text:
_THE DRY SALVAGES_ is the third poem of T. S. Eliot's _Four Quartets_, marking the beginning of the point when the series was consciously being shaped as a set of four poems. It was written and published in 1941 during the air-raids on Great Britain, an event that threatened him while giving lectures in the area. The title comes from the name of a marine rock formation off the coast of Cape Ann, Massachusetts, where he spent time at as a child.

The poem discusses the nature of time and what humanity's place is within time. Life is described metaphorically as travelling in a boat and humanity's fixation on science and future gain keeping the travellers from reaching their destination. Within the poem, Eliot invokes the image of Krishna to emphasise the need to follow the divine will instead of seeking personal gain.

Background

Eliot began working on _The Dry Salvages_ during World War II at a time when London was experiencing air-raids near the end of 1940. During the time, he moved around often and spent his time writing mostly lectures or tiny poems. However, he was able to find time to work on the third poem that would become part of the _Four Quartets_:[1] Eliot envisioned that _Burnt Norton_, _East Coker_, _The Dry Salvages_, and a fourth, yet uncreated poem would be united in a set. Eliot wrote the poem quickly and sent the first draft off on 1 January 1941 to John Hayward. After Hayward received the draft, the two began corresponding about corrections and alterations to the poem. Geoffrey Faber joined in and then the poem was soon finished. It was published in the February 1941 issue of the _New English Weekly_.[2]

According to a note by Eliot under the title, “_The Dry Salvages_—presumably _les trois sauvages_—is a small group of rocks, with a beacon, off the north east coast of Cape Ann, Massachusetts. _Salvages_ is pronounced to rhyme with _assuages_.”[3] The location is a place that Eliot knew, and the poem links the image of Cape Ann to Eliot's boyhood sailing at Gloucester Harbor. _The Dry Salvages_ also invokes images of the Mississippi River and Eliot's childhood in St Louis. These images and the other personal references were originally intended to be discussed in an autobiographical work that was to collect a series of essays about Eliot's childhood.[4]

Poem

The poem is described as a poem of water and hope.[5] It begins with images of the sea, water, and of Eliot's past; this water later becomes a metaphor for life and how humans act. This transitions into an image of a ringing bell and a discussion on time and prayer. Images of men drowning dominate the section before leading into how science and ideas on evolution separate mankind from properly understanding the past. This ends with Krishna stating that the divine will, and not future benefits or rewards, matters. The fourth section is a prayer to the Virgin Mary for fishermen, sailors, and the drowned.[6]

The end of _The Dry Salvages_ starts with a discussion about how people attempt to see the future through various superstitious means.[7] Then the narrator tries to convince the reader that resignation about death is necessary. However, such resignation should be viewed as pushing the self towards redemption and the eternal life in the next world. By acting properly, one would be able to overcome life and move towards the next world.[8]

Themes

The central image of _The Dry Salvages_ is water and the sea. The images are similar to the _Odyssey_ but represent internal aspects. Humanity loses itself to technology and theories like evolution that separate mankind philosophically from the past.[9] According to Eliot, within each man there is a connection to all of mankind. If we just accept drifting upon the sea, then we will end up broken upon rocks. We are restrained by time, but the Annunciation gave mankind hope that he will be able to escape. This hope is not part of the present. What we must do is understand the patterns found within the past to see that there is meaning to be found. This meaning allows one to experience eternity through moments of revelation. Through Christ, we are able to overcome time unless we do not know him. Our corruption can be overcome and that we are able to join the eternal.[10]

Eliot invokes images of original sin and Adam's fall when talking about the past and points out that such events can be forgotten but can still affect mankind. Eliot brings in the image of Krishna to discuss how the past and future are related: Krishna, speaking to Arjuna, claims that death can come at any time and that men should always find the divine will instead of worrying about what their actions will bring. If an individual were to follow Krishna's words then they would be able to free their self from the limitations of time. Even if it cannot be fully attained, the effort in attempting it is still important.[11] The way for mankind to understand the divine will is through prayer and through the power of the Holy Spirit.[12]

Many of the images connect back to his earlier works. The images of life as boat adrift with a leak is similar to the “Death by Water” section of _The Waste Land_. Like images about old age and experience found in _East Coker_, this image reinforces the need to look at the whole of life and try to see things beyond the limitations of time. Men are supposed to progress, but they aren't supposed to focus on what they can gain in the future. The prayer to the Virgin Mary is intended to help guide the journey which would end with understanding eternity and the Annunciation. It is Mary who will guide the metaphorical sailors to their proper harbour.[13] While connecting back to his earlier works, Eliot also connects back to his family's past; the “Dry Salvages” was part of the landscape his ancestor Andrew Eliott travelled to in 1669.[14]

Sources

Part of _The Dry Salvages_ refers to Eliot's joining the Anglican Church and his personal pursuit of the divine.[15] There are also many references to events and places that Eliot knew as a child.[16] In terms of literary allusions, Eliot brings in Krishna's and Arjuna's discussion from the _Bhagavad-Gita_ on acting according to the divine will along with allusions to Dante's _Paradiso_, the philosophy of Heraclitus, and the _Book of Common Prayer_.[17] In regard to these allusions, Eliot would mark up his own editions of the works to note where he used quotes or allusions to lines within his work. In particular, his edition of the _Mahabharata_ included a page added which compared battle scenes with “The Dry Salvages”.[18]

Reception

A review in the _Times Literary Supplement_ dated 4 September 1941 stated that there was a “note of quiescence, even of bleak resignation” in the poem and that it “lost that spice of wit which was woven into the logic of the earlier poems”.[19] Later, Bernard Bergonzi claimed that “_The Dry Salvages_ is the least satisfactory of the sequence, though at the same time it contains some of its best lines. The opening lines are poor, in a weakly sub-Whitmanesque fashion. Yet the writing suddenly picks up at the words, 'The river is within us,' and from there to the end of the section we have a magnificently sustained sequence”.[20] F. B. Pinion believed that “'The Dry Salvages' is a complicated, uneven, and rather prosy poem, in which Eliot continues to say the same thing, with some progression, mainly in maritime imagery”.[21]

[1] Pinion 1986 p. 48

[2] Ackroyd 1984 p. 262

[3] Eliot 1980 p. 130

[4] Ackroyd 1984 pp. 262–263

[5] Kirk 2008 p. 254

[6] Pinion 1986 pp. 226–228

[7] Pinion 1986 p. 228

[8] Kirk 2008 p. 242

[9] Pinion 1986 pp. 226–227

[10] Kirk 2008 pp. 254–257

[11] Pinion 1986 pp. 227–228

[12] Schuchard 1999 p. 188

[13] Manganiello 1989 pp. 33–35

[14] Gordon 2000 pp. 336–337

[15] Pinion 1986 p. 36

[16] Ackroyd 1984 p. 263

[17]

[18] Gordon 2000 p. 85

[19] Grant 1997 qtd p. 43

[20] Bergonzi 1972 p. 170

[21] Pinion 1986 p. 226

title: The Dry Salvages

question: Who wrote the poem?

answer: T. S. Eliot

question: When was the poem published?

answer: 1941

question: What is the poem named after?

answer: A rock formation off the coast of Cape Ann, Massachusetts

question: What is the poem a part of?

answer: Eliot's Four Quartets

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The Dry Salvages is the third poem of T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets. It was written and published in 1941 and centers on the nature of time and humanity's place within it.


split: train

text:
the pitfighter's guide to the galaxy

*Things were different in my day, thought Buster Knuckles, glancing up at the impressive array of Silverware on the shelf of his study. He took a gulp from the coffee mug, dwarved inside his right hand and jabbed at London's unluckiest 'touchscreen' computer with his left, scanning through the exhaustive roster of athletes. He keyed over to another page, glaring at the five empty fields on the Intergalactic Fight Federation entry form. "Thank God for that."*

In hindsight, it is quite amusing to consider the people of Earth's reactions when the news of iminent first contact filtered through. Scientists stood expectantly, revellers readied for revelry, religious figures piously prayed or wailed hysterically, linguists got out their phrase books, businessmen got busy and amabassadors amassed. Nobody thought to pack their sports kit.

First 'contact' was actually a misnomer, being that it was, as always, mediated and facilitated by the digital-ether class beings. Forms of life that had, by device or design, transcended our physical world and existed as immortal, barely fathomable clusters of consciousness. Communication was made via holographic display in which all manner of spacey things were explained (in what many felt was a slightly cursory manner) until the subject of sports was broached. The real 'first contact' came in the form of a swift left hook.

It is now known the rules of galactic engagement, when a civilisation is developed in technology and philosophy and deemed to be moderately peaceable or merely 'a bit feisty', the digital-ether give invitation to join the intergalactic federation. This enables civilisations to share knowledge, philosophy, ideas and insults. Trade and physical interaction is nigh on impossible given the massive physical distances between worlds that can only be traversed by the digital-ethers, and they don't much like the idea of ferrying round lumps of dirt for inferior species to squabble over, furthermore they refuse to be responsible for genetic contamination and subsequent annhilation of worlds (after the B-3633 incident).

 More importantly, it gives them the opportunity to watch creatures sportingly knock the crap out of each other.

By coincedence of his hollywood retirement and the interception of our day to day doings by these other worlds, buster was hailed as the benchmark. It was decreed by the folks of planet Earth that buster was the man to represent the lads to represent our entire planet in this galactic punch-up.

title: teaser for an idea, pursue or abandon?

question: What is the potential title for this?

answer: The pitfighter's guide to the galaxy

question: What is meant by "pitfigher"?

answer: It seems that is someone who interacts in first-person head-on in an intergalactic situation. In this case it's someone who is literally in a pit fighting one or more others.

question: Why is 'first contact' a misnomer, according to the author?

answer: There has always been ongoing contact through digital means.

question: Who represents humans from Earth in this battle?

answer: Buster

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The author advocates for a kind of intergalactic dueling predicated on the prevailing and historic arguments among philosophers and scientists regarding life outside earth. The author says a fighter named Buster represents humans on earth in an actual physical fighting pit.


text:
A Great Investment For a First Time Home Buyer in NH

If you’re a first time home buyer in NH, and haven’t yet considered the benefits of a condominium, take a second to think about it one more time. Condos are ideal for many reasons and have become an increasingly popular alternative to using that first time home buyers loan to purchase a large home. In NH, and the Seacoast in particular, condo sales have steadily increased over the past year or so. The month of July was the best month for condominium sales volume in the Seacoast region since last July, according to a recent report from the Seacoast Board of Realtors. Condo units also reached an annual high for the year that exceeded 2013 totals by 23 percent, according to SBR. Here are 7 reasons a first time home buyer in NH should consider buying a condo:

LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION

Condos tend to be clustered closer to our urban centers, so a first time home buyer in NH looking to stay close to the action in Portsmouth, Manchester, Concord or elsewhere can enjoy the advantages of an in-town apartment but keep the benefits of being a home owner.

AMENITIES

Condos can provide a family access to amenities that they are less likely to afford for a home using their first time home buyers loans. Around NH, many condo associations offer access to pools, gyms, sports facilities, clubhouses and more.

MAINTENANCE

Daunted by the idea of managing the upkeep on a home? Condo associations deal with a good portion of the day-to-day maintenance on your property. Families in condos can forgo the costs of mowers, snow blowers, and exterior cleaning, and have more time to focus on the interior of their new home.

PRICING

In New Hampshire and Massachusetts, the average condo price is 25% lower than the average home price, but appreciate as reliably as a home, so families just starting out can have all the benefits of ownership with lower monthly payments on their first time home buyers loans. In fact, monthly payments on condo owners’ first time home loans can often come in cheaper than renting a comparable property as mortgage payments remain steady while rents continually rise.

SAFETY

Condo associations usually provide an additional layer of security over homes with an additional locked entrance, or sometimes even a gate or doorman. Living in closer proximity to others within the condo community helps keep possessions and people safe.

NEWFOUND STABILITY

Condos were hit slightly harder than houses during the economic downturn, and have recovered at a slower rate as many condos were not owner occupied, were considered investments, or acted as second homes. Since then, however, measures have been put in place by the FHA and others to ensure more stability in the condo market, making them more reliable investments than they used to be. In fact, it is now thought that condos in smaller buildings are less susceptible than homes to booms and busts.

A GOOD START

For a family just starting out, a condo can be a good intermediate purchase between renting and a home. First time home buyers in NH can begin to build equity while maintaining less of a financial burden than renting an apartment of a similar size.

At Blue Water Mortgage, we pride ourselves on finding first time home buyers loans that fit their needs and budget. If you are considering a condo purchase, our loan professionals are here to educate and help you through every step of the process. Contact us today for more information.

[Roger Odoardi]

Roger is an owner and licensed Loan Officer at the Blue Water Mortgage office in Hampton, NH. Roger graduated from the University of New Hampshire Whittemore School of Business and has been in the mortgage industry for over 15 years. Roger has originated over 1500 residential loans and is licensed in New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Maine, Connecticut and Florida.

[Get The eBook]

question: What does the text say about buying a mansion?

question: What does the text say about condo sales in New Hampshire and the Seacoast?

answer: At the time of the article, condo sales in NH and the Seacoast have steadily increased over the past year. The month of July was the best month for condominium sales volume in the Seacoast region according to a recent report from the Seacoast Board of Realtors (SBR). Condo units also reached an annual high for the year that exceeded 2013 totals by 23 percent, according to SBR.

question: What does the text say about the benefits of buying a condominium for first-time homebuyers in NH?

answer: A condo can be a good intermediate purchase between renting and buying a home for a family just starting out because first-time homebuyers can start to build equity while maintaining less of a financial burden than renting an apartment of a similar size. Condos in NH and and Massachusetts are also priced 25 percent lower than the average home price, but appreciate as reliably as a home. Families just starting out can have all the benefits of ownership with lower monthly payment on their first-time home buyer loans. Monthly payments on condo owners' first time home loans are often cheaper than renting a property of the same size. Mortgage payments remain steady while rents rise continually.

question: What does the text say about the main benefits to choosing a condo over a house?

answer: Condos tend to be clustered closer urban centers and first-time buyers who want to stay close to the action can enjoy the advantages of an in-town apartment, but keep the benefits of being a home owner. Condos provide access to amenities such as pools, gyms, clubhouses and more. These are amenities that new families are less likely to afford for a home using their first time home buyers loans. Condo associations deal with a a huge chunk of the day-to-day maintenance and upkeep of the property. Families in condos can skip the costs of mowers, snow blowers, and exterior cleaning.


text:
_E. 1999 ETERNAL_ is the second studio album by American hip hop group Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, released July 25, 1995, on Ruthless Records. The album was released four months after the death of rapper Eazy-E, the group's mentor and the executive producer of the album. Both the album and single “Tha Crossroads” are dedicated to him. Following up on the surprise success of their breakthrough single “Thuggish Ruggish Bone”, it became a popular album and received positive reviews from music critics, earning praise for the group's melodic rapping style. The album title is a portmanteau of Cleveland's eastside neighborhood centering on East 99th Street and St. Clair Avenue where the group is based and the then-future year 1999.

_E. 1999 Eternal_ became the group's best-selling album, with four million copies sold in the United States. It topped the US _Billboard_ 200 for two consecutive weeks. The album was nominated for the inaugural Grammy Award for Best Rap Album, ultimately losing to Naughty by Nature's _Poverty's Paradise_ at the 1996 Grammy Awards.[1]

In 2015, the group toured in support of the 20th anniversary of the album, performing it in its entirety for the first time.

Reception

Upon release, _E. 1999 Eternal_ was met with critical acclaim. Cheo H. Coker of the _Los Angeles Times_ wrote that the group “has raised the stakes of the gangsta rap game, not only in terms of pure, gritty excess, but also in rhyme-style, cadence and delivery”, concluding: “This is the kind of album that starts out good and gets better with repeated listenings—as the dark, subliminal references clear up. Easily one of the most worthwhile rap purchases of the year.”[2]

Retrospectively, Jason Birchmeier of AllMusic described _E. 1999 Eternal_ as “an impressive debut full-length that dismisses any notion that the group was merely a one-hit wonder”, adding that it “maintains a consistent tone, one that's menacing and somber, produced entirely by DJ U-Neek, a Los Angeles-based producer who frames the songs with dark, smoked-out G-funk beats and synth melodies.”[3] _The Source_ hailed _E. 1999 Eternal_ as one of The Top 100 Rap Albums of 1990s.

In a second thought review in _Stylus Magazine_, the album was described as “Lyrically speaking, Bone Thugs have much in common with countless mainstream rap acts. The themes running throughout E.1999 Eternal are familiar—drugs, violent crime and death make regular appearances. It's the manner in which the lyrics are framed and delivered that makes the group such a bizarre proposition. Bone Thugs had a melodic flow—frequently delivered in unison—that bordered on singing. They could rap together at a lightning fast pace, without losing their sweetness.” _Stylus_ also praised producer DJ U-Neek for his production style on the album stating “The album was entirely produced by DJ U-Neek (although he did collaborate on some tracks), endowing cohesiveness to the unique Bone Thugs sound. U-Neek was, like the vocal group members of Bone Thugs, unorthodox in the rap field. It wouldn't be far off to describe him as a songwriter as well as a producer. He was always keen to flesh out interesting sounds—usually based around rumbling piano chords, mellotron and synthesised strings. Yet, the focus was largely on song craft and melody—the album frequently strays into gloomy territory, but never loses its sense of tunefulness. The beats were not particularly striking—usually low-key and sluggish, but the album's strengths are not rhythm-related.”

Track listing

Notes

-    signifies a co-producer

Samples

   1.           Title                                                          Samples
  ------ -------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    1.    “Da Introduction”                                        “In The Rain” by The Dramatics
    3.        “Eternal”        “Character Bios Theme” from Eternal Champions by Joe Delia, Adrian Van Velsen, John Hart and Jeff Marsh
    7.    “Budsmokers Only”                                        “Reasons” by Earth, Wind & Fire
    8.       "Crossroad”         “Bad Ending Theme” from Eternal Champions by Joe Delia, Adrian Van Velsen, John Hart and Jeff Marsh
    9.    “Me Killa (Skit)”                                   “I Will Follow Him” by Little Peggy March
   12.    “1st of Tha Month”                                  “I Just Wanna Be Your Girl” by Chapter 8
   13.      “Buddah Lovaz”                                      “Choosey Lover” by The Isley Brothers
   14.     “Die, Die, Die”                                          “Breakthrough” by Isaac Hayes
   16.        “Mo Murda”                                  “I'd Rather Be With You” by Bootsy's Rubber Band
   18.     “Tha Crossroads”                         “Make Me Say It Again Girl Part 1 & 2” by The Isley Brothers

Personnel

-   Eric “Eazy-E” Wright - Executive Producer, Album Concept
-   D.J. U-Neek - Producer, Recording
-   Layzie Bone - Producer
-   Anne Catalino - Engineer
-   Aaron Connor - Engineer and Recording
-   Don Cunningham - Design and Art Direction
-   Tony Cowan - Recording
-   Madeleine Smith - Sample Clearance

Charts

  Year              Chart positions
  ----------------- ------------------------ ---
  _Billboard_ 200   Top R&B/Hip Hop Albums
  1995              1

End of decade charts

  Chart (1990–1999)         Position
  ------------------------- ----------
  U.S. _Billboard_ 200[4]   54

Certifications

[1] Grammy Best Rap Albums Winners. About.com. Retrieved on 2010-08-17.

[2]

[3]

[4]

title: E. 1999 Eternal

question: What might the album have been called if the group lived neat East 98th street instead?

answer: E. 1998 Eternal

question: What can be inferred about the group's tours at the time of the album's release?

answer: The album was not performed in its entirety.


text:
The Civilized

Pushed out into the dusty arena, Kuru looked around. A roaring crowd surrounded him, but he couldn’t understand a word. Though they obviously weren’t cheering for his victory, they’re cheering for his sacrifice.

Rewind, this isn’t where the story begins.

In shackles Kuru shuffled along one of the famed roads that lead to Rome, as all the roads did. All the beaten and bruised men of different coloured skin shambled along the road led by the soldiers.

Kuru heard someone speak something in front of him. He realized that the words were in a language he didn’t understand. Then he heard the voice cry out in pain. The line of men didn’t slow down at the cry though, they kept marching.

Rewind further, something’s still missing.

His daughters tanned skin, his wife was teaching her how to work leather. Kuru was watching them as he sharpened his scythe. He smiled, the scene made him remember the times he spent learning from his father. The proper way to sharpen an edge, the best way to swing a blade, his father taught him the right way to do things.

Kuru would work in their family’s field with his father and they would talk. That’s where Kuru first learned of Rome; the wondrous city, the running water, the books of letters, of laws and democracy.

His memories were interrupted by a scream, then another.

Kuru stood up just in time to greet a trio of soldiers as they entered his home, swords already drawn. He saw a flash of iron and was barely able to dive out of the way as the sword came down where he had just been smiling.

He got to his feet as his family screamed again. The solider that flashed the iron stood between him and his family as the other two soldiers grabbed his wife and daughter and took them from their home.

Kuru was confused, scared and angry, but mostly confused. He didn’t know what was happening. He took a step towards the women he loved but had to jump back to avoid being struck by the iron blade.

Kuru had never fought a man, but now he had no choice. Gripping his scythe, he swung attempting to cut the soldiers legs down, but the soldiers bronze leggings stopped the blade short of flesh.

Pulling back his scythe, Kuru looked at the man’s face. A smile was on his lips as he swung his sword again, narrowly missing Kuru’s shoulder.  Kuru regained his balance in time to catch the soldier’s fist in his stomach.

His breath was driven from his lungs. He panicked, his mouth reached for air as he fell to the ground, scythe fleeing his hands. He heard the solider speak, “Roma Invicta” right before he felt the hilt of the sword on the back of his head.

Fast forward through the chained march with strangers, a march that lead him to the city he had dreamed about, and ended with him entering into the largest building he had ever seen.

 Fast forward to after the sword and shield had been forced into his hands and he was shoved into a dusty arena, surrounded by more people he had ever seen, screaming in a language he didn’t understand.

The sword in his hands felt heavy and as foreign as the words that the people were shouting. He stepped in a circle, seeing a spectacle that he couldn’t have imagined, Rome.

While Kuru didn’t understand the words spoken he could read the faces. They grimaced as they spat angry syllables at him. Fists were directed at him, thumbs pointed downward, fingers sliced throats as he looked at their eyes. Hate, anger, evil was the language they spoke.

He feared the mob that surrounded him, prayed that they would be held back by the massive structure.

Kuru cringed as the crowd erupted, even louder than they had been, deafening him.

A man in a gleaming golden suit of armor stepped out from behind a gate. His muscles rippled beneath the metal, his chiseled face shown only one blemish, a scar from his hairline to his chin.

Slowly the earsplitting noise organized into a chant of ‘Spartacus’, their hero, their God. When the man raised his sword in response to their love for him the crowd’s chant devolved back into a thunderous roar.

Kuru was at a loss, the sword and shield hung limply at his sides as he watched the spectacle. The scene seemed like a dream to him, no a nightmare.

Spartacus, their God, lowered his sword and pointed it in the direction of Kuru who looked to his sides, behind him, looked for what was being pointed at. Then he recognized it was himself. He began to tremble as the people’s idol began an effortless run at him.

Kuru was shocked that he was able to get his shield up in time to deflect a blow from being delivered. He thought the force that was delivered may have broken his arm through the metal that protected it.

The world broke into flashes of metal on metal, pain and blood.

Kuru’s body burned, his chest heaved, blood and sweat dripped from his frame as Spartacus paused to rally his supporters. Even Kuru marveled at what seemed to be a marble carving of a man glistening with perspiration, standing merely feet away with his back turned.

Time slowed for Kuru. He breathed in a breath that felt like ice as the peoples God turned, thrusting his sword into Kuru’s middle.

Kuru looked up into the cold eyes that held the sword. He was no God, he was a monster.

Falling to his knees Kuru looked to his chest, he saw blood leaking from around where the metal entered him. His hands trembled as they slowly reached up to the sharpened blade. In slow motion his fingers wrapped around the blade, red flowing from where they touched it, and pulling the sword out from whence it had entered.

Existence spun in Kuru’s eyes, the hard dirt hit his side. As the world faded to black Kuru heard the name of his reaper cheered.

So this is civilization, he thought.

title: The Civilized

question: Why does the crowd not like Kuru's victory?

answer: Kuru did not win the fight, he was killed during it.

question: Where was Kuru from?

answer: This information can't be found.

question: Why did the soldier try to attack Kuru?

answer: This information can't be found.

question: Does Kuru win the fight or not?

answer: Kuru loses his life during the fight.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer:
Kuru is in his house sharpening his scythe with his family when a trio of soldiers come to fight him.

He was then taken to the largest building Kuru has ever seen. Surrounded by a crowd that spoke a foreign language, he stood loosely holding a sword and a shield.

The crowd cheered for 'Spartacus', their hero. Kuru tries to shield himself from the man's sword but fails. The world around him faded into white.


text:
AMA SUMANI (28 August 1965 – 19 March 2008) was a Ghanaian woman who was expelled from the United Kingdom to Ghana after overstaying her visa while she was suffering from a terminal form of bone marrow cancer and receiving dialysis treatment. It was reported that her expulsion caused her to go without a drug that could have prolonged her life, a drug not available in her native Ghana.[1][2]

Background

Ama Sumani, a mother of two,[3] first came to Wales in 2003 with a visitor's visa. According to her solicitor, with the hopes of getting a degree in economics, she quickly applied for a change in visa status to a student visa and attempted to stay in the U.K. by enrolling in a banking course at a local college in the Cardiff area.[4] Her lack of English language skills and poor educational level prevented her from enrolling. She returned to Ghana in 2005 to attend memorial services for her dead husband, but upon returning the UK, her student visa had been revoked. She was permitted to return to Wales under temporary admission assuming she adhered to certain conditions. She eventually violated those requirements by failing to maintain contact with immigration officials and elusive behavior in moving without updating her contact information.[5][6]

Her illness

By January 2006, she was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a cancer affecting the bone marrow. By January 2008, the aggressive cancer replicated and led to other serious health problems, namely kidney failure. After she refused a medically recommended transplant operation, doctors began kidney dialysis treatment, in order to prolong her life. Despite the pleas of solicitors working on behalf of Sumani, the Home Office of the United Kingdom ruled that due to Sumani “knowingly overstaying her visa”, she was to be “removed the country”. Sumani and her representatives pleaded for compassion, noting she could not afford dialysis treatment in Ghana, which would have cost £2,400 upfront to continue her treatment for three months.[7]

On 9 January 2008, Sumani was removed from University Hospital of Wales in Cardiff and transported to Accra, in her native homeland Ghana.[8] Sumani's situation had drawn international media coverage and would soon become a major cause célèbre in both the UK, the Netherlands and Ghana due to her near terminal deteriorating health condition.[9] Officials noted her forced migration was not a 'deportation' because an expired visa merits void legal status in the UK.[10]

Controversy

In an editorial, the _Lancet_, a British medical journal, decried the decision and wrote, “The UK has committed an atrocious barbarism ... [I]t is time for doctors' leaders to say so – forcefully and uncompromisingly.”[11] Church leaders in Wales, including Archbishop Dr. Barry Morgan and several other bishops were similarly upset, calling Sumani's removal a “breach of her basic human rights”.[12] Mrs. Sumani's solicitor said she accepted her removal was fair but said they had made representations on her behalf on compassionate grounds.[13]

In the wake of public criticism, Home Office representative Lin Homer defended its actions, stating that Sumani's case, while difficult, was not exceptional. She noted, “We deal with many hundreds of cases where the personal circumstances reach and touch the people involved. It is one of the things that makes being a caseworker in the agency a difficult job”.[14]

Sumani's health deteriorated after the removal, as she had not received dialysis treatment for several days after her arrival in Ghana. An anonymous donation of £3,000 was sent by a Dutch resident in Cardiff, and by 20 January 2008, Sumani had begun receiving dialysis treatment.[15] A charitable fund for Sumani's medical expenses was established, and as of February 2008 £30,000 had been donated to the fund. Trudie Styler was reported to have donated £10,000 into the fund.[16]

Death

Despite the kidney dialysis treatments, she was not able to access a supply of thalidomide, a drug that might have prolonged her life.[17] Donors had reportedly raised £70,000 toward her treatments and were able to find doctors in Britain and South Africa to treat her. News of the upcoming treatments reached Sumani on the morning of 18 March 2008.[18] Sumani died in Korle Bu Teaching Hospital in Accra the next day, on 19 March 2008.

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title: Ama Sumani

question: Summarize Sumani's illness.

answer: She was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a form of bone marrow cancer, in January 2006. By January 2008, the cancer spread and led to other health problems, including kidney failure. She refused a transplant and began dialysis treatment. Her health deteriorated after she was removed from the UK, but she was able to resume dialysis treatment in Ghana. However, in Ghana, she was unable to access a supply of thalidomide, which may have been able to prolong her life.

question: Summarize Sumani's immigration status.

answer: Sumani initially came to Wales in 2003 on a visitor's visa, but according to her solicitor, she quickly applied to change it to a student visa. Her lack of English language skills and poor educational level prevented her from enrolling at a local college in the Cardiff area, and in 2005 she returned to Ghana to attend memorial services for her dead husband, and when she returned her student visa had been revoked. She was permitted to return to Wales under temporary admission, but she then violated the admission requirements. She was later removed from the UK and sent back to Ghana.

question: What does the text say about Sumani's parents?


text:
Hey guys, this is my first post. I'm trying to get into creative writing and thought I'd try my hand at a short story, I couldn't think of an idea for a fiction story so just went with a real life experience. I'm used to writing a blog but tried not to make this story sound too blog-like (failed at times)

  But yeah! Notes please

I’m going to tell you the story of the second time I did MDMA. I’ll never write about the first time I did it, simple because I don’t remember it. It played out a lot like the scene in The Hangover where they toast with the shot glasses and then cut-to the next morning. I remember the salty powder on my tongue and then waking up the next morning in my hostel in Berlin. The one flashback I do have is of vomiting on the sidewalk outside the club and one of the bouncers coming and asking me to “please cross the road”.
In hindsight I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to do it again after that less than ideal introduction to MDMA, but I’ll just chalk it up to being a stupid 19 year old. The second time I did it is also, at present, the last time I’ve done it and took place in Amsterdam, September of 2012. If I had to describe the experience of MDMA I wouldn’t use the word ‘euphoric’ I’d say that it made me more stupid and, if nothing else, hopeful even in the most dire of circumstance. It was the afternoon of my fourth day in the city and I’d found a fast friend in an American girl named Vera who was staying at the same hostel. Vera and I went outside the hostel to smoke, were sat at a table overlooking a canal and somehow ended up talking to three loud Australian guys. When you’re overseas and meet somebody from you home country you can generally have 1 of 2 reactions. One, you can jump at the chance of instant camaraderie, “where you from? Oh I have cousins there! Do you miss (insert staple from your homeland) as much as I do? Yeah other countries are weird”.  Or two, you can view them as the human embodiment of everything you do not miss about being home. I would definitely describe my reaction to our new companions as the latter. These guys were on the classic Australians-backpacking-through-Europe right of passage just like me, but I like to think I was a little more subtle about the shenanigans I’d been up to. Vera and I heard four hours of stories about how fucked up they’d gotten every night thus far on their 3 months in Europe, unfortunately for her, Vera had never met any Australian guys before and mistook their oafishness as charm, which is probably why we stayed at that table for so long. Eventually it was 8 o’clock and we’d all somehow agreed to go to Escape (the largest club in Amsterdam) together, we ordered a round of Jägers and one of the Australians whips out a bag of MDMA.

After a few more rounds of Jägers the five of us hopped on two of those bicycle-drawn-carriage things you find in touristy cities and met back up at the club. This is where my memory begins to fail me. Vera and I pretty quickly lost the Australians and started talking to a couple of cute English guys in the smoking room of the club, and then at one point I realised it was just me talking to the cute English guys. I had to find Vera. From what I remember of this club it was 5 identical clubs in 1. And they were all massive and had many different levels and I didn’t like the music coming from any of them. I don’t know how many rounds I’d done of each massive room before a super tall Dutch guy stopped me and asked if I needed help. I’M LOOKING FOR MY FRIEND! SHE HAS BLONDE HAIR! SHE’S
WEARING A PINK DRESS! Super tall Dutch guy and I made a few more rounds of the club before I relieved him of helping me. Somehow I’d been in Escape for 4 hours and so I decided it was time to do just that. I don’t know what it was that drove me to spend 3 hours searching a club with a 2000 person capacity for a person I’d know 4 days, but I’m going to guess it was the MDMA. I’d also blame the MDMA for the fact that I, despite have no real recollection of the ride to Escape or any sound understanding of the layout of this foreign city, felt it reasonable to attempt to walk back to the hostel.
I’d been walking for about an hour and could no longer hear the music coming from Escape, or any club for that matter, when I decided to take a break on a bench outside a small, closed café. I don’t know how long I was sitting there before a man in his late 20s walks passed me, stops, comes back and asks me what I was doing?  “I think I’m lost.” “Where is your accent from?” “Australia” “Where do you need to go?” “The Red Light District”.
Upon reflection, telling this stranger that I needed to go to the Red Light District may have implied certain things about me that weren’t true, but hey, drugs. We end up walking until the sun comes up, fuck knows what we discussed in that amount of time but I do remember him telling me that he moved over from Morocco and sells drugs here in Amsterdam. He told me he likes Amsterdam but he does get homesick, I tell him I’m a little homesick too. We talk about how he learnt English and how I want to learn Italian. I tell him about my travels thus far and he tells me about the time he spent in prison for drug trafficking. He discloses that when he saw me on the bench he was on his way to a big drug deal, the details of which were top secret. I ask him how far out of his way he is going in order to help me? He tells me not to worry about it. By the time we’re approaching the Red Light District my guide knows that I’m 19, from a foreign country, unable to speak the local language and all alone without so much as a working sim card in my iPhone. When my hostel comes into view, the gravity of my situation begins to dawn on me, as much as my fearless, MDMA ridden brain is able to comprehend anyway, and I start to wonder what this man might want. I start fumbling for my keys a few meters from the entrance to the hostel, my heart racing, panic setting in, when he stops.
 “Enjoy Amsterdam friend. Don’t get lost again.” He hugs me and he leaves. I never even learnt his name.

title: The second time I did MDMA

question: Why did the narrator consume MDMA again after a previous unpleasant experience?

answer: It was as a result of being young and dumb.

question: How much of the drug did the narrator consume?

answer: It is not stated.

question: How did the narrator meet Vera?

answer: They were both staying at the same hostel.

question: What was the narrator doing in Amsterdam?

answer: He was backpacking through Europe.

question: In a few words, describe the narrator's companion from morocco.

answer: The stranger was a Moroccan who settled in Amsterdam, learnt how to speak English and trafficked drugs for a living. He once spent time in prison for drug trafficking but, despite that, still maintained the business of drug trafficking.

question: Was the narrator a student?

answer: It is not stated.

question: Why wasn't the narrator excited to be around fellow Australians when he met the Australian guys?

answer: Because the guys were loud-mouthed and exhibited behaviours that were an example of what he wouldn't miss about home.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: During his stay in Amsterdam, the narrator, of Australian origin, made friends with Vera, an American girl staying at the hostel. One day, they met three loud-mouthed Australian guys outside the hostel and subsequently went to a club called Escape. Along the line, the Australian guys offered MDMA to their new companions, and after a while, Vera and the narrator found themselves in the company of two British men. Hours later, the narrator lost sight of Vera and decided to head back to the hostel on foot. On his way, he encountered a stranger from Morocco, a rather friendly drug dealer who helped him locate his hostel.


text:
 I first saw him when I left my apartment on a chilly November night.  He sat beneath a streetlight, his breath flowing from his open mouth like steam from an engine that formed in a cloud before him as he stared at me with shimmering eyes.  He wagged his tail as I neared him, and I could see from where I stood the snarled and unkempt fur that shielded him from the elements.  I had seen plenty of abandoned dogs but there was something almost human about this one.  I stood motionless with my keys in my hands next to my car, preparing to jump inside to drive to my friend's house but something was keeping me from moving.  Suddenly the dog shifted its weight, kneeling onto the pavement on all fours.  I called out to him and patted my leg but he remained still except for his ears which twitched just a bit upon hearing my voice.

   "Come here, boy!"

No response.  While I looked at the milky and endlessly round eyes I remembered seeing a dog like him once when I was younger.  Yes, I had seen a dog in Chicago that had been hit by a car.  Dark almost black blood trailed from the middle of the street where he had been struck to curb next to the sidewalk where I was walking.  The streets had been dead and so silent I could hear his muffled and gurgling breath as he hugged the curb.  I remember him looking at me as I passed. The same milky eyes that The dog under the streetlight had.  I passed the dying dog my way to work though, not taking the time to help it and on my way back home I passed its stiff, lifeless body.  I had always felt ashamed for doing nothing for the dog and wondered if in some strange way the dog was visiting me again.  The dog under the streetlight never took its eyes off me while I thought about all of that.  I came to the conclusion that I was obligated to help the dog under the streetlight so I ran up to my fridge to fetch the half eaten package of bologna that was about to go bad.  When I returned, the dog had vanished from under the streetlight and I stood alone with a half eaten package of bologna in one hand and my keys in the other thinking about how strange life was.

title: The dog under the streetlight.

question: Describe the dog.

answer: The dog almost has something human about him. He has unkempt fur and milky round eyes.

question: What since does the narrator remember when he sees this dog?

answer: They remember seeing a dog just like this one before, and that dog died after being hit by a car.

question: Why is the narrator ashamed?

answer: Because they didn't help the dog that was dying.

question: What does the narrator do after he remembers this event?

answer: They go to fetch some food for the dog.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The text is a short story about a person who sees an abandoned dog. This dog reminds them of another dog they saw dying on the street. They have always been ashamed of not helping that dog, so they go fetch some food for this one, but when they come back, the dog is gone.


text:
He´s back again with his “it´s structural” meme. In 2010, less than a year after becoming president of the Minneapolis Fed, Kocherlakota made a speech in which:

1.  He argued that unemployment was structural and
2.  That if the Fed Funds rate was kept at zero the appearance of deflation was only a question of time!

With regard to (1) he said:

  What does this change in the relationship between job openings and unemployment connote? In a word, MISMATCH. Firms have jobs, but can’t find appropriate workers. The workers want to work, but can’t find appropriate jobs. There are many possible sources of mismatch—geography, skills, demography—and they are probably all at work. Whatever the source, though, it is hard to see how the Fed can do much to cure this problem. Monetary stimulus has provided conditions so that manufacturing plants want to hire new workers. But the Fed does not have a means to transform construction workers into manufacturing workers.

With regard to (2) what he meant was something like:

_With the federal funds rate near zero since December 2008 and expected to remain there for the next year or two, the Fisher equation has important implications for the expected inflation rate. IF THE REAL ECONOMY IS CURRENTLY REBOUNDING TO A SUSTAINABLE GROWTH TREND, the real interest rate will rise and the only outcomes possible will be either a higher nominal federal funds rate or a negative expected inflation rate…_

The operative word is IF, and two years on we know the economy has not rebounded – climbed out of the hole into which it dropped after mid-2008.

So recently Kocherlakota, to be consistent, said that:

  MINNEAPOLIS (Reuters) – Unemployment may not have too much farther to fall before inflation threatens, forcing the U.S. Federal Reserve to respond by raising interest rates sooner than expected, a top Fed official said on Thursday.

  The fact that inflation continues to run above the Fed’s 2-percent target, Minneapolis Fed President Narayana Kocherlakota told the Economic Club of Minnesota, is “a signal that our country’s current labor market performance is much closer to ‘maximum employment’ than the post-World War II U.S. data alone would suggest.”

  The U.S. central bank’s monetary policy “should be responsive to such signals,” he said.

At least he dropped his “low interest rate-spells-deflation” sequence. And his “it´s structural” follows from his reading of the Beveridge Curve, a creation of Lord William Beveridge who wrote the Beveridge Report of 1942 which paved the way for the development of the British welfare state.  The Curve establishes a negative relation between the rate of job openings and unemployment, grounded on idea that if the unemployment rate is elevated firms would find it easier to fill vacancies. If that doesn´t happen, it means that the curve is shifting up, indicating that firms have greater difficulty in filling vacancies.

[]

This could be due to several factors, among them greater difficulty in matching workers to jobs and the persistence of long-term unemployment (which may “depreciate” human capital and/or increase “negative perceptions” about the unemployed by potential employers).

The “mismatch” view is difficult to reconcile with the observation that, with the notable exception of the Leisure & Hospitality sector, employment most everywhere is still way below the pre-recession peak, even though we´re almost three year into the “recovery”. And in no sector are wages differentially rising to indicate that labor demand outstrips supply.

Maybe the high rate of long term unemployment is the main factor behind the Beveridge Curve dynamics. Pity that the JOLTS data only begins in late 2000, so we cannot compare present behavior with that observed, for example, in the deep recession of 1981-82.

The point is that there are always “structural” elements present in the unemployment rate observed. After all, the economy is permanently in motion and all sorts of “frictions” are present. But I believe that for most situations the strength of aggregate demand will help in the adjustment process, so I´m willing to bet that in the early eighties we would not be discussing, like now, about the “structural” nature of unemployment. While between 1982 and 1985 aggregate demand grew on average 10.6%, since 2008 it has only expanded at 2.9%, barely more than half the 5.6% growth observed during the twenty years of “Great Moderation” (1987-07).

So, while in the early eighties long term unemployment averaged 18.7 between 1982 and 1985, it has averaged 35.1% since 2008, having remained above 40% for the last 28 months.

In his mostrecent speech, Kocherlakota introduces new elements of analysis:

  Labor market outcomes do remain notably worse than prior to the recession. The good news is that the unemployment rate has been declining since the end of the recession. But there is also countervailing evidence: The labor force participation rate has been falling steadily, and the employment/population ratio remains near its low point. The Beveridge curve shows considerable deterioration in labor market matching efficiency.

  How persistent will these changes in U.S. labor markets prove to be? Economists hold at least two views on this question. The first is guided by the patterns in post-World War II data for the United States. These patterns suggest that the current deterioration in U.S. labor market performance is indeed reversible under appropriate policy.

  The second view is less sanguine. It says that the post-World War II data do not contain an economic crisis of the kind or magnitude that hit the United States in 2008. Such a crisis could well have a different kind of impact on labor markets than the earlier postwar recessions.

But he fails to make the connection between the magnitude of the crisis and monetary policy. This connection comes out very clearly in the chart below which shows that for the first time since 1937/38, during the second leg of the Great Depression, nominal spending (NGDP) growth – a magnitude directly determined by the Fed – turned negative, and significantly so!

[]

The “Kocherlakota view”, based on NAIRU – Non Accelerating Inflation Rate of Unemployment – is being picked up elsewhere. The latest issue of the Economist drums the same beat:

  But there is another, more troubling possibility: the crisis may have permanently dented America’s productive capacity. If so, the “output gap” between the economy’s current level of production and its potential level is much smaller than expected. Unemployment has fallen because there are fewer people available to work. Inflation is stable because there is less idle capacity to restrain prices. This would be bad news all round. America would be permanently poorer than would otherwise have been the case. The Federal Reserve would have less room to ease policy before inflation revives. More of the budget deficit would be structural, rather than the temporary result of a depressed economy.

As Adele sang: Let´s keep “Rolling in the deep”. To many, there´s now basically nothing monetary policy can do to help the economy come out of the deep hole that bad monetary policy pushed it into!

question: Who is Kocherlakota?

answer: Kocherlakota is the President of the Minneapolis Fed.

question: What is his take on unemployment?

answer: He says that firms have jobs but cannot find appropriate workers. And the workers want to work but cannot find appropriate jobs.

question: How does the mismatch happen?

answer: The mismatch happens due to geography, skills, or demography.

question: Why does Kocherlakota believe that unemployment is structural?

answer: His belief comes from reading the Beveridge Curve.

question: Write a ~7 sentence summary.

answer:
The President of the Minneapolis Fed, Kocherlakota, has made a speech in which he argues that unemployment is structural and that if the Fed Funds rate is kept at zero, the appearance of deflation is only a question of time.

He says that there is a mismatch in the relationship between job openings and unemployment. And with regards to his second statement, he says that if the real economy is currently rebounding to a sustainable growth trend, the real interest rate will rise. Then the only outcome possible will be either a higher nominal federal funds rate or a negative expected inflation rate.

Kocherlakota introduces new elements of analysis in his most recent speech. He claims that unemployment has been declining since the end of the recession. But there is also countervailing evidence.


text:
Back in January, the Dolphins had just fired general manager Dennis Hickey and replaced him with Chris Grier. Now the Dolphins had to find a new head coach. The Dolphins gave interim head coach Dan Campbell a shot but the team decided on Adam Gase.

Gase however was not Tannenbaum's first choice. Tannenbaum wanted to hire Doug Marrone while owner Stephen Ross was ready to make Gase the unanimous favorite. So the Dolphins set sail with Gase at the helm. Tannenbaum and Grier began to put together an offseason plan that would help the team achieve great things. Fast forward to now and the team is just...terrible.

The Dolphins let go of some of their best talent in Olivier Vernon and Lamar Miller. They replaced them with veterans Mario Williams and Arian Foster, both of whom have done very little to help this team. The team then traded back some spots in the draft and were given Byron Maxwell and Kiko Alonso. Maxwell has been anything but stellar and I'm not ready to throw Alonso under the bus yet.

Let me remind some people. Gase and the coaches wanted to keep Miller. The front office should have done everything in their power to keep the talented running back.

Today Gase released two offensive lineman who should have been gone during the offseason.

  Coach doesn't cut 2 guys who started the last game in mid-Oct unless significant roster mistakes made by front office in April, May, June.

  — Dave Hyde (@davehydesports) October 11, 2016

  And another! So many layers to these three cuts today. Mike Tannenbaum told Adam Gase that he had nice OLINE depth. https://t.co/7ebA9Q676Y

  — Matthew Cannata (@FinsInsider) October 11, 2016

Grier and Tannenbaum have control over whom the team signs. Gase is in charge of who remains on the 53-man roster. The team did a terrible job of evaluating talent this offseason. There just isn't much depth on this team and it's showing.

The Dolphins were using a makeshift offensive line on Sunday and had two guys starting who were bad at their job. You can point fingers at the front office and the coaching staff. But some of these roster decisions were baffling by the front office. You can't get better with older players.

We can even look at the Maxwell incident. Maxwell was brought in to be a starter but has been benched. He was a Tannenbaum guy and Gase is not messing around.

We saw this happen last year with Hickey and Tannenbaum. It was to the point they weren't even conversing on team matters. The same may start happening here and Ross is going to have to pick a side. Hopefully it's with Gase.

question: Who did the Dolphins fire?

answer: General manager Dennish Hickey.

question: Who replaced him?

answer: Chris Grier.

question: Are fans happy with this?

answer: They do not seem to be [according to the twitter comments in this text].

question: who did the Dolphins also let go?

answer: Olivier Vernon and Lamar Miller.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The Miami Dolphins have replaced general manager Dennis Hickey with Chris Grier and they've also let go of Olivier Vernon and Lamar Miller. A lot of fans are not happy with these changes, citing myriad games and incidents to prove their points.


text:
KID CREME (born NICOLAS SCARAVILLI, 1974)[1] is a house music producer and DJ, born to an Italian family in Brussels.

Biography

Kid Creme's formative years were spent learning to spin hip-hop and studying music theory and classic piano. After he was expelled from music college in 1991, he decided to set up his own home studio inspired mainly by the London breakbeat scene. At 19 he met Francis Shabard (DJ Murvin Jay) who introduced him to house music and together they secured DJ residencies at Club XXX, the first house club night in Brussels at the Theatre of Vaudeville.

Kid Creme spent four years as assistant engineer at Let's Go Studios, where he met his DJ partner and close friend Vito 'Junior Jack' Lucente. In 1994, Kid Creme set up his own label DTM Recordz and was offered a recording contract deal by R&S Records. At the same time Kid Creme was releasing house records through UK label Drop Dead Discs. It was Kid Creme's house remix of “Boom on Drop Dead” that caught Boy George's eye, and remixes for Junior Vasquez and Topazz followed.

PIAS offered Kid Creme a recording contract deal for his techno productions. He accepted the offer and now records for his label Deluxe Recordings under the moniker Sharpside. Their second release, “Critical Freaks”, gained support with Dave Angel, Claude Young, Pete Tong, Carl Cox and Judge Jules. With Danny Tenaglia supporting track “Belgian Resistance”, Luke Slater using the track “Telsco Drop” on his album and Space Cruising getting signed to Dave Angel's label, Kid Creme's techno productions were going from strength to strength.

In 2001, Kid Creme's first production under that name entitled Austin's Groove was signed to Jalapeño Records, who licensed it to Ink in the UK and Subliminal in the US. Eric Morillo added a Shawnee Taylor vocal on the record. Two following releases for Distinctive, “Niquid EP” and “Down & Under”, did equally well with critics and sales.

Kid Creme came back with a bootleg of Raw Silk's “Do It To the Music” and renamed it “Hypnotising”. The single was released by Positiva and reached number 31 in the UK Singles Chart.

Kid Creme's remix of “At Night”, a song by Shakedown, was _Seven_ magazine's 'Single Of The Week'. When Fatboy Slim played it at the Big Beach Boutique, he was watched by 250,000 people. Upon hearing it whilst visiting her label, Kylie Minogue asked Kid Creme to remix her single, “Love at First Sight”.

Discography

Singles

-   2000 “Austin's Groove”
-   2001 “Private Tools”
-   2003 “Down and Under”
-   2003 “Hypnotising”
-   2004 “Everybody”

Remixes

-   2002 Shakedown - At Night
-   2002 Kylie Minogue - “Love at First Sight”
-   2003 Pique & Nique - “You Will (Miss Me)”
-   2004 Planet Funk - Inside All The People

Mix compilations

-   2003 Junior Jack and Kid Creme In The House (Defected Records)

[1] Hey Mr DJ: What's the name?, _Times of India_ (May 30, 2010)

title: Kid Crème

question: What does the text say about Kid Crème's family?

question: What does the text say about Kid Crème's early life and career?

answer: Kid Crème was born Nicolas Scaravilli in 1974 to an Italian family in Brussels. His formative years were spent learning to spin hip-hop and studying music theory and classical piano. He was expelled from music college in 1991, so he set up his own home studio inspired by the London breakbeat scene. He met DJ Francis Shabard (DJ Murvin Jay) when he was 19 and Shabard introduced him to house music. Together, they secured DJ residencies at Club XXX, the first house club in Brussels at the Theatre of Vaudeville.

question: What does the text say about Kid Crème's career after Club XXX?

answer: Kid Crème worked at Let's Go Studios as an assistant engineer for four years. Here, he met his DJ partner and close friend, Vito "Junior Jack" Lucente. In 1994, Kid Crème set up his own label DTM Recordz and was offered a recording contract deal by R&S Records while he was releasing house records through UK label Drop Dead Discs. His house remix of "Boom on Drop Dead" caught Boy George's eye, and remixes for Topazz and Junior Vasquez followed.

question: What does the text say about the highlights of Kid Crème's career as a DJ?

answer: Kid Crème's remix of "At Night", a song by Shakedown, was Seven Magazine's "Single of the Week". Fatboy Slim played it at the Big Beach Boutique, and 250,000 people ended up watching Kid Crème. Kylie Minogue heard the song while visiting her label and asked Kid Crème to remix her single "Love at First Sight". His single "Hyptnotising" reached number 31 in the UK Singles Chart. Kid Crème also caught the eye of legend Boy George with his remix "Boom on Drop Dead".


text:
_CALADENIA CLAVULA_, commonly known as the SMALL-CLUBBED SPIDER ORCHID,[1] is a plant in the orchid family Orchidaceae and is endemic to South Australia. It is a ground orchid which grows singly or in loose groups and has a singly hairy leaf and usually a single greenish-yellow flower with red stripes.

Description

_Caladenia clavula_ is a terrestrial, perennial, deciduous, herb with an underground tuber and a single hairy, lance-shaped to egg-shaped leaf, long and wide. Usually only one flower is borne on a spike high. The flowers are greenish-yellow to brownish with central red stripes and are about wide. The dorsal sepal is long, wide, linear in shape for about half its length then narrows to a thread-like tail. The lateral sepals are long, about wide, linear to lance-shaped for about half their length, curved like a sickle then narrowed to a thread-like tail. The dorsal and lateral sepals have a yellowish glandular tip. The petals are long, about wide, linear to lance-shaped and slightly curved. The labellum is broadly heart-shaped when flattened, long and wide, greenish to greenish-brown and has three sections. The lateral sections have five or six teeth, the longest about long. The middle section curves forward and has shorter teeth on its edges, decreasing in length towards the tip. The central part also has rows of golf-stick shaped calli along it centre. Flowering occurs from August to October.[2]

Taxonomy and naming

_Caladenia clavula_ was first formally described by David L. Jones in 1991 and the description was published in _Australian Orchid Research_. The type specimen was collected in the Carappee Hill Conservation Park near Darke Peak.[3] The specific epithet (clavula) is a Latin word meaning “little club”,[4] referring to the small glands on the ends of the sepals.[5]

Distribution and habitat

This caladenia grows in sparse woodland and mallee in the Flinders Ranges and Eyre Peninsula regions of South Australia.[6][7]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

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[7]

title: Caladenia clavula

question: What is caladenia clavula?

answer: Caladenia clavula is a ground orchid endemic to South Australia.

question: Where can caladenia clavula be found?

answer: South Australia, particularly in sparse woodland and mallee in the Flinders Ranges and Eyre Peninsula regions.

question: Describe the physical appearance of caladenia clavula?

answer: It has an underground tuber and a single hairy, lance-shaped to egg-shaped leaf, which is long and wide. It usually only has one flower, which is greenish-yellow to brownish with central red stripes.

question: What does caladenia clavula eat?

answer: It's a flower, so it does not eat.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The caladenia clavula is a ground orchid native to South Australia. The orchid, first formally described in 1991, has a single hairy leaf and a single greenish-yellow flower with red stripes.


text:
  I sat in the chair, restrained and left alone for my thoughts to devour me whole. The chair was beautifully uncarved, a masterpiece of nature left unmarred by human hands, yet still uncomfortable enough for a prisoner like me to hate it. It felt like days have gone by in this chair, awaiting my fate, arms and legs bruised from the cuffs that dug into my flesh. My mind was racing, yet muddled; confined by the boundaries that they have placed on my thoughts. Memories repeating, left in a loop for me to regret for the rest of eternity. “Prisoner 339264. Rise for your Arbiter.” The loud hollow voice filled the room and the cuffs released me from their clutches, as I stood for someone who I am to respect, yet have never met. The Arbiter entered through the large steel doors previously hidden by the shadows and motioned for me to take my seat. As I hesitantly sat, the Arbiter began to speak, “You may not know why you are here.” his voice echoed in the large room. “And that is why I have been appointed to you. As a reminder, and as a final decision as to what is to happen to you.” He moved towards the pulpit, and laid out his documents for inspection.

          “What you have done is nothing new, a case like yours comes along thousands of times every year, from insignificant, pitiful people like yourself, to more tragic, meaningful people like that American that smelled vaguely of adolescent character, and the famous writer who was found in his house holding his favorite shotgun. But you are lower than them. Theirs was slightly more understandable, but not you, you had everything lined up for you. Presented on a platter to choose for your own liking. You left children, both legitimate, and illegitimate, in your wake. Open your mouth, what do you have to say for yourself?” My mouth was parched, and my throat was in a knot. “Who are you?” I finally asked. “Me? I am your judge.” He came around the pulpit, walking towards me as the cuffs restrained me again. “Your Fate, your King Minos. I am Your Arbiter. That is all you need to know.” I searched my mind for why I was here; one of the vague memories that have been placed off limits, torturing me with its escape. As he walked back, I gathered the nerve to finally ask the question that has been prying at my psyche. “Where am I, and what am I on trial for? I have a right to know!” “YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS HERE! You have lost all rights when your cowardice came over you, and you took your own life, leaving behind your wife, children, brothers, everything! You gave it all up, and for what? Nothing! And look where it's got you. In front of me.” An evil grin spread like the plague across his face. “I have the pleasure of deciding where you spend the rest of eternity.”

          Shaken, my heart began to race. I didn't know what he was talking about. “What do you mean? I have no children! I cannot even remember what brought me to this horrid place. Explain!” His eyes glared at me, and for once in a long time I felt intimidated. Genuinely afraid of his sick twisted face. Mocking me with his furrowed brow. His voice became eerily soft “There are things that cannot be explained at this moment, what I can say is that you are in limbo. This is where everyone passes as they wait for their judgment. You are here because you have taken your life, and left a wife and a mistress to raise your children.” My memories began to fade into existence, Carmen's beautiful smile, My daughters letters as she learned Spanish abroad, Hector's diligence. I remember. “People like you cause rifts in The Writing. The only thing that cannot be accounted for, you humans have managed to exploit and cause panic not only in your dimension, but here as well.” I finally understand whats going on, its setting in. “Why did I do it?” I asked. The Arbiter replied quickly “None us know, it is the only thing that has escapes us seven for all of eternity. We have seen people do it for pride, out of fear, love, anger, even curiosity.”

          Seven? “Are you the only Arbiter? If not why are you the one judging me?” His face twisted with a curious look, as though he was surprised, yet elated that I wanted to know about him and the others. “As I said before, there are seven of Us. We reign over your dimension and through a combination of us, we form every human being as their characteristics, or “Feelings”. Some people have more of one of us than others may.” “And as to the reason why I am being judged in front of you?” I beckoned for an answer. “Simple, out of the seven of us, I was the one most inflicted by your final moments. More people felt my presence because of you. And that angers me. Why should a human as incompetent as yourself be able to send shockwaves to dozens that I myself am not able to feel?” His piercing eyes, because soft and glazed over. He turned away from me snatching the files from the pulpit and briskly flipping through them. “So what am I to do?! I'm sorry that I offended you, but there must be something I can do to redeem myself!” I was looking for a way out. The outcome of angering this entity could not be good.

          “What you have done is irreversible and irreconcilable. The verdict has been decided. You will return to Earth as your daughter's son. You will be stripped of a father at a young age as you have stripped yourself from your children. You will raise yourself and your siblings, as you left your oldest son to do so without a father. Left to fend for yourself in the tidal wave that you have cause in your past life.” I writhed in my seat at the thought of being sent back to that dreadful place. “NO! You cant send me back there.” I didn't even know what I was afraid of. “There is nothing more than I can do, I have judged according to The Laws. You have done the crime. You must now pay the repercussions.” And with that he faded back into the shadowy corner. As the door closed softly behind him, my cuffs became undone. Rubbing my sore wrists, I began wondering what I should do now. When will my punishment begin? And if there is still a way to get around it. “Prisoner 339264. You have been tried and judged. You know your fate.” And with that a dark fear consumed, and pushed me towards a light. Into a realm so bright, cold and intimidating, it is a wonder how anyone could find comfort in this unrelenting place.

title: A short story I wrote for class titled "Inheritance". What do you think?

question: Why is the narrator in prison?

answer: They are in purgatory and they killed themselves.

question: What will the narrator's punishment be?

answer: To reincarnate as their daughter's son and lose their father.

question: Why is the narrator being punished?

answer: He broke the natural law of the archons.

question: Who is judging the narrator?

answer: One of the seven arbiters who says his name is Minos.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: In purgatory, the soul of a man who just committed suicide is judged by the Arbiter Minos. The Arbiter declares he must return to Earth where he will be stripped of a father and have to raise his siblings, as punishment for the way he abandoned his own children through suicide.


text:
_BARTRAMIA NOTHOSTRICTA_ is a species of mosses in the family Bertramiaceae and is endemic to the south-east of Australia. It grows in small colonies in moist places, and is recognised by its leaves which look like a shaving brush and by its bright green, spherical, lollipop-like capsules.

Description

_Bartramia nothostricta_ moss plants are tall and form dense clusters or “turfs” which are bright green above and brownish below. The stems have a fairly large central strand and there are only a few, dark red-brown rhizoids at the base. The leaves are erect around the stem, standing like the hairs on a shaving brush. The leaves are narrow lance-shaped, long, about wide, have small teeth on the edge and are constructed of two cell layers. The costa or “nerve” is strong, and more or less prominent on the lower side. The capsules are almost spherical, bright green and sit on top of a red stalk. The peristome has short yellowish teeth.[1][2]

Taxonomy and naming

_Bartramia nothostricta_ was first formally described in 1987 by David Catcheside and the description was published in _Memoirs of the New York Botanic Garden_.[3] The specific epithet (_nothostricta_) is derived from the Ancient Greek word _nothos_ meaning “spurious”, “bastard” or “false”'[4] and the Latin word _stricta_ meaning “straight” or “tight”.[5]

Distribution and habitat

This moss species occurs in the Flinders Ranges and Southern Lofty botanical regions of South Australia and in Victoria where it grows on earth banks and near streams.[6][7][8]

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title: Bartramia nothostricta

question: What is Bartramia nothostricta?

answer: A species of mosses in the Bertramiaceae family

question: Where is Bartramia nothostricta endemic to?

answer: South-east of Australia

question: Summarize a description of Bartramia nothostricta.

answer: Tall moss plants that form dense clusters which are bright green and brown.

question: When was Bartramia nothostricta first formally described?

answer: In 1987 by David Catcheside

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Bartramia nothostricta is a species of mosses endemic to South-east Australia. It was first formally described in 1987 by David Catcheside.


text:
The slavemaster sat in his carriage, whipping his slave. The slave had ropes tied around his neck and arms, and he pulled the chariot with him.  His master would sit in the carriage and smoke and drink and gobble up food and would whip the slave with his whip if he ever slowed down. The slave would constantly be carrying the slavemaster around, sweating and heaving for hours every day before the master finally decided to sleep. He would fall asleep on the floor outside the carriage, and the next morning his master would whip him awake and tell him to keep pulling him around.

The slave would have to eat rocks and pebbles and drink his own sweat to survive, while the slavemaster gobbled down turkeys and drank liquor and whipped the slave, telling it to go faster.

One day, while the master was sleeping, the slave got sick of it, and tightened the ropes around his neck and crushed his head onto a rock, killing himself so he wouldn't have to live such an agonizing life anymore.

The master awoke the next day to find his slave dead, and he cried. He sat in his carriage and cried, because his slave was gone. The slave had killed himself because he couldn't deal with his own problems, so he had to cause the master such pain. Now the master would have to walk wherever he wanted, which he wasn't used to at all. It really hurt him.

How could the slave be so selfish? Why couldn't the slave just suck it up or keep living because maybe some day it might have stopped, whatever it was? But instead he chose to selfishly kill himself and leave behind a mess, causing the master trouble. Suicide. Such a selfish thing.

title: Inspired by a recent askreddit thread

question: Why would the master whip the slave?

answer: So that the slave can go faster.

question: Where does the slave sleep at night?

answer: He sleeps on the floor, outside the carriage.

question: What kind of food does the slave eat?

answer: He eats rocks and pebbles.

question: What did the master accuse the dead slave of?

answer: He accused the slave of thinking only about himself and not considering the inconvenience his death would cause to his master. The master considers him selfish.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer:
A master has a slave that drives him around all day. While the slave eats rocks and pebbles, the master would smoke, drink liquor, and eat turkey. Whenever the slave slows down, the master would whip him, telling him to pick up speed. After the day is done, the slave would sleep on the floor outside the carriage while until morning when his master would whip him awake.

At the edge of despair, the slave decides to commit suicide by crushing his head with a rock. After his death, the master was sad and laments the slave's selfishness and lack of concern on how his death might inconvenience him.


text:
Michael wore aviators that he bought at a gas station. Scratched off the label and told everyone that they were custom built by some Italian guy. But after a Google search of Luigi Vespucci didn't yield an Italian eyewear crafter who specializes in American design, they called bullshit. So Michael called them uncultured.

Michael wore Tommy Hilfiger shirts and shorts with his sun-kissed Sperry's. He had yellow, red, purple, and green ones, seersucker, striped, solid, and dotted ones. He thought they made him look devil-may-care. They made him look snobbish. When there wasn't any sun, he hung his sunglasses off the top button of his shirt to flaunt true Italian craftsmanship.

Michael gelled his hair in a supposedly sensual way. On his chin, the goatee that he had been nurturing for over a month (but which he wasn't old enough to grow) struggled to survive. The wispy hairs swayed lazily with every condescending shake of his head. To his face, people complimented his mature appearance. Behind his back, they giggled mercilessly.

But Michael was proud of that emaciated patch of hair. You have to be proud of everything you accomplish when you don't accomplish much.

Unfortunately, Michael was unbearably proud. One time in grade school, he won Student of the Week. Everyone did, a fact that Michael refused to recognize. His teacher bought him a Dollar Tree medal with a frayed ribbon that read "You're #1!" Joy seizing his fingers, he tried to humbly adorn the honor but ended up beaming like the jack-ass he was. In the dull plastic, Michael saw a movie star loved by millions for his philanthropy, a rock legend who cured cancer, and a rocket scientist selling a million copies of his latest fantasy epic, all of which would be child's play for a man of his infinite potential. Right up to the day he moved out, Michael subtly hinted at his worthless trophy to any newcomer in his room until they had to notice it. He never won anything again.

Lack of material didn't stem Michael's bragging. Strutting across the freshly clipped lawns of his private high school, the sunlight glinting off his golden rings, he extolled his sleek new BMW, his sprawling mansion, and (the one time his parents refused to spoil him) even his shitty sunglasses. While his perfectly manicured fingernails tapped lazily against the delicate hairs of his chin, he complimented his own beautifully lush hair, his tasteful outfit, and the masculinity of his beard. One time he exercised; he bragged about how fit he was for a week. He boasted of his humility, intelligence, and creativity, asserting that the only reason he received subpar grades was he didn't give a fuck. Whenever he managed to muster a crowd, he nonchalantly told lavish, made-up tales of drunken glory, pussy attainment, and other forms of badassery.

And as part of building himself up, Michael tore others down. His tone refining into a sharp, sardonic edge, he mocked their modest homes, scuffed cars, and "gas station" aviators. Many times during lunch, he spilled milk on another's shirt and told them not to get upset since it probably wasn't worth much anyway. He criticized the nerds for trying too hard, the jocks for being idiots, and the poor for being lazy (like most rich kids, he felt he deserved his wealth). It was pitiful.

Aside from his reflection, Michael had few friends. Women avoided him like the plague, only touching him with brief glances of disgust. He spent every weekend alone, socializing vicariously through Facebook. Wherever he sat at lunch, others left. Whenever he asked about the upcoming party, everyone silenced. When people did bother listening to him, it was with a slight, mocking smile on their lips.

Michael got the picture. He knew no one could stand him. So, lost and cripplingly uncharismatic, he decided that the only way he could garner friends would be to garner respect.

But Michael did it all wrong. Since people must know what you've accomplish in order to respect you, he bragged. By exposing others' flaws, he validated his own superiority. And dressing himself in the finest clothes and sporting facial hair gave him a mature, respectable look. Or so he thought.

And what started out as subtle actions designed to win the approval of his peers led to mocking. So Michael upped the ante, but that led to more mocking. And this cycle continued until Michael became just an inescapable parody of himself.

By high school, Michael hated everyone else. Hated that they could be themselves. Hated that they all had girlfriends to share their burdens. Fiery tears burning in his eyes, he watched them laugh together, cry together, and poke fun at each other while he stood alone with only a nice care and a nice house and too much money. He pined to join them instead of being this self-absorbed asshole, but they would claim it was just another ruse to prove his superiority. Be it rational or irrational, Michael saw the only way forward as digging himself deeper into the grave he had begun in grade school.

So Michael wore aviators that he bought at a gas station. Scratched off the label and told everyone that they were custom built by some Italian guy. Because no one respects a man who wears gas station aviators.

title: Gas Station Aviators - 892 words, character description (Any feedback greatly appreciated. Could you see this character in a longer story or novel?)

question: Who is Michael?

answer: Michael is a rich kid that no one likes. He is a self-absorbed braggart who lies and brings other people down to build himself up.

question: Why don't other people like him?

answer: He's an obnoxious jerk who hasn't accomplished anything but acts as if he has.

question: Why did Michael have to brag all the time?

answer: He has few friends and thinks bragging is the only way to gain respect and new friends.

question: Why does Michael hate everyone else when he reaches high school?

answer: Because others are able to be themselves, have girlfriends, and have fun together.

question: Write a ~8 sentence summary.

answer: Michael is a rich, obnoxious, self-absorbed jerk who brags, lies, and brings other people down to build himself up. He lives in a bubble where he thinks he's great and cool, but other people can't really stand him. He acts as if he has accomplished something in life, but has done nothing. Knowing others don't like him, he ups the ante. He thinks that more bragging will earn him respect, and respect comes with friends. However, it backfires and people start mocking him. By high school, Michael hates everyone because they can be themselves, having girlfriends and laughing and crying together. He thinks the only way forward is to go bigger - more lies, more bragging, and more BS.


text:
Moratorium sounds like an open space, a thick, black ribbon stretching on above her. She adds the definition in clean, blue letters: still searching.

That’s me, she thinks, pleased that she has a word for it. Moratorium: still searching. The word reminds her of the planetarium, and she speckles the black ribbon with white stars. At the end of the ribbon, there would be answers, little whispers of personality that were waiting to cling to her.

How awful, being a teenager, she thinks gloomily. Not being able to figure yourself out, and seeing the ones who already know it all.
They’re done taking notes for the day. The girl puts her pen down and closes her notebook. Suddenly, she flips to a random, blank page and prints her name in a fast, determined hand.

Who am I is added underneath it, and she scribbles some certainties. Fourteen-almost-fifteen, daughter, sister, student. She stares down at her words, at a loss for what else to write.

I like art and books, she thinks, and daydreaming. She puts the pen down again and sighs. Was she supposed to wake up one day – on her eighteenth birthday, maybe – and know herself? All of this was just a teenager thing, wasn’t it? It’d pass someday.

But what was someday? What did it look like?

Someday could be a star, right in the corner of the black ribbon. She bends over the paper, creates an ink-blue sky. If only she knew where her black pen was. She draws herself, and a question mark.

Today, the school bell sounds faint. She’s in a separate universe, reaching for someday.

title: Moratorium

question: What is the girl going to gain from her actions?

answer:
The girl will be more self-aware of what long term effects or consequences of her actions will be with regards to her future. She has identified her current roles in society and family, and is contemplating on what kind of person she is. This level of introspective analysis combined with her own recognition of the limitations of her age gives her a more objective view of what she might want in life.

The depiction of her adding designs on the paper might be interpreted as symbolic of having a positive outlook. This would mean that she will be thinking about her future with a positive light.


text:
Two she-wolves fought over a limb, snarling and ripping as they did. Occasionally they would forget the corpse altogether, tumbling into the latecomers who (as beggars could not be choosers) were left to dispose of the still-warm innards. The alpha male guarded the face and chest, sitting at ease with paws out in front, eyes constantly on wandering pups who tested his patience. Any pack member he deemed too close was subject to a few lazy swipes of his claws, teeth exposed in a menacing show of rank. Every now and then he would feign a yawn but snap his jaws shut, a loud crack that caused his pups to scarper and the bitches to whimper, blood smeared snouts hidden deep inside flesh.

Not 10 feet away lay a handgun loaded, cocked and impotent. *If a shot is fired in the forest and no one is present to witness it, does it make a sound?* The wolf whose brains now lay spattered over the ruby red autumn leaves, turning them black, would tell you that it *does*. The power in the buckshot had propelled the beast to onto its side and there it had stayed, twitching uncontrollably as it drowned in its own blood. The pack had not mourned, nor were they spurned on to seek revenge. Cold and calculated they had kept formation, following the scent upwind, quickly filling in gaps created by short-lived disharmony. A few adolescent males had stayed with the dying creature however, nuzzling and pawing but once the death spasms stopped and the stump no longer wheezed red, they too slunk away.

The hill they had stalked him up was dense with trees and plants, carpeted with leaves of a range of deep autumn colours. He, clambering, had flustered up a storm of dying debris as he shot round after round into the air (feeble attempts to scare away the horror that haunted him) to no avail. Rustling leaves caught his attention as he fled, every crunch simply fire in the fuel that supported his aching legs. Still, he ran despite the snarls and yelps that seemed to perpetuate from nowhere, pressing fear deeper into his core. The pack had smelled him less than a league away and he had noticed the howls getting closer and closer every minute. It wasn’t until eyes, flashing red in the moonlight, had begun to pepper the darkness of the thicket that he had run. He had still been in possession of his handgun then; it was lost, dropped as they attacked his arms when they surrounded him at the top of the hill, where the silhouetted trees were at the thickest and not even the sound of traffic could be heard.

The handgun had remained unfired until the wolves, 17 heavy rounds in the magazine, something he did not expect; before he followed the trail up through the plains to the forest he had intended to use it on a more human-like target. Police sirens were floating in the chilled night air, faint and feeble as they blared somewhere in the distance, clearly looking in a very wrong direction. A dusty path leading away from the edge of town was the one he had picked in case of emergency and, as it so happened, the once quiet evening had offered him a level of emergence too invasive to ignore. He had taken luck by the hand when the sirens had first screeched at the front door to his cabin. How on *earth* did they find him there? Not even he knew where it was at the best of times. He had not been near civilisation in almost a year, wandering only *away* from the closest town (he selected those who had become lost and dragged them further away), aided by a shittily drawn map pieced together by the hopeful, confessional ravings of his victims.

The police had, of course, broken the door down and found copious evidence but no one to pin it to. Spreading out they had scoured every room, destroying as they went with shouts of ‘The cunt’s not ‘ere, sir!’ and ‘Clear!’ cutting through the thick and musty air. Meanwhile, he had dropped into the tunnel and scarpered, shotgun strapped to his chest, handgun in its holster and the map fucked somewhere on his table. He had been careful, he had rested assured at nights knowing that nothing in the cabin could be traceable or lead to him but now he felt a snagging doubt slipping into his step, corrupting his mind. He would stop at intervals in the tunnel (it lead up through a well just over half a mile after the start of the trail) and freeze, focussing his hearing to see if they had followed him. Like the worst game of hide and seek, no one had followed him and he had finally made it to the well, allowing for his escape to the hills.

“Look at this stuff, sir. It’s him. It’s got to be. That....is *fucked* up” The policeman pointed, a gloved finger raised towards the obscenities (he had once called it his Wall of Fame) that were thumb-tacked to the wood. Each depicted a gory scene of torture, each victim contorted in agony, features distorted in pain. None looked very alive, at least for not much longer after that specific picture. There was proof, you see, thumb-tacked to the wall of fame. The sergeant began to silently remove the collection, one by one, face down. “It’s guys like this that get what’s coming to them.” A woman, now a man, blood and pain, then a child. He looked at it with a hard stare. “Crime is easy. Getting away with it is easy.” Less and less the horror that adorned the wall sullied the cabin’s inside. It had once been a pleasant home to some pleasant people. “You see,” he spoke to his men now. In his hand was a photograph of a girl no older than 20 who was crying, smeared in her own blood. Fingers that had held the photo had left behind a bloody, but clear, print. “You see, it’s not running away from the crime that’s difficult. Any wild animal can run. It’s *living* with what you’ve done that tests you. You look over your shoulder and lie and hate and writhe from the thought of it. You know that one day you will find yourself backed into a corner with a ghost of everyone whose throat you’ve slit or brains you’ve bashed in. Every time you’ve lied, every frown you’ve forced. You know one day that it will all come back to bite you on the ass. Each ghost just a razor sharp tooth in the mouth of a beast you reared. And when they find you, they *will* have their revenge”.

title: Each Ghost

question: What are the wolves eating at the start of the tale?

answer: The serial killer who was trying to escape the police.

question: What are the killer's crimes?

answer: He has kidnapped, tortured and killed a number of people.

question: What does the story suggest te wolves represent?

answer: It is suggested by the police chief that the souls of those who have been wronged will come back in some manner and have their revenge. The story seems to indicate that the wolves are this manifestation.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: A serial killer is attacked by wolves whilst escaping the police, leading to his death. The police discuss how a person's crimes come back to bite them in the end.


text: I love getting lost in myself. Whether it be in a movie, tv show, or a song. I just love finding myself outside of my body. That's when I'm fearless, worryless, and free. I'm not afraid of love, heartbreak, or people discovering my darkest thoughts. I'm passionate that way. I can truly be myself. Sometimes I forget who I am and I end up doing the very thing I wouldn't do. I want to love hard. Feel things. I don't want to numb myself so I won't feel anything. In this moment right now I am me. I am an emotional wreck. I'm not keeping my emotions boddled up. I feel everything. The pain, the joy, the sadness, the disappointment. The ups; the downs; the highs; the lows. I'm me. I'm who God wants me to be every imperfection perfect because he made me this way. I fell in love and I got hurt but its okay because I fell in love with someone who is undeserving of me. Even though I have given up hope I feel that I may love again and it will put ebeything in perspective. It will be so great and so wonderful that I won't remember this pain. It will mend my heart and make it stronger than ever. I just have to lose myself.

title: Loose yourself

question: What are some of the things the narrator likes to lose themselves in?

answer: In a movie, a TV show, or a song.

question: How does the narrator feel about themselves?

answer: They feel they are an emotional wreck.

question: List some emotions the narrator feels.

answer: Pain, joy, sadness, disappointment

question: Why has the narrator given up hope?

answer: Because they fell in love with someone undeserving of them and got hurt.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator likes to get lost in themselves. They are very emotional and feel everything. Though they have been hurt, they hope that they will love again in the future.