text:
As the red rays of the sunset cast themselves on the forests shrubbery, as if veiling the scene with a bloodied lace, I was sitting in the shade of my trunk, scrubbing my fingers on the rough bark in anticipation. It was chilly as winter was at the doorstep and I needed to begin preparing for my slumber.
The creeping approach of the townscape into my domain had made it easier for me to sleep cozily during the cold months, paving the so comfortable roads and streets to my very doorstep.
The sun would set early in my domain and the dark would last a good deal longer than the day, such luxury however did not come without a price, as the nights were cold and winter was savage.
I did not wait for the red of the sky to completely disappear in the horizon as my walk was long and I prefer to have as much hours of darkness at my hands as I can.
I stepped out of my cozy hole and felt the moist grass and soil at my bare feet. The chill of the nearly frozen earth had irritated me and I began my journey.
The road - cracked and unkempt - was as expected quiet. In the distance I could see the houses lying on the outskirts of the town, they were numerous and that made me feel comforted. I was walking slowly, pacing easily as to not cut my feet on the deep cracks of the asphalt, but I was in no hurry. I like taking my time in what I do.
As the last of the crimson veil was disappearing winds began to blow, rustling all the leaves and plants around the narrow road. It was getting colder and I picked up my pace to keep warm. I could hear barking in the distance, yard dogs of the residents I was about to visit, they would always bark as I approached – as if sensing me from great distance.
Darkness now engulfed my way entirely, and as I was walking under the cover of the black blanket I could see lights beginning to appear in the windows of the homes ahead.
Dinners were being made and eaten, children would now rush back home to get there before their parents would begin to worry, strays would wait near trash cans in anticipation to the generous feast of leftovers they would soon indulge in, a community of clockwork it was, beautifully orchestrated.
I turned off the road and back into the cover of the forest, light from the town was sufficient to illuminate the road at this point. I had already decided where I was going tonight.
I walked fast, fueled by excitement, through bushes and thick growths, on my way to the light my gaze had been fixed on from the moment it had gotten dark. The barking was making me annoyed and I could not wait to be back at my warm trunk.
I kneeled and slowly began to creep through the bushes towards the shared border between the forest and the residence, sticking only my head through at first, to catch a feel of what I had been working for.
Street lights were scarce and I could sneak without being seen if I kept my head down below the windows level. I slowly began to approach my destination, looking from side to side to make sure there are no dogs watching.
I walked next to a window that had the lights turned on and peered through. It was too early an hour for the residents to be asleep, but their wakeful presence did not worry me.
Through the window I saw a room, the room I had already once seen before, when I had decided to come back here.
The walls had been painted a delicate blue hue, little clouds and birds were tastefully scattered about them. There was a bunk bed in the side, it too was painted blue, a slightly darker hue than the walls. A large white closet was taking up the entire wall to the right, a single drawer open at the bottom. Near it sat a boy, playing with a toy truck.
I stared at him, waiting for an eye contact.
I made my presence clear to him, I wanted him to feel that I was looking.
He stopped playing with his truck and slowly turned his rosy face to me.
I looked into his eye, and started opening the window. He would not move unless I told him to.
I signaled him to close the door as I climbed through his bedroom window.
Standing there, I signaled him to come closer. He came to me and stopped, looking at my face with an affectionate gaze. I touched his face with my palm and sniffed his hair, then I signaled him to get undressed.
He took off his matching gray pajama shirt and pants and folded them on his bed.
I grabbed him under the armpits and helped him through the window, waiting for him to sufficiently distance himself into the forest before I climbed out myself.
I looked from side to side to see if any dogs were looking, and as I felt safe I guided him into the bush I came from.
I put my hand on his shoulder and guided him forward through the thick growth, making sure he would not fall or injure himself in the darkness engulfed woods.
We would not use the road, it was best to remain hidden.
After a long and quiet walk I pulled on him to stop. We were home, and I began to prepare for my sleep.
I sat him on the ground and pushed his head down into it, all the while examining his body for a suitable way to do this.
Without hurry I approached my trunk and climbed inside to find a tool I had once stolen from one of the houses. Once I had it in my hand I climbed back out.
I stepped towards the boy, approaching him from behind. Preparing the tool in my hand, I held him firmly to the ground.
I placed the tip of the tool to his back and began to press. As it had pierced the delicate skin on his body I became excited.
I cut him slowly, not to hurt anything vital.
His skin was of no use to me and I merely cut it off, anticipating the more goodly tissues that lay under.
I could see a puddle of his tears forming rapidly under his head, his slight shakings were beginning to get on my nerves.
Once I had the lower back exposed I moved on to the ribs, getting rid of all the skin on top and carefully separating tissue from bone, being careful not to harm any of his organs as I was doing so.
His mind was fully under my control from the moment our eyes met, but his body was still his and he could feel everything that I was doing to him.
I spent like that an hour, cutting off his skin and gently separating flesh from bone when necessary, all to make it easier for me as I lowered my head towards his bare body.
I licked his liver and was trying to decide what I should begin to eat first, the organs with no nerves so that he will not die from shock, or the flesh so as not to harm the vital organs?
My mind had become preoccupied with the question only for a brief period.
I turned him over so that his belly faced me, regretting that I cut open his back first.
His face was wet with dirt and tears, his eyes were fixed on me with the same affectionate gaze.
I put the tool to the remains of his umbilical cord and put it through. I cut down from there to the edge of his pelvis and curved the tool to the left, cutting up to his ribs, then right and down again back to the edge of the pelvis.
I took off his skin and began doing the same to his chest.
Once I finished with his torso I moved to his limbs, first the legs, then the arms. I stopped when I reached the feet and hands as I did not need to skin those parts.
I lowered my head down to his belly and moved aside one of the ribs using my hand.
I opened my mouth and licked my teeth, placing them on his left lung and slowly closing on it. Once the first piece of his flesh had fallen into my mouth, It no longer mattered to me how to begin.
I chewed his lung carefully, breaking it down as well as I could before swallowing.
As I pushed the salivated, chewed piece of flesh into my throat I felt a shudder running through my body, it was so delicious and warm that I was overrun with pleasure.
I took another bite of his lung, and then proceeded to his thigh.
His eyes were now beginning to close as he was falling into a state of shock. He could no longer bare the pain that I was causing him and was losing consciousness.
I needed to eat him while he was still alive, so I set aside my indulging in the pleasures of the chewing and ignored how good his flesh had felt inside my mouth.
I simply ate him, as quickly as I could, before the heart had stopped beating, so I could go back to my trunk and go to sleep.

As I finished the last of his flesh, I made up my mind to eat his sibling in the next year as well.
I went back to my trunk and climbed inside, all the time thinking about how tasty this boy was, slowly drifting into slumber, with the affectionate gaze in front of my eyes.

title: Lullaby. (1670 words, first post here)

question: What is the genre of this story?

answer: Grotesque body-horror.

question: What emotions does the author try to evoke in the reader?

answer: Disgust and horror.

question: Why does the boy look affectionately at the narrator despite his gruesome mutilation?

answer: The narrator mentions the boy being under its control after looking eye-to-eye. Whatever magical effect is responsible must be making the boy affectionate.


split: train

text:
TROND HELGE TORSVIK (born October 12 1957) is a Norwegian professor of geophysics at the University of Oslo. He directs the Centre for Earth Evolution and Dynamics.[1] In 2015 Torsvik received the Leopold von Buch award for his outstanding contributions to the understanding of geodynamics. The prize is awarded by the . In 2016 he also received the Arthur Holmes Medal & Honorary Membership from the European Geosciences Union.[2]

Education

Torsvik received a Ph.D. from the University of Bergen in 1985. After this he was a researcher at the University of Bergen and the Norwegian Geological Survey. Also he was a guest lecturer at the University of Michigan (1993–1994) and a guest lecturer at the University of Lund (1999–2001). Since 2007 he has been professor at the University of Oslo studying the physics of geological processes. He was assistant Professor at the University of the Witwatersrand in South Africa in 2004.

Other membership

He joined the Royal Norwegian Society of Sciences and Letters in 1993, the Norwegian Academy of Science and Letters in 1996, the American Geophysical Union in 1999, the Academia Europaea in 2005 and the Royal Danish Academy of Sciences and Letters in 2008 .

[1] Centre for Earth Evolution and Dynamics

[2]

title: Trond Helge Torsvik

question: Summarize Trond Helge Torsvik's education.

answer: Torsvik received his Ph.D. from the Unviersity of Bergen in 1985. He worked as researcher at the University of Bergen and the Norwegian Geological Survey after this. He has been professor at the University of Oslo studying the physics of geological processes since 2007.

question: List the prizes Trond Helge Torsvik received.

answer: He received the Leopold von Buch award for outstanding contributions to the understanding of geophysics. He also received the Arthur Holmes Medal & Honorary Membership from the European Geosciences Union.

question: Of which institutions is Trond Helge Torsvik a member?

answer: Royal Norwegian Society of Sciences and Letters, Norwegian Academy of Science and Letters, American Geophysical Union, Academia Europea, Royal Danish Academy of Sciences and Letters.

question: What is Trond Helge Torsvik's field of study?

answer: He is a professor of geophysics and directs the Centre for Earth Evolution and Dynamics.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Trond Helge Torsvik is a Norwegian professor of geophysics at the University of Oslo.


text:
Fukushima continues to spew out radiation. The quantities seem to be rising, as do the impacts.

The site has been infiltrated by organized crime. There are horrifying signs of ecological disaster in the Pacific and human health impacts in the U.S.

But within Japan, a new State Secrets Act makes such talk punishable by up to ten years in prison.

Taro Yamamoto, a Japanese legislator, says the law “represents a coup d’etat” leading to “the recreation of a fascist state.” The powerful Asahi Shimbun newspaper compares it to “conspiracy” laws passed by totalitarian Japan in the lead-up to Pearl Harbor, and warns it could end independent reporting on Fukushima.

Prime Minister Shinzo Abe has been leading Japan in an increasingly militaristic direction. Tensions have increased with China. Massive demonstrations have been renounced with talk of “treason.”

But it’s Fukushima that hangs most heavily over the nation and the world.

Tokyo Electric Power has begun the bring-down of hot fuel rods suspended high in the air over the heavily damaged Unit Four. The first assemblies it removed may have contained unused rods. The second may have been extremely radioactive.

But Tepco has clamped down on media coverage and complains about news helicopters filming the fuel rod removal.

Under the new State Secrets Act, the government could ban—and arrest—all independent media under any conditions at Fukushima, throwing a shroud of darkness over a disaster that threatens us all.

By all accounts, whatever clean-up is possible will span decades. The town of Fairfax, CA, has now called for a global takeover at Fukushima. More than 150,000 signees have asked the UN for such intervention.

As a private corporation, Tepco is geared to cut corners, slash wages and turn the clean-up into a private profit center.

It will have ample opportunity. The fuel pool at Unit Four poses huge dangers that could take years to sort out. But so do the ones at Units One, Two and Three. The site overall is littered with thousands of intensely radioactive rods and other materials whose potential fallout is thousands of times greater than what hit Hiroshima in 1945.

Soon after the accident, Tepco slashed the Fukushima workforce. It has since restored some of it, but has cut wages. Shady contractors shuttle in hundreds of untrained laborers to work in horrific conditions. Reuters says the site is heaving infiltrated by organized crime, raising the specter of stolen radioactive materials for dirty bombs and more.

Thousands of tons of radioactive water now sit in leaky tanks built by temporary workers who warn of their shoddy construction. They are sure to collapse with a strong earthquake.

Tepco says it may just dump the excess water into the Pacific anyway. Nuclear expert Arjun Makhijani has advocated the water be stored in supertankers until it can be treated, but the suggestion has been ignored.

Hundreds of tons of water also flow daily from the mountains through the contaminated site and into the Pacific. Nuclear engineer Arnie Gundersen long ago asked Tepco to dig a trench filled with absorbents to divert that flow. But he was told that would cost too much money.

Now Tepco wants to install a wall of ice. But that can’t be built for at least two years. It’s unclear where the energy to keep the wall frozen will come from, or if it would work at all.

Meanwhile, radiation is now reaching record levels in both the air and water.

The fallout has been already been detected off the coast of Alaska. It will cycle down along the west coast of Canada and the U.S. to northern Mexico by the end of 2014. Massive disappearances of sea lion pups, sardines, salmon, killer whales and other marine life are being reported, along with a terrifying mass disintegration of star fish. One sailor has documented a massive “dead zone” out 2,000 miles from Fukushima. Impacts on humans have already been documented in California and elsewhere.

Without global intervention, long-lived isotopes from Fukushima will continue to pour into the biosphere for decades to come.

The only power now being produced at Fukushima comes from a massive new windmill just recently installed offshore.

Amidst a disaster it can’t handle, the Japanese government is still pushing to re-open the 50 reactors forced shut since the melt-downs. It wants to avoid public fallout amidst a terrified population, and on the 2020 Olympics, scheduled for a Tokyo region now laced with radioactive hot spots. At least one on-site camera has stopped functioning. The government has also apparently stopped helicopter-based radiation monitoring.

A year ago a Japanese professor was detained 20 days without trial for speaking out against the open-air incineration of radioactive waste.

Now Prime Minister Abe can do far worse. The _Times of India_ reports that the State Secrets Act is unpopular, and that Abe’s approval ratings have dropped with its passage.

But the new law may make Japan’s democracy a relic of its pre-Fukushima past.

It’s the cancerous mark of a nuclear regime bound to control all knowledge of a lethal global catastrophe now ceaselessly escalating.

_HARVEY WASSERMAN edits www.nukefree.org and wrote Solartopia!  Our Green-Powered Earth.  With Moveon.org he and others are presenting petitions to the United Nations with more than 150,000 signatures calling for a global takeover of the situation at Fukushima.  This piece first appeared on EcoWatch.com._

_HARVEY WASSERMAN wrote SOLARTOPIA! Our Green-Powered Earth. His Green Power & Wellness Show is at www.prn.fm. _

question: What is happening in Fukushima?

answer: Radiation is continuing to spew out

question: Who is the radiation impacting?

answer: It is impacting the human health across the world.

question: What is the new Japanese State Secrets Act?

answer: It is allowing the government to band and arrest all media who reports on the threats.

question: What are the effects on Prime Minister Abe?

answer: PM Abe's approval ratings have dropped.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer:
A report addresses how Fukushima is continuing to spew out radiation. Impacts on human health across the world have been reported but in Japan, a new State Secrets Act makes such talk punishable by prison time. The Japanese government could even ban and arrest the media.
Prime Minister Abe's approval ratings have dropped since.


text:
ISTVÁN GYARMATI is an Hungarian political scientist. He is a member of the council of the International Institute for Strategic Studies. He is senior advisor on South East Europe at the Geneva Centre for the Democratic Control of Armed Forces, and chairman of the Centre for Euro-Atlantic Integration and Democracy.[1][2][3][4]

[1] http://www.nato.int/docu/conf/2003/031016_bxl/cv-gyarmati.htm

[2]

[3]

[4]

title: István Gyarmati

question: Who is István Gyarmati?

answer: a Hungarian political scientist

question: What is the International Institute for Strategic Studies?

answer: the article does not answer this question

question: What is the Geneva Centre for the Democratic Control of Armed Forces?

answer: the article does not answer this question

question: What is the Centre for Euro-Atlantic Integration and Democracy?

answer: the article does not answer this question

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: István Gyarmati is a Hungarian political scientist.


text:
Back in summer, Travis Oates and I quit our jobs hosting "Arena" on G4.

Since then, I have been overwhelmed with emails from people, wanting to know why we quit.

It's a long story, but here's a very short version:

The producer I was working with was, in my opinion, an amateur. Horribly unprofessional, he treated me and my partner with shocking contempt and disrespect.

For months before I finally left, the producers of the show treated my co-host, Travis Oates, like he had never worked on a show in his life. Travis has created and executive produced several shows. He is currently writing a book, and has won several awards for his work. Travis deserved their respect, but they never gave it to him.

Travis was very active on the Arena message boards, and when we suddenly dropped CounterStrike from our show, the fans asked him why. Travis asked te producer what he should tell them. The producer told Travis that Valve had decided not to sign a waiver, which would protect the network from a lawsuit if some stupid kid decided to shoot up his school and blame it on CS. Travis relayed this information to the fans, and someone from Valve read it. Apparently this made the person from Valve very unhappy, and this person complained to G4. The brass at the network was furious, and blew up at Travis about it. The producer, who had explicitly told Travis what to say, never spoke up on Travis' behalf. He sat back, and let Travis get blamed for just following the producer's instructions. As a matter of fact, the producer had the nerve to send Travis an e-mail, where he blasted Travis for speaking without permission.

When we suddenly dropped DOA3 from Arena, the fans wanted to know why. Again, Travis asked the producer what to tell them. The producer told Travis that we'd cut the game from Arena because an executive at Comcast, G4's parent company, was "personally offended by Dead Or Alive 3," so it had been pulled not only from Arena, but from the entire network as well. Travis conveyed this information to the fans, via the message board, and when the G4 executives read it, they freaked out more intensely than the Valve people had. Travis was threatened with termination, and again the producer sat back and said nothing. He did fire off another terse, official-sounding e-mail to cover his ass. This producer's treatment of Travis, and the network's complicity, was strike one.

When Microsoft and G4 teamed up to have the HALO National Finals on Arena, our producer treated the players like they were scum. As early as our first production meeting, he was talking about them like they were an annoyance, and lucky to even be on the show. My efforts to make sure that the players, who had come from all over the country to play the game and were competing for major prizes, were treated well, were met with constant resistance from everyone except one executive at G4. The HALO finals should have been one hour long (44 minutes of show, with the balance being commercials), but the network refused. They insisted that it be cut down to 23 minutes, and it ended up looking like crap. It was the HALO freaking National Finals, and it looked like something on UHF. It was boring and stiff. I asked the editor why it was so bad. He told me that he'd cut together an hour-long version, and it was funny and exciting. The network refused, and the producer couldn't be bothered to fight with them to make the show better. I realized that the producer was lazy, and that as long as he was involved, the show wouldn't ever grow into something that I'd be proud of. This was strike two.

Because this producer was rude, arrogant, and treated the players badly, the reputation of the show was quickly soiled within gaming circles, and it was hard to recruit new players for the show. Players who did show up were often made to wait around for hours while the producers tried to get their act together, and when they grew restless, they were reminded how lucky they were to even be there, and get some free pizza.

Because he wasn't doing his job, the producer often could not get two teams of eight players together every other week to play our games. When he found that there weren't enough players for the games, he grabbed people people who worked for G4 to play against the "champion" teams. They'd sometimes have players from the "champion" teams join the "challenger" team. Not surprisingly, the players on the "challenger" team who were from the "champion" team did not often play their best, ensuring that their real, champion team would win.

I didn't know about this practice until our 13th episode. When I found out, I expressed to the producer that I was very concerned. I felt that it was dishonest, and I was upset that he'd lied to me and to our audience about the validity of the games on Arena. I told him that it put me in an awkward position, because I wouldn't go along with lying to the audience.

In addition to being arrogant and unprofessional, this producer was also very dishonest, He didn't care that the show was essentially faked, and when I asked him how we would explain to the audience that the challenging team had players from G4 on it, he instructed me to "make something up" to justify the situation.

I felt that my integrity was on the line. I refused, and after numerous attempts to reach a compromise with him, I finally talked to his boss about it.

His boss claimed to know nothing about the faking of the game play rounds, and was very upset that the producer wasn't securing new players for each episode. He told me that he couldn't believe that the producer was unable to find four players in a span of two weeks, and told me that he'd speak with the producer, and get back to me.

About 30 minutes later, my producer called me. I told him that I was glad to hear from him (he'd been avoiding me for days) and asked him what we were going to do about the episode.

His response was to scream at me, call me names, and tell me that I was "a fucking bullshit asshole" for going over his head and complaining to his boss.

I told him that I understood why he was upset, and suggested that calling me names wasn't the most professional way to deal with this situation. I reminded him that we wouldn't be in this position if he'd gotten the players like he was supposed to.

His response was to continue screaming at me.

Now, I've been an actor for 23 years. I've worked in all levels of the industry, with all sorts of people, and I have never, _never_ been screamed at that way. Nobody has ever treated me with such open disdain and disrespect, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I tried to calm him down, and told him again that we needed to talk about the show. I told him that lying to the audience was a real problem.

He responded, "No, Wil. The real problem is you, you fucking asshole! You had no right to go over my fucking head and talk to my fucking boss! This is complete BULLSHIT, Wil, this is -- "

Something in me snapped, and I blew up. If I'd been face to face with him, it would have taken several people to pull me off him. I told him to shut the fuck up, and be a professional.I told him that in my entire career, nobody had ever spoken to me the way he did. I told him that this was _his_ problem, because he didn't do his job . . .

And he hung up. It was the last time I ever spoke with him.

I called Travis, my co-host and very good friend, and told him that I wanted him to know what had happened, because I was calling the network to quit when I hung up with him.

Travis calmed me down, and somehow talked me into sticking around for the episode, which was called "Team UMM vs. Team Leftovers." I finally agreed that I would do the episode, but I would tell the audience that the other team didn't show up to play against UMM, so we pulled together whoever was hanging around at the time, and called them "Leftovers."

Yeah, it wasn't true, but it was as close as I was going to get. In retrospect, I should have quit right then, but I felt a loyalty to Travis and the show's fans. I decided to shoot this "leftovers" episode, and deal with the problems when we were done. Of everything that happened, this is the only choice I regret.

When we shot the episode, the producer skulked around like a child, and there were countless mysterious "technical" problems that we'd never had before. Travis and I were forced to stop and start over and over again, and it became clear to us after an hour or so that the producer was fucking with us.

We finished the episode, and I spent the following week working on the script for the next show. When I went to pick up my paycheck that week, I saw that my pay had been inexplicably cut by over 2/3. I knew that the producer had done this, and when I called my bosses at the network to get to the bottom of it, nobody would give me a straight answer. In subsequent meetings with the network heads, I was informed that my pay would remain insultingly low for at least the next two years, and there was no plan to increase the budget on my show. G4 had no intention of removing this producer who had driven me and Travis away from the network, or any of the other producers who were driving good talent away.

Strike Three. G4 is out.

There is a culture of dishonesty and hubris at G4 that would make an ambulance-chasing lawyer cringe, and I couldn't be part of it. I understand that the blame for my quitting has been placed on another producer, who was fired just before I quit. This is not true. It has also come to my attention that the very producer who treated us so badly has been telling people that he had me fired. For anyone keeping score at home, it is entirely because of this producer, and his outrageous treatment of both me and Travis that I quit.

Despite all of this, there are a couple of good people who work there: mostly writers, who are doing the very best they can in an incredibly hostile environment. One person in particular, Brian Malley, was one of the hardest working people I've ever been around in 20 years of acting. Arena could not have functioned without him. The guys who actually work in the studio where we taped were all great, as well. It's truly unfortunate that the entire show was headed up by such a jerk.

I haven't seen the new hosts, but I understand that the audience hates them pretty uniformly. I would say to give them a chance. I'm sure they're doing the best they can with their material . . . but I fear that they are going to ride this sinking ship all the way down.

question: Why does the narrator feel Travis deserves respect?

answer: Because of the awards that he's one.

question: What is the main point the author is trying to get across in the final paragraph?

answer: They are telling the fans to give the new hosts a chance, as they are probably doing their best to work in this toxic environment.

question: Why is it relevant that the author has been an actor for 23 years?

answer: Because it means they have interacted with a large variety of people and know what sort of behavior is appropriate and what isn't.

question: Why was the author's pay reduced?

answer: It is not confirmed, but the author believes it was because of the vindictive producer


text:
SAMARIA (MITCHAM) BAILEY is an instrumental figure in the civil rights movement. An African-American woman, Bailey began desegregation at A. L. Miller Senior High School, an all-white female school located in Macon, Georgia, and was one of the first American women of African descent accepted to Mercer University. She later became an accomplished pianist, and her story was adapted into a bestselling novel and a stage play.[1]

Early life

The second of ten children, Samaria Mitcham was born in Macon on June 29, 1947 to a proud, hardworking family. Her father, Wilbur Mitcham, was the family breadwinner, working as a cook at a fashionable restaurant in Macon. After the children in Samaria's family were grown, Samaria's mother returned to school and graduated from Wesleyan College.

In 1964, Samaria was a junior at Appling High School, a traditionally black — and therefore coed — institution.[2]

Desegregating Miller High School

Historically, white students in Macon had attended separate, gender-segregated schools. High schools for black students, on the other hand, were coeducational. As the school desegregation movement began to pick up steam, black students in the twelfth grade were placed in the traditionally white schools: Miller High School for girls and Lanier High School for boys.

At Appling, the school administration considered Samaria an “academic gemstone,” earning “straight-As” despite extensive extracurricular studies in (among others) chorus, band, and drama. But Samaria did not feel challenged enough, and, when students were asked to apply to enter Miller or Lanier, Samaria was among the first to volunteer.

Samaria was one of the only nonwhite students at Miller High. Still, Samaria was regarded as a good and intelligent young woman, and graduated with honors.[3]

Tutoring Program

Samaria also helped to develop one of the first anti-discrimination programs for her fellow students. Black students who were attempting to transfer to the white schools were required to be “academically prepared”; therefore, black students received preparatory summer tutoring. Nonetheless, eleven years of underperforming education would not be erased with a single summer of tutoring and a year of improved schooling. Black students applying to college still displayed much lower scores on standardized tests.

In order to combat these disadvantages, Joseph Hendricks, then Dean of Men at Mercer University, created a secret tutoring program for black high school students, to help prepare them to succeed in the newly-desegregated schools. Although the tutoring took place at Mercer, the program was not sponsored by the university itself.

Hendricks carefully selected the first seventeen students, one of whom was the young student Samaria Mitcham. Samaria was tutored in the summer with the rest of the group and academically flourished the following school year. Nonetheless, when testing came, Samaria did poorly. Samaria's situation provided a convincing argument that the standardized test scores did not reflect students' academic abilities. Samaria's star performance at each high school demonstrated her intelligence; the tests had instead measured the cultural literacy that white students had acquired through years of superior education.

Based on Samaria's experiences, Hendricks improved the tutoring program, recruiting students from as far as UCLA to help teach. The following summer (1965), the tutorial program attracted close to 100 students.[4]

Desegregating Mercer University

Samaria was then admitted to Mercer University, the first such African American woman. At Mercer, Samaria continued to endure racist remarks from her peers on a daily basis. Most students ignored her, avoiding eye contact, and even some professors treated her like a nonentity. In her chemistry class, she was the only female pupil, and the professor had to force another student to be her lab partner. The mistreatment, however, did not stop Samaria from pursuing her education. She notes, “I've never been a quitter.”[5]

During her time at Mercer, Samaria continued to perform as a pianist. She was offered recording contracts with several music labels, but rejected them to continue pursuing her education.

Later life and occupation

After graduation, Bailey started Med-Tech Service, a medical technologies company.[6] Med-Tech Service employs forty to fifty people, providing nurses, technicians, and other health- care providers throughout the Macon area. Samaria has described her ideology as follows: “I was never a separatist. I was never a black militant. I just always wanted to get the job done.” Indeed, ninety percent of her employees are white.[7]

As of 2014, Samaria Bailey resided with her husband in Macon, Georgia.[8]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

title: Samaria (Mitcham) Bailey

question: Summarize everything relating to discrimination.

answer: Historically, white students in Macon had to attend separate, gender-segregated schools while high schools for black students were coeducational. Samaria helped develop one of the first anti-discrimination programs for her fellow students. At Mercer University, Samaria endured racist remarks from her peers on a daily basis. Students, and even some faculty, ignored her.

question: Summarize everything relating to Samaria's activities in support of civil rights.

answer: Samaria helped develop one of the first anti-discrimination programs for her fellow students. The fact that she did poorly on testing despite flourishing academically provided an argument that standardized test scores did not reflect students' academic abilities. Samaria was the first African American woman to be admitted to Mercer University.

question: Summarize Samaria's activities during the 1930s.


text:
*"Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves."
-Albert Einstein*

I had this dream.
It must’ve been the 1950’s, or some time earlier.
I wasn't sure how I got there, but I knew that I wasn’t in my body, and that I wasn’t driving my car.
We had the top down and were speeding down an old country two-lane road.

The prettiest girl in the world was sitting in my passenger seat.
She was sitting cross-legged, facing me, with the wind blowing her gorgeous golden-brown hair all over the place.
She was laughing. I could never forget that perfect smile.
The orange light from the setting sun caused a glisten in her eyes. I loved the way that I couldn’t keep my focus whenever I was around her.

What was peculiar about this was that I felt as if it happened all in one instant, but at the same time it felt like hours. I guess this is how love is supposed to feel.

She screamed with delight. She loved feeling free.
I didn’t know where I was driving, but she didn’t care.
It doesn’t matter where you are when you’re with the most beautiful girl on Earth.

I managed to break the allure of her hazel-green eyes to check the road.
Nothing.
Just the open road, a warm sunset, and the girl of my dreams sitting next to me.

Or so I thought.

I don’t know what happened but the car suddenly flipped over.
Everything was silent.
I can’t clearly recall what happened but I remembered that her once-gorgeous golden-brown hair was soiled with blood and that her hazel-green eyes were filled with tears at one point.
But, she never cried.

The worst part was that I couldn’t save her.
I reached for her but could never touch her. I called for her but she never answered.
The last thing I saw was that glisten fade from her eyes.

I don’t know if I ended up surviving, but it didn’t matter.
All I knew was that I had robbed the world of the prettiest girl that it had ever seen.
I could never forgive myself.

What’s the value of one life if it robs humanity of its greatest treasure?

title: The Prettiest Girl in the World

question: Is this really a dream?

answer: He recalls the circumstances with so much regret, it seems it may be something that happened a long time ago

question: How long had he been seeing the girl?

answer: It is not the first or second time as he says that he couldn't keep his focus whenever he was around her.

question: How does he know the approximate year of the dream?

answer: Probably from the model of the car.

question: Why does he believe that she is the prettiest girl on earth?

answer: Because he's in love

question: Write a ~18 sentence summary.

answer:
The narrator has a dream. It’s the 1950s. he wasn’t in his body and he wasn’t driving his car. The prettiest girl in the world was sitting in the passenger seat, the wind blowing her gorgeous golden-brown hair all over the place.
She was laughing.  She screamed with delight. She loved feeling free. I didn’t know where I was driving, but she didn’t care.
I don’t know what happened but the car suddenly flipped over. Everything was silent.
I remember that her hair was soiled with blood and her hazel-green eyes were filled with tears.
The worst part was that I couldn’t save her. I reached for her but could never touch her. I called for her but she never answered. The last thing I saw was that glisten fade from her eyes.
I don’t know if I survived, but it didn’t matter. All I knew was that I had robbed the world of the prettiest girl that it had ever seen. I could never forgive myself.


text:
NOTE: I haven't been able to come up with a suitable name for the protagonist yet, as you can see. The ten dashes are where his name would appear.

“There were a million chandeliers above and below me.” These were the last words that ---------typed on his hazardously dusty typewriter just before scraping the butt of his cigarette out in the pulpit of his glass ashtray. Apparently he thought these were good words to end on. If I told you why he chose these last words out of all the others that sat so readily in his dictionary, then I may ruin your expectations of Mr. -----------, or maybe I don’t know myself. Perhaps it had something to do with the gleaming horizon that he woke to every morning as he rolled out of bed, peered out of his window, and watched the crystalline strands of orange light melt the cold smoke that pumped out of the cities veins.  Or maybe it had something to do with his neutrality concerning his current professional position at the Chicago tribune as staff journalist.  It was 1:00 a.m.  Around him sat seven glasses of water which had been each been sipped the same amount of times. John cascaded the wheels of his chair across the lumpy laminate wood as he sprawled his body back, staring at his typed words for a few moments thinking about the sporadic manner in which he typed them and what they meant at all. He gently pulled back the cardboard hinge on his pack of Marlboro 27’s, plucked a fresh cigarette out, and brought the Styrofoam stub to his lips. He allowed it to dangle there. ---------- alternated glances between his blotted typewriter paper and his small rectangular alarm clock which rested on a low and chipped maple dresser. After a few minutes had gone by, he put the dangling cigarette back in the box. He loosened the bright yellow tie that hung around his neck, and laid his sore body down on the slightly damp bed leaving a parade of dust in the sky from impact.  It was now 1:30 a.m in Chicago on a Wednesday.  ------- was in no rush.

Every Sunday, him, his six combined brothers and sisters, and his parents would cram into a tiny coastal Rhode Island church to hear about sin, which was a topic -------knew well.  Growing up on the coast of Rhode Island taught him two things: Don’t pray standing up and what the preacher says goes.  Of course, it is possible to pray standing up. It may even be more comfortable than kneeling.  To examine this problem would mean having to reveal a seemingly miniscule and innocuous moment in ---------’s adolescence. I would have to back-peddle through countless erased moments and drunken stupors which have been banned and exiled from ----------’s present psyche. I would have to go back past Charloette Stone’s beach-house, past the silver dollar moon, and, eventually, back to the last dance at ----------’s senior prom, and I simply will not trespass on that exiled box of memories at this current moment.  John lay on his damp bed, staring at the picture of his family sitting in front of a glowing lake, resting at the foothills of familiar mountains. It was the last time he was together with his entire family.  Next to the picture, was a pint of the cheapest whiskey sold in Chicago. He laid on his side for a few moments dissecting the picture waiting for some sort of strong emotional image to come to his mind. It never came.

---------- woke to a screeching noise. Face down on his pillow, he opened his eyes and gazed into the ash wall for a few moments before jumping out of bed and attacking the snooze button on his alarm clock.  After a few more than necessary slaps to the top of his alarm clock, ---------- peered outside of his window, which was the only thing that was clean in the entire apartment, although, most people wouldn’t sum up ---------- apartment with the word: entirely. The words half or almost would be more appropriate. Outside of his window, there were five taxi cabs parked on the street, a corner vendor that would sell hot dogs for less than the normal price to ---------- when he would drunkenly loiter around the corners before dusk and a large fenced park diagonally to his left. The grass in the park looked like somebody had poured mass amounts of yellow cabbage onto the ground. He turned around in disgust and hopped into his half-shower. It was 7:45 a.m on a Thursday.  Time. John Dinka’s alarm clock went off while he was in the shower, like it always does. A plethora of quite imaginative curse words screamed loud enough to wake the inhabitants of the neighboring apartment was usually the selected response from ----------, for now he had to put his shower on hold while he turned the alarm off, which would subtract one minute and thirty seconds from his morning schedule, (and not to mention juice up the heating bill) as he would have to spend an extra minute and thirty seconds washing the conditioner out of his static orange hair. It seemed that ---------- mornings were meticulously planned out, perhaps better than most sane people. ---------- was, of course, sane. His random outbursts of anger, obvious alcoholism, and sociopathic tendencies were just by-products of a world that moves in masses, always forgetting the people similar to him; or, that’s how he would come to see the world, anyways. He chocked all of it up to society like it was trendy.  As a matter of fact, ---------- may have been ahead of the curve because, for the journalist’ at the Chicago Tribune, there was nothing trendier than finding a valid excuse for blaming society. ---------- was completely sane by most people’s standards; he didn’t dare stand out.   ---------- finished tying his solid red tie over a creased burnt marshmallow dress shirt.  He grabbed his keys off the dresser, and walked casually out of his apartment door even though he knew he was a minute and thirty seconds behind schedule.  He led himself down the maroon carpeted stairs, through the bright lobby, and out to his shitty fucking car.

title: Started writing this a while ago. Just reviewed it and adjusted some material. Any criticism would be awesome!

question: Was the protagonist writing a book?

answer: This information is not mentioned.

question: What did he work as at Chicago tribune?

answer: He worked as a staff journalist.

question: What did growing up in Rhode Island teach the protagonist?

answer: It taught him not to pray standing up and that what the preacher says goes.

question: Who is John Dinka?

answer: It may be implied that John was the protagonist's flatmate.

question: Write a ~9 sentence summary.

answer:
The protagonist is typing incessantly on his typewriter. He chooses to end by writing "There were a million chandeliers above and below me." He worked as a staff journalist at the Chicago tribune. He sat staring at the seven glasses of water in front of him wondering how quickly he had typed.

He spends every Sunday with his family in a coastal Rhode Island church to hear about sins.

The protagonist wakes up to a screeching noise, he slaps his alarm clock and makes his way to jump into the shower. John Dinka is already inside. The protagonist curses him in his mind for he had to wait until Dinka got out. Alas, the protagonist gets ready and is all set to take off to work.


text:
[Detail of a Cullercoats fishlass, from _Inside the Bar_, by Winslow Homer 1883]

A FISHWIFE, FISH-FAG[1] or FISHLASS is a woman who sells fish.[2]

Often the wives and daughters of fishermen, fishwives were notoriously loud and foul-mouthed, as noted in the expression, _To swear like a fishwife_. One reason for their outspokenness is that their wares were highly perishable and so lost value if not sold quickly.[3] Fishwives in fishing villages such as Cullercoats and Newhaven were noted for their beauty, hardiness and industry and were celebrated by artists and royalty.

In this context, the word _wife_ means _woman_ rather than _married woman_.[4] This usage stems from Old English _wif_ (woman) and is cognate with the German _Weib_ and the Dutch _Wijf_, also meaning “woman” (nowadays rarely used and usually in a pejorative sense).

Billingsgate

[Isaac Cruikshank's 1805 political cartoon, _A New Catamaran Expedition!!!_]

London's traditional fish market was frequented by such types who were known as “_the wives of Billingsgate_”. “_They dressed in strong 'stuff' gowns and quilted petticoats; their hair, caps and bonnets were flattened into one indistinguishable mass upon their heads. ... They smoked small pipes of tobacco, took snuff, drank gin and were known for their colourful language._”[5]

In the 18th century, fishwives frequently appeared in satires as fearsome scourges of fops and foreigners. Their vigorous and decisive mien was contrasted with that of politicians who were, by contrast, portrayed as vacillating and weak. For example, in Isaac Cruikshank's _A New Catamaran Expedition!!!_, a fleet of Billingsgate fishwives sails across the English Channel to terrorise the French and shame the British Prime Minister Pitt for his inaction.[6]

Cullercoats

William Finden noted, in 1842, that the wives and daughters of the Cullercoats fishermen searched for the bait, digging sand-worms, gathering mussels or seeking limpets and dog-crabs. They also assisted in baiting the hooks. In addition to this, they carried the fish to the market to sell them. “When fish are scarce, they not unfrequently carried a load on their shoulders, weighing between , to Newcastle, which is about ten miles distant from Cullercoats, in the hope of meeting with a better market.”[7]

Edward Corvan wrote and performed a popular music hall song about the Cullercoats Fish Lass in 1862:[8]

    Aw's a Cullercoats fish-lass, se cozy an' free
    Browt up in a cottage close on by the sea;
    An' aw sell fine fresh fish ti poor an' ti rich--
    Will ye buy, will ye buy, will ye buy maw fresh fish?

The Cullercoats Fishlass became a popular subject of American artist, Winslow Homer, who resided in the picturesque fishing village, to paint, from the spring of 1881 to November 1882. Homer soon became sensitive to the strenuous and courageous lives of its inhabitants, particularly the women, whom he depicted hauling and cleaning fish, mending nets, and, most poignantly, standing at the water's edge, awaiting the return of their men.

Jean F. Terry wrote, in 1913, "The Cullercoats fishwife, with her cheerful weather-bronzed face, her short jacket and ample skirts of blue flannel, and her heavily laden “creel” of fish is not only appreciated by the brotherhood of brush and pencil, but is one of the notable sights of the district".[9]

William S. Garson, in his 1935 book, _The Romance of Old Tynemouth and Cullercoats_, wrote: “The Cullercoats fishwife plays a man's part in helping to launch the lifeboat, frequently wading waist-high into furious and ice-cold waters, and she never hesitates to allow her man to take a place on the boat, though he may go to face death and disaster.”[10]

Newhaven

The Scottish fishwives of Newhaven had a reputation for their beauty and industry and so were celebrated by royalty — George IV and Queen Victoria. They were hard-bargainers though, and all the fishermen of the Firth of Forth brought their catches to Newhaven for the fishwives to sell in Edinburgh. The fishwives wore distinctive costumes of blue duffle coats covering layers of colourful striped petticoats with a muslin cap or other similar headdress. Their fish, such as haddock and herring, were carried on their backs in creels.[11]

India

This profession exists in India in modern times.[12][13]

Gallery

Image:fishwives baiting lines.jpg| Fishwives in St Andrews, Scotland bait their lines File:Bust of the 'Nairn Fishwife. - geograph.org.uk - 1530781.jpg| Statue of the Nairn Fishwife File:Adriaen van Ostade 009.jpg|_The fishwife_, Holland 1672 by Adriaen van Ostade File:Dollypeelportrait.jpg%7CNotorious Victorian fishwife Dolly Peel, of South Shields File:Alexander Ignatius Roche - A Newhaven Fishwife.jpg|Newhaven fishwife with creel (by Alexander Ignatius Roche 1861–1921) File:Fisher Jessie statue, Peterhead - geograph.org.uk - 1077905.jpg|Bronze cast statue of a fishwife and little girl, Peterhead File:William Hogarth - The Shrimp Girl - WGA11467.jpg|_The Shrimp Girl_ by William Hogarth, c. 1740-1745 File:Homer, Winslow - 'Fisherwomen, Cullercoats', 1881, graphite & watercolor on paper.jpg|_Fisherwomen, Cullercoats_, Winslow Homer 1881 File:Dorothy Pentreath.jpg|Dolly Pentreath (a Cornish fish jowster), in an engraved portrait published in 1781

Famous fishwives

-   Dolly Peel – a fishwife of South Shields
-   Dolly Pentreath – the last native speaker of Cornish
-   Marretje Arents – Dutch fishwife and rebel
-   Molly Malone – the subject of an Irish song
-   Annie Sandercock – the artist, dancer and celebrated wrestler.

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7] _The Ports, Harbours, Watering-places and Picturesque Scenery of Great Britain_; Vol. 1, William Finden, 1842

[8] “The Cullercoats Fish Lass” Edward Corvan, 1862, in Allan's Illustrated Edition of Tyneside Songs and Readings 1891 1

[9] “Northumberland Yesterday and Today” 'Jean F Terry' 2 1913

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13] https://web.archive.org/web/20190801222331/https://www.brettcolephotography.com/-/galleries/india/kolkata-calcutta/page/11

title: Fishwife

question: What is a fishwife?

answer: A fishwife is a woman who sells fish. They are often the wives and daughters of fishermen. They are known for being notoriously loud and foul-mouthed.

question: What does the text say about the fish market?

question: What does the text say about William Finden?

answer: William Finden noted that the wives and daughters of the Cullercoats fishermen searched for the bait. They also carried the fish to the market to sell them.

question: What does the text say about Newhaven?

answer: The Scottish fishwives of Newhaven had a reputation for their beauty. However, they were hard-bargainers. Their fish were carried on their backs in creels.


text:
[]
"I’m not sure what the impact will be or how we would comply because the bill is written with non-medical language, and it’s not written by doctors. It’s written by politicians," Mary Kogut, president and CEO of Planned Parenthood of the St. Louis Region and Southwest Missouri, told _Rewire_.
__ Shutterstock

Oklahoma Gov. Mary Fallin (R) signed a bill into law Monday that criminalizes a medical procedure used during second-trimester abortions and for miscarriage management.

That came weeks after Kansas Gov. Sam Brownback (R) signed similar legislation, and now reproductive rights advocates are raising serious concerns about the lasting implications of these new, radically anti-choice laws.

“With this law, Oklahoma has joined Kansas in an alarming trend toward substituting politicians’ agendas for the judgment and expertise of doctors, and then threatening those doctors with criminal charges if they disagree,” Nancy Northup, president and CEO of the Center for Reproductive Rights, said in a statement.

TARGETING SPECIFIC ABORTION PROCEDURES

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The laws ban the dilation and evacuation (D and E) procedure, which is commonly used in second trimester abortion care. The procedure is a method of abortion during which a physician will dilate a woman’s cervix and remove the fetus using forceps, clamps, or other instruments. During the procedure, the fetus is usually removed in parts.

Prior to 14 weeks’ gestation, abortions are usually performed using suction aspiration, but after 14 weeks the D and E procedure must be used, according to the American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists.

Depending upon the specific language of the law, D and E abortion bans may effectively ban all surgical abortion past 14 weeks’ gestation.

The bills,legislation drafted by the National Right to Life Committee (NRLC), redefine the D and E procedure as “dismemberment” abortion. The new laws’ graphic and medically inaccurate language describing the D and E procedure is key to NRLC’s strategy to pass similar laws in other states.

Fallin, in a statement about the abortion restriction, called the procedure “gruesome,” while a spokesperson for Brownback called the procedure “horrific.”

And Carol Tobias, president of the NRLC, told the _New York Times_ that the Kansas law is the first of what NRLC officials hope will be many state laws banning the procedure. “This law has the power to transform the landscape of abortion policy in the United States,” Tobias said.

The two states are the first in the country to legislate such bans on “dismemberment” abortions. Identical bans are pending in two other states legislatures and more bills to ban the procedure are likely to be introduced in other states.

The legislative language and the rhetoric used by anti-choice lawmakers and activists is part of a decades-old strategy by the anti-choice movement to target specific procedures used during abortion.

USING DISHONEST LANGUAGE TO PUSH ANTI-CHOICE PROPOSALS

More than a decade ago, anti-choice activists, using similar rhetoric, lobbied congressional leaders to ban the intact dilation and extraction abortion procedure. The so-called partial-birth abortion ban, a term also coined by the NRLC, was passed by Congress and signed into law by President George W. Bush in 2003.

Caitlin Borgmann, former state strategies coordinator for the American Civil Liberties Union’s Reproductive Freedom Project, told the _Kansas City Star_ that the legislative language is designed to make it difficult for lawmakers to oppose the proposals.

“It’s meant to try to create an inflammatory description that people are going to read and then support the bill because their instinct is that this sounds terrible,” Borgmann said.

“This procedure is very hard to defend,” Mary Spaulding Balch, director of state legislation for the NRLC, told the _Kansas City Star_. “I want to talk about what happens to the unborn child during an abortion and more particularly during this type of abortion.”

While the NRLC has been increasingly referring to D and E abortion as “dismemberment abortion,” often while supporting legislation on the state and federal level to ban abortion after 20 weeks, the term has long been used by anti-choice activists.

After the 2007 U.S. Supreme Court ruling in _Gonzales v. Carhart_ upheld the so-called partial-birth abortion ban, Cathy Ruse, a senior fellow for legal studies at the right-wing Family Research Council, used the term when discussing the possibility of banning D and E abortion.

“THIS COULD BE A NEW TREND AT THE STATE LEVEL”

Elizabeth Nash, senior state issues associate for the Guttmacher Institute, told _Rewire_ that reproductive rights advocates have been waiting for “another shoe to drop.” The attempt to ban D and E abortion care appears to be the first new type of abortion restriction introduced by anti-choice activist since the influx of anti-choice legislation began in 2011.

“This could be a new trend at the state level,” Nash said. “It does fall right in line with some of the trends we’ve been seeing over time. From states restricting access to post-viability abortion to the trend of 20-week abortion bans.”

Some anti-choice activists say this latest abortion ban was likely after the U.S. Supreme Court upheld the so-called partial-birth abortion. “Abortion attorneys on both sides knew that this bill was the next step,” Kathy Ostrowski, legislative director of Kansans for Life, told the _Kansas City Star_. “It was inevitable this was coming. It was a matter of timing.”

Bills to ban the D and E procedure have also been introduced in Missouri and South Carolina, and anti-choice activists in Arkansas have said that similar legislation is likely to be introduced during the state’s next legislative session in 2017.

Reproductive rights advocates are concerned about the possibility of a ban being passed in Missouri, where state lawmakers have, in recent years, aggressively sought to restrict reproductive rights.

“I’m not sure what the impact will be or how we would comply because the bill is written with non-medical language, and it’s not written by doctors. It’s written by politicians,” Mary Kogut, president and CEO of Planned Parenthood of the St. Louis Region and Southwest Missouri, told _Rewire_. “Our concern is that this seems to be part of a broader strategy that is trying to ban safe and legal abortion in Missouri.”

Planned Parenthood provides reproductive health-care services at several clinics across Missouri, and operates the state’s lone clinic that provides abortion services. The clinic has been under siege by state lawmakers over the past few years, as dozens of bills have been introduced targeting the clinic in an attempt to force its closure.

“SUBSTITUTING POLITICAL DECISIONS FOR MEDICAL DECISIONS”

The bans on D and E abortion will almost certainly face legal challenges from reproductive rights advocacy groups. Supporters of the legislation are confident in their constitutionality, and the NRLC believes the Roberts Court would uphold the new laws.

“We believe we have five votes that would allow us to ban this particular procedure,” said the NRLC’s Mary Spaulding Balch.

Ryan Kiesel, executive director of the ACLU of Oklahoma, told _Rewire_ that there are deep concerns about the constitutionality of the new Oklahoma law, and similar laws like it in other states.

“Any time you have politicians putting their political judgements ahead of the medical judgements and medical recommendations made by a woman’s doctor, it is deeply concerning,” Kiesel said. “The Constitution has routinely held that substituting political decisions for medical decisions is not the way that we should be practicing medicine in the United States.”

Kiesel said that the use of non-medical and often inflammatory language found in bans on D and E abortion, and many other types of anti-choice legislation, are an attempt to impose a political agenda in the practice of medicine.

“The inflammatory non-medical language isn’t an accident; it’s on purpose and very deliberate,” Kiesel said. “It underscores that these bills are not about medicine, they’re not about health care, they’re not about protecting women, they’re not about protecting children. These bills are about politics.”

The impact the D and E bans will have on reproductive health care remains to be seen, but abortion providers and women in need of abortion care in Kansas and Oklahoma will soon feel the impact. The Kansas law goes into effect July 1, and the Oklahoma law goes into effect November 1.

Physicians and health-care professionals have made their concerns known about the consequences of these bans.

A letter signed by 20 doctors opposing the ban was submitted to the chairman of the Kansas House Federal and State Affairs Committee, Steve Brunk, when lawmakers were considering the ban in the GOP-dominated Kansas legislature.

“We are alarmed at the unprecedented attempt of Kansas legislators to dictate how physicians should perform a safe, common, and evidence-based surgical procedure,” the letter said. “This bill would restrict the safest and most expeditious way to terminate a second-trimester pregnancy. … This legislation could also force physicians to provide substandard care to second-trimester abortion patients.”

Dr. Jennifer Wider, a physician who specializes in women’s health, told _Yahoo Health_ that the D and E procedure is typically performed for miscarriage management or in abortions due to fetal deformities or a danger to the mother’s health.

“Some women opt for second trimester abortions electively, but studies show that these women tend to be younger and of lower socioeconomic groups with less access to healthcare,” Wider said.

The D and E abortion procedure accounts for about 8 percent of abortions from 2002 through 2011, according to the Center for Disease Control.

In 2013, there were 7,479 abortions performed in the Kansas, with 89 percent performed before 12 weeks’ gestation, according to a Kansas Department of Health report. Among the 807 abortions that took place after 12 weeks, 584 were performed using D and E.

Women in those states seeking second-trimester abortions may need to undergo an alternative, nonsurgical method,~~~~ during which a physician would medically-induce labor to expel the fetus and placenta. This type of abortion care is more painful and can be more dangerous for women.

Kathleen Morrell, an~~~~ OB-GYN and a fellow of Physicians for Reproductive Health, told the _New York Times_ that this type of abortion care can involve significant periods of waiting and may require access to hospital facilities.

“When it is safe to offer a choice of induction or D and E,” she said, “my patients overwhelmingly choose D and E. They are able to be asleep and comfortable for the procedure and then can go home to their own beds at night.”

“I DON’T RECALL CALLING MY CONGRESSMAN TO HAVE HIM WEIGH IN”

The public discussion about D and E bans has primarily consisted of political debates between lawmakers and activists. The voices of the physicians who provide abortion care and the women and families who have sought a second-trimester abortion have mostly been absent.

The public is generally supportive of allowing abortion early in pregnancy, according to Gallup. However, the majority of Americans do not support allowing abortion past the second trimester of pregnancy, despite the fact that the majority of abortions taking place later in pregnancy are due to reasons such as severe fetal anomalies.

When public opinion surveys ask about whether or not people support allowing abortion to remain legal in specific circumstances, such as when a woman’s life is in danger or when the fetus may have mental or physician disorders, there is overwhelming support for reproductive rights.

“There’s a lot of education we need to do around the need for abortion, around women’s decision making, around access,” Nash said.

“There’s lots of reasons why women end up having abortions later than 8 or 10 weeks of pregnancy,” she continued. “We have to make sure that we have services available to them, and that the public is aware of these needs and understands that we need to maintain access.”

Women who have had pregnancies terminated through the D and E procedure shared their experiences with _Rewire_. Some of them spoke on the condition of anonymity. All of them shared grave concerns about the consequences of these bans.

“This choice, if taken away, leads to a slippery slope for other decisions not only for women but for all Americans,” said one woman. “If we are forced to carry dying children to term, who is going to pay for the extensive medical interventions required to care for them or keep them alive? Who decides what interventions are appropriate for such children, or how far doctors should go to keep them alive?”

April Salazar, who has shared her experience having a D and E abortion with the _New York Times_ and _Mother Jones_, told _Rewire_ that she wants women to be able to choose the care that is best for them.

“I think it’s outrageous that politicians, with no medical expertise in women’s health, can outlaw medical procedures that have been proven to be safe, thereby forcing women into potentially life-threatening procedures,” Salazar said.

Julie Bindeman, a psychologist who specializes in pregnancy loss, told _Rewire_ about her experience terminating a pregnancy through a D and E abortion. During her pregnancy the fetus showed indications of brain anomalies, and further testing confirmed that the brain was not forming normally.

Bindeman, at 18 weeks of pregnancy, had a D and E abortion performed.

“It was in a hospital with a wonderfully generous physician,” she said. “I felt cared for and safe, despite these heartbreaking circumstances.”

Bindeman echoed the statements of other reproductive rights advocates for the need for the public to understand that these abortions typically occur because of dire circumstances. “These choices are not made on a whim or lightly,” Bindeman said.

Supporters of these bills, Bindeman said, have never been in her shoes, and don’t understand that for her, abortion was a life-saving procedure that gave her the opportunity to have a family. The laws do provide a sole exception in which a D and E abortion can be performed to prevent “death or to avert serious risk of substantial and irreversible physical impairment of a major bodily function” of the pregnant person.

“The decision was a heart-wrenching one and anything but simple,” she said. “We had the counsel of our physicians, family, and clergy. … I don’t recall calling my congressman to have him weigh in.”

question: What is the main subject of the article?

answer: A set of new laws being introduced in Oklahoma and other states to restrict access to abortion

question: Approximately when was the article written?

answer: Most likely, sometime in 2016

question: What procedure is criminalized under the Oklahoman law discussed?

answer: Dilation and evacuation (D and E)

question: Who does the author feel has been left out of discussions about the law?

answer: Medical professionals and the women who have had an abortion themselves

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The author discusses a new law in Oklahoma which criminalizes dilation and evacuation abortions. The author feels that the law, and similar laws in other states, is unclear and misleading in its language and that it is based on politics rather than medical knowledge.


text:
Rider

My mom has always been supportive of my career as a musician. My dad never got around to it. The only bands he’d ever listen to were the Beatles and Rolling Stones. He wanted the Beatles played at his funeral, which he got. My mom never talks about the music that she listens to  except for her uncle Alan who toured the Midwest in the 50’s as a troubadour;  he’s still famous in our town.

I haven’t been home in a while, not that I miss it much. I moved to LA when I was 23. I was bored by the people at home. I was bored by my job at the grocery store and tired of not seeing anything. When I moved I had most of my” LA-experiences” during the first six months, right drugs- wrong people, that sort of thing. I thought the substances would inspire me as it seemed to inspire others but that never happened. I also played some gigs with local small-timers but it didn't amount to much.

My fourth summer in LA came around and thats when I met Terrie outside a used-car shop. I’d been looking to replace dad’s station-wagon that I’d driven to the coast. As  I was standing there looking over some of my options I saw the glint of peroxide-blonde hair and sweaty fishnet stockings out of the corner of my eye. I remember the coral lipstick, which I later learned was her favorite, so shiny on those lips. She walked up to me to bum a cigarette. As I’d recently quit smoking I apologized and told her I didn’t have any on me. Disappointed, she asked me for a lighter to borrow if she could bum a smoke from a man that was standing by a newsstand across the street. I didn’t have a lighter either but I reached into my vest pocket for the book of matches I always kept there. As I handed it to her she thanked me and smiled in the most heartbreaking way. I knew that I had to make her mine. Although I was more of what you might call the singer-songwriter type than a rocker, this girl with her glam rock look was something else. Underneath that make up I could see that she was pretty in an old-fashioned way. Later, when we were married, I used to tell her that she was like a burning wheat field blowing in the summer wind; she never understood what I meant and said I was a sucker. Our courtship was quick because her parents were very religious. Terrie was only 21 when we married but they consented and gave us their blessing because I was “a good God-fearing Midwestern boy.”

	Through Terrie I got more involved in the scene and discovered I had a knack for writing catchy riffs. I joined some of the locals who were in need of a guitarist and not long after that we played as support band for a famous band on their US tour. Months of touring and debauchery followed but after rising tensions in the band and disagreements with our management we decided to call it quits.

         Then Terrie got pregnant. She was excited but seeing as her job at the record store didn’t pay much and my being unemployed, I was worried to say the least. Fortunately I lucked out in joining as a touring and studio session guitarist with a band that had just signed  deal with a big label. Unfortunately this meant being on the road for long stretches at a time. Things quickly went downhill in our relationship and it was while touring in Japan that I got the terrible news that Terrie had suffered a miscarriage. She was inconsolable and quit her job. I tried to be home as much as I could to care for her but my obligations took me out of town again. Things between us never recovered after that and I blame myself. Two months after the loss of our child I got a call from Roy, a sergeant in the Marines who tells me he’s in love with my wife and she is in love with him and they are going to Germany. While this news hurt at first I can’t say I was surprised; I kept my nose to the grind to give me something else to think about. One tour lead to another and after 5 years the band went through a lineup change and I was thrust into the role of frontman. Evidently I did something right as we quickly started selling out the largest arenas and stadiums. We got through 3 good tours before ticket sales started to dwindle. These days we play to fairly large clubs and such, I don’t complain, seeing as it brings in good money. I live a private and enjoyable life.
	I’ve never met Terrie since our marriage ended but last I heard Roy was killed in a combat exercise and she had gotten remarried to a journalist. Even though our relationship went to pieces I still cherish terrie and our times together.
	At the venues we play the band usually has extensive requirements to ensure their comfort. My only requests on the rider are one ham sandwich and two fingers of bourbon. I usually go out into whichever city we’re playing that night and walk around while eating my sandwich. Even though the band is still fairly popular people seldom recognize me off the stage. I also try to find a bookstore to buy something by a local author for those long flights and bus rides. Just before showtime I’ll find a quiet spot in the venue and raise a glass for my Terrie.

title: "Rider"

question: What does the story say about the band's bassist?

question: What does the story say about the narrator?

answer: The narrator is from the midwest and always wanted to become a musician. He was getting bored of small-town life, so he moved to LA when he was 23, did some drugs, and hung out with the wrong people while playing gigs with local small-timers that didn't amount to much. He got married and his career took off as a session guitarist, but they eventually split after his wife had a miscarriage and he was never home due to touring all the time. The narrator got bumped up to the role of frontman after five years and the band was big through three good tours. Eventually, their shine faded, but they still get to play in fairly large clubs that bring in good money that allows the narrator to live a private and enjoyable life.

question: What happened between the narrator and Terrie?

answer: The narrator met Terrie at a used car shop during his fourth summer in LA. It was love at first sight and they got married pretty quickly. Terrie was the one that got the narrator more involved in the music scene. Terrie got pregnant and the narrator lucked out in joining as a touring and studio session guitarist with a band that had just signed a deal with a big label. Things went downhill from there because the narrator was on the road all the time and Terrie suffered a miscarriage. He hasn't seen Terrie after their marriage ended, but got word that she got remarried a few times. He always thinks about her, still cherishing their times together, and makes time to raise a glass to Terrie just before each show.

question: What does the story say about the narrator's early career?

answer: The narrator started his career working at a grocery store in his hometown. He moved to LA to start a career as a musician and ended up playing gigs with small-timers that didn't amount to much. He joined a local band as a guitarist and they opened for a famous band on their US tour but disbanded after rising tensions and disagreements with their management team. The narrator got lucky when he joined a new band as a touring and studio session guitarist. They toured a lot, and after five years, the narrator was given the role of frontman. After three successful tours, the narrator's band eventually lost their shine, but they still play regular gigs at large clubs which leads to private and enjoyable life for the narrator.


text:
RON GALLO[1] is an American musician, singer, songwriter and artist. He began a solo career in 2014, after fronting various bands including Philadelphia-based band Toy Soldiers and since then has released three albums, _Heavy Meta_, Stardust Birthday Party and Really Nice Guys EP.[2] Stylistically Gallo has shifted from release to release with his recent albums exploring art rock and garage punk.[3] During live performances 2016 - 2019 Gallo was backed by bassist, Joe Bisirri and drummer, Dylan Sevey.[4]

Career

On December 15, 2016, NPR premiered a video for “Please Yourself” from _Heavy Meta_ in which Gallo disrupts an intersection of downtown Nashville by performing on a truck bed. The article describes Gallo as an “insurgent poet and rock 'n' roll disruptor” and the album as a “burst of literate electricity” [5] _Heavy Meta_ was released worldwide on February 4, 2017 on New West Records. In support of the record, Gallo has toured nationally and internationally, sharing the stage with White Reaper, Twin Peaks, Thee Oh Sees, The Black Angels, The Gories, FIDLAR, and Hurray for the Riff Raff amongst others.[6] Gallo has also received coverage from various national outlets including The Fader,[7] and has performed at festivals such as Coachella, Bonnaroo,[8] Austin City Limits Music Festival,[9] SXSW,[10] and Governors Ball Music Festival.[11]

On January 16th, 2018 the Really Nice Guys EP was release via New West Records. It is a joke concept album about Gallo’s experience in the music industry. The EP explores many different genres, from thrash punk to psychedelic pop to indian influenced music. The EP also features a skit entitled, “The East Nashville Kroger Conversation” featuring Gallo and his two band members pretending to run into each other at a grocery store in Nashville. On the day of the release, the band filmed a mockumentary of the same title, following Gallo as he goes through an identity crisis as well as the band around town as they perform a series of unsuccessful release shows and showcasing for their record label. It was directed by Christian Gentry. [12]

On October 5th, Gallo’s second full-length “Stardust Birthday Party” was released. The record was a slight sonic shift from his previous work exploring more post-punk, and new wave influences while discussing his own spiritual path and asking a variety of existential questions. The 7th Level described the album genre as “Zen Punk” [13] The Guardian described the album as “Stardust Birthday Party brings the fruits of meditation to Nashville-based Gallo’s jams – a little like Bodhisattva Vow marked the influx of MCA’s Buddhism into the Beastie Boys.”[14]

On March 14th and 15th, 2020, Gallo and a newly formed band performed two live stream performances from his home on Instagram live as result of the spread of Coronavirus and his appearance at MELTED festival in Columbus, OH being cancelled. The performance was to make up for the lost show and to encourage people to stay home during the pandemic. This performance was one of the first of its kind in response to the virus. [15]

Due to the success of the live streams, Gallo launched REALLY NICE FEST on March 18, 2020. Calling it “an ongoing, everchanging digital festival” named after a blog/online creative outlet REALLY NICE (http://reallynice.world) he started in December 2019. The digital festival features himself and other artists and friends from all over the world performing live stream sets, Q & A, DJ sets, talk show segments, tutorials, etc. The festival is planned to continue on through the duration of the Coronavirus quarantine period. [16]

On June 10th, 2020, Gallo released a new single “YOU ARE ENOUGH”, signaling a stylistic transformation into a more pop direction with influence from 90's R&B and Hip-Hop, following up with three more singles “HIDE (MYSELF BEHIND YOU)”, “WUNDAY (CRAZY AFTER DARK)” and “EASTER ISLAND” and announcing a new album “PEACEMEAL” out in February 2021. [17]

Discography

Ron Gallo

-   _RONNY_ (2014)
-   _HEAVY META_ (2017)
-   _Really Nice Guys_ (2018)
-   _Stardust Birthday Party_ (2018)

Toy Soldiers

-   _The Maybe Boys_ (2013)

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title: Ron Gallo

question: Who is Ron Gallo?

answer: Ron Gallo is an American musician, singer, songwriter, and artist. His career took off after fronting in various bands, including "Toy Soldiers."

question: Write a short summary of his career history.

answer: His first album, Heavy Meta, was released in 2017. After his tour, he released a joke concept album about his experience in the music industry "Really Nice Guys" in 2018 then in the same year, Gallo's full-length album "Stardust Birthday Party" was released on October 5th. Then on June 10th, 2020, Gallo released a new single "You are Enough."

question: List all the albums he released since 2014.

answer: Heavy Meta, Stardust Birthday Party, and Really Nice Guys.

question: What's the latest single he released?

answer: "You are Enough"

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Ron Gallo is an American musician, singer, songwriter, and artist whose solo career took off in 2014. He released his first album in 2016, Heavy Meta, then later released Stardust Birthday Party and Really Nice Guys. His latest single is "You are Enough" which was released on June 10, 2020.


text:
Night was quickly approaching, and the doves had already taken to the air. She watched them from her spot by the parkade, and listened to their gentle cooing, and wished that she could be so free, to spread wings and go where the wind would take her.

She had been living in the parkade for over a month now. The doves had followed her all the way from Cliff's Edge, her previous home. She had been forced to leave: winter was far colder by Cliff's Edge, and the snow tended to fall in great white sheets. Her journey had been long and arduous, and the doves had been there every step of the way. She welcomed their company, because it was the only company she had.

A small dove landed on her shoulder and cooed softly in her ear. It ruffled its feathers, then took to the air once again. They had grown accustomed to her, she knew. To them, she was just an oversized dove, wingless and beakless but a friend nonetheless. They never judged her or ridiculed her because of the way she looked, or talked, or lived. They just accepted.

She gazed up wistfully at the Buniard Building and noticed there were a few lights on in some of the apartments. Still early, then. Some of them were probably having supper now: families eating around the dinner table, or couples snuggled warmly infront of the television set, eating their T.V. dinners. The doves were her companions, her family. And the Buniard Building was her television set.

Through it she experienced the lives of its inhabitants. She learned to love some of them, and hate others, and often she caught herself rooting for one member of a family or another, and hoping things would come out right for them in the end. The day Mrs. Parkins suffered a heart attack she had been there, watching in horror, worried and angry at the injustices of life. Tonight Mr. Parkins was alone at home, pacing, clasping his hands tightly behind his back, moving like a caged animal - restless and lonely. Somehow she knew Mrs. Parkins had passed away. Perhaps it was the way he slouched, as though he had given up hope, or the way he had stopped brooding, as though there was nothing left to hope for.

She turned her gaze back to the doves, and saw them painted against a full moon. The moon was larger then she had ever seen it before, and took up a large portion of the night sky - a beacon among the tiny stars, and she was reminded of the story she had read in one of the papers, about a space shuttle that would soon be launched from Cape Canaveral and put the first man on the moon. How ridiculous it seemed, to spend so much money and effort to get to the moon, when there was so much suffering right here on Earth.

A chill wind started to blow. She heard its dismal howl, and watched as it overturned old carton boxes and sent newspapers skittering across the cold cement like mice. A plastic bag rolled down the road, hopping and creeping as though it possessed a life of its own. She started to shiver, and hugged herself tightly. She got up and brought a trash can from the parkade, filled it with the newspapers she had found that day - the Herald and the Boston Globe and the New York Times - and lit a small fire.

Startled by the sudden heat, the doves took to the air, and just when it seemed they would go up to the trees to roost for the night, they returned to her outstretched arms, and pecked at the bread crumbs she held in her hands.

As her gaze drew back to the Buniard Building, she had a strange premonition. Just as she had known that Mrs. Parkins was dead, she knew that something was going to happen tonight. The feeling was vague and far off, like a mirage in the desert, and she wondered if perhaps - and just like the mirage - it was a matter of wishful thinking. Did she want something to happen? Perhaps looking up at the Buniard was not enough, perhaps she longed for something more, something real. Something that would happen to her for a change.

Soon the feeling passed, leaving her cold and tired.

Young Vanessa Lewis was out by her bedroom window, gazing at the sky, and, in another apartment, Mr. Parkins was still pacing restlessly. Vanessa was a strange girl, but one of her favourite people to watch. She was forever arguing with her parents, like teenagers will, and sneaking off in the middle of the night. She spent long hours at her bedroom window, watching the doves, admiring their grace and beauty, not knowing that she herself was being watched.

Time passed, and soon even the sight of the pretty, wistful girl was not enough to keep her interest, and her gaze drifted, as it tended to do, back to the doves. They were acting strangely tonight, moving in short, abrupt movements, taking to the air and then returning, not remaining in one place for too long. Restless, she thought. Maybe they, too, felt that something was going to happen tonight. She would worry about that another time, though. It was getting late.

"Come," she whispered, "we'll find a place to rest this tired body of mine."

The pain in her back had returned with the cold, and she found it difficult to walk. She made her way to the park nearby, the Royal Grand park, a small sign stated, although it was far from royal and hardly what she would call grand. She made her bed in the lush, wet grass, and lay beneath the stars, and waited for sleep to take her. Around her the doves cooed and pawed at her clothing, perhaps looking for a last scrap of bread before they went up to roost.

But she felt restless, and sleep did not come quickly. She sat up and shivered slightly, and her eyes were drawn once again to the Buniard. Something was going to happen tonight. The realisation excited her. It was a warm feeling inside of her, as though a candle had been lit in her belly. Her eyes sparkled with a life she thought she had lost long ago.

And that's when she saw him, silhouette against the night, running. With a violent shudder the warm feeling was ripped from her, and in its place was only dread. Something bad was going to happen tonight. Something unspeakable.

title: The Bird Lady

question: What does the story say about migratory species?

question: What does the story say about the residents of the Buniard?

answer: The narrator watches them, and they seem to be the only human relation the narrator has. The residents are from many different ages and walks of life. Some of them are good people, and some are bad. A few notable figures are Mr. and Mrs. Parker, the latter of whom the narrator believes died recently, and Vanessa Lewis, who likes watching the narrator's doves. By the end of the story, the narrator knows that something bad will happen to someone in the Buniard building.

question: What does the text say about the narrator?

answer: She seems to be a loner who travels with a lot of doves. She prefers the company of her doves to people because they don't judge her. She's homeless, currently residing in a parkade. Across the parkade, there's the Buniard building, which she watches like its inhabitants watch TV. She likes some people and feels sad about their bad luck. She seems to yearn for something different to happen in her life until she senses that something bad will happen.


text:
HAENG UNG (“H.U.”) LEE (July 20, 1936 – October 5, 2000) was the co-founder and first Grand Master of the American Taekwondo Association.

Career

H.U. Lee was born in Manchuria, China in 1936. After World War II, his family relocated to South Korea, where Lee began his martial arts training in 1953, and earned his first degree black belt in 1954.[1] In 1956, Lee entered the Korean army as a trainer for special troops. He spent this time as part of an intelligence unit on Baengnyoung Island.[2] After three years, he retired and opened a taekwondo school at Osan Air Force Base. There, he met Richard Reed, who would later be the sponsor to his emigration to the United States in 1962.[3] Lee moved to Omaha, Nebraska, where in 1969 he co-founded the American Taekwondo Association.[4] Omaha remained the organization's headquarters until Lee relocated it to Little Rock, Arkansas in 1977. H.U. Lee developed the discipline of Songham Taekwondo in 1983.[5] And in 1990, the ATA Master's Council awarded Lee the rank of 9th degree black belt and the title of “Grand Master.”

Awards

Haeng Ung Lee was an active participant in charity work, and the ATA provided funding towards numerous organizations such as the Muscular Dystrophy Association, the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, Arkansas Children's Hospital, and Arkansas Special Olympics. In 1991, he established the H.U. Lee Scholarship Foundation to provide funding towards active college students.[6] H.U. Lee has additionally received several awards for his works and contributions, including, but not limited to, Key of the City Awards from Omaha, Nebraska; Corpus Christi, Texas; Little Rock, Arkansas; Evansville, Indiana; Tallahassee, Florida; and Panama City, Florida. He also received the Kaleidoscope Award in 1994 and the Crystal Award in 1996 from the Little Rock Convention and Visitor's Bureau. [7] Lee has also been inducted into the Arkansas Sports Hall of Fame.

Death

On October 5, 2000, Lee died of cancer.[8] He was buried in Forest Hills Memorial Park in Alexander, Arkansas.[9] About 3,000 people attended his funeral in Little Rock, Arkansas, and President Bill Clinton sent his condolences to Little Rock Mayor Jim Dailey.[10] Lee's brother Soon Ho was later promoted to 9th degree Grand Master. H.U. Lee's widow, Sun C. Lee, received her late husband's shares in the company and became the new chairman of the board of the ATA. H.U. Lee was posthumously promoted to 10th degree black belt, and awarded the title “Eternal Grand Master”. He is the first ever to attain this rank in the ATA. In 2007, some of Lee's heirs decided to give a tribute back to Lee's home in the United States, and arranged to have a traditional Korean gate built in Korea and shipped to Little Rock. This costed about $1.4 million, and the gate itself weighs about 8 tons.[11] This gate stands at the end of the Main Street Bridge in the heart of Little Rock, Arkansas, representing a symbol of both friendship and between South Korea and the United States, and as a tribute to martial arts. [12]

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title: Haeng Ung Lee

question: Describe some the of the awards that Haeng Ung Lee received.

answer: Some of the awards that Haeng Ung Lee received were the Key of the City Awards from Omaha, the Kaleidoscope Award in 1994, and the Crystal Award in 1996. Lee had also been inducted into the Arkansas Sports Hall of Fame. As he received many awards, he also established the H.U. Lee Scholarship Foundation to provide funding to active college students.

question: How did Lee's brother, Soon Ho, memorialize him and his work?

question: State some interesting facts about Haeng Ung Lee.

answer: Lee received the rank of 9th degree black belt in 1990 and was given the title of "Grand Master.", Lee earned his first degree black belt in 1954. Lee was in the Korean army as a trainer for special troops as well. When Lee retired, he opened a taekwondo school at Osan Air Force Base.


text:
DASAHEV LÓPEZ SAAVEDRA (born July 27, 1989), better known as EL DASA, is a Mexican singer from Hermosillo, Sonora. El Dasa has been nominated for two Latin Grammy Awards.

Early life and career

At age 15, El Dasa became the lead singer of Banda Costa Azul, from Hermosillo, Sonora. He participated in the last edition of Mexico's La Academia 6: Última Generación, but he was eliminated in the second round. At age 18, he emigrated to Los Angeles where he was hired by Vicente Fernandez as his driver, where El Dasa would sing for his idol. The Mexican icon was moved by El Dasa's singing and invited him on-stage with him at the Gibson Amphitheater to duet on “Amor de los Dos,” and encouraged the audience to support his career.[1]

On 2016, NBC Universo released a series by the name of El Vato inspired on the real life story of El Dasa, the principal actor of the series.[2]

In August 2017 the new season of EL VATO on NBC Universo will premiere. This season will continue to tell the real life story of El Dasa.

Discography

-   _Pa' La Raza_ (2012)
-   _Alegre Y Enamorado_ (2014)
-   Muve Sessions Alegre Y Enamorado (2014)
-   ’’ El Hijo Del Desierto ‘’ (2017)
-   Pedro Infante 100 Años (2017)

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title: El Dasa

question: What is El Dasa's full name?

answer: Dasahev Lopes Saavedra.

question: Has he ever gotten a Latin Grammy award?

answer: At the time of the article, no.

question: When did he emigrate to LA?

answer: At the age of 18.

question: What is the name of the TV series inspired by El Dasa's life?

answer: El Vato.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The text is about El Dasa, a Mexican singer.


text:
BERNARD FRANCIS “MIKE” KELLY (May 1, 1896October 23, 1968) was an American baseball player, coach and manager.

Career

Player

Kelly mading his playing debut in 1916 for St Mary's in the Interstate League. He played one season there before moving in 1917 to the Central League team South Bend/Peoria Benders/Distillers. He again lasted one year before moving to Toledo in the American Association. He played at Toledo until 1920.[1]

Player/manager

In 1921, Kelly began his management career at the Spartanburg Pioneers while still a player.[2][3]

A year later, he moved to the Spartanburg Spartans in the South Atlantic League and, between 1922 and 1929, played and managed the Spartans where he won a league championship in 1925.[4][5]

Coach and manager

After retiring as a player, Kelly coached for the Chicago White Sox between 1930 and 1931.[6]

In 1931 Kelly left the White Sox to coach the Newark Bears.[7]

Kelly managed the Jersey City Skeeters in 1933.[8][9]

In 1934, he moved to the Chicago Cubs where he was a coach.[10][11]

Between 1936 and 1937, Kelly managed the Syracuse Chiefs.[12][13]

He later coached with the Boston Braves and Pittsburgh Pirates.[14][15]

In 1944, he managed the Indianapolis Indians in the American Association.[16]

Scout

Between 1948 and 1950, he was a scout for the Pittsburgh Pirates.[17]

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title: Mike Kelly (baseball, born 1896)

question: When did Kelly make his debut?

answer: Kelly made his debut in 1916 at the Interstate League.

question: Where did Kelly begin his management career?

answer: He began his management career in 1921 at the Spartanburg Pioneers while he was still a player.

question: Did he play and manage the Spartanburg team?

answer: Yes, between 1922 and 1929, he played and managed the Spartans.

question: What did Kelly do after retiring?

answer: After retiring as a player, Kelly started coaching for the Chicago White Sox, Neward Bears, Chicago Cubs, Boston Braves, and Pittsburg Pirates, one after the other.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer:
Mike Kelly was an American baseball player, coach, and manager. He made his debut in 1916 as a player at the Interstate League. In 1921, he began managing Spartanburg Pioneers. He continued managing the team and also playing for them.

After retiring as a player, Kelly coached many teams, some of them are - Chicago White Sox, Newark Bears, and Boston Braves.