928 City Plan, which mandated that social services such as schools and hospitals be made available to African-Americans, but only on the east side of East Avenue (present-day Interstate 35). Additionally, many neighborhoods in North and West Austin adopted restrictive covenants that prevented home sales to non-whites. These measures drove many African-American families to East Austin neighborhoods, including Blacklands.[6]

In the 1930s, the neighborhood's growing African-American population constructed new housing, often filling in the gaps between the neighborhood's existing far-apart homes built in the 19th Century. In the 1950s, blues musician Robert Shaw moved to the neighborhood and opened a grocery store and barbershop called the “Stop and Swat”.[7] By the 1960s, the neighborhood's name became known as “Blackland” and suffered from a lack of economic investment and disenfranchisement caused by racial discrimination.[8]

In 1965, the Texas Legislature granted the University of Texas Board of Regents approval to use eminent domain to acquire land for expanding the University. In the Spring of 1965, the University began buying individual parcels of land to the north, south, and east of the existing campus, including in the Blackland neighborhood, in hopes of using the land to relocate the University's intramural fields, baseball field, tennis courts, and parking lots.[9] Speculators bought much of the neighborhood's devalued property in order to sell it at a profit to the University. This led to cheaper rent for residents at the expense of deteriorating housing conditions.[10] The University Board of Regents focused on expansion eastward, as the east side's lower property values would lower the cost of acquisition. During the talks of annexation, the University and the City of Austin referred to Blackland neighborhood as the “Winn Tract” (named after an elementary school in the area), the “University East Project”, or the Eastern Renewal Area".[11]

In 1980, the University announced plans to annex all the land between I-35 and Chicon Street, nearly half of the Blackland neighborhood. In 1981, the Blackland Neighborhood Association was formed to protect the Blackland residents' property rights; the neighborhood association later regrouped as the Blackland Community Development Corporation (CDC).[12] Following 12 years of negotiations, the Blackland CDC and the University reached a compromise, which allowed the University to annex the land between I-35 and Leona Street to build the Red and Charline McCombs Field and other auxiliary buildings; at the same time, the University divested all of its previously-acquired property east of Leona Street back to the Blackland CDC.[13]

[1]

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title: Blackland, Austin, Texas

question: Why did most black families move to Blackland?

answer: Blackland used to be a farming community created by Swedish immigrants around the 1800s. The name Blackland was given to the area because its rich, dark soil which was great for growing crops. When the 1928 City Plan was launched, it became imperative that it was no longer legal to deny school places and hospitals to African-Americans in the east side of east Avenue where Blackland is. This law motivated African-Americans to move to East Austin neighborhoods, including Blackland.

question: What are the reasons behind the University of Texas' divestments of its Blackland properties?

answer: In 1965, the Texas legislature granted the University of Texas the use of eminent domain to acquire land for the university. This caused the university to start acquiring land in Blackland, hoping to use them to expand the university's sporting complex. Many speculators bought properties in Blackland for cheap so they could sell to the university at a profit. In 1980, the university renewed its effort to buy almost half of Blackland. In response, the residents of Blackland formed the Blackland Neighborhood Association, (later named Blackland Community Development Corporation - CDC), which was aimed at protecting the resident's property rights. After 12 years of negotiations the university and the CDC reached a compromise, allowing the university to annex some of its lands while, at the same time, divesting the some of the properties back to the CDC.


text:
The guy I’m staring at is wearing a suit and tie. It’s pretty early in the morning, and it’s not surprising at all that he’d be hanging out at Starbucks for a few before going into work. His jacket’s front pocket has a golden round pin stabbed into it like one of those thermometers you stick into a steak to see if it’s ready to eat yet. It’s almost obvious that he stuck it in there because he had to for some corporate reason. I don’t care about it enough to try to read what it says or to get close enough to be able to do so in the first place. I DO wonder what kind of job he might have though.

I actually often wonder about what kinds of jobs office workers really do. I know they sit at cubicles or offices and type and enter information into a computer all day but that’s about it. Come to think of it, so many people simply call themselves an “office worker” but almost no one can truly explain what it is that they do. Do they, themselves, not fully grasp the nature of their own work? Are they spending 8 hours of the day doing things that they can’t even fully comprehend just because they’re getting paid and because it’s more respectable than working in retail or customer service?

Yeah, probably.

I just realized that I had zoned out while fixated on the man’s tie. I should adjust my eyes to see if I’m still awkwardly staring at the guy, but it actually looks like he’s already gone. He left his cup on table, as most people do when they have somewhere better to be. I might as well walk over and check if it’s full or not.

Empty.

Tossing it into the trash, I’m noticing that it just became much more crowded in here than it was about a minute ago. This must be the apex of the early morning rush where people are all shuffling around each other trying to get their drinks before everyone else in the hopes that they can make it to work early THIS time.

There’s a guy with headphones on in the line. Not the kind of headphones that office workers wear that are discreet little earbuds with a tiny microphone on the cord that is mostly used for sneaking in phone calls while on the job, but the kind that you use when you’re a DJ. It’s not really surprising since tons of people use headphones like that now. It became a trend somewhere to wear huge, colorful headphones almost as a representation of what kind of music you’re listening to. He’s also wearing a relatively thick hoodie, cargo pants and boots. I wonder what he could be doing in this early morning rush. He’s obviously not an office worker, or maybe he is and he changes at work for some reason.

Nah, no one does that.

There’s a sense of pride that comes with wearing formal wear to work. You work for a place that prides itself on at least LOOKING professional so you might as well flaunt it all the way to and from so that people can tell you’re not just some nobody out and about for no particularly important reason. As I say that though, this guy in the hoodie looks to be in much more of a rush than anybody else in here to the point where his leg won’t stop fidgeting. Maybe he has a job that’s more important than most of the people in here that are suited up at the moment. Then again, what REALLY makes a job important or worthwhile? Is it the pay, the satisfaction, the impact it has on the environment around you, the security of a stable life for you and your family, the potential for danger to hundreds of people if you screw it up? Does a job have to be fulfilling to be important? What rank of importance does a bus driver have whose job is to, potentially, get people to their own jobs?

Oh someone spilled a coffee on one of the tables. Good thing it was iced. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to help her clean it up. She’s kind of pretty and dressed rather fashionably so I’m probably just helping her because I subconsciously believe in the 1/1,000,000 chance that she’ll interrupt her busy day to try to start a conversation with me.

I think she barely drank anything because I’ve used about 10 napkins already mopping this up. That sucks, having to throw away a fresh coffee like that.

Well she was either in a rush, or really embarrassed because looking up from this mess, I can see that she’s vanished. I didn’t even hear her leave, though, to be honest, I doubt I could have picked anything out in this mob of energetic, yet unenthused people. Oh well, 999,999 more chances to go, yeah?

How long have I been in here? It feels like it’s been hours, but I think in reality, it’s only been about an hour. That’s a lot longer than it seems when you keep checking your phone for the time every couple of minutes. It’s almost like time slows itself down for you the more you pay attention to it. Like if it’s shy to move any faster while you’re watching.

Oh, the barista lady is motioning for me to come to the back. They must finally be ready for my interview.

title: [RF] A Great Job

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: He's the guy at a Starbucks observing other patrons while waiting to get interviewed for a job.

question: Who was the first person the narrator noticed?

answer: He's staring at a guy wearing a suit and tie with a golden round pin stabbed into his jacket.

question: What does the narrator keep wondering about the other people he's observing?

answer: He keeps on wondering what other people do for a living if they're happy doing it, and how people measure the importance of a job.

question: How long has the narrator been waiting?

answer: About an hour.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is at a Starbucks waiting to be interviewed for a job. He observes other people while waiting, wondering where they work and what the nature of their job is. He wonders if these people are happy with their jobs, and how other people rank the importance of other people's jobs. After about an hour, he finally gets called for his interview.


text:
Duality

(second half is in the comments- it was too long for me to post up in one piece and I'm not cool enough to have a blog to post this on)

He must have fallen asleep. Suddenly awake, he sat up, the bed bobbed back and forth. Until he awoke he hadn’t realized that he was sleeping. He wondered if enlightenment was like that. Then he remembered his predicament, how the days just blurred together. White walls, white floors, white sheets, it all blurred together like foamy white bubbles, just white interrupted by more white. It all was beginning to feel normal now.

Even the nurse had white skin, white hair, white scrubs and a little white voice that innocently asked him, as it always did, “Are you going to get out of bed today Donald?"

Oh no, he knew what this girl-- parading around in white—was up to. He wasn’t insane in the ways they thought he was. He could see the truth through their lies. He could see everything. He saw her little white cap, her bleached white teeth, and her white little name tag that had the name Becky imprinted on it.

“Donald,” her voice sounded so sweet, so sincere, but even though her voice sounded sweet he knew it was salty, he knew it was the voice of a white lie. That was all it was. “Your daughter is here to see you. She’d really like it if you came and said hi to her.”

No, no, no! His daughter was dead. He knew that, washed away in the water, the terrible water. It took her away from him. Now with its white lies, with its feigned innocence, it wanted to take him to her, to the bottom of it all.

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

Alone and adrift, at first it’s a completely new experience, so open yet so confined. It felt like he had been lying in the raft for so long, it smelled of him, it was beginning to contour to his body. He looked out to see the little waves getting their tops blown off. They blurred together, one white cap after another, an unending sea of white broken waves. The salt from the ocean was all that was left behind as the sun evaporated the water from the raft, a powdery sheet of white. That colour had become his nemesis. Why did I have to wear a white shirt that morning? Even the sky was white, in every direction, like white walls boxing him in.

His thoughts were past the point of scaring him. He was becoming used to their frantic and panicked way of bounding around in his head, the same way they would in the head of a psych ward patient. Now dehydration felt like it was setting in, his dry mouth tasted like hospital food, like tap water. His thoughts were moving slower and slower, as if he was on some sort of mind numbing drug, but it was just the lack of water, the drying of his brain.

He wondered about his daughter, she had been with him. Was she safe now? As the cruise ship was sinking he had looked for her. That’s why he was stuck here on a second-thought life raft, it was the only thing he found floating when the ship finally left him.

Trying to remember more was like being in an unfamiliar city in bad weather, his mind was foggy and sluggish. “What’s my name?” he asked himself over and over. If only he could remember…

He looked down at his shirt. He still had his name badge on from the cruise check-in, “Mister Gray, that’s right. I’m Mister Gray”

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

Donald rocked back and forth in his white bed holding his knees to his chest, repeating what had been his mantra for as long as he could remember, “Can’t get out. Can't get out.” Salty tears streamed down his face, how much longer could he hold on?

The doctor looked as if he had done this every day of his life, leaning unenthusiastically against the solid white door frame, his eyes were focused on his iPhone instead of the white clipboard, “Donald, you can't stay in bed forever. It would be good for you to get up and stretch your legs for a bit."

Donald knew better. Just because his name tag said ‘Dr.’ on it didn't mean he could trust him. Oh no, he couldn’t trust this whitewashed liar one bit; no more than he could trust the rest of them. The doctor lied as boldly as his eyes did, telling him he was safe when he knew he wasn’t. Oh no, he wouldn’t give in…

“You’re not real. You just want me to get back into the water. You’re just tempting me to let go of it all! No! I won’t!”

The doctor sighed and slipped his phone back into the top pocket of his white coat, “Donald, look around. There isn’t any water in here. It’s an empty room. Until you come to grips with that, there is nothing anyone can do for you.”

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

The waves rocked his tiny boat back and forth. “Mr. Gray,” he muttered to himself, he felt the need to remember. “My name is Mr. Gray.”

Remember the boat? It was so beautiful, so big, amazing. Its white hull reflected the sunlight, it was so bright he had to shield his eyes at first, dazzling. It was the first time he had been on a cruise... and it definitely would be the last, whether he lived or not.

The cabin they gave him was small, plain. Just a room of white walls, a white bed, white pillows, it was so plain and boring. Then again, he would have to be insane to want to remain in that room for any waking moment on the cruise. Everything was outside of that room, a world so beautiful, full of colours, not boring, not white.

Sandy, his daughter, booked the whole trip. It would be their vacation, just for them. His girlfriend was upset about the whole thing, but this was his daughter, she would always be more important than any other woman in his life.

Seconds ticked by slowly, he felt like he was staring at a clock whose hands never moved. The sun beat down on him, a florescent white globe in the sky. Minutes seemed to stand still, with that same white light burning his skin. Did the hours even pass, or did they just hang in the air like the sun, burning holes into his psyche? He didn't know how much longer his mind could make it.

The cool, refreshing, water lapped at him asking, telling, demanding, him to take a dip in it, wash all that sweat off, get cleaned up. It would be safe, just try it. It tempted him.

In the distance he saw rippling black clouds, glimmering with lightning, like weasels in a plastic garbage bag striding towards him. They inspired fear, fear that made him think he may start seeing his life flash before his eyes.

He smiled to himself; they never mentioned this in the brochure. Never told you how unforgiving the ocean was without man-made comforts. They forgot to bring that up. Once you checked in, you didn’t get to choose when you checked back out, only the ocean did.

The waters were getting choppier and choppier, tilting the raft more and more. It was like they were trying to get his attention, telling him, warning him, about the task they were planning to undertake. Maybe this was the end of his cruise?

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

"I NEED TO STAY ON!" He yelled it, he thought it, it consumed him. The men were grabbing and pulling him to "bathe him", they said. But Donald knew if fell off it would be his end, he may never be able to get back on. They grabbed and pulled at him, with an erratic and unsuspecting rhythm.

White sleeves, white pants, white arms. He struggled against the colour. It tried to consume him, tried to wash over everything that was. In the struggle they were all becoming a sweaty white mess. He could taste salt as an arm brushed against his face. He could feel the cold sweat wash down his forehead and cheeks.

Then he felt a shockingly cold splash of water. He had known it was there, under all of this, the real daemon of this nightmare. The water got everywhere, down his legs and up his shirt.

That was when one of the male nurses shook his head and said with disgust, “He pissed himself again.”

They stepped away for a moment. One pulled out a radio and said something into it that Donald couldn’t hear over the heaving of his breath. The struggle had taken a lot out of him.

A moment of calm passed. Then, in through the white door frame stepped the largest black man Donald had ever seen. He billowed through gracefully, like a fog or a mist. With each step he seemed to glide, ominously, closer to him.

In the end, they ended up winning. There wasn't much he could do, except cling to his piss yellow and sweat drenched pillow for dear life.

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

Half drowned and dying of thirst. If that’s not irony...

It took all he had to crawl back onto the life raft. The yellow life vest was the only thing that kept him from sinking to the bottom. His arms were still wrapped tightly around it. They would probably leave an imprint on it forever. Mr. Grey wondered if it would make it to shore after he died out here. Could that be the last little thing he leaves an imprint on for the world to see?

He set the vest at the end of the raft, and then lay down, using it as a makeshift pillow. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing the cruise offered him, but right now any comfort helped keep him sane.

His lips were dry and cracked. Still, the irony was not lost on him, so much water, but his skin was drying out. He ran his tongue across his broken lips and tasted the salt and blood that was on their surface. He brought his hand to them and looked at the deep crimson that was left on his fingertips after touching them.

The rest of his skin was burnt to a cherry pink, it felt like he had been scrubbed down by hands that did a rough, sloppy job. His shirt was still white as ever though, as was that damned florescent sun that kept blazing down on him. He looked down to his name tag again, it had been bleached all white, the only way he could remember his name was from the white imprint that was left on it.

“Mr. Gray”, he muttered to himself.

He remembered driving to the ship with his daughter and his girlfriend. He didn’t like when they were together, they seemed to fight endlessly. But they needed someone to drop them off, she was the logical choice. The ride was a nightmare. They just kept yelling at each other, kept throwing insults back and forth. By the time they got to the ship it felt like he was about to snap.

His mind wandered again, back to the beautiful views from the ship. Now they seemed like only a dream, did he just make up how pleasant the whole thing was? From the ship the ocean seemed so peaceful, so calm. He never could have imagined it could become so chaotic and fierce. The turmoil that lay beneath its blue façade amazed him. That same turmoil also dominated him. He was at its mercy.

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

title: Duality (3100 words)

question: What does the story say about Mr. Gray's daughter?

answer: Gray's girlfriend and daughter can't get along with each other, and they have intense fights. Gray loves his daughter and thinks she's more important than his girlfriend. She arranged for a cruise for him and her together, leaving Gray's girlfriend behind. Gray's girlfriend drove them to the ship, fighting with his daughter all the way. Donald is likely Mr. Gray, and it seems that he lost his daughter to a storm on the cruise.

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

answer: As the story isn't fully finished here, the implications aren't fully clear. However, it seems that Donald Gray went on a cruise with his daughter Sandy, which pissed off his girlfriend. While they were on the cruise, a storm hit them, sinking the ship. Donald got on a life raft, searched for his daughter around the sinking ship, but he couldn't find her. He somehow survived, but the experience of surviving a sinking ship while losing his daughter caused him to lose his mind. Thus, Donald ended up in a psychiatric ward, delusional and extremely scared of anything related to water.

question: What does the story say about being stranded on an island?


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The end

title: [FN] Ornell's Adventure

question: What is the central conflict of the story?

answer: The narrator is in search of his brother, whom he believes is kidnapped by a group known as The Smiling Men. He sets out in search of his brother, enlisting the help of Aldo, an old friend. The search and the eventual confrontation with the leader of The Smiling Men are the main events of the story.

question: What does the story say about how to fight with swords?


text:
Ms. Johnson, I remember watching your baby everyday while you and your husband went out to work.
I remember having my red hair in a low ponytail.
I remember me wearing white clothing on with my brown sandals.
I remember everything up until now…
And now we both have lost everything because of you.

	It was a beautiful Friday morning, no one was home except for myself and the baby. After cleaning up in the kitchen, I remember hearing a cough coming from the basement. My initial thought was to get the baby and leave but strangely enough I did not. However, I did continue with whatever needed to be done with the house.
	For the next few days, this has continued until I spoke with your husband. Yes, this may seem strange and very disrespectful but your husband had deep secrets. He told me that a close friend of his was staying over for awhile until he gets a new place. The guy name is Riley. He’s a yellow skinned man, with high cheekbones, black curly hair, with dark brown eyes. Also, he smoked these skinny, black cigarettes. Although I was skeptical at first, I still decided that it was okay.
	But as days passed, I felt as if there were more eyes on me than usual. Paranoia has stricken me while being in that house. Unfortunately, it did not stop me from sleeping when being there. It was a Saturday afternoon, the house was silent. While I was on the couch, my mind was telling me something. As if it it knew something bad was going to happen. But I brushed the idea off and drifted off into sleep.
	Two hours later… I jumped from my sleep and saw two men standing before me. They both were wearing all black and they were both prepared for whatever was to come. The man on my left, was running full force ahead of me. My immediate reaction was to kick him dead in the nuts, then pick up the vase that is sitting on the coffee table and knock it upside his head. Quickly enough, I took a piece of the broke vase and proceeded to stab him in the right eye with it. Slowly enough, took his eyeball out of his socket. That is when I noticed that the other guy disappeared. I only had a few seconds to get the baby and get up out of there.
	I sprinted up them stairs, ran into the baby’s bedroom. I grabbed his baby bag that is always prepared in case of emergency and the baby. Popped opened that window, stepped out onto the balcony and jumped.
Luckily, we survived the jump and I was able to get up and run down the street. This run felt like eternity when in reality it was only two minutes that passed. One of my biggest regrets was looking back. Within a blink of an eye, a different man in all black tackled us onto the ground. The man on top of me and the baby had pinned us down to the ground. He turned around and signaled his men to come over. With that, I was able to raise my upper body up to see the baby. Although his eyes were closed he had this beautiful smile on him.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” I quietly screamed out. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and laughed. I started to tear up because I really thought I lost him. Nevertheless, when something good happens there is always the worst to come.
So, the man that chased us brought to this old 1970 black camaro. On the car it that had a bright orange spray paint mark on the passenger side door, and the car had these fresh rims. When first upon entering into the car, there was this light skinned, bald headed man who seemed to be his in late forties on the driver side of the seat. The only words he told me was, “buck up sweetheart it’s gonna be long a ride.”
Thank you Mr. Johnson, for bringing misery to us.

title: [NF] RUNAWAY PART ONE

question: Who is the document addressed to and why?

answer: The narrator is writing to Ms. Johnson, the wife of Mr. Johnson, who employs her to look after their baby. She is writing this letter because she has been kidnapped, and needs to tell her story. She holds both Ms. Johnson and her husband responsible.

question: Describe the ways in which the woman fights off her assailant.

answer: First, she kicks him in the genitals. Then she hits him over the head with a vase. Following this, she takes a shard of the vase and removes one of his eyes.

question: What does the narrator remember about Ms. Johnson?

answer: She remembers watching her baby every day while she and her husband were out to work. She remembers having a red ponytail. She remembers wearing white clothing on with her brown sandals.

question: What did Mr. Johnson do which caused disaster to fall on the narrator?

answer: He invited a man named Riley into the house. He had high cheekbones, black curly hair, yellow skin, and dark brown eyes. He smoked skinny black cigarettes. She was skeptical at first, but decided it was okay. Later on this man would lead to her getting kidnapped.


text:
'''Thiruvallur Veeraraghava Swamy Temple ''' (or VEERARGHAVASWAMY TEMPLE) is a temple dedicated to Hindu god Vishnu, located in Thiruvallur, Chennai Metropolitan City, an area and headquarters in Tiruvallur district in the South Indian state of Tamil Nadu. Constructed in Dravidian style of architecture, the temple is glorified in the _Divya Prabandha_, the early medieval Tamil canon of the Azhwar saints from the 6th–9th centuries AD. It is counted as one among the 108 Divya Desams dedicated to Vishnu. Vishnu is worshipped as Veeraraghava Perumal and his consort Lakshmi as Kanakavalli Thayar.

The temple is believed to be of significant antiquity and is believed to be initiated by the Pallavas of the late 8th century AD, with later contributions at different times from Thanjavur Nayaks. The temple has three inscriptions dating from the Chola period. The temple has a seven-tiered _rajagopuram_ (gateway tower) and enshrined within a granite wall. The complex contains all the shrines and Hritayathabhanasini, the temple tank, is located to the west of the temple.

The famous Goshala is maintained by the temple administration. People from various parts of the world come forward to donate to the Cowshed / Gosala .

Veerraghava Perumal is believed to have appeared to marry his consort Lakshmi in the place. The temple observes six daily rituals and three yearly festivals. The chariot festival and float festival, celebrated during the Tamil month of _Chittirai_ (March–April), is the most prominent festival of the temple. The temple is maintained and administered by the Hindu Religious and Endowment Board of the Government of Tamil Nadu.

Legend

_Markandeya Purana_ details the history of the temple. A sage named Salihotra had his hermitage in this place. He used to grind rice for a living and offered half of the flour to the seekers and used to consume the rest himself. He was an ardent devotee of Vishnu. To test his devotion, Vishnu appeared as a guest to him one day. He requested Salihotra to offer him food, which the sage did. The guest felt hungry and requested the sage to offer more food. The sage offered the other half portion of the flour which he used to consume himself. The guest asked a place to rest and the sage readily offered his hermitage. On arriving at the hermitage, the guest revealed his true form and blessed the sage.[1]

As per another legend, Vishnu appeared in the place to marry Lakshmi, who was born as the daughter of Dilipa, the king of Dharmasenapura. He appeared in the place and married her.[2] The place is also called Thiruevvul and Veshranniem.[3]

As per yet another legend, Shiva was not invited by Daksha, the father of Dakshyani and wife of Siva for a big yagna (sacrifice). Siva, in his anger, opened his third eye out of which Virabhadra was created. He was directed by Siva to kill Daksha and he followed his orders. Siva incurred _Brahmahatti Dosham_ on account of the execution. He was directed to the sacred tank of the temple to propitiate himself off the sins. The shrine of Siva in the form of Theertheswarar on the northern banks of the temple is believed to be place where Siva cleansed himself.[4]

History

[The Vellikizhamai Mandapam, made of blackstone] The temple is originally believed to have been built by the Pallavas during the 8th century. There are inscriptions dating back to the later half of the 9th century Pallava dynasty reign here. Local folklore claims that the temple is around 5000 years old. According to historian K.V. Soundararajan, the Rangantha temples in South India built during the 9th and 10th centuries have a systematic arrangement of subsidiary deities as seen in this temple along with the Appakkudathaan Perumal Temple at Koviladi, Sowmya Narayana Perumal temple at Thirukoshtiyur, Rajagopalaswamy temple at Mannargudi and Rangantha temple at Srirangapatna.[5] There are inscriptions in the temple from the period of Kulothunga Chola I (1070-1122 AD) indicating gift of 1000 _kulis_ of land by Tiruvenkatadeva to the temple. The inscriptions from the eastern wall of the Vahanamandap indicates gift of 130 pons of gold by Veera Raghava Sadagoppa Jiyar, the thirteenth seer of Ahobila Mutt to the temple during 1630-75. There are inscriptions indicating gift of lands to the temple during the reign of Ramadeva Maharaya (1620–30), Narasimha Deva, Vira Venkatapathi Rayadeva Maharayar and Sri Venkatarayadeva Mahakavi, Kulothunga Deva and Rajendra I. There are also inscriptions referring to the gift of lands for conducting various festivals by other kings in the region like Maduranthaka Deva, Sadasiva Maharaya (1542–1570), Rama Deva Raya (1617–1632) and Venkata III (1632-42).[6]

Most scholars believe that the major structures of the temple were built during 1409. There is an inscription on the Eastern wall in 1542 AD indicating grants to the temple by a private party.[7]

Architecture

[Festival deity] The temple is under administration of Ahobila Mutt. It has five tiered Rajagopuram (main gate). There are separate shrines for Kanakavalli, Ganesha, Alwars, Gajalakshmi Thayaar. Here, the Lord married Vasumathi the daughter of a king Dharmasena. There are also shrines to Ganesha, Gopalan, Nammazhwar, Chakrattazhwar, Andal, Vedanta Desika, Ramanujacharyar, and Lakshmi Narasimhar.

The presiding deity Veeraraghava swamy is in a recumbent position (called _Bhujanga sayanm_) facing east. His right hand blesses the sage Salihotra and left hand in gnana mudra preaches to Brahma. The Vimanam (pyramidal roof over the sanctum) is called Vijayakoti Vimanam as it is a symbol of victory against Madhukaidapas asuras who were killed by Vishnu. The Thayar is called Kanakavalli (also known by the name Vasumati) and her shrine is located parallel to the sanctum. There are shrines of Azhwars, Ranganatha and Hanuman located around the sanctum in the first precinct. The sacred tank is called Hrutatapanasini.

The presiding deity Veeraraghava Perumal is believed to cure diseases of his devotees and hence he is called “Vaithiya Veeraraghavan”. There is another legend that Lord Shiva got rid of his Brahmahathi Dosha after worshipping Vishnu in the place. There is a small shrine for Shiva in this temple premises.[8] The temple tank, Hritayathabhanasini, is located to the West of the temple and is believed to have medicinal effects.[9] There is an ornate four pillared black stone hall called _Vellikizhamai mandapam_ where the festival image of the presiding deities are displayed every Friday.[10]

Religious importance

Vishnu as Veera Raghavar is the presiding deity of the Veera Raghavar temple. He is also called Vaidya Veera Raghavar, in view of his ailment curing abilities. In this temple people submit small metal sheets with a specific human organ engraved on them as a request to god to cure the illness or problems with those organs. It is believed that those suffering from incurable diseases are cured if they worship the presiding deity. Devotees come here for marriage, progeny, and for relief from hardships. The water in the tank is considered more sacred than that of river Ganga. A dip in the tank is believed to relieve the devotee from sins he committed in thought as well as action. Abishekam, the sacred ablution to the presiding deity is done only with sandalwood oil. The temple is considered the Vaishnavite temple equivalent of healing abilities of the presiding deity to that of the Vaitheeswaran, the presiding deity of the Saivite Vaitheeswaran Kovil.[11] Thousands of devotees take a holy dip during new moon days and also pour molasses into the temple tank.[12]

The temple is revered in _Nalayira Divya Prabandham_, the 7th–9th century Vaishnava canon, by Thirumangai alvar and Thirumalisai Alvar.[13] The Azhwar has sung praise, imagining himself as a lady and Veeraraghava as his lover. The temple is classified as a _Divyadesam_, one of the 108 Vishnu temples that are mentioned in the book.[14] Many Acharyas have also written songs on the various forms of Bhaktavatsala in this Temple.[15] Ramalinga Swamigal is believed to have been cured off his stomach pain after worshiping in the temple. He glorified the presiding temple in his works in _Potri Panchangam_.[16]

Worship practises and festivals

[Festival deity] New Moon Day is auspicious for this Kshetram. During Fridays Thayaar will be taken to a separate mandapam for puja. Two annual festival are celebrated. Chitra Festival is also important here. Puliyodharai (Tamarind Rice), Dhadhyannam (Curd Rice), Pongal, Chakkarai Pongal, Vada, Adhirasam, Murukku are offered to Lord as Prasadam.

The temple follows the traditions of the Vadakalai sect of Vaishnavite tradition and follows _paancharatram aagama_. The temple priests perform the _pooja_ (rituals) during festivals and on a daily basis. As at other Vishnu temples of Tamil Nadu, the priests belong to the Vaishnavaite community, a Brahmin sub-caste. The temple rituals are performed four times a day: _Kalasanthi_ at 8:00 a.m., _Uchikalam_ at 12:00 p.m., _Sayarakshai_ at 6:00 p.m., and _Ardha Jamam_ at 8:30 p.m. Each ritual has three steps: _alangaram_ (decoration), _neivethanam_ (food offering) and _deepa aradanai_ (waving of lamps) for Veeraraghava Perumal and Kanakavalli Thayar. During the last step of worship, _nagaswaram_ (pipe instrument) and _tavil_ (percussion instrument) are played, religious instructions in the _Vedas_ (sacred text) and _Nalayira Divya Prabandam_ are recited by priests, and worshippers prostrate themselves in front of the temple mast. There are weekly, monthly and fortnightly rituals performed in the temple.[17]

During the Tamil month of _Chittirai_, Brahmotsavam, a 10-day festival is celebrated, the festival deity is taken in procession around the streets of the temple in different mounts each day and the float festival is celebrated on the last day. The other festivals associated with Vishnu temples like Krishna Jayanthi, Saturdays of Tamil month Puratassi, Navratri, Vaikunta Ekadasi and Vijayadasami are celebrated during the respective days.[18]

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title: Thiruevvul

question: Summarize the architecture of Thiruevvul.

answer: The temple has five tiered main gates. There are five shrines, each dedicated to different deities, in addition to other shrines. The presiding deity, Veeraraghava Perumal is featured prominently. There is a temple tank located west of the temple and its waters are believed to have medicinal qualities. There is also a four-pillared stone hall where the images of the presiding deities are displayed weekly. The temple is in the Dravidian style.

question: What does the text say about the total number of temples dedicated to Vishnu?


text:
[The Broadway Theatre.] [The town centre, with the 'village green' including water pump just visible to the right] CATFORD is a district of south east London, England, and the administrative centre of the London Borough of Lewisham. It is southwest of Lewisham itself, mostly in the Rushey Green and Catford South wards. The population of Catford, including the Bellingham, London neighbourhood, was 44,905 as of 2011.

The area is identified in the London Plan as one of 35 major centres in Greater London.[1]

History

Toponymy

[A map showing the Catford ward of Lewisham Metropolitan Borough as it appeared in 1916.] The name derives from the place where cattle crossed the River Ravensbourne in Saxon times.[2] It is also said that the name originates from all-black cats, associated with witchcraft, being thrown into the river to drown during the witch hunts.[3]

Catford was historically part of Kent until 1889, when it was absorbed into the new County of London, along with the majority of the present day London Borough of Lewisham. Catford covers most of SE6 postcode district. The area is identified in the London Plan as one of 35 major centres in Greater London.[4]

Governance

Catford is covered by the Rushey Green and Catford South wards in the London Borough of Lewisham.

Built environment

[John Betjeman reads William Horton's Petition to Save Lewisham Town Hall, 1961]

Early developments

Broadway Theatre is an art deco building adjoining the town hall. It is a curved stone structure decorated with shields and heraldic emblems and topped with a copper-green spire. It was opened in 1932 as the Concert Hall and is now a Grade II listed building. The interior is in art deco style. The last cinema in the borough (before the 2019 launch of Catford Mews) stood diagonally opposite the theatre until its closure in 2002. Catford also boasts a large Gothic police station. In 2006, a large blue pipe sculpture was unveiled outside Eros House, which was another former cinema (The Eros Cinema), and the Lewisham Hippodrome theatre.[5]

The 1960s and 70s had a considerable impact on the architecture of Catford. The old Town Hall of 1875, was replaced by the current Civic Suite in 1968, soon after the merger of the metropolitan boroughs of Lewisham and Deptford. Laurence House, where many of the Lewisham Council offices are housed, is on the site of old St Laurence's Church. The original Gothic C of E St. Laurence Church was located where Laurence House is today (known as the Catford Cathedral), but as part of the urban renewal of Catford in the 1960s, the church is now housed in a more modern style building 200 metres down Bromley Road. [The 1968 St Laurence Church]

In Rushey Green the old village water hand-pump from the 1850s survives.

At the end of World War II, the 188-bungalow Excalibur Estate was laid out in Catford, and by 2011 this was the largest surviving prefab estate in Britain. However, it is now planned that all but six of the prefabs will be demolished and replaced by new housing, although many residents voiced their opposition to demolition.[6]

Brutalist architecture

A few examples of Brutalist architecture survive including the Catford shopping centre and Milford Towers, designed by the architect Owen Luder in 1974. The design was to make it _the Barbican of the south_.

Architecture critic Ian Nairn praised Eros House, which is now Grade II listed as:

  A monster sat down in Catford and just what the place needed. No offence meant: this southward extension of Lewisham High Street badly wanted stiffening. Now there is a punchy concrete focus ('you know, that funny new building') both close to and at a distance, from the desolate heights of the Downham Estate, where it stands straight to the afternoon sun. Rough concrete is put through all its paces, front convex eaves on Sainsbury's to a staircase tower which is either afflicted with an astounding set of visual distortions or is actually leaning. Again, no offence meant. Unlike many other avant-garde buildings, particularly in the universities, this one is done from real conviction, not from a desire for self-advertisement. The gaunt honesty of those projecting concrete frames carrying boxed-out bow windows persists. It is not done at you and it transforms the surroundings instead of despising them. This most craggy and uncompromising of London buildings turns out to be full of firm gentleness.[7]

Current plans put forward by Lewisham Council are to demolish Milford Towers, as the estate has fallen into disrepair and the land can be better used to meet the needs of local residents.[8]

Landmarks

[The Catford Cat - a giant statue in Catford town centre, depicting a giant cat clawing at the Catford Centre sign.] Catford's most prominent landmark is the CATFORD CAT, a giant fibreglass sculpture of a black cat above the entrance to the Catford Centre. This is a small shopping centre, housing Tesco and Iceland supermarkets as well as other high street stores. There is a street market on Catford Broadway. Catford has several pubs and a variety of non-chain restaurants and cafes.

Catford's oldest pub is the Black Horse and Harrow and Karl Marx is reputed to have been an occasional patron. Between 1932 and 2003, Catford Stadium was a successful greyhound racing track, but was closed and then destroyed by fire in 2005[9] and ultimately demolished to make way for a new housing development.

The Catford Bridge Tavern is another heritage listed building close to the old dog track; this mock tudor pub burnt down in March 2015, but has since been refurbished and reopened in April 2017.[10] Nearby, is St Dunstan's College.

The area was once home to the Catford Studios, producing films during the silent era. Catford also used to have a cinema diametric to the theatre. Catford was also satirised in _The Chap_ magazine in a series called 'A Year in Catford' named after Peter Mayle's best-seller _A Year in Provence_. The magazine poked fun at Catford's mundanity.

Regeneration

Catford town centre

CATFORD is a priority area for regeneration in the London Borough of Lewisham.[11] Several key sites around the town centre have been identified for redevelopment - Milford Towers, Catford Dog Track, Catford Island, The Civic Centre, Lewisham Town Hall and The “Wickes” site have all been highlighted for significant change in the proposed CATFORD PLAN.[12]

Previous attempts to regenerate Catford have been hampered by various complex issues such as the number of different landowners in and around the town centre. However, in 2010, as a sign of commitment to ensuring a regeneration of the area, the Council seized upon the opportunity to buy Catford Shopping Centre, thereby giving it greater influence over future plans.

The council's aspiration is for the complete redevelopment of the Catford Centre and Milford Towers, which would require demolition of both plus the car parks and associated buildings along Thomas Lane. Lewisham Council are currently working towards a target vacant possession date for the site of late 2015, although this is subject to many factors, including identifying a deliverable scheme, and agreeing commercial terms with the key parties who are, or will be, involved in the redevelopment of the site.

Catford Broadway

Catford Broadway and Catford Market already play a significant role in terms of the local economy. The Council hopes to make substantial changes to the town centre as a whole and, in order to facilitate this, Catford Shopping Centre may close for between one and two years.

In 2011, the Council successfully obtained £125,000 from Round 1 of the Mayor of London's Outer London Fund to develop designs and carry out feasibility surveys to explore how Catford Broadway could provide a better environment for businesses, residents and shoppers. The results of this work formed part of a bid for further Outer London Fund money, and in January 2012 it was announced that just under £1.5 million has been allocated to carry out a series of improvements. The council is providing approximately £600,000 in match funding.

Transport

Rail

Catford is served by two railway stations, Catford and Catford Bridge. Catford is provides the area with Thameslink services to Kentish Town, London Blackfriars, Orpington via Bromley South and to Sevenoaks via Bromley South and Swanley. Catford Bridge is served by Southeastern services to London Charing Cross, London Cannon Street via Lewisham and to Hayes.

Buses

Catford is served by many Transport for London bus routes.[13]

Road

Catford's main road is the A205 South Circular which crosses South London, running from Woolwich in the east to the junction of the A406 (North Circular Road), the M4 and the A4 at Gunnersbury in the west.

Proposed transport links

Bakerloo line extension

It has been highlighted in the Network Rail Route Utilisation Strategy that there should be a capital infrastructure development in the medium term of developing the Bakerloo line from Elephant & Castle through to Catford. This programme of work is known as the Bakerloo line extension and could start as early as 2020.

Docklands Light Railway extension

Transport for London (TfL) are currently considering the extension of the Docklands Light Railway from Lewisham to Bromley, with the first phase being from Lewisham to Catford. So far TfL have not expressed a preferred route, provided detailed plans, or indicated costs and funding. Lewisham Council has suggested that any route should be underground to reduce physical and visual impact.

Education

Local authority maintained schools

The local council maintains Conisborough College and Greenvale School.

Independent schools

Catford has two independent schools, St Dunstan's College and a small faith school, Springfield Christian School.

Parks and greenspaces

River Pool Linear Park

The walk follows the River Pool downstream from the Ravensbourne River. The banking has been planted with native trees and shrubs, herbaceous planting, wild flower grassland and wetland marginal planting. The park forms part of the Waterlink Way which forms a significant section of the river from Sydenham to the Thames.

Unlike many of London's rivers, the Pool remains above ground for most of its length. The section of river flows through a linear park from Southend Lane to Catford Hill.

Mountsfield Park

In the 1920s, Charlton Athletic played at The Mount (stadium) in the park. The Council holds its annual People's Day event here in July.

Ladywell Fields

The park consists of three fields with a river running through them, and is next to University Hospital Lewisham. The middle field contains one of the last established rare Dutch Elm trees in London.

Iona Close Orchard

Iona Close Orchard is a preserved Victorian garden. In common with most old orchards, the site is of high nature conservation value. The houses to which it originally belonged dated to about 1825.

Sport

Facilities

The 20-acre Jubilee Ground is operated by St Dunstan's College.

Catford Stadium was one of the greyhound racing venues in the UK until its closure and subsequent demolition in 2005. It also hosted boxing and several other sporting events.

Local sports teams

Catford has a Non-League football club Lewisham Borough F.C. who play at the Ladywell Arena.

Kent County Cricket Club have played at Catford several times in the past.

The Catford Cycling Club[14] was founded in 1886. In 1894 they built their own track south of Brownhill Road with a pagoda grandstand. By the 1950s the majority of the track had been built over but the club still exists.[15]

Notable locals

-   Joe Gomez (footballer), defender for Liverpool F.C. Born in Catford.
-   Lieutenant George Arthur Knowland, British Army officer and recipient of the Victoria Cross.
-   Captain William Colbeck (seaman) (1871 -1930), Antarctic explorer, lived in Inchmery Road. His sons went to St Dunstan's.
-   Sir Henry Cooper, British heavyweight boxer came from the area.
-   Spike Milligan (1918–2002) the comedian and writer went to school at Catford's Brownhill Boys' School and often visited the suburb where his aunt and uncle lived. He claimed to have lived in Catford and wrote about the area in his books and sketches. In reality he lived in nearby Honor Oak.
-   Ben Elton, comedian and writer, was born in Catford in 1959.
-   Leslie Dwyer, actor, was born in Catford .
-   Ernest Christopher Dowson, poet and decadent lived and died in Catford. Dowson introduced the phrases 'Days of wine and roses' and 'Gone with the wind'.
-   Anthony Jones, art photographer lives in the area.
-   Andy McNab, former serviceman in the Special Air Service (SAS) and writer was born in Catford
-   Maxwell Confait, Colin Lattimore, Ronal Leighton and Ahmet Salih. See The Murder of Maxwell Confait.
-   Ethel Le Neve.[16]
-   Frank Pullen, the property developer and racehorse owner was born in Catford and opened the first of his shops on Catford Broadway.
-   Henry Forster, 1st Baron Forster - Forster Park is named after him
-   Bernard Sunley, property developer and philanthropist, born in Catford in 1910
-   Jem Karacan, Turkish international footballer
-   Robin Trower, Guitarist, Procol Harum, and extensive solo career.
-   Lucy Mangan columnist for The Guardian newspaper claims to have lived in Catford for thirty years.[17]
-   Jak Airport, guitarist of punk band X-Ray Spex and new wave band Classix Nouveaux, was born and raised there.
-   Jacqui McShee, folk singer and co-founder of Pentangle.
-   Japan (band), 1980s new wave band. Vocalist David Sylvian, bassist Mick Karn, drummer Steve Jansen and keyboardist Richard Barbieri all grew up in Catford and attended Catford Boys School.
-   Alexander McQueen, fashion designer was born in Lewisham
-   Robert Stanford Tuck, Second World War fighter ace.
-   Ray BLK, British singer and songwriter.

Geography

Other nearby areas

-   Lewisham
-   Brockley
-   Ladywell
-   Bellingham, London
-   Downham
-   Grove Park
-   Lee, London
-   Sydenham
-   Forest Hill
-   Beckenham
-   Bromley

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13] TFL Bus Route Map from Catford

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

title: Catford

question: Summarize the events of the 1960s.

answer: The 1960s had an impact on Catford's architecture. The Old Town Hall was replaced by the Civic Suite in 1968. As part of the urban renewal of Catford in the 1960s, the church was housed in a more modern style building.

question: What does the article say about the historical figures Catford is named after?

question: Summarize everything relating to entertainment.

answer: The Broadway Theatre, an art deco building, adjoins the town hall. The last cinema in the borough stood opposite the theatre until it closed in 2002. Eros House was also a former cinema. The area used to be home to Catford Studios, which produced films during the silent era. Catford Broadway plays a significant role in the local economy. Some locals in the entertainment business include Spike Milligan, Ben Elton, Leslie Dwyer, Ernest Christopher Dowson, Robin Trower, Jak Airport, Jacqui McShee, the band Japan, and Ray BLK.


text:
found this on my google drive from a couple years back - enjoy!

My name is Red, and back couple weeks ‘go I was in one of them fancy two story houses, because my daughter’s getting married to the boy who lives there. Name’s Derek . Total sissy city boy name if ya’ ask me.
Anyway, I was pickin’ him up to give ‘er a little experience, if you will, in the Alabama outback. Go on I little huntin’ trip with the fella, get to know him a little better. You know, see if he’s inta bud light or NASCAR. Anyway, we was on our huntin’ trip and, he was a complete novice to it. Didn’t know how to load, reload, and cock his shotgun and whatnot. Scared of the critters. But, that’s expected. He’s not from round these parts, how should he know how to work a gun?
However, on the third night, He went full retard. You never go full retard. You see, when you go hunting, you eat your food in a bin at the food site, which is away from the sleepin’ site, so you don’t attract them coyotes and bears to yourself in the middle of the night. Now I may be no professor, but Derek was stupid enough to bring a little bedtime snack to the sleepin’ site.
And by a little snack, I mean our total food supply.
So, I woke up the next mornin round dawn. Stepped outside my tent, and saw wrappers, packages and cardboard boxes everywhere. Them critters ate our food supply!
“What in the name o’ the lord has gone on here!” I shouted. Threw my crimson tide cap on the ground.
“W-Whats all the ruckus?” Murmured Derek
“Dagnabbit  boy, all our foods gone!”
“Sorry, I thought I would get hungry in the middle of the night” Derek was getting on the defense, as if he were mister innocent.
“Well, looks like we got ourselves some huntin’ to do. You know, get ourselves a little food.”
Derek began to look around.
“oh no need for that, I found some mushrooms here! Mmm theyre good!” Derek stuffed his face with some mushrooms he found at the base of a tree
“Boy! What in hell has gotten in your head? Those could be magic mushrooms, son! They’ll have you seein sounds and hearin colours!” it was too late. Derek had already swallowed a mouthful. If they were some of them magic mushrooms, I’d give ‘em 20 minutes to kick in.
Anyway, there was no time to waste. Critters be stirrin up round this time o’ day, and we had to get to huntin’. Didn’t give Derek a gun, might be scared of it after them mushrooms. So, I told him to stick close behind me, and stay quiet.
We was walkin around for about 10 minutes, then I saw it. The most perty White deer buck I ever did see. Would look great mounted on the wall at home.
“Steady boy,” I said quietly “we got ourselves a big one here.”
“NO STOP! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOUR DOING?”
The deer was startled, and ran away.
“Dagnabbit boy, he got away!”
“But you were about to shoot that-”
“I know, that dee-”
“Unicorn! We were probably the first to ever see one!”
Yep, they were magic mushrooms.
I gave the boy a slap on the face, you know, try to get his senses all together. It was 5:30 in the morning. Told him to run a couple lengths long the river. Still high. Told him to o some pushups, sweat it out of him. still high. Told him to take a nap, sleep it out. He woke up high. It was 5:45 at that point. This was gonna be a long day.
We were alking through the pine. He was quiet. Maybe the effects were startin’ ta wear off.
“The trees are telling me to save them from the bad lumberjacks.”
Nope, still high.
I was starvin’ by this point. The only way we could get food was to get back to the pickup and drive onto the interstate, go to a taco bell r somthin’. Only problem was, I was too busy keepin Derek in line to remember to retrace my path.
I was lost in the Alabama wilderness. Just me, Jesus Christ, and Derek, who was higher than the vocal tone of Michael Jackson, alone in the forest.
Then I remembered, he had one of em fancy cell phones most of the city folk have.
“Hey Derek, grab your cellphone. Try to make a call.”
Derek looked at me, startled. Keeping eye contact with me, he slowly put his hand in his pocket for his phone. But, instead of his phone, he grabbed his wallet, and put it to his ear.
“Hello? My name is lost. We are woods in the Derek!  Thankyou. Goodbye. Uh, my wallets out of battery I can’t make a call”
we were hopeless. Not only was I starving, tired and sunburnt. But Derek kept sayin the dumbest shit id ever heard.
“Seals are just dog-mermaids”
“Yes Derek, that’s right”
“WATCH OUT!”
“What? What is it boy?” I ducked and covered my head.
“You just stepped on a small bus.”
I rolled my eyes and got up. As I put my hand on my leg, I felt something in my pocket. It was a compass! I pulled It out. We were facin southwest. The interstate was east of the forest. It was gonna be a long walk out of there. I grabbed Derek and told him to follow me.
	Eventually I blocked out Derek to stay sane. He would randomly shout, telling me to ‘get out of the way of that octopus’ and ‘watch out for the swamp monster in front of me.’
	We were coverin some distance. Must’ve been walkin east for 45 minutes now. I was tired, dizzy, hungry thirsty.
	“The ocean! I see the ocean! We might just make it Wilson. I would rather take my chance than stay on this shithole island.”
	I looked to where Derek was pointing. It was no ocean, but it was a creek. I could get me some water, get me some energy. Derek came along with me
I kneeled into the creek, spleashe my face with water, drank tons. Derek was walking along the of the creek, doin whatever it was he was doin. I heard a loud thump. I looked over, and Derek was lyin down, head on a rock.
	“Slip on a small bus?” I joked
I walked over to Derek. This was no joke. He was lyin unconscious, blood comin out the back his head. I panicked, yelled for help. Then I realized, he probably had his cellphone! I searhed his pockets. Nothin. I went thorugh his backpack.
	“body cream, moisturizer, what is this kid, a fag?”
then I found sumthin. Looked like a big bulky brick with numbers on it. I read the label on the back:
SATELLITE CELLPHONE.
Hmmm, must be his cellphone. I looked at it. Pressed the 911 numbers. Nothing happened. Didn’t hear voices comin out. Then I saw a green little phone button. Reckoned since green means go, it meant go little people in the phone, go!
I heard a voice on the other side.
	“911, whats your emergency?”
	“HELLO, CAN YOU HEAR ME?” wanted make sure the people in the phone knew I was there.
	“Yes, I can hear you, whats your emergency?”
	“Im in the middle o’ the damn forest, my son in law hit his head now I think he dead!”
	“middle of the forest? Ok, we’ll track your co-ordinated and have a helicopter come pick you up.”
	Little voice in the phone was gone. I put the phone away.
	“Cordates? What in the hell did she just say.”
	Waited about 20 minutes, heard a helicopter comin. It landed in an openin between the trees, picked us up. Put Derek in one of them stretchers. Helicopter took us to a road, where one of them ambalampses was waitin’. We drove off on the windin road, into the foggy interstate.
The ambalamps folk told me Derek was gonna be fine.
I knew he would, probably too high to die anyway.

title: [HM] Magic Mushrooms - Written for my grade 10 writing course exam

question: What does the text say about the narrator?

answer: The narrator's name is Red. He goes camping with his son-in-law, Derek. Derek is terrible at hunting and camping in general. He loses all their food. He panics and eats "magic mushrooms" while Red urges him to help him look for animals to hunt. Derek keeps getting in his way because of how high he is from the mushrooms.

question: What does the text say about Derek?

answer: Derek is Red's son-in-law who is forced to go on a hunting trip with him. He is terrible at camping or hunting. He manages to lose all their food source and in a state of panic, he consumes magic mushrooms he saw on the ground. He then spends the rest of the trip high.

question: Explain how they got found their way out of the forest.

answer: Red finds a phone in Derek's things after he is knocked unconscious. He calls for help and a helicopter arrives at their location. They both make it out just fine.


text:
“Do you really think he’s in there?”  I shouted to Mkente as I unsaddled my bag.
“I believe so,” he said. “If you’re going to catch the wild Floofapootamus, he will be in here.”
“Good,” I said as I ventured into the dark cave. There were bats hanging on the ceiling, and one swooped down inches away from my face, looking more like a flying goblin then a bat. His face was gnarled and wicked, and he shrieked like nails on a chalkboard. Now my heart began to pound wildly, and I knew this trip would not be easy. Unfortunately, I had no choice, for it was my destiny to meet the wild Floofapootamus.
After about ten minutes of hiking through the forest of stalagmites, we came across the river of the Watamug. Legend has it that the vicious Watamug roams these shallow waters, and the only way to protect yourself from it is to shoot with an arrow. This arrow has to be covered in snake venom and has to pierce the Watamug through the nose. If you fail, you will be torn to shreds. If you succeed, the arrow will exit the nose encased in solid gold, and you will be allowed to pass. I took a poisoned arrow with me just in case, but Mkente thought I was being superstitious. Right as I loaded my arrow, a noise came from down the river. It sounded like gravel being crushed into pieces, and was so hideous I covered my ears. As I looked up from my loaded bow, I saw the most hideous thing in the world. It looked like a giant catfish walking on hairy spider legs, 14 of them to be exact. Its snout was only about 1 foot, so I would have to aim well from 10 meters away, where I was. The Watamug raised its upper body like a cobra raises its head, and hissed at me. Mkente screamed as this happened, and the Watamug turned to see where the noise had come from. I knew this was my only chance. I fired at his nose and the arrow went right through, coming out the other side as yellow as the sun. The Watamug collapsed, and I yanked the arrow from its head. The arrow was at least 4 pounds heavier than it had been before, and I was sure it would be worth thousands. I stuffed it into my backpack as Mkente and I leaped across the glistening creek, still shaking from our recent encounter.
“I have a question for you,” Mkente said.
“And?” I replied.
“Why are we going all this way just to see a Floofapootamus?” he questioned.
“I need to catch this Floofapootamus. It’s my destiny,” I answered. “I’m sure you know the legend of the Floofapootamus,” I said as we winded our way through the damp, rocky tunnels.
“Of course,” said Mkente. “Whoever severs its horn and plays it will be able to ask for anything, and it will be given to them by the gods of wisdom.
“Yes!” I said. “And I need something very important, for I believe it will give me limitless power.”
“What is it?” replied Mkente.
“I can’t tell you, for then I won’t be able to receive it.” I said.
All of a sudden a large rocky alter rose from the ground with a thunder-like rumble and made a loud bang as it clicked into place.
“ARE YOU HERE TO SEE THE FLOOFAPOOTAMUS?” it boomed.
“Um…yes.”  I said. “I am on a mission to ask the gods the ultimate question.”
“OKAY, BUT FIRST YOU MUST PROVE YOU ARE WORTHY AND COMMITED. PLACE THE GOLDEN ARROW ON THE ALTER AS PENNANCE TO THE GODS,” it echoed.
“No way!” yelled Mkente. “That’s got to be worth at least $10,000!”
“WOULD YOU LIKE TO QUESTION THE GODS, OR HAVE MONEY?”
“Let’s just give him the arrow,” I said as I handed it over.
“GOOD,” the voice boomed. “YOU ARE WORTHY.”
The alter then descended back through the floor of the cave and disappeared as soon as it had come. Mkente and I continued on, unsure of what we would encounter next in this mysterious cave. We were now tired, hungry, and out of weapons.  We found an outcropping on the wall by which we could put our tent, so we decided to set up camp for the night. We straggled to build our tent lit by only a torch, and when we were finished we fell asleep immediately. It had been a long, adventurous day.
I woke up to the shrill noise of a scream. I jumped into the air immediately and looked around our small canvas tent. Mkente wasn’t there.
“Mkente! Mkente! Where are you?”  I screamed as I unzipped the tent and looked
Around. I heard another scream, this time coming from about thirty feet up the path. I ran all the way as fast as I could only to find something horrific-Mkente dangling by one hand on the edge of a humongous pit in the floor.
“Mkente!  Are you okay?” I questioned as I pulled him up from the edge of the pit.
“Yea, I’m fine,” He said in his peculiar, thick accent. “I have no idea what happened. One second I was looking around looking for firewood, the next I’m hanging for my life.”
“I’m just glad no one got hurt,” I said. “However, I have no idea how we’re going to cross that pit,” I explained to Mkente.
“I wonder how deep it is,” he replied. Then, suddenly, a slimy tentacle slithered out of the pit.
“Wha…? What is that?” said Mkente shakily as more and more of the hideous creature rose out.
“I have no idea,’ I said. “But it doesn’t look good.”
Just as I said this the rest of the creature crawled out.  It was a cuddly teddy bear-with 40 foot long tentacles.
“It’s the Floofapootamus!”  I screamed as I drew my sword. Its single horn stood erect 10 feet in the air, and I had no idea how I was going to cut it off.  The Floofapootamus leaned over and growled at me, obviously furious that I had interrupted its sleep.  It lashed a tentacle out at Mkente, and he was hurled 40 feet where he landed with a crash in a pile of bones. It leaned over again, this time to get a better look at its new enemies. I realized this was my chance.  I ran full speed to the edge of the pit…and jumped. I leapt as high as I could and latched on to the stuffed animal’s leg. It howled a yell that was the scariest thing I had ever heard, and then started trying to shake me off. Unfortunately for the Floofapootamus, I was already hacking away at its horn. It opened its mouth and I gazed into a hideous cavern spiked with crooked teeth, ready to eat me at any moment.  Just then I tore off its horn, but the weight of it in my hands threw me into the beast’s tentacle, which promptly threw me into the skeleton pit where Mkente was lying unconscious. I tried to shake him awake, and he began to come to. However, the Floofapootamus was reaching one of its tentacles out at us.  I knew what I had to do. I propped the gigantic horn against a stalagmite and blew as hard as I could. YMCA by the Village people then began blaring from the opposite side and the Floofapootamus froze, its eyes glowing bright green. In a deep voice it moaned, “What do you ask of me?”
I knew exactly what to say. “With my one wish, I demand a sitar.”
“What, are you crazy!” shouted Mkente. “You could have anything, and you think a sitar will give you limitless power!”
“Just wait!” I yelled.  A sitar began to materialize in my hands, and I just basked in the joy of the moment for a minute.  I was living my destiny. The Floofapootamus was beginning to recede back into its hole, but I strummed a Rajastan folk song on the Indian instrument. The Floofapootamus instantly rose again, this time its eyes gold.
“You are wise,” it said. “And clearly worthy. You have discovered my secret, and I am now at your command”
As Mkente stared in awe, I climbed on top of the beast’s back.
“To McDonalds!”  I yelled as the beast lumbered out of the cave, leaving Mkente behind.
“Wait!” he yelled. “You can’t leave me!”
“Yes, in fact I can,” I stated. “You doubted the magic of the sitar,” I proclaimed as we went off to get Happy Meals.

title: Wrote this at age 10...WTF IS WRONG WITH ME?!

question: What is the nature of the narrator's quest?

answer: The narrator is attempting to remove the horn of a beast called the Floofapootamus. Whoever severs this horn will be able to ask for anything they want. The narrator succeeds in this task and asks for a sitar, stunning their companion. However, with this sitar the narrator is able to command the Floofapootamus to do whatever he wants it to, and rides the beast to McDonalds.

question: Summarize everything related to the gold arrow.

answer: The gold arrow emerges from combat with the Watamug. In order to defeat the Watamug, one must shoot a poisoned arrow through the nose, which will emerge as solid gold. Upon getting the golden arrow, the old gods appear to the narrator and demand that they sacrifice the object. The narrator's companion objects, but the narrator does so and is found worthy.

question: What is the nature of Mkente's personality?

answer: Mkente is skeptical of the narrator's goals. He also asks the narrator many questions. It is clear that Mkente knows less about the adventure and the monsters encountered than the narrator does. Mkente needs to be rescued by the narrator, and does not understand the purpose of the quest to obtain the sitar. Ultimately, the narrator abandons Mkente.