text:
Intel and Micron today announced 3D Xpoint, a new class of memory that the companies are calling a "major breakthrough in memory process technology." 3D Xpoint (pronounced cross point) is said to be up to 1,000 times faster and more durable than the NAND Flash storage that's currently used in mobile devices and solid state drives. It's the first new memory chip to come to the market in 25 years.

Intel and Micron say that 3D Xpoint was built to create a non-volatile, high-performance high-capacity storage and memory solution that was also affordable. In addition to being faster than NAND Flash, it's also 10 times denser than the DRAM chips used in computers, which means much more data can be stored closer to the processor and accessed quickly.

A smartphone equipped with 3D Xpoint technology would potentially see much faster performance than a smartphone using existing technology. 3D Xpoint is also versatile -- fast enough to replace DRAM and stable enough to be used for long term storage. Initial capacity is 128 Gigabits (16GB) per die across two memory layers, but future generations of the 3D Xpoint will be able to increase the number of memory layers to improve system capacities.

[intel3dxpoint]

  The innovative, transistor-less cross point architecture creates a three-dimensional checkerboard where memory cells sit at the intersection of word lines and bit lines, allowing the cells to be addressed individually. As a result, data can be written and read in small sizes, leading to faster and more efficient read/write processes.

Intel and Micron provide several use cases for 3D Xpoint technology, suggesting it will let retailers quickly detect fraud patterns in financial transactions and allow healthcare researchers to process and analyze larger data sets in real time. For consumers, 3D Xpoint will allow "faster interactive social media" and more immersive gaming experiences.

  "One of the most significant hurdles in modern computing is the time it takes the processor to reach data on long-term storage," said Mark Adams, president of Micron. "This new class of non-volatile memory is a revolutionary technology that allows for quick access to enormous data sets and enables entirely new applications."

As a nascent technology, 3D Xpoint is designed to complement existing NAND Flash and DRAM options because it will likely be too expensive to serve as a standalone option at launch, but in the future, it has the potential to introduce dramatic performance improvements in mobile and desktop products.

According to Intel and Micron, 3D Xpoint samples will be available later this year to select customers, but mainstream use may be a ways off. It is not clear if Apple will adopt 3D Xpoint when it first becomes available, but the company does often aim to implement cutting edge technology in its devices for maximum speed and performance.

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question: What is 3D Xpoint?

answer: It's a new class of memory, which doesn't use transistors. Its architecture creates a three-dimensional checkerboard where memory cells sit at the intersection of word lines and bit lines, allowing the cells to be addressed individually. As a result, data can be written and read in small sizes, leading to faster and more efficient read/write processes.

question: What advantages does 3D Xpoint have compared to contemporary storage technology?

answer: It's a lot faster than the current fastest bulk storage devices. It's even 10x faster than DRAM.

question: Explain the potential applications of 3D Xpoint.

answer: The technology can facilitate quicker detection of fraud patterns in financial transactions, allow larger datasets to be processed, and allow more immersive gaming experiences.

question: How quickly is 3D Xpoint expected to replace the current storage devices?

answer: Definitely not soon. At launch, it will complement current storage options.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Intel and Micron announce 3D Xpoint (pronounced cross point), a new class of memory that's about 1000 times faster and durable than NAND flash that's currently used in mobile devices and solid state drives. In addition, it's also 10 times faster than DRAM chips. This would allow a lot more data to be stored close to processors, which would reduce data transfer times greatly. Due to being new, it's expected to be expensive. While it will be complementary to other storage options at launch, it has great potential to improve the performance of digital storage and computing.


split: train

text:
A stunning new forecast projects that the internal combustion engine, along with the entire oil industry, are going to vanish from the face of the earth in little more than a decade. And it's all because of the robot revolution.

By 2030, rapid technological improvements and dramatic cost efficiencies in self-driving electric vehicles (EV) will sweep away the energy and economics of oil-powered cars; and with it, global oil demand will plummet. This is the verdict of a new report, _Rethinking Transportation 2020-2030: The Disruption of Transportation and the Collapse of the ICE Vehicle and Oil Industries_, published in May from independent research group, RethinkX.

Co-authored by venture investor James Arbib, founder of the philanthropic environmental foundation Tellus Mater, and serial entrepreneur Tony Seba, a lecturer in technology disruption and clean energy at Stanford University, the report takes aim at mainstream forecasts which project more modest adoption rates for electric cars.

The impact of automation, it says, on both the automobile and oil industries will not just be profoundly disruptive: it will be fatal. Vast oil reserves will become stranded, and trillions of dollars in oil industry investments will become worthless, as a revolution in technology takes over.

As a result, most people will gratefully ditch their own cars, participating instead in a breakthrough economy of electric vehicle fleets—shared cars that can be used when needed—which can be accessed far more cheaply and at someone's convenience.

THE S-CURVE

Carbon Tracker, a think-tank in London, projects that electric vehicles will account for some 35 percent of the road transport market by 2035. This is faster than most projections. BP's 2017 _World Energy Outlook_ puts the figure at only 6 percent.

But Arbib and Seba say those incremental forecasts are based on outdated methodologies that failed to anticipate the speed and scale of recent technological disruptions. Think mobile phones, microwave ovens or digital cameras. Mass adoption of such disruptive technologies followed an "S-curve"—they increased slowly at first, then accelerated, before rapidly approaching an exponential growth rate.

"Uber, a company founded in 2008, now has more bookings in 2016 than the whole taxi industry in the entire United States. Now that's what you call disruption," report co-author Tony Seba told me. "And it happened in just 12 years. Disruptions do happen, and they're happening more and more quickly."

Electric cars are already following the S-curve, he said. Seba's approach integrates analysis of how the technology is experiencing massive reduction in costs, while generating increasing returns, all the while pushing through new technological innovations at a rapid pace—trends which fundamentally transform whole markets.

The model's results are astonishing. If US regulations catch up by 2021, Arbib and Seba predict that within just 10 years from then: "95% of all passenger miles will be served by transport-as-a-service (Taas) providers who will own and operate fleets of autonomous electric vehicles providing passengers with higher levels of service, faster rides and vastly increased safety at a cost up to 10 times cheaper than today's individually owned (IO) vehicles."

This means we will share cars at the click of a button, at massively reduced costs, on safer smartly managed roads, and with potentially much less impact on the environment.

Dr. Nathan Hagans, a former Vice President at Lehman Brothers who now teaches ecology at the University of Minnesota, told me that this scenario depended on fully self-driving cars being available within a clear regulatory framework, an event he said is "highly doubtful" based on actual announcements by car manufacturers.

But the report points out that things are changing fast: California has already proposed rules to allow fully autonomous vehicles as early as this year, for instance.

GIVING UP CAR CONTROL

The authors said using these cars will simply get so cheap and convenient that it will no longer make economic sense to own and drive your own car. But if you're rural or suburban folks, you might hang on to your old ride until there's a critical mass.

Hagens questions whether the report's scenario accounts for one common private transport modes—commutes. Lots of people "move from outside into the city, leave the car and return in the evening. There is no vehicle sharing model that supports this."

Citing US government data, Arbib told me that this is not a problem for the model: "Only a small proportion of commutes are between rural and urban areas. And commutes generally are only 15% of daily trips."

But are Americans really going to give up their own cars so easily? "We are attracted to the emotional efficiency of walking out our door, getting in our own car and going somewhere we choose, and choosing to stop somewhere in between," said Hagens. "The new model will be to wait, even if only for 5 minutes, for a self-driving car—the 'control', 'novelty', 'unexpected reward' aspects of driving will go away."

Arbib and Seba have a simple reply to this. A century ago, they argue, the internal combustion engine led cars to disrupt horse transportation within little more than a decade. At the time, nobody thought it was possible because "we loved our horses." And we all know what happened then.

"Countries that fail to lead or make a transition to TaaS will become the 21st century equivalents of horse-based countries trying to compete with economies whose transportation systems are based on cars, trucks, tractors and airplanes", concludes the RethinkX report.

The biggest driver of the disruption, said Arbib, is the cost. "The cost will be so radically lower that it could still incentivise rural users who are on average poorer; and it will be relatively easy to plan and book long trips in advance." Not only would the new vehicles be cheaper, but the old, oil-fueled ones will be too expensive to maintain.

"Once we hit around 55 to 70 percent adoption, it becomes more difficult to operate old vehicles. That sort of mass adoption creates a tipping point which could make even our 95% prediction conservative."

Even if rural areas hang back, the urban impact will be so huge that the market for new cars will shrink: in short, incumbent transport businesses will collapse unless they find a way to reinvent themselves either as hardware manufacturers or transport providers themselves.

As individual car ownership drops, the number of cars on the road will fall by as much as 80 percent. And as most cars are not used most of the time, just 26 million TaaS vehicles would be sufficient to meet all US demand in 2030.

THE COLLAPSE OF BIG OIL

If Arbib and Seba are right, the oil industry is about to face an unprecedented existential crisis. Global oil demand, they predict, will drop from 100 million barrels per day in 2020, to around 70 million barrels per day in 2030. The price of oil will drop to around $25 per barrel, and could collapse even earlier, by around 2021.

Not only will high-cost oil fields be completely stranded, but big pipeline projects like Keystone XL and Dakota Access would be dead in the water.

Oil exporting heavy-hitters like Saudi Arabia, Venezuela, Nigeria and Russia will (and have started to) face growing political instability as their primary source of revenue evaporates. These countries could become embroiled in "growing debt, cuts in social welfare expenditures and increasing poverty and inequality."

While this would pose short-term geopolitical risks to the US, the stakes would be less high due to the decreased demand for oil from these regions.

READ MORE: WE NEED TO ACCEPT THAT OIL IS A DYING INDUSTRY

But there could be other challenges. Hagens warned that there would be a large upscaling of industry to sustain the shift to self-driving electric vehicle. Supply bottlenecks for key raw materials and minerals like lithium and cobalt were possible.

Arbib wasn't deterred. He conceded that vehicle lifetime under the new model would be much shorter, but said: "There wouldn't be huge production volumes partly because there will be overall a lot less vehicles; more miles, yes, but radically less vehicles." Which means less material resources.

According to Professor Ugo Bardi of the Department of Earth Sciences at the University of Florence, Hagens' concerns about resources are valid: the report's suggestions are viable, but not easy.

"They seem to neglect the need of upgrading the grid and the whole energy infrastructure in order to provide more renewable electric power," said Bardi, whose own research has found that investments in new renewables are still too low and slow to stop climate change.

Without those investments, "we won't have enough energy to power all the needs we have – including transportation." And at worst, the need to sustain TaaS might create a short-term push for more coal plants, "which would spell disaster in many ways."

Seba argued that even without substantial investment, the existing US electricity infrastructure would be able to handle the extra load, with most charging done at night: "Also, the companies driving this are already building their own infrastructure for charging, and they are even starting to build their own solar and wind plants."

While it's hard to imagine such a large, dramatic shift in the next decade, Bardi told me that the fundamentals of the RethinkX forecast are plausible: "They [the RethinkX authors] really nailed it…Whether all that can happen as fast as they say is another matter. But it might."

And there seems little doubt that the US is on the brink of a major transport disruption. Only time will tell how fast and sustainably it scales.

In the meantime, you might want to lovingly take your car for a spin just in case the robots take it away.

question: When was the article written?

answer: Sometime in or after 2017

question: Who authored the report?

answer: James Arbib, founder of Tellus Mater, and Tony Seba, an entrepreneur and a lecturer at Stanford University

question: Why do this report's predictions differ so greatly from previous reports?

answer: The authors claim that previous reports were based on outdated methodologies that fail to account for the speed and scale of recent technological disruptions

question: What is TaaS?

answer: Transportation as a Service

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: A new report predicts that self-driving electric vehicles will almost completely replace oil-powered cars by 2030.


text:
The first thing you do is butter the bun. Then you drop it down the toaster. The toaster takes approximately eighteen seconds to toast. You then put the top and bottom together, place them on a red tray and then cover the twelve buns that fit on the tray, 4x3,  with another tray and place them to the side. Once you are ready to make the sandwich you place two pickles on the bottom, no more than a quarter inch over lapping. Then you place the chicken filet with the smooth, round side facing up and then place the crown of the bun on top. Finally open up the sandwich bag allowing enough room for the sandwich to easily slide in, then fold the bag over twice and place it in the warming drawer for five minutes. Any sandwich that sits there for longer than five minutes gets trashed. If you would like a deluxe sandwich then place either a slice of American, provolone, or pepper jack cheese on top of the filet, then put two, whole, tomato slices on top of the cheese and two pieces of lettuce, shiny side up, that frame the bun on top of the tomatoes. Then repeat until your soul has been crushed, pissed on, and every dream and fire that has ever existed in you has been stomped out by the ceaseless, monotonous work you subject yourself to in order to not even get by.

They, being the people who don’t work with you, will remind you that you chose to be there, just be thankful to have a job, or that it is just temporary. You know that isn’t true though. You can’t find a better job because you are working 50 hours a week and you are too tired to do anything else. You can barely even find the energy or will power to get out of bed in the morning. Every once in a while you feel like you have enough energy and fortitude to say enough is enough and move on but then you realize your life revolves around this job. All of your friends are there. They are the people that deal with all of the shitty customers who think they are the Queen of god damn England, the ones who think they own you because you stand behind a register. Your coworkers are the ones that after all the shit you put up with tell to forget the customer, he is an asshole, you didn’t do anything wrong, people like that just happen. You have a bond with your coworkers, like brother in arms who are united by their common misery. So the cycle repeats, week after week after week after week after week after week as if your days are manufactured on an assembly line.

Then you find yourself waking up in the tiny room you call an apartment. You shower and head to work and start your day off like you have the past, seemingly, five thousand days. You clock in, take your slip that shows the time you clocked in and put it your wallet. Then you say high to everyone. Then you either go to the kitchen or the front counter depending on what you are assigned that day. Then you spend the next ten hours slaving away like the robot you are. You listen to the exact same orders, make the exact same food and you have the exact same routine to live by. Then you watch your boss drive up in his new, gas guzzling behemoth of a truck and say “Hi!” to everyone as if he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. It is as if he has no idea what the people he employs put up with on a daily basis. It is as if he hopes his friendly disposition will be contagious but what does he do besides sit in that office of his in the back while you are the one who gets burned at the fryers and the one who has to choose if it is worth turning the heat on at night. You are the one that has to decide whether or not to fix your car or just walk the five miles or so. The one who should just deal with the tooth ache or dish out the three thousand dollars for a root canal because god forbid giving his employees health insurance would just decimate his profits. No one likes the boss.

Between the shitty boss, shitty job, and shitty house and lifestyle what can you find to be joyous about? You are simply a tiny little speck. In fact you aren’t even speck in the scheme of things. You are less than a pixel, you are less than even the red, blue, and green lights that make up a pixel. You are nonexistent and utterly replaceable and no one will notice if you go. Just like no one has noticed the billions of stars that have existed and perished and no one ever will. Just like no one ever notices the trillions of bacteria that are beneath our feet. That is what you amount to. At some point we have all been there. The thing is though that not all of us end there. That is the saving grace. There is a glimmer of a hope that one day you can escape the cycle of the daily grind. Get a degree if you are young enough, have a support system while you find a better job, or maybe you are stronger than most and do it all alone.

Not everyone is lucky though. Sometimes the grind wears you down and grinds you to you are so thin that you become a part of the walls there. You are an everlasting stone that will be a part of where you are stuck, just like the walls. Bills add up and sooner than you know it you are living out on the streets and left with nothing but free time. Maybe you cope with a steady dose of drugs. Maybe you cope with a healthier method. Either way it leads to the same thing. If you aren’t apart of the club, the haves, then you better get used to meaningless, mindless tasks that ask nothing of you but obedience.  The boss, the haves, will tell you that working at these crummy soul devouring jobs is fine. What would they know about what you do though? It is not a matter of them being any less hard working but it is a matter of having something to show for it. If you work at a restaurant and you can’t even afford to eat there they pay you so little then what is the point?

It gets to the point where thinking physically hurts. It breaks you just as bad as your job does. You think of all the things that you gave up, that you let slip by and you think never again will I let that happen, but it is too late. You have already buttered the buns. You have dropped them in the toaster. You have placed them on the tray. Put the two pickles on the bun, then the filet, and then the top part of the bun. You have wrapped the sandwich and placed it in the warming drawer until you throw it up for the next customer to devour or for it to get thrown away because it has been the warmer to long and has grown hard and unpleasant and unwanted.

title: A Man's Thoughts on Never Getting His Slice of the Pie in a Southern Town with Nothing Left to Live For.

question: What is the story saying about working in this particular town?

answer: The protagonist clearly doesn't have a favorable outlook on their situation. The work they do is pointless and unfulfilling, they feel overworked and underappreciated, as if they have reached a block in their life. The story seem to suggest that without ambition, the mundane nature of work will suck the soul from the person doing it.

question: What are the positive aspects of their life that the narrator brings to light?

answer: The fact that they aren't in it alone, all of their friends are there and they go through the same stuff as they do. There is also a glimmer of hope in the respect that they might be able to do something more if they try. There's also the

question: Why can't the narrator move on from this job?

question: What is the role of food in this story?

answer: The food represents the mundanity of the narrators working life. The routine nature of the way they describe the making of a burger indicates how bored they are. Everything is timed, everything is in order, it's the same pattern over and over again. At the end the sandwich in the warmer is a representation of the protagonist themself, growing hard and unpleasant and so deserving of being thrown out. The role of the food is to represent the life of the narrator in simple terms.


text:
Not to put too fine a point on it, but “Avengers: Infinity War” is, well, big. It had to be in order to pull the various strands of a sprawling cinematic universe together. The question is: Can this on-screen world get even bigger?

“We never think in terms of ‘big,'” co-director Joe Russo says. “We think in terms of story, and a culmination story of 18 films and a bunch of successful franchises is of a certain scale … But that’s not a mandate you can follow as a filmmaker. That’s a path that leads to nowhere.”

Fair enough, but just given what’s on the table in terms of Marvel’s television exploits (shows like “Daredevil” and “The Punisher” on Netflix, or “Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.” on ABC), there was already plenty more to work with.

“We made the briefest consideration of [including TV characters in ‘Infinity War’],” co-director Anthony Russo says. “When we’re alone in a room with [screenwriters Christopher] Markus and [Stephen] McFeely, we consider every idea. We like thinking of everything. But it seemed like the story that had been told within the movies was so specific and elaborate already that once we started working through the story, we knew we had our hands full just with this set of characters and narratives.”

Nevertheless, for a company that builds things out in phases, there is always the next phase to consider. Given Disney’s ongoing effort to acquire Fox’s film assets, Marvel Studios’ movie horizons could soon broaden overnight. Media and fans alike have speculated endlessly about what the addition of properties like the X-Men and Fantastic Four could mean to the universe painstakingly constructed over the last 10 years. A character like Silver Surfer, for example, would have felt right at home in “Infinity War” (Indeed, he is a fixture of the “Infinity Gauntlet” comic book series that served as source material for the new film).

“I think just as far as where that specific deal is at right now, it’s not at the point where we can start working with those characters on a creative level yet,” Anthony Russo says. “We’d love to and hopefully it will all work out some day, but it’s not in the time frame of these movies that we’re making right now.”

The brothers stirred excitement recently by merely breathing the two words “Secret Wars,” invoking the 1984 series that captured the hearts of fans the world over. The ultimate Marvel mash-up at the time, writer Jim Shooter’s story amassed all of the label’s heroes from the Avengers, Fantastic Four, X-Men, and more for a galactic tale that spawned a sequel the very next year. “That was probably the most important book to me growing up,” Joe Russo says.

Whether they’ll get a chance to tinker with those characters or not, we’ll have to wait and see. But the Russos’ intention is to stick with Marvel after the next “Avengers” film finally puts a bow on this decade’s build. And if a shiny new set of toys does arrive, they aren’t likely to be blinded by the prospects.

“If you ever think in terms of outdoing, you tend to trip over your own two feet,” Joe Russo says. “You really have to commit to, ‘What is the narrative here? What story are we trying to tell? What is required to tell that story?'”

FOR MORE FROM THE RUSSOS ON THEIR LATEST MARVEL BLOCKBUSTER, CHECK OUT THE LATEST EPISODE OF _VARIETY_ AND IHEARTRADIO’S “PLAYBACK” PODCAST.

RELATED CONTENT:

question: Who are the directors of Avengers: Infinity War?

answer: Joe Russo and Anthony Russo.

question: What do the directors want to achieve in the Avengers: Infinity War?

answer: They want a great culminating story to The Avengers series.

question: Are the directors planning to include X-Men and Fantastic Four characters in the Avengers: Infinity War?

answer: They are considering it, but it's not decided yet.

question: What is the Secret Wars?

answer: It is a 1984 Marvel series.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The Avengers: Infinity Wars directors, Joe Russo and Anthony Russo, are still gathering ideas on a great culminating story to The Avengers series. Whether or not they'll include X-Men and Fantastic Four characters in Infinity War, the viewers will find out soon.


text:
Something I wrote while trying to sleep. Fuck grammar, syntax, and structure, for now.

How does someone wake up everyday wanting to shoot themselves? I wonder this everyday. I wake up. I open my eyes. I wait for reality to seep in, and I cry. I don't know why I do this or if anyone one else does this;but I do. I wait for my nerves to calm down and get ready for the sound of my perpetual fan to fill my ears, and I stop. Sure, I wonder, when is this gonna stop? Is my nose red? Will my family notice how red my eyes are? But, regardless, I wake up; I find my shoes; I put on some pants and walk out. At first I really don't notice anything. I hear the snores of my father, sometimes my mother's. I walk towards the bathroom in the hallway and stare into the mirror. My eyes are red, and my nose is red. I don't really think people notice how red my eyes are anymore. I think they just think it's normal. The majority of people don't say anything and think it's natural. You know, like when someone has a rather large mole underneath their left eye or when someone's nose has clinging mucus. I, and they, don't say anything. I just smile through the bullshit of reality and hope that they don't notice that I've noticed.
I've always wanted to meet some lovely girl with a lazy eye, you know, a really, really lazy eye. I mean, she's be absolutely beautiful. Her lips would have they radiating pinkness which would vibrate in the dark. Her hair would be eternally black and wavy, kinda like that fear you feel when you stare into the woods at night. Her body would be sharp, tight, and skinny like a ballerina that moves violently, perfectly on her toes. I would meet her somewhere...like some fucked up bench outside of an abandoned school's playground. She's be smoking a girly cigarette and pretend like I wasn't there when I'd come up to her. I sit next to her, she'd look at me and smile. At first I'd think she's just staring at the ground, modestly smiling at my presence. But I'd soon realize that I'm looking her lazy eye. She really wouldn't say anything, just mumble something like, "I used come here when my parents were beat each other up. They never really noticed I'd leave." I sadly smile and fall in love with her. She's stand up after a while, slowly tip toeing around the room, each second that'd pass her toes would move faster and faster and faster. I'd hear and watch them click across the concrete. Then, out of nowhere, she'd laugh. At first it'd shock me, I'd think, "What a deep laugh for a girl so small." Then she's begin again, moving her body. I'd tear up, a little. Then she'd whisper, I must leave. She'd come up to me, with lazy eye and all, and kiss me, half on the lips, half on the cheek. It wouldn't be sexual. It wouldn't be dull. It'd feel perfect. I'd sit there a while watching the trees sway and imitate her dance in the heavy, high wind. The moon would shine too brightly, but wouldn't be able to overcome the darkness. I wish I'd meet her.
So I rub my nose and some watery substance drains out. I look again, some minutes have passed since I started thinking about her, my nose is no longer red. I sit on the toilet with my pants still on and wait for my mood to change. After sometime passes and I realize I need to get to work soon, I shift my thoughts. I focus on my clothing, on brushing my teeth, and taking a piss. After I do all those things I sit again on the toilet. I sigh. I walk out my front door, lock it behind me, and begin walking.

title: untitled

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: He is a guy who wakes up every morning crying.

question: Why does he want to shoot himself after waking up every day?

answer: It is implied that he seems to dislike his reality/life.

question: Who is the girl with the lazy eye?

answer: She is the ideal girl he wants to meet someday. She isn't real.

question: Why does the narrator cry every morning after waking up?

answer: It is implied that he feels frustrated because he hasn't met the girl with the lazy eye yet, and wonders when it will happen to make the crying stop.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is a guy who wakes up every day and cries until his eyes and nose are red. He wants to shoot himself after waking up each day out of frustration because he hasn't met the girl with the lazy eye yet, the girl he keeps envisioning in his mind in full detail, down to her wavy black hair. He wants to shoot himself because he feels he loves this imaginary girl, and she's the only one who can make the crying stop.


text:
[Stephen Conroy Wants Back In As Communications Minister]

Never has a chalice been so particularly poisoned as the one sipped by former Communications Minister Stephen Conroy. After his tumble out of the spotlight, he’s throwing his hat back into the ring to be the Labor Party’s new Shadow Communications Minister.

Conroy told _Sky News_ yesterday (as reported by iTNews this morning) that, after much soul searching, he has advised Labor Party colleagues that he’d like his old position back in the yet-to-be-formed Shadow Cabinet ministry.

The former Communications Minister has been in political exile after backing the former Prime Minister Julia Gillard in the Labor leadership challenge that saw Kevin Rudd elected by Caucus members to the head of the party.

The position of Communications Minister was taken by Anthony Albanese in the lead-up to the Federal Election, but speculation is mounting that Albo will ascend to the head of the party following Kevin Rudd’s post-election resignation.

Conroy says that he wants to return to the ministry to hold Prime Minister-elect Tony Abbott and former Shadow Communications Minister Malcolm Turnbull to account.

As of right now, the only position that’s for sure in both the Coalition cabinet and in the new Labor Opposition is that of Tony Abbott, who will be sworn in as Prime Minister next week. It’s impolite to speak out of turn about a Cabinet or front-bench position unless it has been offered to you, hence why Malcolm Turnbull is being coy about his position on the front bench. For all we know, Turnbull could be shipped over to the Defence portfolio as former Optus executive-turned-MP Paul Fletcher swoops in to handle the tricky job of Communications Minister.

Until the Ministry is announced, it’s all just speculation. [Sky News via iTNews]

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question: What new role is Stephen Conroy taking?

answer: The Labor Party's Shadow Communications Minister.

question: Who took the position of Communications Minister?

answer: Anthony Albanese.

question: Who does Conroy want to hold accountable?

answer: Prime Minister-elect Tony Abbott.

question: Why was Stephen Conroy in political exile?

answer: He backed former Prime Minster Julia Gillard in the Labor leadership challenge.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The article speculates about whether Stephen Conroy will take a position as Shadow Communication Minister for the Labor Party in [Australian] Parliament. It discusses Conroy's former political career, but mentions that it is all just speculation up until the point the new Prime Minister, Conservative Tony Abbott, is sworn.


text:
I had a home. It was such a lovely sight. It was a home for the entire world to see, but a home just for her and I. We had planned, arranged, blueprinted, and constructed an exquisite, splendid little home. It filled us with hope for a brighter future, for a better to-morrow. That future never came, and that to-morrow was ever elusive. Nevertheless, we had a home – I had a home.

We were to live out our lives, our years, in that home. Those years would be filled with hardships, with grief and sorrow. Our sweet little home was merely an idyllic facet of our otherwise melancholic lives. It was through no fault of hers, or my own… it was merely life.

Our home was located in an otherwise unremarkable field, a few miles from a small town. It was peaceful. There was not the cacophonous bustle of a city, or its night-sky quelling light. The location was perfect, for the most part. She loved our home; she loved me too. I loved our home; I loved her too.

Our home carried us through our years, not seeming to care, but all the while keeping her safe. Outside our home, the world was a very dangerous place. It was dangerous for her, not for me. Her body was not capable of protecting her from the outside; I wish it could, not for my sake, but for hers.

Her home had been meticulously planned to be completely insulated from the outside. She loved it, but the outside always called to her. Softly, the breeze would whisper, and she would ignore it. The outside was not for her, this place – our home – was.

Within our home we abandoned the outside. For years our home kept us – her – safe from that outside world, and for years we lived in what we called peace. It wasn’t peace, though, and life was difficult; yet it didn’t matter. Within our home we had each other.

I had a home – a home for her and I. The trees, the birds, and all manner of outside things became things of interest, and after time, she gave in. She had to explore. Years of being inside had made her restless; under the cover of night, she stepped outside. She stepped, and stepped, and stepped, until she could step no more.

Our home was far behind; she stood, basking in the pale light of the moon. She stood, listening to the quiet of the night. She stood, with the soft breeze against her face. The grass called, and she answered, laying in it, still bathed in that pale moon light. She closed her eyes, and she slept. Under a blanket of stars, she slept. Her adventure was over.

In our home, I awoke to no one beside me. I was scared, more so than I had ever been. She was always there. Our home never had just one. It was her home, and it was my home – it was our home, and we were always in it.

I found her, in a field not far from our home. She lay in a field of un-cut grass, and she looked peaceful – more so than she had throughout life. I lay in that field beside her, and I cried. Tears glistening in the early morning sun rolled gently down my face; I lay beside her for the last time. In that field, she was buried, her funeral attended only by me.

I had a home. I had a home that was not meant for just me, or just for her, but existed for her and I. That home was where I lived out most of my years, and where she lived out most of hers. That is not my home anymore. Without her, it is not a home, but merely a house. It is a house in an otherwise unremarkable field, a few miles from a small town.

title: Home

question: What feelings do the narrator's home evoke?

answer: The narrator's home evokes feeling of happiness, security, and comfyness.

question: What was the world viewed as outside of the narrator's home?

answer: Outside of the narrator's home, the world was viewed as a very scary place, a place that had no protection for them.

question: What was the most important component of the narrator's home?

answer: The most important component of the narrator's home was his love. The person he loved made the home complete for him.

question: Could this story be seen as abusive or isolating?

answer: Yes, this story can be seen as abusive or isolating because it does not seem as though the narrator would let his love ever leave the house because he was afraid she would not be protected. It can be assumed that his love was in the house all the time until she died.


text:
_It’s February, which means the_ _NBA trade deadline_ _is right around the corner. Historically, most moves happen close to the trade deadline. Teams want to know what they have and evaluate how strong their assets are for as long as possible before making a deal. It’s no secret how it all works, the contenders try to make trades that give their team a better chance at the title, and everyone else makes trades to try to get future assets, draft picks, or cut some salary._

_Every team has a number of options on the table._ _As Stan Van Gundy once said__, “Everyone in the league is available for the right price!” With that in mind, let’s look at some players that could be available at the deadline, and what it would take for the_ _Wizards_ _to get them. Next up:_ _Brook Lopez_

The Nets aren’t going anywhere fast these days, so it wouldn’t be surprising if Brooklyn shopped their big man before the deadline, especially to get some much-needed draft picks for the future. Problem is, Brook Lopez makes $21.1 million this season and $22.6 million next season. The money itself isn’t a big issue for Brooklyn, considering the Nets are under the cap, but it makes it harder for other teams to put together trade packages to absorb his salary. In order to make a deal work for Washington, a trade would have to look something like this:

WASHINGTON RECEIVES: Brook Lopez

BROOKLYN RECEIVES: Marcin Gortat, Andrew Nicholson, Washington’s 2017 first round pick

Lopez would give the Wizards a more dynamic scoring option in the low post and can also space the floor out to the three point line. He’d take the Wizards’ offense to an even higher level. Plus, he’d allow the Wizards to shed Nicholson’s long-term deal.

Here’s the problem: The Wizards would suffer drastically on the rebounding front. Lopez is averaging 5.6 rebounds per 36 minutes less than Gortat this season. On the offensive end alone, Gortat snags 1.5 more offensive rebounds per game.

Lopez blocks more shots than Gortat, but otherwise, he’s big downgrade defensively. He isn’t as mobile, so he would struggle when switching onto perimeter players. His poor rebounding would allow opposing teams to create more second chance opportunities against an already vulnerable defense.

Plus, some of Lopez’s advantages on the offensive end would be mitigated as part of a smaller role in Washington. He’s a solid scorer, but how many touches and shots do you want him taking from John Wall, Bradley Beal, Otto Porter, and Markieff Morris? It’s not like the Wizards need a big jolt on the offensive end. The starting unit is averaging 112.7 points per 100 possessions, more than the Clippers’ average with Chris Paul, J.J. Redick, Luc Mbah A Moute, Blake Griffin, and DeAndre Jordan on the floor together.

I wouldn’t touch this move with a ten-foot pole if I were the Wizards because of the synergy this starting five has with one another. Lopez would disrupt the team’s chemistry as he adjusts to a new role, and he would either not help or actively hurt the team in other areas. The deal is already problematic before you even get to the part about throwing in a first round pick. His game is nice, but it’s a luxury on a team whose biggest weaknesses are on the defensive end.

question: What does February mean in the NBA?

answer: The NBA trade deadline is right around the corner.

question: Why do teams wait for as long as possible before making a deal?

answer: Teams want to know what they have and evaluate how strong their assets are by listening to all possible options on the table first.

question: Why does the author think trading for Lopez is a bad deal for Washington?

answer: Because although Lopez brings a solid offensive game and can space the floor, he's a liability on defense and rebounding. Lopez will also disrupt the team's chemistry.

question: What would happen if Brooklyn doesn't trade Lopez at the deadline?

answer: It would be harder for other teams to put together trade packages to absorb Lopez's salary.


text:
„Purge it!“ Ramsey looked down to the screen. His fingertips hovered above a small rectangle which would unleash hell. Again, the sharp voice cut through the mayhem on the bridge. „Commander, I need your acknowledgement. Purge it!" Since the spaceship was already shaking from missile hit after missile hit, nobody noticed his trembling hand.
His gaze wandered a little higher to the massive observation window. The curvature could clearly be seen, seperating ground and heaven. Ramsey remembered being down there once, sitting in a space port with some friends from the academy and listening to an interesting history talk.

He had purged a moon six months before. There were riots on the small colony Triton-4, and Benson had ordered the same command. It was just a small colony. But together with the eight other colonies on the moon they were building a new jumpgate in Neptun's orbit. The first one was fully operational and orbiting Uranus, about 12 billion spacemen had already traveled to their new homes a few dozen lightyears away. It was a slow process, and an expensive one. Luckily the people on the surfaces volunteered for the hard work – at least all the officers told so.

But now he was in doubt. A big fleet of construction ships was hovering near the sun, ready to install the solar panels for the giant Dyson sphere. Ramsey hadn't fully grasped the concept, but it was something like a bubble around the sun. It would still let some light pass through, but could harness the energy and solve all their energy problems.
Somehow, the people down their didn't like that and broke the 70 year long peace by blowing two of the construction ships up. Things escalated quickly and a week later the Omega's weapon systems were programmed to destroy 500 million km², ready to tansform the surface into a billowing, red-glowing mass.

Their spaceship was built for only one thing: Annihilating surfaces. With a length of 327 meters it carried an arsenal of the most devastating weapons ever created, and after its deployment the third world war came to a grinding halt. That was 90 years ago, and while much bigger ships were built, all of them combined still couldn't match the unique firepower of the Omega.
It was a tool of peace and stability, his captain said. Ramsey remembered watching the surface of Triton evaporate under their glowing beams and heavy bombardement, but he didn't feel peaceful at all.

"Shield system critical", the computer voice rattled. They could sustain the attack for another minute, maybe two. Unless he touched the small rectangle. But he couldn't do it. "Captain, this is insane. We can't decide the fate of 9 billion people." - "We can, and we must. As they shot our unarmed construction ships down, they knew what they did. And you know what to to, acknowledge my order and purge those surfacemen!" Captain Benson clenched her fist. "Commander, now!"
Surely she was right. Her orders came directly from the artificial intelligence, and it had never been wrong. If he touched the rectangle, he would be the hero of the day and the war was over. But if he didn't, the missiles from the surface would break their shield in a few seconds and then their armored hull in a few more. There was no more time to think. His finger jerked down.

In a millisecond, the computer scanned his DNA and initalized the launch process. "Authentication phrase", chattered the computer voice. Ramsey stared through the observation window at the soft glow of the atmosphere.   The authentication phrase glared in his thoughts like the sun. He chose it a long time ago, as he visited the planet. It was after a history talk – maybe an hour long and illustrated with lots of pictures. Beautiful pictures from the ancient times. Their history. Slowly, he uttered the authentication phrase. "Earth ... is ... beautiful."

title: I don't like happy ends [~650 words]

question: Why could subsequent ships not challenge the firepower of the Omega, 90 years after it was deployed?

answer: Duplication of such firepower may not have been necessary. It may also have been more difficult to control more than one such powerful machine.

question: Why were the people rebelling against the construction of solar panels around the sun?

answer: Perhaps they don't understand the reason for the construction. This is likely since Ramsey, an educated man, doesn't understand it. Combine a lack of understanding with a mistrust of government and you have a recipe for dissension.

question: How does Ramsay know that Benson's orders come from AI?

answer: He can't know for sure. Even if he saw the instructions come up on the computer screen, there is no knowing where it originated.

question: Why has Ramsay so much faith in AI?

answer: It has never been wrong before. But how does he know that? If you carry out an action you can never know what would have happened if an alternative action had been taken

question: Write a ~16 sentence summary.

answer:
Ramsey looked down at the screen. His fingertips hovered above a small rectangle which would unleash hell. “Purge it” his command. He had purged a moon six months before. There were riots in the colony and Benson had issued the same command.

They were building a new jump gate in Neptune's orbit. 12 billion spacemen had already travelled to their new homes a few dozen lightyears away. Their spaceship was built for only one thing: Annihilating surfaces. It carried an arsenal of the most devastating weapons ever created. After its deployment, the third world war came to a grinding halt.

If he touched the small button, he would seal the fate of 9 billion people. He couldn’t do it but Captain Benson commanded it. She was informed by AI. If he touched the button, he’d be a hero. If he didn’t the ship would be destroyed. He pressed the button.


text:
The ocean was calm as the sun began to fall behind the horizon.

On the veranda of a home long since filled with happiness and love stood a man who looked as one that had been a prisoner by the harshness of time.

"I never realised until now how beautiful the dark blue of the ocean is" said the man in a voice that has known much agony. "It is beautiful don't you think.." he staggered, as if a painful memory invaded him at that moment. Slowly he turned, and glanced around to find the room still untouched and void of life.
Though the ocean air was cool, the room around him felt constraining and hot, as if every breath heeded more effort than the next.

"..the ocean is beautiful, it can at one moment be the embodiment of tranquility and then in the next be filled with uncompromising wrath, and injustice" he continued. "For she was the beauty that the ocean radiates, we were the peacefulness that love fulfills and you..you were the injustice that took it all away" said the man as anger began to arise.

He turned and walked inside the room. He made his way slowly towards the mantel piece that stood as a shrine of past memories. Outside the waves behind him began to stir, as the wind lifted and the signs of a storm were revealing itself. Next to the mantel, he reached and gripped a photograph, and lost himself in the image.

He began to speak as if directed to someone listening; "this is how I try to remember her, forever young, forever
beautiful." "In the rare nights that sleep finally found me, I would dream of her as she once was, then, in a cruel twist she fades into a shade that you felt she needed to become." "I was not her only companion on those nights, for the coldness of death that you bring was there too, and it toyed with her, bringing pain but never release" he said as the emotion of the past overwhelmed him.

As the waves crashed against the rocks, breaking the silence that was surrounding him, he turned to the ocean once more. "A storm is building, I once believed that the calmness before a storm was a peaceful thing, but after those long nights waiting, I now see that the calm is the storm itself." In deep thought her continued; "For to wait for what is to come is always far greater than what arrives." "How I yearn for the time that the darkness was far from you, now it shall never let you go" he said as his voice regained composure.

At this time he drew an object from his pocket, clenching it tightly in his first, then slowly releasing until it sat exposed on his open palm. There laid a crucifix, one that was once proudly worn, now a symbol of loss; "perhaps that is what it truly is... loss" he thought to himself. "I understand the cycle of life; that death finds us all, this was not what has filled me with scorn; not the time in which it was inflicted, nor that it was to us, but for a so called loving and caring God, what you let us endure alone, toying with us with cures then relapses was too much to bare: his voice began to rise with conviction. "Your servants in the old covenants could not find the wisdom to guide us other than that what has been recycled through generations of disconnected men" he raged.

"I blamed you, this idea of a God that now sits on my hand, for all that caused me pain and suffering, yet now I realise, you were never the conductor of this. He paused and thought for a moment, then continued; "there is neither good nor evil that you commit, for you do not exist". "Even after all that I went through, the idea that your existence was nothing more than I fairy tale was a leap that I could not take" he moved his gaze to the storming ocean and said to God, fate, circumstance or anything that would listen "The thought that my sweet was at least in a better place gave me comfort and allowed me to continue to grieve, but that was a false comfort, just as a child craves their blanket to keep them safe, I… we crave you". "This is why those men of faith could not comfort me, for I realised then that no truth could come from a lie, he said as he continued to reflect on what seemed as a time long ago.

The storm was now raging, and the rain poured down. He for a last time looked down on that crucifix, and whispered. "Peace can only be found, when the truth is accepted", then he cast it into the ocean.
He still grieved her loss, and those nightmares dwelled with him until the end of his days.

Yet he never again allowed that comfort to dictate his life; for you are never truly free, until you let everything go.

title: I wrote my first short story today. I thought, screw it let's post it on reddit.

question: What does the passage say about the protagonist's religious beliefs?

answer: The protagonist rants in his grief for a loved one, blaming God for her death and for the pain she suffered leading up to it. As he continues to monologue, blame shifts to scorn and he announces - to God or the universe, or whatever might hear him - that he knows now God does not exist. Having been disappointed by the unsatisfying answers offered by religious figures, he has decided that religious faith is a comfort blanket for humanity, and he won't be free until he embraces this new truth.

question: What does the passage say about the ocean?

answer: The story begins with the man admiring the calm ocean. A storm rolls in and the ocean's increasing volatility reflects that of the grieving protagonist. In the end, he throws his crucifix into the ocean in a symbolic casting off of his former faith.

question: Summarize what the passage says about mountain ranges.

question: Summarize the devil's role in the story.


text:
The 2016 BIG TEN CONFERENCE MEN'S SOCCER TOURNAMENT was the 26th edition of the tournament. It determined the Big Ten Conference's automatic berth into the 2016 NCAA Division I Men's Soccer Championship. Maryland entered the tournament as the defending champions.

The top-seeded Maryland Terrapins won the Big Ten title for a third consecutive year, defeating the third-seed, Wisconsin in the championship match, 2–1. Maryland's D. J. Reeves opened the scoring 90 seconds into the match, while Wisconsin's Tom Barlow tied the game in the 12th minute. Shortly before halftime, Maryland's Sebastian Elney headed in a Jorge Calix cross to give Maryland the 2–1 lead, which would prove to be the final scoreline. It was the first time since Indiana accomplished the feat in 1996, that a team won three consecutive Big Ten tournaments.

The tournament for the first time in its history was not hosted by a university in the conference. Instead, the quarterfinal matches were played at the campus sites of the higher seed, while the semifinal and championship fixtures were played at the Grand Park Sports Complex in Westfield, Indiana, about 10 miles north of downtown Indianapolis.

Seeds

The top four teams participate in the tournament. The seeding is based on the program's conference record during the 2016 Big Ten Conference season.[1]

  Seed   School           Conference   Tiebreaker
  ------ ---------------- ------------ ------------
  1      Maryland         7–0–1
  2      Indiana          3–0–5
  3      Wisconsin        4–2–2
  4      Michigan State   4–3–1
  5      Penn State       4–4
  6      Ohio State       3–4–1        OSU 1–0[2]
  7      Northwestern     3–4–1        NWU 0–1
  8      Michigan         1–6–1
  9      Rutgers          0–6–2

Bracket

Results

First round

Quarterfinals

Semifinals

Final

[1]

[2]

title: 2016 Big Ten Men's Soccer Tournament

question: Who won the 2015 Big Ten Conference Men's Soccer Tournament?

answer: Maryland Terrapins.

question: Who won the 2014 Big Ten Conference Men's Soccer Tournament?

answer: Maryland Terrapins.

question: Who won the 1994 and 1995 Big Ten Conference Men's Soccer Tournaments?

answer: Indiana.

question: Who scored Maryland's goals?

answer: D. J. Reeves and Sebastian Elney.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The 2016 Big Ten Conference Men's Soccer Tournament was the 26th edition of the tournament. Maryland entered as defending champions and emerged victorious for the third year in a row, a feat previously accomplished by Indiana in 1996. The tournament wasn't hosted by a university in the conference for the first time. The quarter-final matches were played at the campus sites of the higher-seeded team while the semi-final and final matches were played at the Grand Park Sports Complex in Westfield, Indiana.


text:
JOHN GREENWOOD SR. (1727–1792) was an early American portrait painter, engraver and auctioneer.

Life

[Portrait of John Greenwood by Lemuel Francis Abbott circa 1785] Greenwood was born on 7 December 1727 in Boston, Massachusetts, and baptized on 10 December in the Old North Church, Boston.

His father died insolvent in 1742 and at about this time Greenwood apprenticed to Thomas Johnston, a Boston line engraver, sign painter, and japanner. According to his son's later account, Greenwood soon left Johnston's studio in order to pursue portraiture.[1] He left Boston in 1752 and traveled to the Dutch colony of Surinam in northeast South America. He stayed there for over five years, during which time he executed 115 portraits, before traveling again, this time to Europe, arriving in Amsterdam in May 1758. He settled there for a time to learn the art of making mezzotints, and was documented as a member of the Amsterdam Drawing Academy in 1758 by Jacob Otten Husly.[2] After leaving Amsterdam, Greenwood stayed in Paris, then London, where he eventually settled in 1764.

At the request of the Earl of Bute Greenwood made a journey, in July 1771, into Holland and France purchasing paintings; he afterwards visited the continent, buying up the collections of Count van Schulembourg and the Baron Steinberg. In 1776 he was occupying Ford's Rooms in the Haymarket as an art auctioneer.

One of Greenwood's best known works is _Sea Captains Carousing in Surinam_ (1755), a drunken scene featuring various prominent Rhode Island merchants, including Declaration of Independence signatory Stephen Hopkins, Governor Joseph Wanton, Admiral Esek Hopkins, and Governor Nicholas Cooke.

Greenwood died while on a visit to Margate, Kent on 16 September 1792, and is buried there. His wife, who survived him a few years, was buried at Chiswick, close to the tomb of Hogarth.

Family

Greenwood was the son of Samuel Greenwood (1690–1742), a Harvard graduate (1709) and merchant, and his second wife, Mary Charnock Devereux (c. 1709-1794).[3] In 1770, Greenwood wrote to his childhood friend, the painter John Singleton Copley, to commission a portrait of his mother Mary Charnock Devereux: ‘_I am very desirous of seeing the good lady’s face as she now appears, with old age creeping upon her._’ this portrait is now part of the international painting collection at the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa.[4] His eldest son, Charnock-Gladwin, died an officer in the army at Grenada, West Indies; the second, John, succeeded him in business; James returned to Boston; and the youngest, Captain Samuel Adam Greenwood, senior-assistant at the residency of Baroda, died at Cambray in 1810. His son John Greenwood, Jr. (1772–1815) is the subject of a portrait by William Beechey.[5]

A small half-length portrait of Greenwood in mezzotint, by William Pether, bearing an artist's pallet and brushes and an auctioneer's mallet, was afterwards published. A three-quarter length, by Lemuel Francis Abbott, and a miniature by Henry Edridge, which were in possession of his grandson, John Danforth Greenwood, ex-principal of Nelson College, New Zealand.

File:John Singleton Copley - Mrs Humphrey Devereux - Google Art Project.jpg|Mrs Devereux was the second wife of Samuel Greenwood and mother of John Greenwood; John S Copley 1770 File:Portrait of John Greenwood junior.jpg|Portrait of Greenwoods son John Greenwood, Jr. by William Beechey circa 1795 The Greenwood-Lee Family.jpg|The Greenwood-Lee Family including a self-portrait of the artist circa 1747

Greenwood's great great granddaughter is the New Zealand photographer Elizabeth Greenwood (1873–1961).

Selected works

File:John Greenwood - Sea Captains Carousing in Surinam.jpg|_Sea Captains Carousing in Surina_ (1755) File:RichardWaldron.jpg|_Portrait of Richard Waldron_ (1751) File:John Greenwood - Portrait of Mrs. Richard Waldron.png|_Portrait of Mrs. Richard Waldron_ (1751) File:Portret van een officier ter zee met een kustkaart en een verrekijker in de hand Rijksmuseum SK-A-4905.jpeg|_Portret van een officier ter zee met een kustkaart en een verrekijker in de hand_ (1760) File:John Greenwood - Portrait of Thomas Westbrook Waldron.png|_Portrait of Thomas Westbrook Waldron_ (1750) File:John Greenwood - Portrait of Mary Fitch Cabot.png|_Portrait of Mrs. Mary Fitch Cabot_ (circa 1745-1752) File:John Greenwood - John Richard Comyns of Hylands, Essex, with His Daughters - Google Art Project.jpg|_John Richard Comyns of Hylands, Essex, with His Daughters_ (1775) File:The seven sisters of Tottenham.jpg|_The seven sisters of Tottenham_ (1790) File:John Greenwood - Mrs. Henry Bromfield (Margaret Fayerweather) - 62.173 - Museum of Fine Arts.jpg|''Mrs. Henry Bromfield (Margaret Fayerweather) '' (1749) File:Elizabeth Fulford Welshman E-001034-20120309.jpg|_Portrait of Mrs. John Greenleaf_ (1749) File:Henry Flynt.jpg|_Portrait of Henry Flynt_ (between circa 1749 and circa 1750)

[1]

[2] Biography of John Greenwood in Roeland van Eynden and Adriaan van der Willigen's _Geschiedenis der Vaderlandsche Schilderkunst_, 1840, Vol. II, p. 202 (reprint 1979)

[3]

[4] https://collections.tepapa.govt.nz/object/41241

[5] https://collections.tepapa.govt.nz/object/37017

title: John Greenwood (artist)

question: Summarize the theme of John Greenwood's works.

question: Summarize the main events in Greenwood's career.

answer: John Greenwood first apprenticed to a Boston engraver, painter, and japanner called Thomas Johnson around 1742 before leaving to study portraiture. He then went to Surinam where he would spend five years making a total of 115 portraits. His next venture was to Europe, where he learned how to create mezzotints, and was a member of the Amsterdam Drawing Academy during his time living in the city. In 1758 moved to and settled in London after gallivanting about Europe.


text:
This is a short piece I wrote for an old lover when we were pretentious and wrote poems and shorter fiction for each other.  She was doing a writing course and asked me to complete one of the assignments she was doing, I think so she could know me better (which she never did).  The assignment was, in no more than 500 words, to describe a person without ever actually mentioning them or their physical features directly.  Description by circumstances, I suppose.

I'm starting to get back into writing so any objective comp and crit, positive or negative, very much welcome.

**His Office**

Slipping into the office was too simple: the secretary distracted by her call, everyone else staring at their screens as though the sheer intensity of their vision would cause their ears to excluded the nasal tone. But once the door clicked soft shut behind, the whole venture seemed like a mistake.

The desk was covered, drenched, as though some deity had descended to create some new ocean, fallen from pure white skies, allowing it to over run this great mahogany island.  Huge technical diagrams flooded like waterfalls over the edge to break upon the shattered rocks of discarded, crumpled sheets.  Tiny yellow squares were carried amongst the rapids, small-life rafts for the most important thoughts.

Coffee cups – ceramic, cardboard and plastic - rose from the sea of paper like once imperial lighthouses decaying amongst the rising tide.  Fast food wrappers were layered through the in-tray, the base necessities to keep working taking equal standing with the necessary work.

The sheer mass and weight of paper stalled me.

Time was racing, and my heart was keeping beat, so I began.  Naively, like some pulp-fiction sleuth I looked to the picture frames: the antique map of the Highlands, the panoramic photograph of Bannockburn, the signed 1978 Archie Gemmill replica shirt. Only as I let the picture of the two childhood Labradors fall back into place did I realise the ridiculousness of my search – the modular walls too thin, too transient to be a hiding place.

The over-flowing drawers could not be locked, but a fruitless place to search in such little time, filled with essential trivia. Old tickets, exhausted pens, discarded crosswords, even three archaic filo-faxes, aged and dog-eared.  I wasted time, but it was cathartic – every flight a standing ovation missed, every meeting another sports day victory avoided.

The shelf behind the great chair was filled only with emptiness and space, rising high above the undulating chaos.  The heavy, bronze executive toy, rocking backwards and forward under the weight of my footsteps, driving the horse onwards in a futile gallop.  The photograph, glass cracked down the centre, separating left from right, blossoming to a perfect signet-shaped rose-bud over the central face.  The unread Presbyterian bible, the inside cover inscribed with thick, untidy, letters.

More seconds wasted.  The pockets of coats unworn, the insides of blazers unused, the bin up-ended, scattering half-constructed flow-diagrams and marked-up press-releases into the worn plush of the carpet.  The empty drinks cabinet, the soil of the arbitrary desk plant, the recesses of the leather sofa, faintly oiled with subordinate fear.
I bit my lip to stop noises of frustration.  The room stank of sweat and industry and solitude; I was filled with its despair.  I breathed in and surrendered my suspicions.

On the desk, a red light winked at me from beneath the waves, a semi-submerged buoy at the edge of some shipping lane beside the desktop.  With resignation I pressed a button and an unknown voice filled me, at once, with half-forgotten hatred.

title: Writing Exercise - Tangential Description

question: What is the protagonist doing?

answer: Looking for something amongst a cluttered desk

question: How does the protagonist characterize the messy desk?

answer: Like an ocean of paper and clutter

question: What is the semi-submerged buoy with the red light at the edge of some shipping lane beside the desktop?

answer: The phone

question: What is the protagonist searching for?

answer: Doesn't say

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The protagonist sneaks into "his" office searching for something. They're overwhelmed by the mess characterizing the desk covered in paper and clutter as drenched, flooded with technical diagrams, rocks of discarded, crumpled sheets. They search through the drawers, the shelf behind the chair. They press the blinking red light of the telephone, like a semi-submerged buoy at the edge of some shipping lane beside the desktop.


text:
"Look, do you want this stuff or not?"

"I dunno. Most of it isn't useful. I could probably only sell about a third of it."

"So how much will you pay for that third?"

"Honestly, not much. Like I said, it's not very useful stuff."

"How much? $100?"

"No, that's way too much. You could probably get that much, or maybe even more, if you sold it yourself, but I can't pay you that much. I need to make a profit off of this."

"I don't wanna go through the hassle of selling it all myself, that's why I am talking to you. How about $85?"
"Still too high for me."

"$75?"

"Why are you so eager to get rid of this stuff Mike?"

"I don't have room for it, I just need it gone."

"Don't have room for it? Mike, you have been in prison for 5 years. You just got out yesterday. I'm surprised that you even have this much stuff. Where did it come from? Did you have it in storage all of that time?"

"Don't worry about where it came from, just tell me if you want it."

"Are you alright man?"

"No, I'm not alright, I'm getting really annoyed with you. Do you or do you not want to buy this pile of crap? I'll even lower it to $65 if you just say yes right now."

"I need to know where these things came from. I can't be caught with stolen goods and I don't want to see you go back to jail."

"No, you don't need to know where these things came from. People don't come to your pawn shop looking for beautiful antiques with rich histories. They come because the items are cheap and there are no questions asked. Where I got this stuff shouldn't matter to you. Besides, even if this stuff is stolen, it's not like that has ever been an issue for you before."

"Okay fine, you're right, I have sold stolen goods before. But that is not the issue right now. What I want to know is if YOU stole these things."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because Mike, you're my friend. We grew up together. We both worked hard and we left home together and got away from that dead-end life. Don't throw it all away now. You just spent 5 years in jail for stealing. If you get caught again you will be in for a lot longer. We fought so hard to get off the reservation because everywhere we looked all we saw were old men sitting around just waiting to die. If you go back to jail you will be doing the exact same thing, just sitting around waiting for your time to come. Look, I need to know, did you steal that stuff?"

"$60?"

"Did. You. Steal it?"

"$55?"

"Answer me Mike"

"$50? Come on man, I really need the cash. Like you said, we're friends, we grew up together. I really need your help right now. Can you help me? Friend?"

"You did steal it, didn't you?"

"$50 is a good deal man. Look at this stuff in here. Some of this will be sold by tomorrow, and for a good price. Look. You could sell this ring alone for $40. Like you said, I could sell this stuff myself and make over $100, but I'm coming to you instead. Help me out with this man. You will easily get your money back."

"I can't do it Mike. I can't sell things that you've stolen"

"You never had a problem with it before! What's changed?! Are you scared? You saw me go to jail and now you think it will happen to you?"

"If I sell things that you have stolen then I am supporting your theft, and I can't do that."

"What, are you scared that if I get caught I will rat on you for reduced time? I would NEVER do that, and you know it! I didn't rat on you last time, and I went away for five years man, five years! You know me, you know I wouldn't say anything! I need some money and I am asking you, my friend, for help and all you can think about is yourself. All you can think about is 'selling stolen goods'."

"That's not what I mean Mike."

"Yeah? Then tell me, what do you mean?"

"If I sell things that you have stolen then I am just encouraging you to steal more. We have been down this road before and we saw how it ended. You were in prison for 5 years. How long do you think it will be next time? I can't do it Mike. I can't help you throw your life away. I won't sell anything that you have stolen."

"Yeah? well you know what? Don't worry about it. Don't worry about helping me, FRIEND. You don't have to worry about helping me throw my life away, because I won't be bothering you any more."

"Don't be like that Mike. You know I want to help you, but I won't do it in this way."

"No, really, don't worry about it. I guess I'll see you around some time."

That was the last time I spoke with Mike. Three weeks later he was caught by the police and sent back to jail. I guess he stole from some bad people, because on his second day in prison he was stabbed and killed. I guess, in the end, he succeeded. He didn't just sit around waiting to die, and that was all he ever really wanted.

title: Not a writer, but I decided to try a prompt from youshouldwrite.com just for fun. Tell me what you think. ~900 words

question: Summarize everything relating to Mike's experience in jail.

answer: Mike had just served a 5 year prison sentence for stealing because he didn't rat on his friend for a plea deal. If he's caught again, he will be back in jail for even longer. His friend reasons that if he goes back to jail, he'll just be sitting around the last time. Mike eventually gets caught stealing, and goes back to jail. There he is stabbed to death, presumably by those related to the people he stole from.

question: Summarize the main conflict.

answer: The main conflict surrounds Mike trying to sell his friend, a pawn shop owner, his junk. The owner is concerned Mike stole it, as he had just been released from jail for stealing. Mike seems to need the money desperately. They go back and forth about whether Mike stole it and why the owner won't purchase the goods.

question: Summarize how the pawn shop owner feels about Mike.

answer: The pawn shop owner seems to care about Mike because they have been friends since their youth on a reservation. However, he doesn't support Mike's stealing and refuses to buy his stolen goods, as he doesn't want to encourage him in this way. This comes from a place of care because the owner believes he is preventing Mike from throwing his life away.

question: Summarize the pawn shop owner's reasoning in not buying Mike's items.

answer: The pawn shop owner has been Mike's friend since they grew up on a reservation, so he doesn't want to see him waste his life away like those on the reservation. He believes if he doesn't buy Mike's stolen goods, he won't be encouraging him to do bad things and will keep him out of jail. He refuses to let Mike throw his life away and go back to jail.

question: What does the story say about the effects of prison on mental health?


text:
The 5th Annual M.A.M.A. Awards was held on January 29, 2016, at Žalgiris Arena in Kaunas, Lithuania.

Nominees and winners

_Note: Winners are listed in bold._

Best Female Act

-   Alina Orlova
-   Girmantė
-   Jurga Šeduikytė
-   MONIKA LINKYTĖ
-   Monika Liu

Best Male Act

-   Edgaras Lubys
-   Jurgis Didžiulis
-   Markas Palubenka
-   Tomas Sinickis
-   VAIDAS BAUMILA

Breakthrough of the Year

-   ANTIKVARINIAI KAŠPIROVSKIO DANTYS
-   Deeper Upper
-   Garbanotas Bosistas
-   Monika Liu
-   Z On A

Best Pop Act

-   Jurga Šeduikytė
-   LEON SOMOV & JAZZU
-   Monika Linkytė
-   SEL
-   Vaidas Baumila

Best Rock Act

-   BIX
-   Rebelheart
-   Siela
-   Tomas Sinickis
-   Freaks On Floor

Best Alternative Act

-   Aistė Smilgevičiūtė & SKYLĖ
-   Alina Orlova
-   ba.
-   GARBANOTAS BOSISTAS
-   Vidas Bareikis

Best Electronic Act

-   BEISSOUL & EINIUS
-   Deep Shoq
-   GeraiGerai
-   Jazzyvile
-   Proper Heat

Best Hip Hop Act

-   Dee & Kamy
-   G&G Sindikatas
-   LILAS & INNOMINE
-   MC Mesijus & Münpauzn
-   Omerta

Best Band

-   Aistė Smilgevičiūtė & SKYLĖ
-   BIX
-   Garbanotas Bosistas
-   LEON SOMOV & JAZZU
-   SEL

Best Live Act

-   Antis
-   Džordana Butkutė
-   Gytis Paškevičius
-   MARIJONAS MIKUTAVIČIUS
-   SEL

Best Album

-   Tomas Sinickis – _Mylimas Vyras Ir Sūnus_
-   MC Mesijus & Münpauzn – _#UZGROTU_
-   Garbanotas Bosistas – _Above Us_
-   Leon Somov & Jazzu – _Istorijos_
-   Freaks On Floor – _Life_
-   Markas Palubenka – _Puzzleman_
-   BIX – _RAY_
-   G&G Sindikatas – _Revoliucijos Garso Takelis_
-   Aistė Smilgevičiūtė & SKYLĖ – _Vilko Vartai_
-   MONIKA LINKYTĖ – _WALK WITH ME_

Best Song

-   Lilas & Innomine – „Karina“
-   MONIKA LINKYTĖ – „PO DANGUM“
-   Leon Somov & Jazzu – „Po mano oda“
-   Monika Linkytė & Vaidas Baumila – „This Time“
-   Marijonas Mikutavičius – „Tu čia, tu čia“

Best Music Video

-   Markas Palubenka – „A Woman Of Stone“
-   Vaidas Baumila – „Ant Mašinos Stogo“
-   ANTIKVARINIAI KAŠPIROVSKIO DANTYS – „Į VENESUELĄ“
-   The Roop – „Not Too Late“
-   Deeper Upper – „Unity“

AGATA Most-Played Act

-   AISTĖ SMILGEVIČIŪTĖ & SKYLĖ

LATGA Most Popular Composer

-   LEON SOMOV

Award of Merit

-   NERIJA

title: 2015 M.A.M.A. awards

question: What does M.A.M.A. stand for?

answer: the article does not answer this question

question: Who won best female act at the 2015 M.A.M.A. Awards?

answer: Monika Linkytė

question: Who won best male act at the 2015 M.A.M.A. Awards?

answer: Validas Baumila

question: Who won breakthrough of the year at the 2015 M.A.M.A. Awards?

answer: Antikvariniai Kašpirovskio Dantys

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The 5th Annual M.A.M.A. Awards was held on January 29, 2016, at Žalgiris Arena in Kaunas, Lithuania.


text:
Katie Couric is a serious journalist. She was the first woman to anchor a network evening news broadcast without a male co-host. She has been a frontline star for all three major television networks. Her interview with Sarah Palin in 2008 may have singlehandedly changed the course of American history. She knows what she’s doing, is my point.

So how the hell do you explain this?

In what is as much a promotional video as it is an interview, Couric recently lobbed serial batterer Floyd Mayweather a series of pitches so fat it would make a Juggs Machine blush. After introducing the topic of his history of domestic battery by referring to “reduced misdemeanor charges” of an “alleged” assault against his “ex-girlfriend,” Couric allowed Mayweather to provide the following explanations for his actions without interjection:

  I’m black. I’m rich. And I’m outspoken. Those are three strikes right there. So, you know, when someone says, “I got pushed or hit,” I’m a fighter. So I may not really hit a person.’But guess what? I got to fight the case because I’m already guilty. They don’t know if I really did it or not. But since I’m a fighter, they’re gonna say, “You know what? He did it.”

  Did I kick, stomp and beat someone? No, that didn’t happen. I look in your face and say, “No, that didn’t happen.” Did I restrain a woman that was on drugs? Yes, I did. So if they say that’s domestic violence, then, you know what? I’m guilty. I’m guilty of restraining someone.

G/O Media may get a commission

/scene

Just a quick refresher on the undisputed facts of that evening. On the night in question, Mayweather showed up at the home of Josie Harris, the mother of three of his children, at 2:30 a.m. Mayweather, who was engaged to another woman and living apart from Harris at the time, proceeded to berate her about her relationship with NBA player C.J. Watson, the existence of which Mayweather had confirmed by going through texts on Harris’s cell phone without her permission. The situation became so heated that Harris had to call the police, who escorted Mayweather from the premises. Harris then went to sleep.

Mayweather returned, uninvited, at 5:00 a.m., with a member of his entourage in tow. According to both Harris and their son, Koraun, Mayweather then proceeded to viciously beat Harris. Their child tried to help his mother but Floyd’s accomplice blocked his path, forcing the 10 year old to flee the home to call the police. By the time the cops showed up, Mayweather had fled the scene with Harris’s cell phone, but a subsequent hospital examination confirmed that Harris had bruises, contusions, and a concussion from the blows that she sustained to the back of her head. Harris speculated he had targeted the back of her head to avoid leaving visible marks, an explanation that only gained credibility when Floyd later employed as a defense the claim that no photos existed of Harris’s injuries.

This almost certainly wasn’t the first time Mayweather had beaten Harris. He’d been arrested and charged with felony battery against her in 2004, after Mayweather had forcibly yanked her from his car in a nightclub parking lot. (Another attempt to restrain Harris, according to Mayweather.) When the police came to arrest Mayweather that night, Harris told them he had beaten her in the past, and she later confirmed six incidents to _USA Today_in a 2014 interview. Altogether, Mayweather’s history of violence extends to at least seven separate assaults against five different women that have led to arrest or citation. If Harris’s account of six incidents is correct, that would increase his total to at least 11 separate incidents. Mayweather’s most recent significant other, Shantel Jackson, has also sued Mayweather, alleging that he was physically abusive, that he held her at gun point, and that he threatened to leak nude photos of her online. (He had already posted the sonogram of a baby he claimed she aborted as well as unflattering home pictures.)

You’re supposed to know these things before you do an interview; I’m just a guy with a keyboard and even I understand that. Don’t take my word for it, though! Ask Rachel Nichols how a real journalist handles an interview with an unrepentant serial batterer like Floyd Mayweather. Ask Sarah Spain. Ask Richelle Carey.

This is really important. Sal Paolantonio was (rightfully) skewered for asking Ray Rice what his wife’s words of encouragement were before his first football game after he knocked her out in an elevator. Couric’s failure to question Mayweather is worse. Mayweather’s track record of violence is both significantly longer and better documented than that of Rice, and Mayweather was allowed to smear his victim to a national audience without any cross-examination as Couric’s smiles, nods, and compliments—even a hug—tacitly communicated to a national audience that Mayweather was at worst redeemed, and quite possibly the real victim.

Maybe that’s what it takes to land an interview with Mayweather these days. When Rachel Nichols pressed Mayweather on his history of domestic violence, he was so flustered that he walked out of the interview and cancelled all his remaining press appearances. No one was going to risk that happening before the Biggest Event in Boxing History™. It was inevitable that Mayweather was going to find someone to play the sympathetic ear, but it shouldn’t have been someone like Couric, a ground-breaking journalist who damn well knows better.

Goddamnit.

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

_Daniel Roberts (IronMikeGallego) is a longtime boxing fan and occasional contributor to Deadspin. He can be found on Twitter_ _@ironmikegallego_ _or at ironmikegallego@gmail.com._

question: Who was Katie Couric interviewing?

answer: Floyd Mayweather.

question: What had Mayweather been accused of?

answer: Assault and battery.

question: Who had Mayweather beaten?

answer: His ex-partner Harris.

question: How many accusations of beating has Mayweather been accused of?

answer: Up to eleven.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The author discusses Katie Couric's interview with Floyd Mayweather, and is critical of her not pressing him more on accusations of domestic violence. The author then lays out the facts of the case, presenting a compelling argument Mayweather is guilty. The article closes by celebrating journalists who challenge their interviewees who have committed wrongdoing.


text:
In this new age, technology was expanding at a rate that we could hardly comprehend. At the turn of a new decade, we ventured into space once more. By half a century, we had expanded beyond our Mother Earths loving arms, into the cold and foreboding expanse of our solar system. Luna Novis was prospering. Aries One was establishing a foothold on the blood-red sands of Mars. Eyes settled on asteroids, and on Jupiter. Wealths of knowledge and resources lay in wait. Our greed, and our ignorance was immeasurable. Humanity established new industries, and individuals rose into great power.

In all of our prosperity, and all of our progress, we could not free ourselves from the shackles of belief. There were those that opposed the progress. They warned against returning to the void beyond our world. They spoke out against our settlement of foreign worlds. We did not listen. We shunned these malcontent individuals. We blissfully exploited our home solar system for decades. We had no idea...

We had no idea how wrong we were, to ignore the warnings of our brothers. No idea at all.

At the turn of the century, progress began to stabilize. We established the first actual cities on Mars, and had spread across most of our Moon, as well as Ganymede and Titan. Our society was as united as it had ever been. War was a thing of the past. The last conflict had been settled early in the previous century. We grew complacent. We truly believed we had ascended beyond conflict entirely. We fancied ourselves a generation of scholars. We could not comprehend the magnitude of our folly. Nobody could predict that the reality that we had created for ourselves was so fragile.

In the second decade of this new century, we received a signal unlike any we had ever received, save for one, late in a previous century, for a mere moment. It was directed, sustained, and clear. We were being observed. We had always been observed. These forces beyond comprehension settled eyes on us. We expected tides of praise, of commendation for our progress towards peace, and prosperity. These hopes were shattered. These observers condemned us. They damned us for all of our faults. Our strife, our hatred of old. Our abuse of the mother that so thanklessly gave us life, and held us up. They spat upon our feeble veil of progress. We pleaded for answers, but all words fell upon unhearing ears.

One final transmission came to us. It came in the form of a single sentence. And that one, solitary sentence was delivered to all men, and all women, and all children. No eyes failed to see this message. They delivered this unto us, and brought down all that we worked so hard for.

"Your time has come to an end."

Our panic was like no panic before. We knew not how long we had. We knew not how we would prepare. We awoke a beast within ourselves that had long been slumbering, deep in our psyche. That brotherhood of prophets that had warned us, pleaded to us to forgo the stars, rose up once more. They heralded the end of us. They spoke down upon us and damned us, and gave us no forgiveness. We smote them from the soil, and the sky, and the void. We removed them utterly. We erupted into a broiling projection of desperation. We constructed machines of strife. Factories that lay dormant for generations were stirred. We forged the instruments of death once again.

For ten decades, we prepared. We were directed, and determined. We were furious, that some entity shall so easily dismiss everything we worked towards. We made ready, for generations. All of our progress was directed into a speartip, ready to be thrust into the heart of this beast that was now at our doorstep. We massed these vessels of our anger. All souls capable were enlisted, and all those prepared did lead. These armies of Man marched towards the gates of Oblivion, to meet their judgment.

And lo did these Men march, in their ships, and with their weapons in hand. They would meet this force that made itself their enemy, and would dash them from the very universe. And so meet them they did, these Judges, in the space between Giants, in the far reaches of our solar system. They met them with teeth bared, and weapons made ready. They borne unto them stars of solar fury, and lances of broiling hatred, and rattling flames of absolute wrath. They spilled upon this enemy their discontent. For days, they did do battle with these Judges, and for days, it would appear that they were to be victorious.

On the first and second day, they met them in space. They barraged those dark vessels, and those reaching tendrils of doom with nuclear detestation, and ionized beams of abhorrence. They smote them from the void with such ease. Surely these cannot be those who damned them a century ago. With great eagerness, they drove their campaign on, and such this enemy crashed at their gates without relent.

On the third and fourth day, they met them aboard their ships, and on the surface of moons, as this enemy began to gain foothold on our beloved solar system. They did battle furiously, bringing devastation upon this crepuscular foe in great volumes, fearing nothing as they did battle. Surely they can deliver their fellows from this great nightmare that seethed at them. With no amount of trepidation, they committed these acts of strife.

On the fifth and sixth day, they wove among the tumbling boulders between Mars and Jupiter. Surely this force of Mankinds greatest power shall not be defeated by this foreign foe, this tenebrous animal which thrusts itself against the spear of the warriors. Ships were dashed upon the rocks, and lives vanished among debris without a trace. This great nebulous foe was upon us. Our greatest warriors failed us utterly. Hulls of ships spun in the void of space, smoldering wrecks a testament to our arrogance. Blood of men was spread across a dozen worlds, and across millions of miles of void. Billions of eyes gazed into the sky, and saw the billowing shade that was their reckoning.

On the seventh day, our greatest downfall was upon us. Inky tendrils grasped out towards our worlds, first to Mars. As the dark tentacle reached this crimson planet, the sky flared red, burning away as the surface was cleansed of the lives that had called it home for nearly two centuries. Two billion lives cried out in fear, as their world was scoured by this great evil. This beast consumed the world utterly, sheathing it in a seething blackness for a day. When it passed on, the red planet was dead once more, its surface scorched and black as the force that had consumed it.

As the billowing shade approached humanities last bastion, our leaders cried and pleaded and begged to it for forgiveness. There was no reply. They threatened with nuclear fury, and once again, there was no reply. Finally they begged for an answer. What were they. Their Judge replied to them at last, solemnly "We are your hatred. We are the sins of your fathers."

In our final moments, we gaze upon our finality. We see with our own eyes the true price of our arrogance, and our ignorance, and our strife. All of our crimes against our fellow man led to this moment of great annihilation. As our sky burned away, and one by one our lives were torn from this plane, and as our mortal forms were extinguished, we truly know the cost of Sin. In our transience, we truly know retribution.

The Sins of our Fathers, are visited upon their Sons.

title: [SF] Sins of Our Fathers

question: Summarize everything relating to the progress of society.

answer: Technology was expanding at a hardly comprehensible rate. By half a century, society had expanded beyond Earth into the solar system. Some opposed the progress, warning against returning to the void beyond the earth. Progress began to stabilize at the turn of the century, when humanity established cities on Mars and spread across most of the Moon as well as Ganymede and Titan.

question: What does the story say about humanity's contact with aliens before the attack?

answer: In the second decade of the new century, humanity received a signal similar to one they'd received late in a previous century. The aliens had been observing them all along. The observers condemned humanity and their abuse of the mother earth.

question: What does the story say about space exploration?

answer: Humanity ventured into space once more at the turn of the new decade. By half a century, they expanded beyond Earth into the solar system, into Luna Novis and Aries One, and Mars. At the turn of the century, they established the first cities on Mars and had spread across the moon, as well as Ganymede and Titan.

question: What does the story say about the alien civilization's culture?