text:
PROFESSOR CAROL L. PRIVES FRS is the Da Costa Professor of Biological Sciences at Columbia University.[1] She is known for her work in the characterisation of p53, an important tumor suppressor protein frequently mutated in cancer.

Education

Prives was educated in Canada, received her BSc and PhD[2] in 1966[3] from McGill University, undertaking research in the lab of Juda Hirsch Quastel.[4] She pursued postdoctoral fellowships at Albert Einstein College of Medicine and the Weizmann Institute under the mentorship of Professor Michel Revel. after which she became a faculty member at the Weizmann Institute.[5] She received an honorary Doctor of Sciences degree from McGill University, her alma mater, on 29 May 2014 for her contributions to the understanding of p53.[6]

Research and career

In 1995, she was appointed as the Da Costa Professor of Biology at Columbia University.[7] She was the chair of the Department of Biological Sciences from 2000 to 2004.[8]

Her early interest in the SV40 DNA tumour virus as a model for eukaryotic gene expression and oncogenic transformation led her to the study of p53.[9] Since the late 1980s, her lab has focused on the p53 tumour suppressor gene, one of the most frequently mutated in human cancers.

Prives has served as chair of the Experimental Virology and the Cell and Molecular Pathology study sections of the National Institutes of Health. She has been a member of the Scientific Advisory Boards of the Dana–Farber Cancer Institute, the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, the Massachusetts General Cancer Center, the National Cancer Institute,[10] and the Weizmann Institute.[11] She was a member of the board of directors of the American Association for Cancer Research from 2004 to 2007.

She is a member of the editorial boards of _Cell_,[12] _Oncogene_[13] and the _Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences_.[14]

Awards

-   1996 NIH MERIT Award
-   2000 Elected Fellow, American Academy of Arts and Sciences
-   2001 Elected Fellow, American Academy of Microbiology
-   2005 Elected Member, Institute of Medicine
-   2008 Elected Member, National Academy of Sciences[15]
-   2009 Rosalind E. Franklin Award for Women in Science,[16] National Cancer Institute
-   2010 Paul Janssen Prize in Biotechnology and Medicine, Center for Advanced Biotechnology and Medicine
-   2011 AACR-Women in Cancer Research Charlotte Friend Memorial Lectureship[17]
-   2015 Elected Fellow, AACR Academy[18]
-   2020 Elected Fellow, The Royal Society[19]

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[2]

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[11]  International Board 2018 |url=http://www.weizmann.ac.il/conferences/InternationalBoard2018/prof-carol-prives |website=www.weizmann.ac.il |accessdate=3 May 2019}}

[12] https://www.cell.com/cell/editorial-board

[13]

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[19]

title: Carol Prives

question: What field did Professor Carol L. Prives's work in?

answer: Biological sciences.

question: Name her three most recent achievements.

answer: She was awarded the AACR-Women in Cancer Research Charlotte Friend Memorial Lectureship in 2011, was elected fellow in the AACR Academy in 2015, and was elected fellow in the Royal Society in 2020.

question: Summarize her educational attainment.

answer: Educated in Canada, Prives received her BSc and PhD in 1966, pursued postdoctoral fellowships, and then received the honorary Doctor of Sciences degree in 2014.

question: Summarize her research.

answer: Prives's interest is in the SV40 DNA tumor virus, and her research focuses on p53 tumor suppressor gene.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer:
Carol Prives, a professor at Columbia University, focuses her research on p53 tumor suppressor gene,  one of the most frequently mutated in human cancers. She has received a lot of awards and recognitions in the field of biological sciences.

 interest is in the SV40 DNA tumor virus, and her research focuses on p53 tumor suppressor gene.


split: train

text:
NORFOLK & WESTERN 2156 is a four-cylinder compound articulated (Mallet) steam locomotive with a 2-8-8-2 (Whyte notation) wheel arrangement. The Norfolk & Western Railway built it in 1942 at its Roanoke Shops in Roanoke, Virginia as a member of the Norfolk & Western's Y6a class. It is the strongest-pulling extant steam locomotive in the world, although it is not operational. It was retired from regular rail service in July 1959, and is now owned by the Museum of Transportation in St. Louis, Missouri.

In 2014, the museum leased it for five years to the Virginia Museum of Transportation in Roanoke, Virginia. It was towed from St. Louis to Roanoke on May 10, 2015 and towed back to St. Louis on June 10, 2020.

Historic significance

Norfolk & Western 2156 is the sole survivor of the railroad's Y5, Y6, Y6a, and Y6b classes (in final form referred to as the “Improved Y5/Y6 class”). These locomotives developed 152,206 lbs of tractive effort when built, with later modifications bringing them closer to 170,000 lbs. By comparison, the Union Pacific Big Boy locomotives developed of tractive effort. The only successful steam locomotives that developed somewhat more tractive effort, the Virginian AE class 2-10-10-2s, pulled trains at about 8 mph (13 km/h), while the N&W Y6's regularly pulled trains 50 mph (80 km/h), and some anecdotal evidence exists that they pulled trains up to 63 mph (101 km/h).

N&W 2156 is also one of the Y6a's that received a new firebox with an extended combustion chamber of the type used on the Y6b class, which increased drawbar horsepower from 4400 hp (3.3 MW) at 20 mph (32 km/h) to 5600 hp (4.2 MW) at 25 mph (40 km/h).

Steam versus diesel tests, upgrades, and controversies

Coal traffic was N&W's largest source of revenue, and it had arguably the most modern and efficient steam locomotives of any major U.S. railroad. Accordingly, N&W resisted conversion from coal-burning steam locomotives to oil-burning diesels longer than most. In 1952, N&W tested its A-class and Y6b-class locomotives against a four-unit Electro-Motive Division (at that time, of General Motors) F7 diesel set. The tests indicated that fuel costs and similar items were roughly the same, and the test was considered a tie. However, diesels eventually won out for lower maintenance and other operational costs.

Retrospective analyses of these tests have led to suggestions that diesel locomotive builder EMD and N&W cheated in the competition by using locomotives with secret modifications unsuited for daily work.[1][2] However, the greater weight of evidence and analysis indicates that N&W did not cheat on these tests, and that the only improvements were the ones N&W publicized and later incorporated into many locomotives.[3][4] Also, the major participants in this debate all appear to agree that N&W did ultimately modify most of its Y5, Y6, Y6a, and Y6b locomotives (including N&W 2156) with a new “intercepting/reducing valve” and ballast on the front engine, which increased their tractive effort.[5]

Operational history

Norfolk & Western used 2156 and the other Y6-class locomotives primarily for slower, heavy freight trains in the more mountainous districts in the Pocahontas, Radford, and Shenandoah Divisions. They mostly hauled manifest freight and coal trains.

When diesel locomotives took over the mainline steam operations, the Y6-type locomotives spent their last two years mostly on mine and other coal-field runs.

In July 1959, N&W donated 2156 to the St. Louis Museum of Transportation.

Current status

[N&W 2156 on display at Roanoke, May 2017] The museum cosmetically restored the locomotive in 1985.

In 2014, the museum agreed to lease the locomotive to Norfolk Southern and the Virginia Museum of Transportation in Roanoke, Virginia, in return for an EMD FT B unit.[6] On May 9–12, 2015, the locomotive was towed to its temporary home.

On May 31, 2015, 2156 was reunited with N&W Class A No. 1218 and the recently restored Class J No. 611 as N&W's “The Big Three”.[7][8]

On June 10, 2020, 2156 left the Virginia Museum of Transportation in Roanoke, VA to go back to the St. Louis Museum of Transportation. It arrived back at the St. Louis Museum of Transportation on June 15, 2020.

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[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

title: Norfolk and Western 2156

question: Describe the type of machine the Norfolk & Western 2156 is.

answer: The Norfolk & Western is a four-cylinder compound articulated steam locomotive. It is the sole survivor of the railroad's Y5, Y^, Y6a and Y6b classes. These locomotives developed 152,206 pounds of tractive effort when built. It was retired from regular rail service in July 1959.

question: What it the history of 2156?

answer: Norfolk & Western used 2156 for slower, heavier freight trains in the more mountainous districts in the Pocahontas, Radford and Shenandoah Divisions. In July 1959 it was donated to the Saint Louis museum of transportation. The museum cosmetically restored the locomotive in 1985. It was loaned to the Virigina Museum of transportation between 2014 and 2020.


text:
I wrote this on the fly last night, may need some editing for grammar and such, but let me know what you think.
It is entitled       **WHOLE**

Not until living about twenty years of life did I realize that I was not alone in this world. I grew up in a Christian home and truly believed in God, I still do, but I never felt like there were people around me. I went to a private high school and was taught by fantastic teachers about all sorts of fascinating topics. I went to gym class and excelled at walking laps while the popular kids played basketball. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t an outcast, nor did I believe that I was better than everyone else and thus didn’t participate, it’s just, I once played a game of knockout and when I won against the star basketball player (who later went to play for the best college team in the country), I decided that I didn’t like basketball anymore. That’s in the past though; I am now in college and have nothing to do with the gym.
I guess before continuing with my story I should tell you who I am, but that is no simple task either. My name is, for all intents and purposes of this story, Daniel West. Not only is my name Daniel West, but my father’s name was also Daniel West. You see, my father died well before I was born and my mother named me after him. He didn’t know he was having a son before he died. Having a son was his dream.
Everyone always tells me that I look just like my father, but I have my mother’s smile. It’s the dimples. Sadly, I also inherited my eyesight from my father. My favorite thing in the world is waking up every morning and poking myself in the eyes several times after stubbing my toe on the dresser and nearly falling down the stairs, and all this happens before breakfast. My jet black hair and slim face are some of my favorite features that make me happy to be the descendant of my father.

Jess, my older sister by six years, adds another interesting dynamic to the house. She still lives at home and has two kids, she was raped three years ago; the man was never caught.  She hasn’t been the same since that day, but the twins are just learning to walk so she doesn’t have much time to think about it anymore. I wish she could find a nice guy to marry; she could use a man in her life. I offer to watch my nephews for her so she can go to a bar and meet someone, but she always says I am sweet, but she doesn’t have time to drink and she is too tired because of the kids and work to date. I don’t see why not, once the kids are asleep she sits in the Lazy Boy and drinks a cup of hot tea staring into space. She could stand to be staring into a man’s eyes for once.

My mother is the happiest, most hardworking, woman I know. She works two jobs during the week and another job on weekends, when she isn’t watching the twins. Beautiful as ever, she is. Her grey green eyes and bright smile, dimples as big as the craters on the moon always brightens anyone’s day. I am just glad that I didn’t inherit that hotrod red hair of hers; I like having a soul. Don’t tell her I said that, she always gives me sass when I pull out the ginger jokes. “Daniel that is not a way to treat you mother, or any other women! Red hair does not mean that I do not have a soul. What are they teaching you at that expensive college that you’re going to?” She scolds me, holding back a smile; it’s a little scary, even if she isn’t serious. I sometimes call her just to say something about her hair, because I never get to see her. Except during breakfast.

Breakfast is my favorite ten minutes on weekdays. The family all sits down together, except Tuesdays and Thursdays when my mom has to go into work early and Fridays when my sister takes the kids to daycare early so she can get some shopping done before work. I make us pancakes and eggs and we talk about the weather and what so and so did down the street. The simple conversations are my favorite, because it reminds me that, though we never see each other for more than ten minutes on any given day, we are still alive.

It does make me sad though. If my dad had been allowed to buy the hand gun he had tried to buy the week before he, along with five others, was shot, he would be with us and I would have a father. He had gone with a friend of his, a police officer, to the gun range weekly for months to learn how to handle and shoot a firearm. When he went to the store they informed him that he had to go through several levels of background checks and tests before he could purchase his first handgun. It angers me that the man who shot him had gone through the same process and was still a criminal. You would think that the governments’ strict control over the weapons would ensure that guns were not put into crazy people’s hands.

Growing up without a father and with a mother who works three jobs was tough and still is. I had to teach myself how to cook, shave, and tie a tie for prom. Not that I had a date to prom, I am too quiet and people think that I lack confidence because of that. “No one likes a man who doesn’t have enough confidence.” One girl said to me when I asked her out. The truth is, I am very confident in who I am, it’s just I can’t be loud or attract attention to myself; I never have been able to.  It’s strange, I try to yell and the loudest I can get can be heard no more than across the room, and that is when I am angry. I’m never angry so really, I can only be as loud as a normal conversation tone. That doesn’t explain the lack of appeared confidence. What does explain it is, I am humble, humble to the point that I can’t be mean and I feel prideful if I draw attention to myself in anyway. When I try to I usually get weird looks anyways, so it doesn’t matter to me. Much.
The point I am trying to get at, the one that started this whole rant is. It has been twenty years and I have always felt mostly alone. Despite my mother, sister, and nephews, a few good friends who all go to schools hours away, and a being in a great college, I couldn’t seem to shake my loneliness. That is until now. They thing that makes me feel like I am not alone, the thing that makes me most happy, is the simplest thing of all. It is something that I was born by and born with. It is something that most people spend their whole lives trying to find, but no amount of wealth or power or knowledge can take its place or bring it to a person. It is a four letter word. Love.

When you throw out everything else in my life, three things remain: Faith, Hope, and Love. The greatest of these is Love and it is Love that makes me whole. For I know that when all else fails me, my love for my family, my friends, my god, and all of those around me will never cease. It is my gift of love that holds back the worst this world can give me. And it is Love that makes me whole.

title: Whole

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: The narrator is Daniel West, a 20 year old college student.

question: Does the narrator have any strong opinions on anything?

answer: Yes, many. He thinks his sister should date. He believes in God. He wants nothing to do with a gym. He thinks the government's strict gun control laws shouldn't make people like his dad wait to buy a gun, but allow a criminal to purchase one. He believes Love is what makes him whole.

question: What is/are important to the narrator?

answer: His family is important to him, along with the little things like eating breakfast together. Faith, Hope, and Love are important to him.

question: Who does the narrator admire?

answer: It seems the narrator admires his dad, although he's never met him, and his mom.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is Daniel West, a 20 year old college student. The narrator has many strong beliefs: he thinks his sister should date; he believes in God; he wants nothing to do with a gym; he thinks the government's strict gun control laws shouldn't cause people like his dad to wait to buy a gun, but allow a criminal to purchase one; he believes Love is what makes him whole; and he believes spending time with his family is important. Daniel admires his dad, even though he died before he was born, and his mother. He believes the thing most important in his life is Love.


text:
I guess you could say that my life started revolving around mental health in the fifth grade. And I think that's true, it's just that most of my family members have a mental illness. My first experience with suicide came in second grade, when a far off cousin took too many pain killers. Three years later my brother was diagnosed with all kinds of big words. In the sixth, he was hospitalized.
That same year I was diagnosed as a capital F faker. My new found therapist decided that I was mimicking the emotions I heard my brother express, in order to get much needed attention. She even compared me to a monkey. "There was this experiment done, where they found that if one monkey does a cartwheel and is rewarded, all the other monkeys will try and do cartwheels."
I understood that, but I just didn't think the slits in my wrist were comparable to cartwheels.

.
.
Okay so this is my story so far. Please let me know what you think. I know it's really short but I'm new at this.

title: [NF] Sick (pt. 1)

question: List the narrator's family members and their relationship with mental health.

answer:
A second cousin who commits suicide by taking to many pills.
A brother who is diagnosed and eventually hospitalized.

question: Why does the therapist believe the narrator is faking their symptoms?

answer: The therapist things that the narrator is emulating the symptoms talked about by their brother.

question: What does the therapist use as an example of the attention seeking?

answer: Chimpanzees who copy rewarded actions in order to receive a reward themselves.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: A person recounts their relationship with mental health and the effect it has had on their family. They o to a therapist who believes they are faking their issues for attention.


text:
[Mother breastfeeding baby]

Taboo: Women who bottle fed their babies should not worry that they are doing anything wrong

Breast milk is no better for a baby than formula, an expert claimed last night as he reignited the 'breast is best' debate.

Professor Sven Carlsen said breast-fed babies were slightly healthier, but it was not the milk that made the difference.

Instead, babies who are breast-fed have benefited from better conditions in the womb before birth.

The professor, an expert in the hormonal changes of pregnancy, claimed: 'Baby formula is as good as breast milk.'

The bold statement will enrage the 'breast is best' lobby, who say a mother's milk wards off a host of ills. It will also confuse mothers who are under pressure from the Department of Health to feed their babies on breast milk alone for the first six months of life.

NHS leaflets tell mothers that breast-feeding exclusively for the first six months will help protect their baby against obesity, eczema and ear, chest and tummy bugs.

Avoiding formula, they are told, will cut the odds of a child being a fussy eater in later life, as well as cut the woman's odds of some cancers and help with weight loss.

But Professor Carlsen, from the Norwegian University of Science and Technology in Trondheim, spoke out after carrying out a review of more than 50 studies into the relationship between health and breast-feeding.

Most concluded that the longer a child is nursed, the healthier it will be. The professor said this may be the case, but it was because of a healthier pregnancy, not the breast milk. His research shows that high levels of the male sex hormone testosterone in the womb affect a woman's ability to produce milk and to breast-feed.

With testosterone levels affected by the health of the placenta, which ferries oxygen and nutrients to the baby, the professor believes high amounts indicate poorer conditions in the womb overall.

This means that any differences in the health of a baby bottle-fed because its mother finds breastfeeding difficult are set before birth, rather than afterwards.

But Royal College of Paediatrics and Child Health spokesman Charlotte Wright said the claims were 'irresponsible and overblown'.

She said: 'Women should remember that we were not designed to be bottle-fed - formula is an artificial alternative.'

Clare Byam-Cook, a former midwife who has taught celebrities such as Kate Winslet and Natasha Kaplinsky how to feed their babies, said breast-feeding was not suitable for all.

She said: 'How a mother looks after herself and her growing baby in pregnancy is the most important thing that she can do.

'Once the baby is out, of course I would advocate breastfeeding. But if the mother can't do it she shouldn't pursue it too much and she certainly shouldn't feel guilty.'

question: What is the relationship between health and breast feeding?

answer: Breast fed babies are slightly healthier.

question: What does Professor Carlsen feel is a better indicator of the health of the baby?

answer: He states that breast fed babies are healthier because of a healthier pregnancy due to better conditions in the womb.

question: Does the Royal College of Pediatrics and Child Health agree with Professor Carlsen?

answer: The spokesman said the claims were irresponsible and overblown.

question: What is Clare Byam-Cook's opinion on Professor Carlsen's insights?

answer: She said that it is most important to look after the growing baby and the mother during pregnancy. Once the baby is out, she would advocate breast feeding unless the mother cannot pursue it.

question: How did Professor Carlsen come to his conclusion?

answer: He carried out a review of 50 studies into the relationship between health and breast feeding.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Professor Carlsen upset the breast feeding community by asserting that it is not breast milk that makes babies healthier, but rather conditions in the womb. His statements have been refuted as overblown and irresponsible.


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question: Define lithography.

answer: Lithography is the semiconductor technology used to manufacture an integrated circuit.

question: What is the purpose of the SLAT?

answer: It provides acceleration for memory-intensive virtualized applications.

question: What are memory types?

answer: A Single Channel, Dual Channel, Triple Channel, and Flex Mode.

question: What is HDMI?

answer: HDMI is the maximum resolution supported by the processor via the HDMI interface.


text:
I sat with my little brother in the back seat, his head carefully propped on my shoulder. I pushed his golden hair from his eyes. They were closed but when i touched him he peeked through his eye lids to reveal glacier ice blue eyes. They looked like father's while i had mother's grey eyes. I smiled warmly at him. He snuggled up against me comfortably. I glanced up at our mother in the driver seat. My gaze softening, i had sympathy for the ragged woman falling apart behind her steering wheel. I was only seven but i understood that was happening. My brother almost two years my junior couldn't see the pain she possessed.

I creased my eyebrows in suspicion as i watched the yellow line cross the windshield. Bright lights blared in our faces. A loud horn froze my blood. "Mom!"I screamed reaching forward for her. She was startled and swerved wildly in an attempt to get us back in the right lane. The car stuck our back bumper at just the angle to spin our car uncontrollably. The momentum slid me across the seat to slam into the door. It hadn't been closed all the way. I screamed as, like a rag doll, i was tossed out into the snow. I was lucky the snow was so deep it cushioned the blow so that hitting the ground didn't kill me. I lay there for a long time listening to the ringing in my ears, my vision fading in and out. Once it stopped i struggled to my feet. Swaying i stumbled back to the road. The other car had slammed into a tree, the occupant no where to be seen. But my mom's car was absent. I looked around and saw tire tracks in the snow. I ran, following them best i could in the dark. My weight made me stumble as my legs sunk into the soft snow up to my knees.

The car came into view. It had struck a tree. The left blinker was on and the bright headlights stared out into the forest. I fell in the snow in my struggle to get to the door. Looking at the hood a crumpled figure lay there to big to be my brother. Tears stung my eyes as i watched the headlight slowly become crimson and shadows pooled around the figure. The horrible smell of cooper and feces lodged in my nose. It was so pungent i gaged as my stomach spasmed into a tight knot.

 I opened the back door trying not to vomit or break down. Tears streaked my face. But the sight inside tore out my heart."No!"i screamed into the night. I clambered into the car and reached over my brother's awkward form. I clicked the belt open and pulled him into my arms. He was limp and rapidly beginning to cool. I screamed again, this made my heart constrict and tears flowed freely. "Rend! Rend!"i wailed piteously my voice cracking with every attempt. I clung to him and his name. Repeating it with every sob till i felt him twitch. Gasping i touched his face, wiping his hair and my tears off it. His eyes opened slowly to close again. His golden eyelashes made half moons on his pale skin. "Hold on Rend i'll get help!"i reassured holding his close.
"No."he rasped in a sticky wet voice,"Stay here, stay... With ... Me." His voice became softer and softer.
"Rend please dont go, i'll stay i'll stay.Just dont die." I begged wiping my eyes.
"Im cold." He whispered.
He didn't say anything after that. I put my fingers to his jugular, a faint pulse began to fade against my fingers. Against my word i left him to look for help.

I screamed and cried falling into the snow. Putting my hands over my face i apologized to Rend for leaving him. I fell to my knees and leaned forward bowing into the snow. I stayed like that wishing the cold would take me and i could die to. "What a sorry being." An indifferently kind voice murmured. I lifted my head to look at the owner of such a voice. A woman stood there, her eyes were yellow and a top her head was a set of horns. She smiled wickedly."A fiend." I whispered. Getting to my feet i shoved her as hard as my body would allowed. She stumbled back glaring at me.
"What in holy hell do yas think ya doing?"she snapped.
"Kill me... Please kill me." I said shoving her again.
"Quit it."she ordered,"i wont kill yas."
"I left him. Hes dead. My brother." My eyes welled with tears again. Hiccuping gasps made my throat burn from the cold. She watched me with interest now. Touching my head she said,"maybe i can help."

I led her back to the car and climbed into the car to retrieve Rend. He was still limp, not stiff yet. She touched him with a hand as i cradled his body. Her eyes got a sympathetic look. 'Was he to far to be saved?' I wondered. She met my eyes.
"I can bring him back, by sharing my life." She said then added," but in return... Im sure you know what i want."
I didn't have to think about it. I agreed and held him out to her,"Just save him, please. Its not worth living without him."

Her magic was beautiful as it danced over Rend's skin before sinking into his pores. It was amazing to watch the color return to his skin and the light in his eyes return. She handed him back to me carefully. I held him tight as he gasped for air. "Big brother?" His soft voice asked. I nodded happily. The last of my tears spilled out and dripped onto his skin. He hugged me back trying to make me stop crying. The woman cleared her throat. I looked at her, then glanced down at my brothers small figure. His back rose and fell when he breathed. I pulled back from him to look at his face. He searched my face with confused eyes, i felt the seriousness contort my face. I leaned forward and kissed his forehead. He smiled at the attention. I let him go suddenly and this confused him. "We had a deal." I said under my breath. The woman took my hand and smiled. My body felt like it were on fire but i withheld my scream. Suddenly i was blind.

Rend sat there watching as his older brother disappeared into smoke with the woman. He sat there staring into the snowy night. He said nothing for a long time. Then he climbed from the car, the exertion turning his stomach. Following the tire tracks he stayed as cold as the snow. The odd calm that came over him reminded  him of the numbness of loss that ached inside him. He reached the road in time to see the lights of a police car. He stepped into the lights and collapsed, everything suddenly slammed into him. All the feelings, all the ache of revival, and even a strange feeling he didn't recognize. It was like his body filled with worms. They snaked beneath his skin and burrowed deep into his body before sending a toxin through his blood. He spasmed and shuddered as it filled up his entire body with a burning itch. Peeking through tightly squinted eyes  he saw a slick shine reflect the cars in someone's shoes. The lights lost all their color. They became pulsing shades of gray. They everything was consumed by the black of unconsciousness.

title: Character Backstory (tragedy, paranormal)

question: What does the story say about the protagonist's brother Rend's accident?

answer: The protagonist and Rend had a car accident and Rend is dying. The protagonist is looking for help and meets a woman who says she can help. The protagonist leads her back to the car. The woman says she can bring him back, by sharing her life but wants something in return. The protagonist agrees, and she saves Rend. She hands Rend to the protagonist. Later, he lets Rend go and says 'We had a deal'. Rend is watching as his older brother disappeared into smoke with the woman.

question: What does the story say about the protagonist's childhood?


text:
FRANCISCO AGUIRRE-VELASQUEZ is an activist for the rights of workers and immigrants in Portland, Oregon. He is originally from El Salvador, but fled the country due to military violence against his family.[1] He has fought for the rights of laborers in both Los Angeles, California and Portland for over 10 years. He was one of the founding members of the Portland organization, Portland VOZ Worker's Education Project, and currently works as the center coordinator for their NE Portland location.[2]

When living in El Salvador, as a child, most of his family left the country as refugees without him. he was kidnapped for around one year by the military, until they torturing him and trying to make him believe that they got his uncle and that he must shut him, but they never let him see the face of the men who was claiming to be his uncle, he believed that the man was not his uncle, and the handgun they give him was without bullets to shoot his uncle. After all that, he was rescued and he sought refuge at Guazapa hill with members of the Farabundo Martí National Liberation Front.[3]

#UnidosConFrancisco

In 2014, Immigration and Customs Enforcement attempted to detain and arrest Francisco.[4] He sought sanctuary in the Augustana Lutheran Church, which is part of the sanctuary movement.[5] The Department of Justice then charged Francisco for illegally reentering the United States.[6]

After he left the church, the Department of Homeland Security began harassing them about food stamps. His eldest son, Denis Moises, commonly referred to by peers as simply Moises, traumatized by the continued harassment against his family by various government agencies and local law enforcement, flew back to El Salvador in July 2015. A few months later, on February 2, 2016, Francisco was informed that Moises, 19, had been murdered, allegedly by two gunmen who were ordered to kill him.[7]

After several protests and vigils, using the hashtag and slogan _#UnidosConFrancisco_ (English: Unity With Francisco), the charges were dropped on June 17 of 2016, which is just two months after his trial began on April 19.[8] However, he is still in conflict with ICE.

Francisco applied for a U-Visa which was denied and now he is in the process to get political asylum. He has to report to ICE whenever they ask him, and he is not sure to get the asylum.

Francisco was persecuted in his country because of his political beliefs. and his life is in danger if he is deported to El Salvador, where he could end up getting killed like his son.

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

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title: Francisco Aguirre-Velasquez

question: Where is Aguirre-Velasquez from?

answer: El Salvador

question: What organization did Aguirre-Velasquez help found?

answer: Portland VOZ Worker's Education Project

question: When was Aguirre-Velasquez born?

answer: That information can't be found

question: When did Aguirre-Velasquez learn that his son had been murdered?

answer: February 2, 2016

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Francisco Aguirre-Velasquez is an activist for the rights of workers and immigrants in Portland, Oregon. He is originally from El Salvador, but he fled due to military violence against his family. He is one of the founding members of Portland VOZ Worker's Education Project, and he currently works as the coordinator for their NE Portland location. His son was killed in El Salvador in 2016, and Francisco has been in conflict with ICE since 2014.


text:
is a Japanese manga artist, best known for drawing the series _Fist of the North Star_ (known as _Hokuto no Ken_ in Japan), which he co-authored with Buronson. He is cousin to comedian Ryo Fukawa.

Career

A native of Tokyo, Hara attended Hongō Junior and Senior High School and worked as an assistant to manga artist Yoshihiro Takahashi after graduating. As an amateur, he won the first prize of the 33rd _Fresh Jump_ award for his boxing short story _Super Challenger_. Hara's professional career began with his first published work: _Mad Fighter_ in 1982. His first serialized work in the _Weekly Shōnen Jump_ was the _Iron Don Quixote_, a motocross manga which lasted only ten weeks in serialization. He achieved fame after the publication of _Hokuto no Ken_ (_Fist of the North Star_) in 1983, which he co-created with Buronson and ran for six years in _Weekly Jump_. His next long-running serial was _Hana no Keiji_, a period tale loosely based on a novel by Keiichiro Ryu, which was published in _Weekly Jump_ from 1990 to 1993. He would go on to produce several shorter serials and one-shots for Shueisha until departing from the company in 2000.

In 2001, he became one of the founding members of the manga editing company Coamix and would go on to illustrate _Sōten no Ken_ (_Fist of the Blue Sky_), a prequel to _Hokuto no Ken_, which was serialized in _Weekly Comic Bunch_ from 2001 until the magazine's final issue in 2010. Originally published as a weekly serial, _Sōten no Ken_ was changed to a semi-regular feature after Hara was diagnosed with keratoconus.[1] Despite previously announcing his intentions to retire after completing _Sōten no Ken_, he would go on to illustrate his current series _Ikusa no Ko: The Legend of Nobunaga Oda_, published in _Monthly Comic Zenon_ since 2010. An English edition of _Ikusa no Ko_ is concurrently published at the official Silent Manga Audition Community website.[2]

Works

Manga

Serials

  Title                                                                                Magazine                                               Date                   Volumes
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------- ----------- ---
                                                                                _Weekly Shōnen Jump_                                   1982–1983              2
                                                                                _Weekly Shōnen Jump_                                   1983–1988              27
                                                                                _Weekly Shōnen Jump_                                   1988–1989              4
                                                                                _Weekly Shōnen Jump_                                   1990–1993              18
  {{nihongo4|_Kagemusha Tokugawa Ieyasu_|影武者徳川家康                                “Tokugawa Ieyasu's Shadow Warrior”}}[3]                _Weekly Shōnen Jump_   1994–1995
  {{nihongo4|_Takeki Ryūsei_|猛き龍星                                                  “The Mighty Ryusei”}}                                  _Weekly Shōnen Jump_   1995
  {{nihongo4|_Sakon - Sengoku Fūunroku-_|SAKON －戦国風雲録－                          “Sakon: Chronicles of Feudal Turbulence”}}             _Weekly Shōnen Jump_   1997–2000
                                                                                _Manga Allman_                                         1997–1998              1
  {{nihongo4|''Kōkenryoku Ōryō Sōsakan Nakabō Rintarō ''|公権力横領捜査官 中坊林太郎   "Government Corruption Investigator Rintaro Nakabo}}   _Bart 3230_            1998–2000
                                                                                _Monthly Gotta_                                        2000                   1
                                                                                _Weekly Comic Bunch_                                   2001–2010              22
                                                                                _Monthly Comic Zenon_                                  2010–current

One-shots

+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| Title                 | Magazine              | Date                  |
+=======================+=======================+=======================+
|                       | _Weekly Jump: Special | 1982/4/10             |
|                       | Edition_              |                       |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
|                       | _Fresh Jump_          | 1982/10               |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
|                       | _Weekly Jump_         | 1982 (No. 43)         |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| (prototype version)   | _Fresh Jump_          | 1983/04               |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| (prototype version)   | _Fresh Jump_          | 1983/06               |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
|                       | _Weekly Jump_         | 1993 (No. 5-6)        |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| {{nihongo4|_Kaen no   | “The Hands of         | _Weekly Jump Spring   |
| Shō_|火焔の掌         | Flames”}}             | Special_              |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| {{nihongo4|_Kiseki    | “When The Pyroxene    | _Weekly Jump_         |
| Moyuru                | Burns”}}              |                       |
| Toki_|輝石燃ゆる時    |                       |                       |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
|                       | _Manga Allman_        | 1997 (No. 2)          |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
|                       | _Comic Zenon_         | May 2013 (Part 1)     |
|                       |                       | June 2013 (Part 2)    |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+

Novel Illustrations

-   _Kōryū no Mimi_ - (4 volumes, 1991–1993)
-   _Ichimu An Fūryū Ki_ (1 volume, 1992 Shueisha Bunko edition)
-   _Hokuto no Ken: Jubaku no Machi_ (1 volume, 1995)
-   _Miyamoto Musashi_ (8 volumes, 2013 Takarashimasha Bunko edition)

Other works

-   _Saturday Night Slam Masters_/_Muscle Bomber_ (1993 arcade game) - promotional illustrations. The character portraits in the arcade version were done by another artist, but they were replaced by Hara's own renditions in the console versions for the Super NES and Sega Genesis.
-   _Muscle Bomber Duo_ (1993 arcade game) - promotional illustrations
-   _Ring of Destruction: Slam Masters II_/_Super Muscle Bomber_ (1994 arcade game) - promotional and in-game illustrations.
-   _Itadaki Muscle!_ (2006 TV series) - illustrations for the opening intro.
-   _Mori no Senshi Bonolon_ (2006 anime series) - producer, character designer
-   _Gifū Dōdō Naoe Kanetsugu_ (2008 manga series) - Co-author with Nobuhiko Horie.

[1]

[2]

[3]

title: Tetsuo Hara

question: Name the company of which Tetsuo Hara is a founding member?

answer: Coamix.


text:
The bumblebee that Thomas had been following landed gracefully on one of his mother's daisies. Its feet connected with the center of the flower, and the miniature wings that had carried it there seized their movement. The stem of the daisy bent slightly under the pressure of the tiny creature. It began to sway. A cool breeze blew through the garden, and all of the other flowers swayed with it. The bee could have been a snake charmer, or the conductor of an orchestra. The garden continued to dance for a long time, and eventually Thomas lost interest in the bee.

Towards the other side of the garden was an apple tree, big enough to shade him if he lay on his back. Thomas walked over to it, and before lying down, he listened to the sounds around him. There were footsteps on the other side of the hedge, wind through the grass and leaves, and the ever-present sound of his mother weeping.

It had started four months ago, on Christmas of 1918. He had awoken earlier than ever, and had run into her bedroom expecting celebration and presents. Instead, she had told him to wait until later for the gifts. He had seen tears on her rosy cheeks, and had heard her crying upstairs while he sat waiting by the tree. Since then, she had never told him what was wrong, and it hadn't seemed to get better. He suspected that it had to do with her husband, Thomas' father - although he wasn't his father, really. The man had left his mother when Thomas was only four years old, and he had never known him. She had told him that his father had gone off to save the world, and would be back again soon. But after four years, he still hadn't returned.

His mother stopped crying, and the property was peaceful once again. Thomas tossed aside some twigs, and lay down in the shade.

The garden was Thomas' home - he spent more time here than in the house beside which it resided. He came when he was in a good mood, and had spent some of his happiest days here, chasing bumblebees and climbing the oak trees. He also came when things weren't at their best, because it helped him forget about the bad things that sometimes happened. When his mother cried, he came to the garden to keep his mind off of his father. Sometimes, he even liked to pretend that he was the man. If a bird landed on one of his favourite trees, Thomas would clap his hands and yell at it, as if he was the guardian of the house. He had trained himself to be attentive, which is why he sat upright instantly when he heard a noise close by.

The man that had been walking outside was now unlocking the gate, and Thomas' heart began to race. Who was this man, and what reason did he have to enter the garden? The stranger stepped through and began walking down the path towards the house. It wasn't anybody that he recognized, and the man seemed to have a limp, as if he had been injured. Thomas stood up to get a better view, but made sure to hide himself behind the massive trunk of the tree. The man was almost at the door, and was picking up his pace. All of the practice that Thomas had had protecting the garden was now shying from his memory, and he only felt a sickening worry that his mother was going to be taken from him too. The man stepped up onto the porch, and opened the door, letting it swing in slowly. He called something, which to Thomas sounded like "Anna", which was his mother's name. There was silence, and then he heard a different sound from his mother than all of the ones he had heard the past winter - she screamed.

Thomas felt his heart race faster, if that was possible, and was ready to run at the man. Then he saw his mother rush out the door and embrace him, with the most compassion Thomas had ever seen from her. She was crying again, and so was the man, but Thomas could tell that these were not tears of sorrow. They stood there like that for a long time, and then the wind died down, and everything was silent in the garden. Thomas didn't know who this man was, but he was thankful that his mother was better now. He looked across the yard at the field of daisies, which were pretty, and then at his mother, who was even prettier. She had noticed him standing there, and she was smiling.

title: I'm entering a short story contest at school, any feedback would be appreciated (I don't right much at all, so this might be a disaster)

question: Describe Thomas' attachment to the garden.

answer: Thomas had an intense interest in the garden and in the plants and creatures there, he preferred it to the house. If he was in good or a bad mood or if his mother was crying, he could always find solace in the garden. In his father's absence, he pretended to be the man of the house and scare away a bird from the oak tree. But when his father came back from the war, he forgot about protecting the garden, and he was worried his mother would be taken from him as well.

question: Summarize how Thomas' mother changes over the course of the story.

answer: Thomas' mother wept frequently since Christmas four months ago. She didn't tell him what was wrong, but it didn't seem to get better. When his mother cried, Thomas escaped to the garden to keep his mind off his father. One day a man came in the garden gate and called her name from the front door. She ran to answer and embraced the man. Together they cried tears of joy and stood holding each other. After this his mother smiled at him across the garden.

question: What does the story say about the first world war?

question: Summarize the movements of Thomas' father when he left the family.

answer: Thomas' father left when he was four years old, Thomas was now 8 years old and his father was not back yet. His mother told him that his father went to save the world. Christmas 1918 his mother began crying for four full months, until his father came back one day. His father came back with a limp. From all this information, it can be deduced that he was drafted to participate in the first world war and took months getting home afterward.


text:
It's been two years; Everyone's confused and no body knows what to do any more. Everyone is just begging praying, for someone else to have the answers. Even our governments have lost control; even they are crying in complete confusion; no plans or back up and the whole world is confused, even the doctors, psychiatrists themselves and that's what I mean, by 'everyone'.

But I'm trying to keep it together; I have done so for the last two years. There has to be someone out their or something, anything that has the answers. I'm driving, with my child at the back seat and I'm trying my best to keep her calm, because she is scared, looking at everyone else outside, being scared and worried.

I'm determined, I will find the answers and all I can hear from everyone else is "help me please help me I'm so confused" and all over the radios, media; just cries of confusion. My car has ran out of petrol and I start to walk with my child, in my arms to a hospital near by. There has to be at least, some doctors or professionals that have kept it together.

When I get to the hospital: it's just full of people, crying sobbing and mumbling, that they are confused and don't know what to do any more, even the doctors. My daughter starts getting scared and starts to cry and I take her outside somewhere quite.

"daddy why is everyone confused?" my daughter asked crying

"they are not well honey" I tell her

"but even the doctors and other proffessional looking people are also doing the same thing and mommy she is also one of them" my daughter cried out to me

"darling listen to me, the whole world might be confused but not me ok" I tell her firmly

"ok daddy" she replies

I steal another car and going past loads of crying people; hurling out "I'm so confused I don't know what to do any more help me!" wasn't really helping me at all. I drive for hours and hours trying to find anything and I needed a break; so I get out of the car, on my own, just for a moment though. to give my self some time to think.

"I feel so confused...NO NO NO I am not confused I refuse to be confused!" I shout to my self

I get back in the car and when I drive past the white house; so many politicians and leaders yelling, that they are confused and also yelling "the world is rudderless!" and I drive on. I break into a house; so me and my daughter can sleep in and rest for the night. My daughter a sleep soundly; I think to my self constantly, very hard that there has to be something out their, when everything goes upside down, there should be a secret organisation or group, that deals with this sort of thing or is that only in the movies?

The next day I just felt terrible; for some reason and I was in a bad mood. Wherever I went or found, it was always a dead end or a complete fail. Then suddenly: I couldn't take it any more and I got out of the car, screamed angrily and then softly and quietly; started to mutter "I don't know what to do anymore I've tried everything for the last two years can you help me please help me!" my daughter becomes very scared, hearing loud and clear, at what I am saying and not even she knows what to do, because she's just a child.

"Daddy your scaring me what's wrong daddy don't be confused please!" she yells

title: Rudderless

question: What does the story say about how everybody around the protagonist and his daughter feels?

answer: People are confused. Everyone is just begging for the answers. Even the governments have lost control; even they are crying in complete confusion; they have no plans. In the hospital, people are crying, sobbing, and mumbling. Politicians in the White House are yelling that they are confused.

question: What does the story say about how the narrator feels?

answer: The narrator says that it's been two years since everyone is confused and nobody knows what to do anymore. Everyone is begging for the answers. The narrator is determined to find the answers. One morning, however, he feels terrible and starts to mutter that he does not know what to do anymore. He has tried everything but now he cries for help.

question: What does the story say about why everybody is confused?


text: WOW! What a mesmerizing sight! When I got to the edge, I didn't even hesitate; I dove right in. My oh my, how refreshing! I knew this would be worth it. I hadn't a care in the world as I playfully frolicked through my bliss...wait...what's happening? Am I sinking? I frantically grasped for something to hang on to, soon realizing that there's nothing in sight. All of the beautiful colors drew me in, and now I was trapped. I had to escape somehow. It seemed as if every step I took forward would only set me back. "Isn't this supposed to be fun?" I thought as drool-covered, rubber balls hit me in the face from every direction. Will I ever escape this multicolored hell? As I struggled to get to the edge it only made me sink faster. I guess this really is the end. Just as my face sank below the surface, I felt a minuscule hand tugging at my arm. Where is this tiny person taking me? Suddenly my face resurfaced as the small individual pulled me on to the edge of the Chuck E. Cheese ball pit. I looked at my three year old daughter with grateful eyes. My savior.  As I gave her a big, thankful hug she squeaked, "But...Daddy...it was only two feet deep."

title: Worth it.

question: Where does the story take place?

answer: At a Chuck E. Cheese restaurant.

question: What was the narrator doing?

answer: Jumping in a ball pit with his daughter.

question: Why is the narrator terrified?

answer: They feel like they can't escape.

question: Why is the family at the restaurant?

answer: More information is needed to answer the question.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator jumps into a ball pit but suddenly feels terrified of sinking. His daughter takes his hand and he comes back to the surface, relieved.


text:
I could feel the powerful throbbing of my racing heart against the wet stone floor. As I laid there I could sense every motion within my body from the blood rushing from my fingers to my toes and the expansion of my lungs as I inhaled, the following emptiness as I exhaled and every single hair standing up on my back from the cold.

I was naked and I felt cold. There was naught but a light breeze breaking the thundering silence. I opened my eyes only to close them again. They felt so very dry. After I rubbed my eyes I once again opened them to find myself lying down in the dark. I stood up and noticed my lack of clothing. The cool breeze had stopped. The following silence was so unbearable that I started tapping my bare feet against the stone floor. Not a sound. I tapped harder. Not a sound. I crouched down and started smacking the floor with the palm of my hand. Not a sound. I stomped on the stone floor trying to create the smallest inkling of a noise as my desperation grew more intense. Not a sound. I jumped up and down but not a sound wave was produced.

That's when the roar that can only be described as infinite started. The mind numbingly powerful roar the likes of which I have never heard. It was a sound that had no source and had no end. A sound that traveled indefinitely and that could not be escaped. I turned around cowering while covering my ears, screaming, trying to overpower the sound, to no avail. That is when I noticed the sliver of light in the dark. I made my way towards it and it turned out to be the crack of a door. On the other side of the door was a desert and the warmth of the sands heated the air through the doorway and I felt beckoned to lie down in it.

I thrust myself through the doorway to be engulfed by the warm sands but I could not feel it. I knew the sand was warm but I could not feel it against my skin. I dug deeper trying to get the sand in closer against my skin but I could not feel the heat. I could feel the weight of the sand pressing against me as I made my way down in the sand but could not feel the heat. I kept digging until I could no longer breathe. The pressure against my chest was immense and yet I did not feel the need to breathe, so I continued digging.

Light. I was instantly blinded as it hit my eyes. I felt shaken and the weight was unloaded but there was still an overbearing pressure and there was the cold, the now much more extreme cold cold. As I looked towards the horizon of the desert I could see the outlines of another person. A person wearing something that was being carried by the wind. A dress perhaps? Charging through the sand with not a care for anything but to reach this dress wearing someone I thought, what is this place? What am I doing here? Why am I here?

As I reached the figure in the dress I grabbed it's arm and swung it around only to see a young woman bloodied on one side of her face with a cut splitting her head on the left side. On the right side there was but the remnants of a what was once a face, now charred beyond recognition. I could recognize her. I closed my eyes and as I opened them again I came to.

I was in a car. In the driver's seat. There was smoke everywhere, as well as shards of glass. I looked up and there she was just opposite to me, in a car crumpled up in to the hood of mine, engulfed in flames. My sight got blurry and I heard sirens in the distance. What is this?

title: A desolate inside

question: Summarize the painful sensations the narrator experiences.

answer: The narrator is naked and feels cold. They feel an immense pressure against their chest. When the light hits, they feel extreme cold.

question: Summarize the story's plot twist.

answer: The narrator closes his eyes and when he comes to he finds that he was dreaming and is actually in the driver's seat of a car. The car has just crashed, and a woman is sitting opposite him, the car engulfed in flames.

question: What does the story say about how the narrator wound up in the place with the wet stone floor?


text:
Amnesty International is calling on senators to to halt the nomination of Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh over his "possible involvement" in human rights violations after the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, 2001.

The human rights organization wrote in a Monday letter that Kavanaugh might have been involved "in issues related to torture and rendition after 9/11."

"More information must be made public to determine Kavanaugh’s role in relation to such practices," the organization wrote. "Amnesty International has long called for declassification of any documents or other materials depicting or describing enforced disappearance, torture or other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or other human rights violations, including acts of abduction and rendition, by US or non-US personnel after the attacks in the USA on September 11, 2001."

Kavanaugh was working in the George W. Bush administration at the time of the attacks.

Amnesty International is calling for a freeze on Kavanaugh's confirmation process until those documents are released publicly, calling the vetting of Kavanaugh’s human rights record "insufficient."

The organization said the vote on Kavanaugh should be "further postponed unless and until any information relevant to Kavanaugh’s possible involvement in human rights violations—including in relation to the U.S. government’s use of torture and other forms of ill-treatment, such as during the CIA detention program—is declassified and made public."

Sens. Dianne Feinstein[]Dianne Emiel FeinsteinThe Hill's Morning Report - Presented by the UAE Embassy in Washington, DC - COVID-19 fears surround Thanksgiving holiday Feinstein departure from top post sets stage for Judiciary fight Whitehouse says Democratic caucus will decide future of Judiciary Committee MORE (D-Calif.), Patrick Leahy[]Patrick Joseph LeahyThe Hill's Morning Report - Presented by the UAE Embassy in Washington, DC - Trump OKs transition; Biden taps Treasury, State experience Durbin seeks to become top-ranking Democrat on Judiciary panel Feinstein to step down as top Democrat on Judiciary Committee MORE (D-Vt.) and Dick Durbin[]Dick DurbinThe Hill's Morning Report - Presented by the UAE Embassy in Washington, DC - COVID-19 fears surround Thanksgiving holiday Feinstein departure from top post sets stage for Judiciary fight Whitehouse says Democratic caucus will decide future of Judiciary Committee MORE (D-Ill.) in an August letter made a similar request, calling for the declassification of documents from Kavanaugh's time in the White House after 9/11. The senators claimed he was more involved in those controversial policies than he originally let on.

Two publicly available documents cast doubt on Kavanaugh's assertion that he was not involved in the United States' post-9/11 counterterrorism policy, the senators wrote.

The senators wrote that "in 2006, Judge Kavanaugh told the [Senate Judiciary] Committee under oath that he was 'not aware of any issues'" regarding post-9/11 policies, including the treatment of detainees and the Bush administration's warrantless wiretapping program.

"At least two documents that are publicly available on the Bush Library website from Judge Kavanaugh’s time as Staff Secretary suggest that he was involved in issues related to torture and rendition after 9/11," the senators wrote, citing two documents that seem to indicate Kavanaugh was looped into conversations about polices regarding torture.

Amnesty International does not typically weigh in on the appointment of individuals to government positions unless they "are reasonably suspected of crimes under international law," according to the Monday letter.

question: Why does Amnesty International want the Supreme Court nomination of Brett Kavanaugh halted?

answer: They site his possible involvement in issues related to torture and rendition after 9/11. They request more information to be made public in relation to the aforementioned.

question: What source do they have for the allegations against Brett Kavanaugh?

answer: Two documents that are publicly available on the Bush Library website suggest that he was involved in issues related to torture.

question: What was Kavanaugh's position in the Bush administration?

answer: He was the Staff Secretary.

question: Why did Amnesty International weigh in on this appointment?

answer: They do not typically weigh in on appointments of individuals unless they are reasonably suspected of crimes under international law.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Brett Kavanaugh's nomination to the Supreme Court is challenged by Amnesty International because there are documents that suggest his involvement in issues related to torture and rendition after 9/11. The documents are from Kavanaugh's time as Staff Secretary. Amnesty International reasonably suspects crimes under international law.


text:
Her feet burn as she walks down the pavement. Her hands rest upon her very pregnant stomach and her shirt that was stained from dirt and sweat. Sarah runs her toes through the puddle of blood that had collected by a sewer run off to soothe her sore feet. She lowers her head and watches her feet as she passes the little boy that is screaming under the stop sign, his body is covered in scabs and blisters.

Amongst the screaming of the demons that soar like vultures in the ashy sky, which would occasionally mutilate a person with its claws or tackle them and rip their flesh with their rows of tiny pointed teeth, she stares at Bryson’s house across the street.

Gene and Tommy are sitting in a dying maple tree on a September afternoon. Hey, Tommy. Look at that girl down there,” Gene says as he nudges Tommy in the ribs.

Tommy is busy staring at the green circles of fungi on the rotting park bench below them. “Huh,” he responds. “What do you think she’s doing,” Tommy asks after realizing he heard the question.

“I don’t know. She’s been staring at that house for two days now.

Heh. I still can’t believe that sky, sure is something,” Gene says. “Like the way the red sun clashes with the grey sky and how the orange horizon looks like it’s dripping down the sky.”

The two watch her standing in the street, her reflection looking just as scared as her in the broken windows of an abandoned building.  A few leaves fall from the maple tree only adding to the chaos.

“Not many of them around anymore are there Gene,” Tommy asks.

Gene shakes his head. “No, not really.  The rays from the conceding sun beam down on Gene and Tommy’s glistening black backs.

When the world was supposed the end in December, it didn’t really. But it was the end of how things used to be and the beginning of something new. On the twenty-first, some were saved-those who believed and those who were forgiven. Some were asked to stay behind- angels to act as warriors against the demons. Bryson was chosen because of his strength and his heart. No one knew why children were left behind, or husbands and wives who attended church every Sunday.

Months of uncertainly passed until March when the asteroids hit, damaging all the power lines and many homes. And this month, September, was when the demons appeared. But those who were left were not in total gloom, for they were given a second chance. To prove themselves through their struggles and conquer the evil that had overtaken their lives. The angels that stayed and fought represented hope for mankind, that God had not totally given up faith in man and that in their struggles and they could find rebirth and washed pure in the blood and tears of Christ.

Sarah finally moves and makes her way further down the road. She walks past a yellow house, it’s siding smeared in charcoal covered ashes and notices through the big glass window a woman can be seen in the kitchen making dinner. Her husband and three children sit around the dinner table. The littlest girl with her hair in a pony tail grabs her fathers hand and with the other hand waves to her mother to come to the table. They bow their heads and pray. She continues walking.

“She’s getting awfully close. I think she’s finally going to go inside,” Gene says excitedly cocking his head to the side to better watch her with his round black eye.

She walks up the steps of the house of interest, taking a deep breath causing her chest to rise and she knocks on the door. It creaks as it slowly swings open. She looks inside, his brown hair can be seen off the side of the couch as he lays motionless. She slowly walks inside, turning to face him. She looks at his face, his solid black eyes lifeless and his massive wings rested peacefully on his back. She screams and turns away running down the steps, leaving the door open just as it was.

“Did you hear that,” Tommy asks.

Sarah runs down the street, tears streaming down her face. She trips on the stairs of the deck of her house and falls and she lays there sobbing. She rolls over to her side, clutching where her unborn child rests inside of her.

 Gene and Tommy watch two old men in rocking chairs crack open beers, rifles sitting in their laps. Intrigued by the cackling of their voices they listen as the men relay stories about how they weren’t going to let anyone take them until they were damn well ready. One of the men raises his gun and shoots and a hovering demon, bringing Gene and Tommy’s attention back into focus.

“Hey, where’d that girl go,” Gene asks.

From inside her house, clamor can be heard as she rummages through drawers and closets, emptying their contents on the dusty floor. A gunshot echoes through the trees and the startled blackbirds fly away.

title: Walking without Wings

question: What does the title, Walking without Wings, mean?

answer: I don't understand the title.

question: Who are Tommy and Gene?

answer: They might be demons; it's unclear.

question: Why are they watching a girl "down there"?

answer: They're watching her watch a house; they're waiting for her to go inside.

question: What is the setting of this story?

answer: The story takes place after the apocalypse.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: The story takes place after the apocalypse. Tommy and Gene, who might be demons, sit in a maple tree watching Sarah. She has been watching a house for 2 day; they're waiting for her to go inside. She goes inside and sees a man with black eyes and massive wings on his back. She screams and runs away.


text:
TL;DR monkey poo makes great pudding.

In the mid 1950s the New York philharmonic was one of the best Symphony Orchestras in the world. And conducting was Major Jorge Fillmore. George Fillmore was a WWII vet who loved music, and found that conducting helped him keep his PTSD at a minimum (although PTSD had yet to be understood by the medical community, let alone given a name). The flow of the notes soothed his soul and the power of conducting such a large group to produce something so beautiful reminded him of his time commanding his troops through the dangers of war.

On a cold December night, the New York Philharmonic was warming up for their Christmas performance. The upper class from all around poured into Carnegie Hall and greeted one another. Conductor Fillmore got ready in the back room and the orchestra was out on stage, behind the curtain, getting ready to play, and practicing their most difficult runs.

Then when the time came and everyone was seated, the first chair violinist came on stage to much applause. He tuned the orchestra and then out came Major George Fillmore, his coat tails flowing behind him like curtains in the brease, as he walked briskly to the podium. He turned and bowed deeply to the audience and then addressed the orchestra and motioned to start the first piece. The audience well acquainted with these pieces sat quietly, enjoying the soft notes of Mozart as they floated through the hall.

But as quickly as everyone had relaxed to the music, they were pulled from their stuppor by a loud gunshot. Then screaming. The orchestra all scrambled for the exits, trying to keep their instruments safe. As the smoke settled and everyone calmed down, they found a dead French horn player, and the smoking gun in the hand of none other than Major George Fillmore. The French horn player had flubbed a note in his solo and Major Fillmore had snapped and shot him.

Major Fillmore claimed that he thought the player was wearing something that resembled a swastika and had triggered a flash back and caused him to shoot the player. But the orchestra knew that he had been yelling at that particular horn player for several weeks when he had been unable to play the solo properly. In the following weeks, a large and publicized trial was held. Fillmore was stripped of his rank and sentenced to death by electric chair.

Following the trial, George was held in prison for several years as he tried to appeal and at least lessen his sentence but unfortunately after lots of trying, the day came that he was to be killed. As a kindness to those about to die, the prison allowed the prisoners to request anything to eat, within reason. As it was this time for George, they asked him what he would like for his last meal.

"well," said George, "I like bananas... So I guess I guess I would love a bunch of bananas."
So they brought him a bunch of bananas. And within an hour he had eaten every single banana in the bunch, and with that, he was lead to the chair. They strapped him in and connected all the leads, and after saying his final farewells, they threw the switch. The first pulse of electricity was used to kill the brain and make the victim unconscious. Then a second pulse is used to cause the internal organs to fail. However, George was barely phased by the first pulse, and then started to convulse slowly during the second phase. Then everything fell quiet.

"Was that it?" asked George.

"Umm.. That's a first." said one of the scientists that had helped develop the chair.

They decided to put George back in prison while they made a few modifications to the chair. They decided to pull more power from the grid and just pump more juice to the chair. Hopefully this would at least kill him, but it could be more painful. Once the modifications had been made, they brought George back.

The prison warden had some pity for him, so he allowed him to have a second last meal. When asked what he wanted to eat, George said that he loved the bananas he had had before, this time he would like two bunches of bananas.

Sure enough within the hour, George had eaten both bunches of bananas, and was lead right back to that chair. They strapped him in again and threw the switch. When the first pulse hit him he clearly went unconscious, and all the lights in the surrounding city block dimmed noticably. And then during the second pulse, the current and voltage was so strong that lightning covered most of his torso, arcing from the helmet to the back plate to his arm rests.

When the pulse was over, they pulled him from the chair and laid him on a gurney and they rolled him down the hallway toward the morgue. As they reached the morgue, suddenly George sat upright. He looked around and let loose a howling scream that was unlike any sound the doctors had ever heard. He then fell back to the gurney but kept breathing.

Several hours later, he woke up again and was perfectly fine. The scientists, puzzled, decided that they really needed to finish him off once and for all. They had the electricity from all the surrounding towns, re routed to the chair. There was more power going to this chair than the Las Vegas Strip. Sure that this time they would kill him, they brought him back from the hospital, and gave him what they were sure would actually be his last meal.

Again, curiously, he ordered bananas. But he ordered 3 bunches this time. And as with the last two times, he ate every single banana within an hour. They brought him in and strapped him in, and flipped the switch. This time lightning erupted from George and the chair, arcing across the room like a massive tesla coil. The man who flipped the switch, not realizing the danger, had been struck dead by the massive arcs and everyone else stood cowering in the viewing room waiting for it all to be over.

Once it was over, they carefully pulled him from the chair, his hair singed off and second and third degree burns all over his body. They carried him down to the morgue where they double checked that he was dead. But alas. His heart was still beating. The scientists, determined to find out how he had survived, asked that he be nursed back to health so that they could ask him how he had survived.

After several months, George Fillmore came out of his coma, and the scientists all gathered around and asked him,

"How did you survive the chair three times?!"

"well," said George, "I guess I'm just a bad conductor."

title: The deadly Symphony (x - post from /r/feghoot)

question: Explain the punchline

answer: The authorities were amazed that this conductor who had been sentenced to death was able to withstand electrical shocks that no other human would have. To be electrocuted electricity has to pass through an object metal is a good conductor. The punchline of the story is a play on words suggesting since there are two meanings for the word conductor.

question: Why did the authorities have to keep increasing the power of the electric chair?

answer: No matter how much electricity the authorities pumped into Fillmore's body he kept recovering. This shouldn't happen. Electrocutions have been happening for decades so the authorities couldn't understand his ability to withstand the shocks. They were also determined to execute him.

question: Why did the condemned man keep ordering more and more bananas for his last meal?


text:
I heard about SUNY Maritime through ambush. I was woken early one Saturday morning at an insulting time by my mother. She told to get up because we’re going to see a college. I hadn’t visited any schools yet and this was October of my senior year. I didn’t even ask where I was so sleepy. I simply put on a heavy coat, took a blanket and pillow and lay my six foot wide frame in the back seat and slept. At some point in the five hour ride from D.C. to New York I remember waking up and asking where we were going, she might have said more but all I caught was New York. I remember thinking, “cool, that’s perfect, far enough, close enough,” and then falling asleep again. She woke me just as we approached the Throggs Neck exit.
I recall being bewildered by the unfamiliar street and having to ask somebody for directions from his car. We weren’t to far, and lowering the window after all that time let in the sea air – it was fantastic even if it was the Hudson. We took the turn down a long narrow back street, the only way in or out for that matter. When we finally came to a small round about with a giant stone wall opposite us with a connecting lever gate. At the entrance stood a guy in uniform, dress blues (how I know thee well). I had neither the heart nor the will to tell my mother after such a long drive I wasn’t going to do military school. But we still drove down the street, which ran along the northern side of the peninsula. At its widest it couldn’t be more than a hundred yards wide save a narrow strip the stretches out called the point. What I then thought to be a mile but later would learn was about half was the road we traveled on, a strait drive to the back of the school then back around again in a circle. From there it was your standard college open house, lots of bewildered and shy highschoolers shadowed by there parents. As a black kid I instantly noticed how few of me there were. We crowded into an auditorium to hear them ejaculate onto us and then tell us how it was the best ejaculate because it was a maritime ejaculate. I expected as much, then they asked us to divide into groups for the first half of the day, I remember thinking, I could do that in an hour (I actually would, often). We were taken through boring halls and standard classrooms. Two things of note and the only positives of that place: The Fort Schuler and the waterfront estate, damn I loved that water (never got in it though.). Then we were told to divide into our interest, I picked naval architecture. I loved to draw then and wanted something similar to my interest, but almost picked something else when m mom suggested it. Glad I did though, I walked into one of the classrooms in the science wing of the S & E (science and engineering). I saw a girl there with the last name Porshe, I don’t know why but she stuck with me, not particularly hot, little bit of a flat face and a sharp chin but it played well to me.  After they made jokes about the courses they basically said you don’t have to be in regiment to take this major. Regiment being the uniformed students, there was a minority of non-regimental ‘civilians’ that attended the school with out the hassle of regiment. But Porshe was regiment. We left the room and I recall wanting to make friends with the one guy who spoke up in there for the highschoolers just to be like “hey, you’re not the only fearless one among us,” but I couldn’t think of a reason to start a conversation when he was in front of me when they were filing out. We followed this with lunch, where I interacted with another prospect who was a total meat-head lax-bro who made vast proclamations about himself and what he’d do if he came there. (He did, and he sorta held true to the work out goals; what else do you do when you have a cheating gf, only weekend leave, and near no attractive girls. Not to say the girls aren’t talented, but they can’t help there anatomy. Another lesson I learned after enrolling). We separated from our parents at this point, they said they wanted to separate us like we inevitably would be on the day. Just champion stuff these guys, eh? This is when they drove home that the regiment is tough, fair, and easily manageable. I already lived most of the lifestyle, save the working out part, with all the private schooling I was ready. By then it was time to either tour the ship or leave, I was tired from all forced ejaculate they kept pinching my nose to give me so we left. My mother and I still left that place with an overall good view. Sadly fo future me, I knew that was to be my school the moment I saw the water.

title: This is a true story excerpt from the auto-biographic novel I'm working up. I wonder if you'll like the first draft (unspell-checked). Names are changed for here. This is Titled: Intro to SUNY.

question: What does the text say about SUNY Maritime?

answer: SUNY Maritime is a military college in New York. It contains a science and engineering department, and students of certain programs in that department are not required to be in regiment. At least some of the students are required to wear uniforms, but it is not clear whether this applies to the civilian students.

question: What does the text say about the narrator's friends?