text:
Days in the life: The Beatles’ history

As well as the songs, albums, people, galleries and other features, we’ve also got the ultimate day-by-day guide to The Beatles’ career, from their births to the breakup and beyond.

[]

Here is a listing of all of the Beatles Bible’s historical blog posts written so far. It’s the most comprehensive online day-by-day guide to The Beatles’ lives and career with articles on their history from the 1920s to the present day – including live shows, record releases, recording sessions and much, much more. And there are plenty more to come, particularly regarding the solo years!

This first page covers the years 1926 to 1959. Subsequent pages contain entries for each decade, from the 1960s onwards.

January 1959

-   01: Live: Wilson Hall, Liverpool
-   24: Live: Woolton Village Club, Liverpool

August 1959

-   29: Live: Casbah Coffee Club, Liverpool

September 1959

-   05: Live: Casbah Coffee Club, Liverpool
-   12: Live: Casbah Coffee Club, Liverpool
-   19: Live: Casbah Coffee Club, Liverpool
-   26: Live: Casbah Coffee Club, Liverpool

October 1959

-   03: Live: Casbah Coffee Club, Liverpool
-   10: Live: Casbah Coffee Club, Liverpool
-   18: Live: TV Star Search audition
-   26: Live: Empire Theatre, Liverpool

November 1959

-   15: Live: Hippodrome, Manchester

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question: Who are the Beatles?

answer: It appears to be the name of performing entity, not a group of insects. It was not stated if the Beatles is just one person, a duet, or a group. Though the plural nature of the name suggests more than a single performer, it cannot be confirmed.

question: When did the Beatles perform?

answer: The earliest listed date in the article states 1959 and states the band performed until the 1960's. Though it is possible the band has been active before and after those years.

question: Who are the Beatles?

answer: The names of the individual or individual using the stage  or group name of Beatles was not given.

question: Who wrote this?

answer: The name of the individual writer is not given, but the article is attributed to the Beatles Bible.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The Beatles performed in various locations in England's Liverpool area (mostly in the Casbah Coffee Club) during the year of 1959.


split: train

text:
The air conditioning barely worked. The few wisps of cool air that seeped out from the tour bus’ ancient vents had to be trapped inside, lest its twenty or so passengers melt in the summer heat. The windows were shut tight; no breeze could get in or out.

About fifteen of them were chain smokers. Tobacco was the new opium in 21st century China. After the first hour, the air became dense and thick.

When the three hour ride finally came to an end, I could no longer see a yard in front of me. Mother picked me up and rushed to the front; I was still small enough for her to lift back then. The crisp air of the rural countryside hit me like a refreshing blast.

Before I knew it, the contents of my lunch were being emptied on the dirt in front of me.

******

Our apartment smelled different when I came home from elementary school that day. It was an old, familiar smell. A faint, musky scent. I took long, panting breaths. My mind felt at peace. I sat on the floor, unmoving, soaking in the beautiful aroma.

An hour or so passed, and I heard shouting down the hallway. My mother was angry. My father was on the defense. “Only two” He exclaimed “I found a pack in my old pocket. They were old. It won’t happen again”.

A half hour later, the yelling ceased. All the windows were open. My mother walked back and forth, beating the air with a feather fan.

******

The day after my eighteenth birthday, I bought a pack of Marlboro’s, and a blue plastic lighter. Curiosity, and just because I could. My gaze stayed glued to the ground as I handed the clerk my I.D. It had a simple design. A red top with an egg white base, with “filter cigarettes” written neatly across the center. I liked the aesthetic. It looked nice in my pocket.

It was never opened. I hid it in a secret compartment in my suitcase, and brought it to college. I’ll save it for a special occasion. Nicotine is supposed to be a relaxant, right? Maybe the night before a stressful test. Or as a cure for a bout of depression.

******

Every drive away from my town feels as miserable as the first. The peculiar feeling of leaving the place I call home to sleep somewhere else never quite fades. Maybe I should consider myself lucky for having a place to sleep at all. Look at all these homeless people, wouldn’t they love to trade places with you? I take a walk down the nighttime Seattle streets, for once hoping to see a few of the less fortunate.

I come across a group, huddled under a storefront porch. But seeing their suffering does nothing to curb my own. Homelessness, not in a financial sense, but an emotional sense, could be used to describe my state of mind. Did I come back to visit, or to say goodbye one final time? Some things are harder to let go of than others.

Slowly, reluctantly, I take the pack out of my pocket. Its red gleam remains unfaded, and its crisp packaging beckons to be opened. The plastic wrap comes off easily; It was designed to be torn apart by eager fingers.

Lighting the cig was confusing at first, but I got it going after a minute. The aroma brought back an incredible flood of memories. My grandparents. All of my aunts and uncles. My dad. No one in my family had escaped its alluring scent.

I was lost. My mind was intoxicated. They say some people have genes that make them more susceptible to addiction. That exposure to second-hand smoke isn’t much different than first hand smoke. These were fleeting thoughts, which came and went without me paying them much heed.

The world began to calm down. My walk became steadier, slower. Any worries I had were dissipating. I closed my eyes with each drag, holding the wonderful smoke in my lungs.

Before I knew it, I was on my second. And my third. And my fourth. My breaths were too long; I was inexperienced. I got ashes all over my face and hands, and I coughed extensively. It didn’t matter; it was all bliss.

I was standing still, no longer even walking. There was a familiar haze in front of me; my mind drifted back to the bus ride. “This is mine, and mine alone” I thought triumphantly. No one else could force me to breathe their smoke. I made my own, with my lungs, my money, my life.

I opened the pack, and took out another. As I flicked the lighter, a thought occurred to me. I didn’t have to do it. At this moment, there was no overwhelming force compelling to smoke another cigarette.

But that might not be true a year, or a month, or even a week down the line. When my father found the lingering pack in his pocket, was his choice as clear as mine is now?

Was I expressing my newfound independence, or giving it up?

I threw whole case into a nearby trashcan. The walk away felt heavy, weighted by a mix of desire and pride. To turn around and pick it up again would be so easy. The white and red casing was calling to me, carrying innards that were still fresh and awaiting consumption.

I trudged on.

*****

title: Haze

question: What is meant by "Tobacco was the new opium in 21st century China"?

answer: It seems to mean that tobacco is now very popular.

question: Why is the narrator's mother angry at their father in the second section?

answer: The father had been smoking cigarettes in their apartment.

question: What is the moral of the story?

answer: The moral of the story seems to be about finding the power to break the cycles before they begin.

question: What's the point of the narrator saving the cigarettes for a special occasion?

answer: The narrator wants to save them for a time when they are useful instead of using them up.

question: What does the narrator keep smoking the cigarettes on their walk?

answer: It seems that they just seemed to enjoy the action of smoking.

question: How might the narrator feel towards cigarettes if their family members hadn't smoked them?

answer: They probably wouldn't have been as drawn towards them.


text:
[Book II of _Saudades da Terra_ dedicated to Madeira (1968 edition)]

SAUDADES DA TERRA is a manuscript that was published by father Gaspar Frutuoso. It forms a reference work on the knowledge of Macaronesia in the late 16th century.

The manuscript was written between 1586 and 1590,[1] divided into two volumes, based on the author's observations which makes a detailed description of the archipelagos of the Azores, Madeira and the Canary Islands. It also has multiple references on Cape Verde and other Atlantc regions.

It finishes a most important repository on information about geography, history, life usage of clothes, genealogy, toponym, fauna and flora of the mid-Atlantic archipelago before the 17th century, in which closes by the author with a personality of a Renaissance typical humanist: encyclopedic, literary, artistic and music, observed natural phenomenon, pre-occupied with alchemic experimentations and speculating inside the dominions of geology, biology, mineralogy and petrography.

The book contains each of the island chain, the three features one or more islands of the Azores, one was a poem, including:

-   Book I - Cape Verde and the Canary Islands
-   Book II - Madeira
-   Book III - Azores: Santa Maria
-   Book IV - Azores: São Miguel;
-   Book V - Poem - with fictional characters “Verdade” and “Gama” - typically renaissance persons, in pastoral style - a story of two friends who was forced to live in a house for a long time.
-   Book VI - Azores: Terceira, Faial, Pico, Flores, Graciosa and S. Jorge.

The work was completed with a last volume, titled _Saudades do Céu_, a philosophical-theological dissertation during the Azorean crisis during the Portuguese Succession Crisis of 1580.

Gaspar Frutuoso apparently intended to publish his work, since it was clear that the plight of the manuscript with additional amendments made with his fist. For reasons which are unknown, it may be linked to the Spanish (or Castilian) occupation during the Philippine Dynasty, he did not, adding it to a library of Colégio dos Jesuítas de Ponta Delgada (Ponta Delgada Jesuit College), which remained until 1760 when the Jesuits were expelled from Portugal. The manuscript changed hands, in the 1920s, in a context of commemorations of the Tri-Centenary of the Birth of Gaspar Frutuoso in 1922, owned by the Praia e Monforte family, which had prevented access to the work, unfeasible for an chance for its publication. Later on, it was donated by the General Board of Ponta Delgada and was added to Ponta Delgada Public Library and Archives (also known as the Azorean Public Library and Archives) where it is founded today.

The first part of the book which came to light was Book III in 1873, with thirty notes by Álvaro Rodrigues de Azevedo, and a historic synthesis written by the Portuguese Illustrated Universal Dictionary by Fernandes Costa.. It was followed by a genealogical part of Book IV, published in 1876 by an initiative of Francisco Maria Supico and José Pedro de Jesus Cardoso. In the 1920s, it was inviable the integral publication of the work was published in two relative volumes on the islands of São Miguel and Santa Maria, for which complete copies were available. The Book III edition about Santa Maria was in charge of Manuel Monteiro Velho Arruda. The same copy was taken and later published an edition the first book, based on a manuscript copy that was founded in the Ponta Delgada Public Library and Archives[2]

It has different parcel editions of _Saudades da Terra_ with added editions, added to the Ponta Delgada Cultural Institute in 1966.

An edition was made in 1968 in Ponta Delgada.

[1] Rodrigues, Rodrigo. “Notícia biográfica do Dr. Gaspar Frutuoso”. In _Saudades da Terra_, Livro I, p. XXXIX.

[2] Rodrigues, João Bernardo de Oliveira. “Notícia Biográfica do Dr. Manuel Monteiro Velho Arruda”. Ponta Delgada, Tipografia do Diário dos Açores, 1960 [separate from the _Azorean Archives_ Volume XV(15) (1959), Ponta Delgada].

title: Saudades da Terra

question: When was the Saudades da Terra written?

answer: The manuscript was written between 1586 and 1590.

question: What is the manuscript about?

answer: The manuscript gives a detailed description of the the archipelagos of the Azores, Madeira, and the Canary Islands, including the geography, history, genealogy, toponym, and fauna and flora.

question: What is the last volume of the manuscript about?

answer: The last volume, "Saudades do Céu", is a philosophical-theological dissertation  during the Azorean crisis during the Portuguese Succession Crisis of 1580.

question: Who published the manuscript?

answer: The manuscript was published by Gaspar Frutuoso.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This article is about the Saudades da Terra, a multi-volume manuscript published by Gaspar Frutuoso. It was written between 1586 and 1590, and gives a detailed description of the archipelagos of the Azores, Madeira and the Canary Islands, including their geography, history, genealogy, and fauna and flora.


text:
After a couple of so-so albums in 2009’s _Sounds of the Universe_ and _Delta Machine_ four years later, it would have been easy to look at Depeche Mode as a spent creative force, despite the fact that they’re the last of their 80s contemporaries standing, are managing to keep their artistic integrity intact, and more importantly, have not become U2.

But there was something missing from those albums, both produced by Ben Hillier, and despite working well on their first collaboration, 2005’s _Playing The Angel_, it was the first time in their career where they’d misfired twice in a row. Neither were necessarily bad records, but they were missing that spark you’d become accustomed to - they sounded tired.

Bearing in mind that musically Depeche Mode is a solo act with Martin Gore taking control of the music, he hasn’t had a producer with electronic music credentials alongside him since working with Mark Bell on 2001’s _Exciter_. This makes the decision to work with James Ford a tantalising one.

Opening track "Backwards" is a swaggering, blues-influenced rock song with dramatic piano which sets the lyrical tone early. The first words sung - “We are not bigots, we have not evolved / we have no respect, we have lost control” (closing track "Fail" follows the same path: "Our consciences bankrupt: we're fucked") - makes it clear that despite never being ones for sweetness and light over the past four decades, Depeche Mode have put their usual subject matters (pain, misery, religion, death and sex) to one side to record a state of the world address. With U2 postponing their forthcoming album so they can too produce something politically of the now, they’re the first major act to reflect on the seismic shifts that have occurred over the past year, and it makes for grim listening. The repeated coda of the opening track - “We feel nothing inside” - is particularly effective, as are the waves of dirty synths . It's a great way to set the scene.

Lead single "Where’s the Revolution" continues the agenda (“Who’s making your decisions? / You and your religions? / Your government, your countries / you patriotic junkies”) and musically follows in the same vein as the opener, again with prominent synth work and the kind of doomy, downward key changes which have underpinned some of their finest work. The heavy distortion on "Scum", is the 'Mode at their angriest, Gahan spitting “Pull the trigger” as the grit filled beats indicate Ford’s influence at its most strongest.

"You Move" also shows how Ford’s musical stylings have been used to augment, rather than overshadow their music. The analogue synth fizzes while Gahan groans “I like the way you move for me tonight", making it their most shag-hungry moment since _SOFAD_ highlight "Rush". They haven’t sounded this sleazy for a long time, and despite them being in their mid-fifties, it isn’t creepy - it just genuinely sounds like someone's going to get fucked.

The space rock-isms of "Cover Me" provide the album’s most anthemic moment, and one of a select fewwhere political doom-mongering is put to one side. Gahan’s heartfelt yearning of “Way up here with the Northern Lights / beyond these broken bars / I pictured us in another life / Where we’re all superstars” is an unexpected moment of positivity, while the Eno-like atmospherics and reverbed slide guitars of the slow build gradually make room for two minutes of techno patterns and dramatic closing key changes. It's the most vital thing they've recorded in years.

Those wanting the BIG Mode track in the vein of "Enjoy the Silence", "It's No Good" or "Barrel of a Gun" will quickly fall under the spell of "So Much Love", the big pop thrill of the album. Similar to "Peace" from _SOTU_, or _Delta Machine_’s "Soft Touch/Raw Nerve" - great songs held back by thin production - here Ford has ripped everything open. Everything sounds massive; the angst, the fizzing krautrocky electro beats, the huge and very Martin Gore-esque doom-riff and Gahan (vocally on fire throughout the album) letting rip with one of his finest baritone performances.

Putting Ford’s expertise as a producer to one side, his work alongside Jas Shaw in Simian Mobile Disco is something which has very much informed the musical landscape of _Spirit_. SMD’s more esoteric works, such as the minimal techno of _Delicacies_, or the more ambient works on 2014’s _Whorl,_ live within these tracks. This, alongside Gore’s techno collaboration with original Depeche Mode member Vince Clarke - the excellent _VCMG_ album from 2012 - has culminated in a new found fervour on _Spirit_ which wasn’t there on their two previous albums. It's their best since 1993’s _Songs of Faith and Devotion_.

question: What does the text say about Depeche Mode's previous two albums?

answer: Depeche Mode's previous two albums were Sounds of the Universe, which was released in 2009, and Delta Machine, which was released in 2013. The author describes the albums as so-so. They say that there was something missing from the albums, which were both produced by Ben Hillier, and they sounded tired.


text:
Charlie gazed at the rain outside. He saw advertisements for glasses and movies, and many other things to entertain the human mind. He was surrounded by many like him, either eager or calm to get to where they wanted to be. He could not count the amount of people with ear phones in there ears or the girls wearing hipster like clothes. None of it mattered, for it only got in the way of his view: The rain.

People argued on this bus ride. People bobbed their heads to tunes on this bus ride. But Charlie alone wished to be different.

Not unique.

Not special.

Not important.

Just different.

A calm song took him away. A beautiful girl made him sigh, and work was 20 minutes away.

title: Through the bus window...

question: Why is Charlie on a bus?

answer: Charlie is on a bus because it's raining outside and he's on his way to work.


text:
The ASHLEY, DREW AND NORTHERN RAILWAY was a Class III railroad operating 40.7 miles of track between Monticello and Crossett, Arkansas. The railroad operated from 1912 until 1996.

History

In 1905, the Crossett Lumber Company of Crossett, Arkansas, started its own rail line, the Crossett Railway, a 10-mile rail line that largely transported logs and lumber.[1] In 1912, the Crossett Railway was sold to the newly created Crossett, Monticello & Northern Railroad, which had planned to build a line from Crossett north to Monticello, Arkansas.

The Ashley, Drew and Northern was incorporated on August 8, 1912, to build a railroad from Cremer to Monticello, Arkansas.[2] The AD&N also purchased the Crossett, Monticello & Northern Railway at the same time and opened the line up to Monticello in July 1913. From 1914 until 1920, the Ashley, Drew and Northern was leased and operated by the Arkansas, Louisiana and Gulf Railway.[3]

The Georgia-Pacific Corporation acquired control of the AD&N and the Crossett Lumber Company on July 31, 1963.[4][5]

By the 1980s and 1990s, traffic included lumber, plywood, paper products and chemicals.[6] The railroad's headquarters office and enginehouse both were located in Crossett.[7]

Abandonment

In early 1991, Georgia-Pacific formed the Arkansas, Louisiana and Mississippi Railroad subsidiary to purchase the rail line by the same name, whose owners had been planning to abandon it.[8] Georgia-Pacific soon began transferring southbound traffic to the AL&M's nearby tracks because the AD&N's track was steeper and more expensive to maintain.[9]

On June 25, 1995, Georgia-Pacific announced that the AD&N no longer had sufficient work to justify keeping the line open.[10] On August 15, 1995, Georgia-Pacific petitioned the Interstate Commerce Commission to abandon 35 miles of the AD&N from Monticello to Whitlow Junction, Arkansas.[11] The ICC granted the request to abandon the Ashley, Drew and Northern, and the AD&N made its final run on June 29, 1996.[12] (The railroad's remaining 5.7 miles of track, between Whitlow Junction and Crossett was sold on June 30, 1996 to Georgia-Pacific-owned sister railroad Fordyce and Princeton Railroad, which had long been operating on the segment between Crossett and Whitlow Junction through trackage rights.)

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

title: Ashley, Drew and Northern Railway

question: When was the Ashley, Drew, and Northern Railway opened?

answer: It was incorporated on August 8, 1912.

question: Where is the railway located?

answer: It runs between Monticello and Crossett, Arkansas, in the United States.

question: Why was the railway closed?

answer: The railway was closed because it no longer had sufficient work to justify keeping the line open.

question: How long is the railway?

answer: The railway was 40.7 miles long.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The Ashley, Drew and Northern Railway was a 40.7 mile long railway track that ran between Monticello and Crossett, Arkansas, United States. The railroad was operational from 1912 to 1996.


text:
[]

Posted April 7, 2016 10:35 am

[Police tape]

 Police executing a warrant said they discovered child pornography and sex slaves in a Detroit home. File / Global News

Police in the Detroit area made a horrific discovery while executing a search warrant related to an identity theft investigation when they found a woman chained to a stripper’s pole, with a padlock around her neck.

The 25-year-old woman told police she was a sex slave along with three other women, the _Detroit News _reports citing federal court documents. Police arrested the owner of the home 31-year-old Ryon Travis.

[graphiq id=”c3AiyYR5RxH” title=”Sex Trafficking Grades Per State” width=”640″ height=”507″ url=”https://w.graphiq.com/w/c3AiyYR5RxH” link=”https://www.graphiq.com/wlp/c3AiyYR5RxH” link_text=”Sex Trafficking Grades Per State | Graphiq”]

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During the search of the home police also found a cellphone with sexually explicit images involving young children in what they called a “house of horrors.”

_The Washington Post_ obtained audio of a March 23 detention hearing where Assistant U.S. Attorney Sara Woodard said Ryon had posted online advertisements claiming he had four girls for sale.

Trending Stories

“[The woman] said that if she or the other women refused to dance or perform sex acts, the defendant would be violent with them, and that he would hit them with a closed fist, kick them or push them down,” Woodard said according to _the Post._

The case began March 2, when police in the Detroit metropolitan area executed a search warrant at Ryon’s two-storey home in the city’s west side for fraud related to an identity theft case involving “money over $50,000,” according to court filings.

READ MORE: 47 CHARGED WITH 135 OFFENCES IN CANADA-WIDE HUMAN

_The Detroit News_ reports officers discovered two cellphones on a living room table that contained “images of child pornography.” Authorities allege some of those images depict a man engaged in a sex act with a “very young” girl lying on a distinctive blue and white sheet seen on a bed at Travis’ house.

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During a second search conducted March 21, authorities found a stripper pole in the living room and a woman chained at the neck with a padlock, according to court filings.

Authorities charged Travis with several offences including the producing, transporting and possessing child pornography, fraud, and sex trafficking.

Travis made a court appearance April 4, during which he pleaded not guilty to the charges, which could amount to a maximum sentence of 30 years in prison.

According to a 2012 report from the International Labour Organization, three out of every 1,000 people worldwide are in forced labour, amounting to nearly 21 million people.  Of those, 4.5 million are victims of forced sexual exploitation, by individuals or enterprises.

© 2016 Global News, a division of Corus Entertainment Inc.

question: What would have happened if police in the Detroit area did not make this horrific discovery?

answer: If police in the Detroit area did not make this horrific discovery, then the woman they found may have been critically injured or dead.

question: What role do you think the International Labor Organization plays in sex trafficking?

answer: The International Labor Organizations plays an important role in collecting and presenting factual data about sex trafficking in different regions of the world.


text:
The cabin had a musty, unused smell to it. It had been a couple of years since anyone had been here, so he went around and opened up all the doors and windows and just let the wind carry out the emptiness while he swept and dusted. It wasn’t too long, though, before he heard a car door out front.
“Who could that be?” he thought. His wife and son weren’t due until tomorrow. Jenny and her family weren’t supposed to be there until the day after. Puzzled, he frowned to himself before going to check, but he stopped and smiled again as soon as he turned around. There, leaning against the doorpost, was Jenny, looking the same as she always did with her long red hair hanging down her back, blue eyes, and a gentle, soft smile on her lips.
“Hey,” he said quietly. She walked toward him and said, “Hey,” before giving him a hug. They parted and he shook his head, marveling at the fact that although it had been almost two years since they had seen each other, there was no unfamiliarity there, no sense of distance grown as often happens. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow night,” he said. “I decided to come early to air the place out.” She looked around the cabin and smiled at him. “Looks like you beat me to it.”
The day finished with them cleaning out the cabin, top to bottom. As often happens when two old friends find themselves doing some menial chores together, they wound up spending most of the time laughing at each other. Old jokes, new jokes, stories about people they knew now, and tales about people they knew back in the day. Just… enjoying the company of a person they didn’t have to hide anything from and have no reason to impress. As the afternoon came and went, and the evening turned to dusk, they cracked open the beer he’d brought and sat down on the porch to watch the sun sink behind the trees. A quiet peace drifted over them in the stillness of an evening free of demand.
Night fell and they decided to go inside and light a lamp or two so they could spend the rest of the evening playing cards at the kitchen table, they way they used to. As they sat and played, a peaceful quiet lingered with them and they didn’t disturb it with unnecessary chatter. After all, why should two people who know each other more intimately than most married couples ever do need to speak to feel comfortable around each other? As they sat there in the comfortable quiet, his mind began to drift across his memories, and across to her, thinking about all the things they had shared over almost thirty years of friendship. Growing up together, grade school, her boyfriends, his girlfriends, the breakups and the weddings, all of it touched his mind as they played. He realized, with a small amount of surprise, that almost all of his happy memories were ones he shared with her.
There had never been a relationship between them, never any hint that things should be other than what they were, and though they both acknowledged that it was a bit of an oddity whenever other people pointed it out, they had never thought much of it on their own. He looked over at her, picking up a card from the table, her hair and face glowing in the soft, yellow lamplight, and he couldn’t help but think of the only time the idea had presented itself that there could be more to their friendship than simply being friends.
They had gone camping, just the two of them, after her college sweetheart had left her and she wanted to get away, just get away from everything and everyone that reminded her of him. So they went out to the woods and just let it all go. That night, he remembered they had just looked across the fire at each other, her face and hair glowing then so much like they were glowing now, and he had thought to himself that she was beautiful. Not beautiful the way he told other people she was beautiful, but beautiful to him, in a much more personal and intimate way than he had known. He had thought, then, that he might be in love with her, and as she raised her eyes to meet his, he had known that the thought he saw in her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes glowing in the firelight, was the same as his. But the moment passed without record, and soon enough their hearts had gone their separate ways again.
He realized it was his turn to play and looked over at her, at this beautiful, amazing woman he had somehow spent his whole life with, and found her looking at him. A moment passed between them that seemed to last far longer than a heartbeat before her eyes left his again, but that was all it took, just one moment, for both of them to realize. She reached for another card, distractedly, and as she reached for it, he reached for her, and gently, oh so gently, placed his hand on hers. She lifted her gaze to meet his once again, and this time there was no hiding the question in her eyes, the desperate longing needing an answer. A sad smile drew across his face and, heart breaking oh so gently, he shook his head, just a tiny motion back and forth. His hand left hers, and she drew her card.
They played into the night, still holding onto that quiet comfort, but he wondered now if his life would feel the same to him, now that it had been acknowledged. It seemed a lonely life, knowing that the woman you had married wasn’t the one you should have, that the one you loved wasn’t the one waiting at home for you.
They finished their game and said goodnight. He changed out of his clothes and into his pajamas, and lay down in bed before he let it take him. They knew, both of them, that it was too late. It wasn’t a regret, or even a chance untaken. It was just a choice they had never made, and nothing more. There was a gentle sadness in him, a vast wondering question in his heart. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he heard the door open behind him in the dark. Soft footsteps crossed the floor, and his blanket lifted. Rolling over, he put his arms around her and pulled her close, holding her tightly as tears dropped silently onto his pillow.

title: The Cabin

question: Summarise what the story says about the relationship between Jenny and the protagonist.

answer: The protagonist and Jenny go way back to their childhood. Growing up, Jenny and the protagonist were very close friends who attended the same schools but never had a romantic relationship despite their closeness. When Jenny's relationship with her college boyfriend went underway, he provided a shoulder for her to cry on. They both shared fond memories of each other during their brief reunion clearing out the cabin; it seemed almost impossible the two didn't have a romantic past. It appears that the protagonist did have feelings for her when they were younger, which he didn't act on, and somehow, those same feelings resurfaced in later life. Unfortunately, the two of them weren't meant to be because the protagonist was married with kids. A sense of sadness and regret and "what ifs" washed over him after his reunion with Jenny, wondering if he ever made a move earlier; she might be his.


text:
There he was at the bank that day, someone else’s blood soaking into his clothing and on his face a look of absolute shock. It’s hard to believe that only a few minutes ago, it was a normal day for Jason Grayson. Even his past years of military training and experience could not have prepared him for a situation like this./////
	For Jason, the day started out like any other. He showered, went for a walk, ate breakfast and then left his house to run errands before a day of work.  Normally, the days seemed to blend together in J’s mind. At this point in his life he did not have many friends or a social out goings other than at his dead end hotel desk job that did not pay well. Regardless of not having many friends Jason still had an enormous amount of care for people and was always very empathetic, even towards complete strangers. Jason spent much of his downtime in public places, observing people. He wondered what their lives were like and how they viewed the world around them in contrast to how he viewed it.//////
	His unusual care and concern for others made Grayson different than his fellow officers and superiors during his time in the military.  He joined when he was eighteen, with no other goals but to help his fellow Americans and protect them from what they called terrorists. After spending nearly two and a half years in military training, Jason was experienced in both hand to hand and combat with weapons.  Despite his extensive training he found that the military was not a place for someone like him after he went on his first real mission.////
	He and his platoon were given orders to infiltrate a terrorist organization in southern Iraq with no explanation of why they were doing so, other than it being a group of “terrorists”. Jason always wondered why the terrorist’s hatred toward Americans was so much that they would commit the terrible act of violence on 9/11 that killed nearly three thousand people and began the war which he fought in. It was not until after his first and only mission that he really began to research the motivation for terrorist’s actions.////
	When they arrived at the enemy’s camp, Grayson had doubts swirling through his head that what his superiors were telling him to do was moral. He entered the camp and found that there were only fifteen people there, nearly half of which were women and children. The platoon was given orders to “Take out the terrorists” and place any women and children in military custody. As Jason stormed the camp alongside a group of thirty men, he saw people being shot down without good reason. He was sickened by the sight and had to fall back behind because he realized there was no way he could take another man’s life unless he knew for a fact that they were a threat to his own or that of another innocent person. When the slaughter ended the only sound that remained was the crying of young children and the echo of gunshots ringing in the distance. At this time Jason ran forward and shouted at his fellow soldiers saying “How could you do this?! Did not those men have the same face that you do? How do you know that they meant to cause harm?!  Even if they did why do you think they intended to do so in the first place?!!” The lieutenant who was wiping blood off the barrel of his gun was the only one with a reply. He said “These men were terrorists. They deserved every bit of what they had coming.” Jason was speechless for a few seconds before saying to his superior officer, “I do not care what you say, and I will die before I kill a man without knowing for certain that they intend to cause me or the people in my country harm.” This made the lieutenant furious, he walked up to Jason, got right up in his face and shouted for all the platoon to hear, “Misconduct!!!”////
	The very next day the lieutenant began making arrangements to have Jason discharged from the military for his unwillingness to kill. It was only a few weeks before he was sent home and stripped of his military officer ranking. This was fine with Grayson. He went back home and began to study the origins of terrorist hate towards Americans. What he discovered was that radical Islamists hate America mainly because of the government’s tendency to meddle in foreign affairs and that the US and Iraq had many conflicts pre 9/11. This insight into the so called enemy’s perspective made him realize that conflicts like the one between US and Iraq do not just start out of nowhere, that there is always a reason when seemingly senseless violence occurs./////
	This memory was what ran through Jason’s mind as he stood in the bank that day, looking at the covered up face of the robber who had just taken another man’s life for no apparent reason other than to prove a point, he was not to be messed with. As everyone in the bank screamed and cried in sheer terror, Grayson just stood there thinking about the robber and wondering what would make the man commit such a terrible and selfish deed besides the obvious desire for money. He still believed even though the violence appeared to be completely senseless, that there was a deep seeded reason for the burglar’s actions which he ultimately had no control over.////
	The robber walked further into the bank with a gun in each hand, shouting “Give me money or someone else will be killed!” By this time everyone had stopped screaming but the muffled sound they made trying to contain their crying was still heard. Jason sat on the floor next to the dead man. His clothes now stained with blood that was not his own. He could no longer see the gunman from the floor but could hear his footsteps getting closer to the bank teller who was frantically throwing money into a sack.////
	 The next thing that the burglar said made everyone in the rooms’ heart sink deep down into their stomachs. “This isn’t enough money! I want fifty thousand dollars in my hand within the next minute or I start unloading these bullets into everyone in the building!” It was then that Jason stood up; he knew that he would be dead anyways if he did not do something. As soon as he stood, the robber’s gun pointed directly at his head. He shouted, “Please! Please don’t shoot! I just want to help you get your money! I do not want anyone else to die and I know that you don’t want that either, you just want your money, right?” The robber replied, asking “Oh yeah? And how are you going to help me get my money? Unless you have fifty grand in your pocket, you are going to die.” Jason stood there scared out of his mind but he watched as another brave man stood up behind the robber and hit him over the head with his briefcase. The robber turned around immediately but Jason leaped forward at the same time tackling and disarming him. Jason kicked one of the guns across the room but took the other into his hand and placed the barrel right between the man’s eyes. In the heat of the moment Jason thought about killing the man. He said to him “You deserve this! You’re scum! You took an innocent man’s life today and now I’ll take the life of a guilty man.” Just as Jason was about to pull the trigger He reached down and removed the robbers mask only to find a scared young man, with a face that looked just like his own.

title: Working title [RF]

question: What does the story say about Jason Grayson?

answer: Jason Grayson was not prepared for what had happened that day. Despite his extensive training in the military, he felt like he was still not ready to face the robbers in the bank. He attacks one of the robbers but feels guilty when he realizes he does not want to kill this man.

question: What does the story say about terrorism?

question: What does the story say about winning the war?

question: What does the story say about Jason and the robber?

answer: Jason is in the bank when a group of robbers holds the place hostage. He attacks one of the robbers and in the heat of the moment wants to kill him. However, after removing the robber's mask and seeing how frightened he is, he realizes he does not want to do this.


text:
It was a cold, dark night…

I lay in the corner of the street, my head in a puddle, a smell of what can only be described as death circling my very presence. I had lost count of how many days it had been, of how many faces I’ve seen pass me, of how many feet I’ve watched shuffle aside, trying their hardest to avoid my very existence. Of how many eyes had looked at me, and burnt hatred so deep it became almost intolerable. Sheer disgust, seeping out of the breath of everyone who passed. That is what my life had become. Ever since that one day. When everything I thought I knew was ripped apart in front of me.

It was the youngest who took me in. He seemed kind, welcomed me. One of those people that deep down you can tell had a good heart even if they hid it beneath a rough, silent exterior. I lived in his room free to do what I felt, unless the others were around, the older ones. When their voices carried through the door, I was hidden under the bed, its so our friendship will be ours alone I would convince myself, that he wanted me to be all his. But I suppose that should have been the first warning sign. Can a place truly be called your home if you have to hide from its very inhabitants? But sadly, I was naive… no, I chose to ignore it, I was too obsessed, too caught up by this newfound friendship to ever even consider the truth. I thought everything was perfect. Then it happened.  It was late at night, the door slammed behind him as the boy tumbled in. Raised voices instantly burnt through the very walls that surrounded me, through the doors, through everything. I had heard anger in those voices before, the times when I hid, but nothing like this, this was… new. The door crashed open, the boy collapsing to the ground. Eyes bloodshot, his mouth lined with dry, cracked vomit, his shirt, blooded, torn and stained. A sight that I wished I would never see again. As he hit the ground, he looked up at me, but there was no affection any more, just pure emptiness. I heard the voices come closer. There was no time to hide, no time to be hidden. Voices entered the room; eyes were cast down the decrepit shell lying on the floor, then to me. Hatred. Rough hands were placed on me, words crying out that I was to blame, that somehow, this was my entire fault. My protests, my cries of defense, all fell on deaf ears. No matter how much I pleaded, no matter how many times I cried out to them that there was more to me, more I could give to them, it was all to no avail. I was tossed out on the street, my once home fading in my eyesight as I tumbled, seemingly forever, sinking in to my own personal abyss.

An icy wind blew threw me, bringing me back from the horrid memory. I rolled onto my side, no longer sure if it was by my own personal doing or if I simply lacked the strength to offer any resistance. This is it, I thought to myself. This is how it is going to end. All the things I could have done, the places I could have seen, and now this will become my final resting place, a blotch in the street, surrounded by the ear wrecking sound of traffic and drunks. Some rest indeed. Through all the noise, I heard footsteps walking towards me. No doubt to impose some form of abuse towards me in my final moments I had thought. But no, a hand rested on my body. Warmth that I had not felt since… the boy? I turned around and stared up, locking eyes with an unfamiliar face. It was irrelevant. This man has picked me up in my time of need. He had saved me.

 took me to some form of haven for my kind. After I adjusted to the contrast of light, I looked around and saw countless amounts of those in the same position as me. It was amazing. I was no longer a freak. No longer an outcast, I was amongst my own kind at last. The time I spent there was the happiest of my life. On occasions, members of our private little community would be taken away by strangers from the outside, I had lost a few good friends through that, but even then the kind man would always bring in new members, new friends to be made, stories to be heard, connections to be formed. I should have learnt. All good things must come to a pass.

The horrendous noise sounded, the noise that sounded the arrival of a stranger. As usual, our host welcomed the man with open arms, allowing him to take his pick of who he wanted. The stranger cast his eyes along the crowd, passing by everyone I knew, his gaze nonchalant to all. All that is, except me. He looked straight at me, and stopped. Eyes bloodshot, his mouth lined with dry, cracked vomit, his shirt, blooded, torn and stained. The memory flooded through me. It was then I realized just how blind I had been. The night that changed it all, it had not been emptiness in the boy’s eyes. It had been lust! And it was lust again the bore its way inside my soul. The stranger had chosen. I wouldn’t be saying goodbye to a friend this time. I would be saying goodbye to everything.

The door opened to his building. And a building it would always be, never a home. No place with so much vile hatred seeping out of every crack in the wall, so much murk and gloom pouring out of every shadow, could ever be called a home. He sat in front of me, breathing his horrid breath over my neck, running his fingers down my body, inhaling my breath. I knew straight away, this was never going to end well. He lifted me, I felt weightless and powerless under his grasp. He put his lips around me, and it felt like he drank the very life force from my body. His brown, crusted teeth scraping against me, as his course tongue brought him to the satisfaction he had desired for so long. After what felt like an eternity in the lowest ring of hell, he was done. The door was opened, and for the second time in my life, I was cast out. This time however, there was no remorse. There was nothing. I was resound to my fate.

And that’s how I arrived here, lying once again in a gutter. This time, I know there will be no retribution. I can see my life flowing from my body. It’s coming to an end. If only things had been different. If only we really did have medicinal qualities, then maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be the end of just one more bottle of Buckfast.

title: The first story I wrote, no title, around 1100 words. Constructive criticism is welcome. :)

question: Summarize what, according to the narrator, led to their being in a gutter.

answer: It is a ambiguous, but it seems the narrator had been part of a cult or a family with little-to-no contact with the outside world. A younger character had taken the narrator in, but they were restricted to the younger one's room, hidden away from the elders. One night, deep voices came looking around, presumably for the narrator. They had found the narrator-who seemed ill-and cast the narrator out.

question: The narrator keeps getting thrown out-what could the reason be?

answer: It seems the narrator is afflicted with something and in poor health. Their description of themselves makes it seem like they might be some sort of a vampire, though there is no heavily corroborating evidence in the passage. It also seems like the communities around which they lurk and which they occasionally penetrate are insular and sort of cult-like. This story might take place in the past, where small communities were often extremely wary of outsiders.

question: Name one possible theory about the beings that keep abusing and throwing the narrator into the streets.

answer: Maybe the beings are vampires. The description of them is that they are crusty, older, have lust in their eyes, and horrid breath. They show no affection, and have strict rules regarding where they spend their personal time. It's also telling that they don't spend time with outsiders. In the end, the beings seem to use up the narrator's energy and abandon the narrator to an inevitable death.


text:
I am a first time poster here and unsure if this sub frowns on linking to my own site. A heads up would be nice. In the mean time. Here is a story I wrote in 2008 about socks. It has been denied publication after sitting in slush piles 10 or 12 times. My website is [joerdie.com](www.joerdie.com). The first half is below, the second is the first post as the story is over 10k. Thanks!

I looked down to see two drops of blood on the green carpet. They had come from my nose, and there would be more. The clerk, a woman in her 40's, began walking toward me from the counter with a concerned look on her face. It occurred to me that she may find it odd that I was standing in the sock aisle, with a nose bleed, after closing time, at a Boy Scout Store.

My love affair with the Boy Scout sock started innocently enough. I had graduated from Cub Scouts into Boy Scouts in the fall of 1990, around the time I turned ten. Reading about the BSA (Boy Scouts of America) now, I can only imagine the amount of angst within its ranks. The membership controversies over sexual abuse, homosexuality, and religion make me wonder if I will let my son join. But my time with the Scouts was nothing but sunny skies and clean, safe times. Well, mostly anyway. There was that one summer camp when my patrol leader ran out of cigarettes and gave us all tea leaves wrapped in parchment paper saying, "Look, it's the same thing, okay?" Or the time that we filled another Scout's bellybutton with tooth paste the first night of a trip. A week later, we watched in horror as the same scout took off his shirt before jumping in the pool. The once green and white toothpaste had turned black and molded into the folds of his overweight... folds. Or the time that we wiped an entire can of catfish bait under another scout's tent at the National Jamboree. The poor kid smelled like a cow pasture for the rest of the week. Even at my wedding a Boy Scout story was told, about earning my wilderness survival merit badge when my best man and I rolled over one another down a hill because we decided to sleep on too sharp an incline. (Many in my family already thought that I may be gay. The story of two boys rolling over one another down a hill didn?t help.) The Boy Scouts was a great experience for me, filled with excitement and adventure.

I earned the rank of Life before dropping out and clearly remember the night that I told my scoutmaster I was leaving the troop. I cried and stuttered. I knew I was never going to make Eagle. It wasn't in me. I had been drifting away from Troop 674 for a year. It was my time to leave. I grew out of my uniform. I left the dreams of Eagle behind me. I even started growing my hair to lengths the Beatles would never have gotten away with. But I never took off those socks. When I started with the Scouts, the uniform sock was worn up to the knee, puce green, and had a three-inch red rim that was meant to be folded over. A uniform change in the early 1990's brought the red trim to a logical half inch. That sock was the one I fell in love with. It was called "The Boy Scout Crew Sock," but was changed later to, "Boy Scout Thorlo Hiking Sock." The sturdy socks were made from a blend of acrylic, nylon, and spandex. If you bought them from an official Boy Scout store they were treated with Triclosan, an antibacterial, antifungal agent that stopped odors and athlete's foot dead in its tracks. The sock wicked sweat away from the foot and into the shoe. You could hike all day without an extra pair and never give it a second thought. You never had to wear two pairs to stop blisters. These socks were thick and clung to your foot with the force of super glue. They were, by far, the best sock ever produced.

I haven't worn another sock since their release. I wore them to job interviews, funerals, and of course, hiking. I wore them on my first date, wedding, and to the birth of my child. Every year, my mother bought a few more pairs at Christmas, and I waited until they were beyond threadbare to throw them away. I gave serious thought to learning how to darn socks just to make old pairs new. Ask anyone who knows me well about my clothing. Invariably, my socks will come up. But I never learned how to darn socks. I never savored the pairs I owned. Standing in that aisle at the back of the Boy Scout Store, I came to the realization that my sock was not there. After eighteen years, the uniform had changed, and left me in the cold.

That's when my nose started to bleed. I was tempted to bolt to my car at the speed of shame, my embarrassment following a few seconds behind. I pictured myself in the car, nursing my nose with an old Wendy's napkin from the glove box for almost a minute before a knock on the window would catch up with me. That's when I saw the woman with the concerned look walking toward me.

title: Short Story: Memories, Blood, and Socks.

question: Which rank did the narrator earn before dropping out?

answer: The rank of Life.

question: What is the Boy Scout sock?

answer: It's a part of their uniform, issued and specially treated to withstand outdoor rigor in the elements.

question: What social issue in particular does the narrator say the Boy Scouts do not have a good track record dealing with?

answer: Not being straight, and child abuse.

question: Why might the narrator's nose be bleeding?

answer: He has a lot of emotions surrounding his short time with the Boy Scouts and reasons for quitting.


text:
Carter looked left and right, scanning the subway station for any potential threats.  He casually walked up to the turnstile, putting his hands on either side and hopped over the rotating bars.  A dexterous dismount followed by a smooth  landing proved that Carter had done this before. He had enough money for the $2.50 Metrocard but this was more fun.  He must've saved dozens of dollars over the years doing this, even with the fifty dollar ticket he once got in Brooklyn.
	Carter walked up to the platform, his heart beating from this petty crime.  He was always a bit unnerved by jumping the turnstile but the adrenaline rush was enough of a reward for him.  He waited for the local 6 train to bring him back to Grand Central.  There were plenty of benches available but Carter decided to stand; the possibility of having to make small talk with a stranger made him sick.  Carter observed his surroundings using his peripherals, he didn't want people to think he was staring at them.  The two girls to his far left were complaining about the heat in the underground station.  Carter often took solo trips to the city during his summer vacation and grew accustomed to the warm, uncomfortable atmosphere of the station.
	Finally he heard a train making its way to the platform.  He looked down the dark tunnel as it began to grow brighter and brighter.  The light continued to grow until a “4” was visible on the front of the train.  It didn't slow down.  The number 4 train made its way down the middle track, skipping the  unimportant stop at which Carter had found himself waiting.  Carter wished he was like that express train, skipping over all the places he didn't want to go.  Instead, he was a local train, work-bound, home-bound, and soon enough, school-bound once again.  Carter had a few more minutes to observe the other local trains standing near him until finally the long awaited 6 came to a halt.
	It was already 1:30 in the morning by the time the subway doors closed.  By now even the express  wouldn't get Carter back to Grand Central in time to make the last train home.  He took the  northbound subway anyway, he enjoyed the trip.  There were always people to observe, each one with a different story that Carter could compose.  His inspiration was limited tonight as only a few accompanied Carter on the late-night ride.  His eyes wondered over to the two girls he had overheard on the platform.  A mini-skirt accompanied by a short black dress is all Carter saw in the two girls.  They were discussing the intriguing, controversial issue of meeting guys at nightclubs versus meeting guys at bars.  Mini-Skirt made a persuasive argument for nightclubs while Short Black Dress was a strong proponent of bars.  The debate was heated, each girl unwilling to change her viewpoint.  These girls were living the express life.
	Finally the train stopped at its final destination, Grand Central.  Mini-Skirt and Short Black Dress stood up and got off the train, Carter following only a few feet behind them.  The girls seemed unaware that the last train out of the city had left almost ten minutes ago. With their high-heeled stiletto strut, Mini-Skirt and Short Black Dress continued onward to the main terminal.  Carter, all the wiser,  took the street exit.
	Nowhere to go, nothing to do, needed by no one: just the way Carter liked it.  Freedom overcame his senses as he strolled down 42nd street, allowing his arms to swing back and forth like pendulums.  He wasn't a local train, not even an express.  Carter was much more than that now.  He could walk around aimlessly until the 5:36 local arrived to bring him back to a place where such a freedom didn't exist.  He wasn't school-bound, work-bound, or home-bound.  He wasn't bound at all.

title: The Local

question: What is Carter going to do in the City?

answer: He is going there to wander about aimlessly.

question: Where is Carter going?

answer: Into New York City.

question: Why is Carter going to the City?

answer: He needs an experience of freedom where he is not bound by home, work or school.

question: What are the girls on the train talking about?

answer: Whether it is better to meet men in nightclubs or in bars.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Carter hops the turnstile and takes the last train into Grand Central Station. He observes fellow passengers with his peripheral vision, trying to hear their stories without disturbing them. He wants an experience of total freedom, where he is not home-bound, work-bound or school-bound. He walks around the City.


text:
Rigel looked at her for what seemed the first time to her. She felt him peer down to the dark in her soul. Sensed him delving into what made her her. Prodding, seeking; searching for something in her. As she peered on his face, pallid in the low light of flickering arcane candles, she saw years of trained mental acuity reflected in his concentrated visage. Then with a crack resemblant of firecrackers he ceased to stand before her, but she continued to sense his presence as unbridled fear began to well up in her from the deep dark pits of her soul. Memories she had long buried. Tucked out of her conscious mind. Forgotten by a tortured mind in a fragile state. Claire shrieked as these dark fragments of time tore themselves from the long guarded reaches of her mind and came to play before her eyes as though they were yesterday.

Two young children walking through a field. Bright day. Grain swaying in the gentle breeze off the sea. Cool moisture. Lightning. Thunder. The taste of iron; Smell of blood. The touch of death grazed her child-mind as she turned violently, the world shaking as her senses were bombarded by blast after blast. Her friend lay there, torso burned out by strike after strike of lightning. Corpse blackened. Crisped to the bone. Face frozen in the smile she had been sharing with Claire, innocent and happy. The smell of blood lingered on her face but was replaced by the more pungent odor of burned flesh. Then as if by the lightning itself her self was returned to the dingy cabin with it's arcane tallow candle light and Rigel's penetrating glare.

The thunder still booming behind her eyes Rigel caught hold of her slender frame before she could drop to the dark pine wood of the forest cabin. Her rich auburn hair, as though flowing water, pooled beneath her head as he gently lowered Claire into a lying position. After fetching a soft lamb skin to cover her with Rigel sat back to contemplate what he had found while delving into her memories.

...Perhaps continued

EDIT: Spelling and fyi I think I could continue this for a while I have  character and environment development in mind - but am lacking in overall plot. I don't know where this would go long run

title: Exercise in sensory descriptions

question: Describe the "bright day".

answer: It seems that a storm emerged and Claire's friend was killed by lightning.

question: Who is Claire?

answer: It's not clear who Claire is, but she is someone with repressed, dark memories about what seems to be a traumatic childhood incident.

question: What is Rigel's relationship with Claire?

answer: That information can't be found, but he seems to be diving into Claire's mind.

question: What is forgotten by a tortured mind?

answer: Claire's memories

question: Why does Claire feel fear?

answer: Claire feels fear because a dark, repressed memory is being resurfaced.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Rigel looks at Claire, possibly trying to delve into her mind. This causes Claire to have painful flashbacks and transport her into a memory of her childhood friend being killed by lightning. When she returns to the present moment, Rigel is staring at her. She faints and Rigel reflects on her memories.


text:
BERNADETTE STRACHAN (née Gaughan, born 27 December 1962) is an English author of popular women's fiction and among the more popular writers of “chick lit.”

Biography

Bernadette Strachan was born in Fulham, London into an Irish Catholic family.[1] Her Irish background is often incorporated into her writing, particularly in the semi-autobiographical musical _Next Door's Baby_ which was written for London's Orange Tree Theatre with Matthew Strachan.[2] Prior to becoming an author she worked in the media as a radio advertising producer and subsequently as an agent for voiceover artists.[3]

Her first novel, _The Reluctant Landlady_, was published by Hodder & Stoughton in 2004 since when she has published a further three novels with the same publisher. In 2009 her fifth book, _How to Lose a Husband and Gain a Life_, followed in 2010 by _Why Do We Have to Live with Men?_, both published by Little, Brown. In 2013 her seventh novel, _The Valentine's Card_ was published by Little, Brown under the pseudonym of Juliet Ashton. She has written a further three novels as Juliet Ashton for Simon & Schuster and four novels as Claire Sandy for Pan Macmillan. She also writes screen and theatre works under her maiden name of Bernie Gaughan.[4] In 2017 Simon & Schuster announced that Strachan would be writing a crime thriller series with her composer husband Matthew Strachan under the pseudonym of M.B. Vincent.[5]

Bibliography

-   _The Reluctant Landlady_ (2004)[6]
-   _Handbags and Halos_ (2005)[7]
-   _Diamonds and Daisies_ (2007)[8]
-   _Little White Lies_ (2008)[9]
-   _How to Lose a Husband and Gain a Life_ (2009)[10]
-   _Why Do We Have to Live with Men?_ (2010)[11]
-   _The Valentine's Card_ (2013)[12]
-   _What Would Mary Berry Do?_ (2014)[13]
-   _A Very Big House in the Country_ (2015)[14]
-   _Snowed in For Christmas_ (2015)[15]
-   _These Days of Ours_ (2016)[16]
-   _A Not Quite Perfect Family_ (2017)[17]
-   _The Woman at Number 24_ (2017)[18]
-   _The Sunday Lunch Club_ (2018)[19]
-   _Jess Castle and the Eyeballs of Death_ (2018)[20]

Theatre Works

-   _Next Door's Baby_ (2006)
-   _About Bill_ (2011)[21]

[1]

[2] Next Door's Baby, review in The Times, 13 February 2008

[3] Hodder & Stoughton author biography

[4]

[5] Simon & Schuster announcement in _Book Brunch_

[6] _The Reluctant Landlady_ , Hodder & Stoughton

[7] _Handbags and Halos_ , Hodder & Stoughton

[8] _Diamonds and Daisies_ , Hodder & Stoughton

[9] _Little White Lies_ , Hodder & Stoughton

[10] _How to Lose a Husband and Gain a Life_ , Little, Brown

[11] _Why Do We Have to Live with Men?_, Little, Brown

[12] _The Valentine's Card_, Little, Brown

[13] _What Would Mary Berry Do?_, Pan Macmillan

[14] _A Very Big House In The Country_, Pan Macmillan

[15] _Snowed In For Christmas_, Pan Macmillan

[16] _These Days of Ours_, Simon & Schuster

[17] _A Not Quite Perfect Family_, Pan Macmillan

[18] _The Woman at Number 24_, Simon & Schuster

[19] _The Sunday Lunch Club_, Simon & Schuster

[20] _Jess Castle and the Eyeballs of Death_, Simon & Schuster

[21] interview, Whatsonstage

title: Bernadette Strachan

question: What does the text say about Strachan's various pseudonyms?

answer: Bernadette Strachan has published a total of four books under the name Juliet Ashton, and another four under the name Pan Macmillan. Strachan also writes screen and theater works under her maiden name of Bernie Gaughan/ Most recently, in 2017, it was announced that Strachan and her husband would write a crime thriller series under the pseudonym of M. B. Vincent.


text:
A nation's Intelligence Agency released a 140 page report detailing the lack of food and water for the planet's growing population, the inevitability of climate change to keep elevating dangerous weather conditions, and the destined collapse of the current monetary system.  The whole nation was already full of unhappy people, a generation that had been fed the lie that if they worked hard they would eventually be prosperous and happy, were unemployed or held dead-end jobs where they were constrained, bored, underpaid and unappreciated.  They were furious at being mislead.  A generation of baby-boomers before them had stolen all of the prosperity from the nation and left a dying planet behind as their inheritance.

The nation’s news-media grew increasingly cynical, morbid and depressing every day.  Networks were purely out to make money and the dying nation, which felt helpless to help itself, ate up these stories and wallowed in its unhappiness.  As a result those with mental disorders such as antisocial personality disorder, psychopathy and narcissistic personality disorder, began to believe that they were in fact part of the majority, as people had forgotten long ago that TV was not a true representation of reality.  Such individuals became so convinced of their normalcy that they never sought out the mental counseling they so desperately needed, and as their self-assurance grew so did their boldness.

A few started openly killing innocents, and once made famous by the greed of the media, more joined in.  Soon even innocent children were not safe from the crossfire.  With every disaster that befell the nation its people, scared and delusional, gave up one civil liberty after another until the freedom the nation once held proudly over the heads of the rest of the world was nothing more than a distant memory.  Its citizens grew divided between the five stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance as though each stage were in fact an ideology to live by.

Only a small percentage of the population had made it to the final stage and the deniers were so desperate to believe that everything would be OK that they turned their back completely on science and reason, the two things that human beings prided themselves on the most.  The desperate actively ignored the evidence that came to light more and more every day, and lashed out at those who sought to end their ignorance.  These people controlled vital aspects of the government, and so the nation was locked in a terrible stand still, completely unable to deal with the current problems and imminent dangers of the future.

Only one solution seemed to remain; revolution.  A total revision of government and civilization.  But revolution was never to happen, too much of the nation had become convinced that they were completely helpless to influence the world, and reverted to total depression, complete apathy or a mix of the two.  Each time an uprising started it was never able to gain enough momentum to stop the government from quelling it, through military and police action, and more powerfully through clever manipulation of the press and propaganda.  People came to fear conflict more than anything, especially amongst themselves and so they created societal restrictions on which words they could say and which situations they could show in movies and on TV. In this stifling environment people became unable to think for themselves, and creativity and originality were snuffed out.  Suicides, murders and sickness grew.

Some began openly hoping for the end of their world.  Nature began lashing out in its death throes as the misery of money continued to strangle it.  Floods, droughts, blizzards, and terrible storms wreaked havoc across the planet.  Wars over resources broke out around the globe, and finally the government took total control of the nation through military and police supervision.  Each and every citizen was now a ward of the state, but even with strict laws in place limiting the production of more children the population had already grown too large to sustain.  Soon governments around the world began to consider something once thought to be unthinkable-nuclear war.

All it took was one missile, and all pandemonium broke out. No one can remember who made the first move, but it hardly mattered once a nuclear winter, an event which scientists had been warning about for decades, consumed the planet.  The access to food and water, already scarce, became virtually non-existent and the starving population bottlenecked.  The humans, plants and animals that managed to survive were plagued with genetic mutations and disease.  Extinctions on a massive scale ravaged the land and sea.  Eventually only a small niche of organic life remained, breeding and evolving over many thousands of years to create a new era.  Although some mutated form of the human genome survived, the human race is never again at the top of the food chain.

All information that humans had gathered and analyzed over the centuries was lost forever, for you see, the human race had been so distracted by war and money that they had never mastered space travel.  When the sun eventually went supernova, any existence of life on the planet Earth and possibly in the entire known universe was completely eliminated.  Doomed to revert to the stardust which had originally allowed for its creation.

The end.

This is my first time writing anything other than a research paper really, so I'm curious as to how other people view the style, and what you all generally think.  (It's ok if you don't like it!)

title: "I'm afraid that this story takes place in the not-so-distant future."

question: What nation is the narrator talking about?

answer: That information can’t be found.

question: Who were the unhappy people blaming for their current predicament (jobless, homeless, unhappy)?

answer: The baby-boomers.

question: Who started killing innocents and why?

answer: Those with mental disorders such as antisocial personality disorder, psychopathy, and narcissistic personality disorder because they stopped seeking help and taking meds.

question: What happened in the end?

answer: Nuclear war broke out, followed by nuclear winter, killing everything except for a small niche of organic life.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator paints a grim yet plausible future where an overpopulated planet succumbs into chaos due to overpopulation, global warming, food/water shortages, depression, apathy, and finally nuclear annihilation. The human race and all information gathered are lost forever because of man's fixation on money and war.


text:
Warehouses, distribution centers and grocery stores are overflowing with some food staples, such as milk, eggs and frozen fruits and vegetables, the result of increased production and decreased exports. Take dairy, for example: With the most milk ever produced in the U.S. — about 24 billion gallons — that means there are record amounts of butter and cheese.

[Eggs laid by cage-free chickens sit in a holder after being sorted at a farm near Waukon, Iowa.]
The glut of food means lower prices for consumers. Here's a short explanation of how the surplus came about and where it all goes:

Why is there so much extra food?

Two years ago, high prices for milk, pork, poultry and eggs encouraged farmers to expand livestock operations. Plus, U.S. consumers were opening their wallets and trade partners were willing to keep buying our products. Add to that the cheap cost of animal feed that encouraged farmers to boost livestock's weight before taking them to market.

But agriculture is a cyclical business: The relative high value of the dollar makes U.S. products more expensive to importers, so they've slowed their buying. Last year's bird flu crisis also caused many trade partners to stop taking eggs and turkey and chicken meat, and while production of eggs has returned, demand isn't fully restored.

Those factors and others have suppressed demand, but the cows keep pumping out milk and veggies continue to grow, resulting in a surplus of certain types of food.

Where does it all go?

Step into the freezer. The 1.24 billion pounds of cheese in refrigerated warehouses is the highest for the month of August since records began in 1921, and includes nearly 770 million pounds of American cheese and 25.7 million pounds of Swiss. Other stockpiles include:

-   322 million pounds of butter (up 52 percent from a year ago)
-   1.52 billion pounds of frozen fruit, including 377 million pounds of strawberries and 313 million pounds of blueberries
-   1.31 billion pounds of frozen poultry (chicken and turkey), up 4 percent from a year ago.

But not everything is being stored. The USDA announced in August it was buying 11 million pounds of cheese for $20 million and sending it to food banks and food pantries through a government nutrition assistance program. Farm organizations also are boosting their efforts to improve U.S. exports and move some of the glut out of the country.

How long will prices stay low?

Food prices depend on factors beyond just supply, such as weather and oil prices. Given those unpredictable factors, the USDA expects supermarket prices overall to rise between 1 and 2 percent next year for beef, veal, pork, eggs, poultry and fresh fruit.

question: According to this author, why are warehouses, grocery stores, and distribution centers overflowing with some food stables?

answer: It's the result of increased production and decreased imports.

question: How much milk was produced in the U.S. at the time this article was written?

answer: 24 billion gallons.

question: Why is there too much food?

answer: Two years ago, high prices for milk, pork, poultry and eggs encouraged farmers to expand livestock operations, and also, trade partners were willing to keep buying US products.

question: Where does all this excess food go?

answer: It is refrigerated in warehouses or given to food banks and food pantries.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: The US is mass producing too much food-primarily in the agricultural sector. Two years ago, the rising prices for milk, produce, poultry, and eggs were high, encouraging farmers to expand their livestock operations. Trade partners were willing to continue buying US products. Now there is an excess that is stored in refrigerators or donated to food banks and food pantries. Given the unpredictable set of factors such as weather, supply, and oil prices, it's hard to predict how long prices will stay as low as they currently are (as of this article's publication).


text:
Fifteen days after the collapse, the remaining miners aboveground had given up hope, for themselves and for their trapped compatriots. Operations planetside had ground to a halt as they frantically sought to excavate the miners left five miles below the surface of the planet, but with no minerals coming in -- the combined talent of the prospecting team was stuck below as well, so new shafts could not be dug -- the Jobarsky corporation's outpost on barren Iagma could only sustain their drilling for three more days.

The peculiar astronomy of Iagma meant that this part of the planet would go dark shortly afterwards, and stay that way for weeks -- a mere claw of darkness clutching at the life trespassing here. After a respite of four more sunlit days, the long sleek carapace of polar winter, a years-long veil, would come upon the miners in full force, exacting the full sentence for their crime; they were Hypnos and Thanatos, respectively.

An evacuation would come in the days after the first darkness, Hypnos, and take all the miners it could with it. However, the orbital vessel, whose between-voyage life support systems ran on solar energy, could egress its orbit of Iagma no later than the start of Thanatos, or it would not escape the penumbra of Iagma until too late, and the miners would freeze inside their ship.

On the sixteenth day, one of the engineers at the outpost proposed, out of desperation, loading a few of the prospectors from the backup consciousness database, something only done in the case of death to consult the deceased on their wishes -- otherwise, the backup consciousnesses went straight to the renewal labs. The machines could simulate homeostatic conditions on the brain and the interactions of neurons, though in the process, altering the conscious state of the stored persona; when the deceased was restored, the simulated stimulation of their brain would be committed to memory as if it had happened. The experience of almost complete olfactory and tactile sensory deprivation [those two senses required too much computing power to simulate in real time] could prove traumatic to the individual being restored, when recalling the memory. But at a time like this, the risk, though more present than usual, had to be overlooked.

The prospectors were loaded and simulated, and given the data they needed; within the hour, the digging equipment was being redirected to mineral and gas-rich deposits in the rocks of Iagma. One day after that, the outpost had enough fuel to sustain the miners and their life support throughout Hypnos.

Far below the surface of the planet -- five miles below -- the coleopteromorphs work tirelessly to prepare for the long winter. Winter, however, is not so much a measure of whether it is warm or cold, light or dark; it is always warm and always dark. But the blood of the coleopteromorphs remembers a time when fearsome dromaiforms roamed the surface, and every winter, the coleopteromorphs would come to the surface and confront the dromaiforms, biting and pincing and slashing and being kicked and crushed, until chitin and bone laid in great heaps upon the landscape, and the soft insides of both animals seeped into the cool dirt.

Now, the last of the dromaiforms has vanished. Dirt has turned to crumbling clay and rocks, and all that remain are the hard shells and the skeletons, relics of battles fought too long ago. Only the blood remembers, and boils over every winter; coleopteromorphs turn on one another and skirmish, nay, wage war over the meagerest of resources. Workers furiously gather old bone, to be incorporated into the diets of the warriors, so that their shells grow strong.

With the collapse of the tunnels, and the trapping of the workers and their gathered bone on the other side, this colony of coleopteromorphs would be destroyed in the coming winter: no bone, weak shells; weak shells, weak warriors; weak warriors, we are destroyed.

However, some of the aliens were trapped inside our tunnels during the collapse, and upon dissection of one of their dead, we determined that they indeed possess bone. It is, therefore, in our interests to keep them alive and breed them. If this fails, we may need to replicate them by other means. This should not be necessary.

Upon each alien specimen's death, the bones will be collected and incorporated into the warrior diets -- the number of dead we have found in the collapse should suffice for our survival throughout the long winter, and extensive population of our colony with these creatures should serve to create a sustainable form of chitin mineralization. We will resume digging in the summer. There will be no rescue until this time. Repeat: there will be no rescue.

Late day seventeen, a security officer found a tunnel leading downwards into the planet. An investigative team was deployed and found that the tunnel had caved in, similarly to the mineshaft more than a fortnight earlier. More importantly, a great number of the insectoid creatures known to inhabit the depths of the planet were found in this tunnel, some of which were still alive. Two of these creatures were, after a brief scuffle which eventually involved the use of the morphine one of the medical officers on the investigative team was carrying, taken back to the outpost for analysis. No living specimens had been produced before this time.

Early day eighteen, the sun had almost set. The result of the analysis was that these insectoids, incredibly enough, produced hydrocarbons resembling fuel in the presence of excess food. These hydrocarbons could be extracted without killing the creature, so it was in the mining team's best interest to capture these creatures, keep them alive, and breed them. If this had failed, they may have needed to replicate them through genetic sampling and DNA recombination. This was not necessary.

These alien specimens would go on to be used as a renewable fuel source for the Jobarsky mining corporation, deployable on any planet with a thin atmosphere, rocky soil, and cool temperatures. The number of these insectoids they were able to recover was sufficient to provide auxiliary heating and lighting throughout Hypnos. A more extensive population of other planets with these creatures could nearly match the fuel production of a Jobarsky team, which would continue their mining operations in the Iagman summer. There could be and would be no rescue for the trapped miners until this time. Repeat: there would be no rescue.

title: Harvest Interruption

question: What is the backup consciousness database?

answer: Unclear.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Miners are trapped five miles below the surface. Despite efforts they are unable to rescue the trapped miners.


text:
KEEFER may refer to:

-   Charles Keefer (1852–1932) was one of Canada's pioneering engineers
-   Don Keefer (1916-2014), American actor originally from Pennsylvania
-   Francis Henry Keefer (1860–1928), Canadian lawyer and politician
-   Janice Kulyk Keefer (born 1952), Canadian novelist and poet
-   John Keefer Mahony (1911–1990), Canadian recipient of the Victoria Cross
-   Keefer-Brubaker Farm (Oscar Fogle Farm), a historic home and farm complex located at Taneytown, Carroll County, Maryland
-   Philip B. Keefer (1875–1949), United States Navy sailor and a recipient the Medal of Honor for his actions during the Spanish–American War
-   Thomas Keefer (1821–1915), Canadian civil engineer
-   Keefers, British Columbia, also known as Keefer's, a ghost town and former railway boomtown in British Columbia

title: Keefer

question: Who was Charles Keefer?

answer: One of Canada's pioneering engineers.

question: Who was Don Keefer?

answer: An American actor.

question: Who was Francis Henry Keefer?

answer: A Canadian lawyer and politician

question: When did he die?

answer: 1928.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Keefer is typically a last name.


text:
The Audi R8 has been the fastest production car in the Audi lineup for quite some time. Yet, it has taken a step ahead at the 2014 Los Angeles Auto Show to offer the fastest R8 todate. The German automaker displayed the limited edition 2015 R8 Competition with an engine upgrade and a little makeover.

Under the hood of 2015 Audi R8 Competition is a 5.2 liter FSI V10 engine paired with the seven-speed S-Tronic gearbox. This time, the engine generates 570 horsepower, which is 20 hp greater than that of V10 Plus. This would let the supercar achieve a top speed of 320 km/h with 0-100km/h acceleration in just 3.2 seconds.

In addition to boosted engine power, the AUDI R8 COMPETITION also receives some design updates. Some of the prominent touches include black carbon fiber wing, slide blades, engine cover, rear diffuser and aero parts, which add to the sporty design as well as performance. Moreover, the exhaust pipes and wheels are also tinted with high-gloss black paint in contrast with the carbon fibered body panels.

[The Fastest Audi R8]

The 2015 Audi R8 Competition was exhibited at the event along with the revamped version of Audi A7 Sportback. At the same time, Audi has also unveiled the AUDI PROLOGUE CONCEPT CAR with a stunning design philosophy.

[The Fastest Audi R8]

Although the price of R8 Competition is not confirmed yet, we can tell that the US market will receive not more than 60 units of this premium sports coupe. With its launch at LA Auto Show, the company has already started taking orders, while the deliveries will be made in early 2015.

question: At the time of this article, what was the fastest Audi?

answer: The Audi R8, replaced by the 2015 R8 Competition.

question: How many cylinders does the R8 Competition have?

answer: It's a V10.

question: Roughly how many miles per hour does it achieve in 3.2 seconds?

answer: About 60 mph.

question: What nationality is the Audi company?

answer: German

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Audi revealed it's new 2015 R8 Competition at the 2014 Los Angeles Auto Show. The super car sports a 5.2 liter FSI V10 engine paired with a seven speed S-Tronic gearbox. It's also received some design updates. The US market will receive no more than 60 units, they're already taking orders, and delivery will be made in 2015.


text:
Whether or Knot LLC d.b.a. AERISWEATHER is a global weather API and tile mapping layer provider governed by Paul Douglas, David Hubbard, Michael Vaughan, and Craig Mataczynski. It is based in Eden Prairie, Minnesota.[1]

History

Paul Douglas first had the idea for outsourced weather production in 1979 but shelved it due to the expected high cost, mostly for satellite feeds ($5 to $7 million a month). With his lay off from WCCO-TV in 2008, Douglas started WeatherNation as broadband's availability decreased the costs. Douglas was CEO and Todd Frostad, formerly of Digital River and a commercial real estate businessman, was president and co-owner. The company hired 5 other meteorologists.[2] One of the company's first client was the St. Cloud Times[3] who signed on during the summer of 2009.[4] Another was KARE in launching its Weather Now subchannel.[5] In 2009 Media Logic, WeatherNation's parent company, purchased HamWeather, an Atlanta based company.[6][7] By November 2009, the company had about two dozen clients with some being Spanish-language stations. WeatherNation also signed on Independent News Network which uses the company for five of its Spanish-language client stations.[8]

On May 20, 2010, the company launched The Weather Cast, a channel developed for Dish Network with the intent to replace The Weather Channel on the satellite provider. Dish, which had been negotiating with the channel on a new carriage agreement, had planned to drop The Weather Channel as a result of a dispute over a planned increase in retransmission consent payments and the provider's dissatisfaction with the channel's decreased reliance on weather forecasts in favor of reality, documentary and other entertainment programming.[9] Weather Cast existed for four days, ceasing operations on May 24, when The Weather Channel reached a multi-year agreement with Dish Network.[10]

The company licensed its WeatherNation trademarks and brand to Performance One Media in 2010 and changed its name to Broadcast Weather. Broadcast Weather also was contracted to produce the WeatherNation programming.[11][12] With the license out of the Weather Nation trademarks, the company was split into four companies, Broadcast Weather LLC, Ham Weather LLC, Smart Energy LLC and Singular Logic.[13]

In June 2010, the company with Insight Communications launched CN2 cable channel to serve the state of Kentucky providing the weather. By Mid-August 2011, Broadcast Weather was providing weather video to Bay News, a San Francisco Bay area iPad-only news service.[14]

Current Operations under Whether or Knot, LLC

On August 1, 2016, Whether or Knot, LLC announced its acquisition of HAMWeather's assets. Via an announcement on the HAMWeather site, it was announced that AerisWeather was to become the trade name for the future developments in their weather API and mapping products which are currently taking the place under the umbrella of Whether or Knot LLC.[15] The entity that formerly owned AerisWeather was renamed Praedictix. In early April 2020, AerisWeather refreshed PWSweather, a site that allows personal weather station users to collect and share data.[16]

Products and Services

Services

-   AerisWeather API, a global weather API oriented towards business and enterprise applications offering historical, current, and forecast conditions for nearly any location on Earth. Two types of plan are available.
    -   API Basic - Includes the following endpoints: Places, Observations, Forecasts (7 days), Sun & Moon, Alerts, Lightning Summary.
    -   API Premium - Includes the following endpoints: Places, Conditions, Observations, Forecasts (15 days), Sun & Moon, Alerts, Lightning, Air Quality, Threats, Tropical Cyclones, Storm Cells, Storm Reports, Wildfires, Points of Interest (POI), Normals/Almanac, Daily Records, Earthquakes, Tides, Indices (Health & Outdoors), Fire Weather Outlook, and Drought Monitor.
-   AerisWeather Mapping Platform (AMP), offers map layers for visualizing weather data in custom applications. Two types of plan are available.
    -   AMP Basic - Includes basic map layers like base maps, overlays, masks, radar, satellite, alerts, and observed weather conditions.
    -   AMP Premium - Includes premium map layers like base maps, overlays, masks, radar, satellite, alerts, and observed weather conditions as well as severe, tropical, lightning, forecast, air quality, outlook, and ocean layers.
-   WeatherBlox, embeddable weather widgets powered by the AerisWeather API and AMP.[17]
-   PWSweather, a site that allows personal weather station owners to monitor, manage, and archive their device's data.[18]
    -   AerisWeather Contributor Plan - limited API access is granted to PWS contributors who regularly send data.

Former Units

-   Broadcast Weather, LLC provides TV station weather reports
-   Ham Weather LLC, development of graphics, data streams and mobile API’s
-   Smart Energy LLC, wind forecasts for wind farms
-   Singular Logic, patent or patent pending holder of user choice advertising[19]

[1] .

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15] HAMWeather, “HAMWeather homepage”, _HAMweather Sold to AerisWeather_, date

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

title: AerisWeather

question: Why didn't Paul Douglas found a company for outsourced weather production earlier?

answer: The satellite feeds to make it happen would've cost millions of dollars per month.

question: What technological developments made outsourced weather production feasible?

answer: Satellite feeds were extremely expensive. The wide availability of broadband decreased the costs.

question: What kinds of services does AerisWeather offer?

answer: Weather forecasts in detail, satellite mapping with various layers, embeddable widgets, personal data management for personal weather station owners, and the AerisWeather API that's aimed toward business and enterprise applications.

question: Is Paul Douglas the head of AerisWeather?

answer: The article doesn't mention what happened to Paul Douglas in between all the acquisitions, mergers, and rebrandings.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: Paul Douglas started WeatherNation after his lay off from WCCO-TV in 2008. Starting with five other meteorologists, WeatherNation had two dozen clients by November 2009. In 2010 the company changed its name to Broadcast Weather and licensed its WeatherNation trademarks and brand to Performance One Media. In addition to renaming, the company split into four with the other three being Ham Weather LLC, Smart Energy LLC, and Singular Logic. In 2016, Whether or Knot LLC announced its acquisition of Ham Weather assets, and rebranded the new entity as AerisWeather. They offer detailed forecasts, layered satellite mapping, data management for individual weather stations, weather widgets, and the AerisWeather API.


text:
You pull the trigger in a game, and a series of 1s and 0s determines whether you did anything in the virtual world. You pull the trigger on this thing and a real gun shoots at a real, living creature.

Last year, Jay Williams - the man whose property the contraption was discovered on - built this rig opposite a food plot in Georgia. It consisted of three shotguns and some web cameras. The shotguns were rigged to fire when given commands over the internet.

Williams says the guns, which he claims were never completed, were designed to allow people to shoot feral hogs, which are present in the area. A user could sit at home and control the guns via remote control; once a pig wandered into range of the platform, they could operate the guns without needing to be anywhere near the action.

Sounds convenient! Problem is, remote-controlled shotguns set up in the middle of the scrub are not just dangerous, they're also highly illegal (in 25 states, at least, including Georgia) which may explain why by the time the cops came to check them out they'd mysteriously "disappeared", never to be seen of again.

Web-controlled guns are illegal [The Augusta Chronicle, via MAKE]

question: What was Jay Williams building?

answer: Jay Williams was building a contraption to shoot feral hogs.

question: How was the contraption controlled?

answer: The contraption was controlled by the commands issued over the internet.

question: Why was the contraption removed?

answer: The contraption was removed because web controlled guns are illegal.

question: What happened when the cops came to check on the contraption?

answer: The contraption had mysteriously "disappeared" when the cops came to check on it.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Jay Williams was building a contraption to remotely kill feral hogs with internet controlled shotguns. This is illegal, and when the cops came to check them out, the contraption had disappeared.


text:
DENIS-WILL POHA (born 28 May 1997) is a French professional footballer who plays as midfielder for Vitória Guimarães.[1]

Club career

Early career

Born in Lannion in 1997, Poha started his football career with local team, Lannion FC youth team in October 2004.[2] Poha played four season for Lannion and moved to EA Guingamp youth team in July 2008, at the age of 11. After two years Poha returned to hometown team, Lannion FC. After a season, he moved to Stade Rennais.[3]

Rennes

In 2015, Poha was called up for Stade Rennais first team. On 22 August, in a Ligue 1 match against Olympique Lyonnais, Poha was an unused substitute.[4] On 14 December 2016, he made his senior team debut against in Coupe de la Ligue against AS Monaco at Stade Louis II, playing the game as a starter for full-time.[5]

He was loaned to AS Nancy in January 2019 until the end of the season.[6]

International career

Poha won the 2016 UEFA European Under-19 Championship with France national under-19 football team, playing five games in the competition.

Career statistics

Club

[7]

  Club             Season    League   Cup     League Cup   Europe   Other   Total
  ---------------- --------- -------- ------- ------------ -------- ------- ------- ------ ------- ------ ------- ---
  Apps             Goals     Apps     Goals   Apps         Goals    Apps    Goals
  Rennes           2016–17   0        0       0            0        1       0
  2018–19          2         0        1       0            0        0       2
  Total            2         0        1       0            1        0       2
  Orléans (loan)   2017–18   35       4       1            0        1       0
  Nancy (loan)     2018–19   14       1       0            0        0       0
  Career total     51        5        2       0            2        0       2

  : Appearances and goals by club, season and competition

Honours

International

-   UEFA European Under-19 Championship: 2016

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

title: Denis-Will Poha

question: Who is Denis-Will Poha?

answer: He is a French professional footballer who plays as a midfielder for Vitória Guimarães.

question: Where and when did Poha start his football career?

answer: Poha started his football career with a local team, Lannion FC youth team in October 2004.

question: When did Poha make his senior team debut in Coupe de la Ligue and against what team?

answer: On December 14, 2016, against AS Monaco at Stade Louis II.

question: What international championship has Poha won so far?

answer: He won the 2016 UEFA European Under-19 Championship with the France national under-19 football team.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Denis-Will Poha is a French professional footballer who plays as a midfielder for Vitória Guimarães. He started his career with the Lannion FC youth team in October 2004 and made his senior team debut in Coupe de la Ligue against AS Monaco at Stade Louis II in December 2016. Paho also won the UEFA European Under-19 Championship with the French National under-19-team.