text:
The first day of the revolution was not a happy one.

Many of my neighbors were grey with anxiety as we lined up outside City Hall. It had been less than an hour since the military police had thrown down their weapons and surrendered. About a dozen men emerged from the destroyed police station with their arms raised. None were spared. For many of my friends, it was their first time committing murder. You could see it on their faces. Their lips quivered and their eyes sunk under the weight of their Catholic guilt. Despite all their talk, my friends did not yet have the stomach for murder. But I did.

There are many reasons why I was the de facto leader that day as we marched on City Hall. I had always been vocal dissident. I had lost my family and my farm to the regime. There was an American reporter in the village and I spoke the best English. Despite this, I suspect that I was able to lead because I was the only one in the village who had killed before. The thought makes my mouth go dry, but I fear it is true. Numbness to violence may be all a leader needs.

When we arrived at City Hall, I had the men of the town form an orderly line in front of the building. They stood ready with makeshift weapons; mostly gardening equipment. The men who had not fired a shot at the police station were placed closest to the door. They needed to share the responsibility of the revolution. They needed to taste murder.

The mayor and his staff did not leave the building immediately. My friends and neighbors grew impatient under the Latin American sun that beat down on them. I heard them muttering to each other, “Why don’t we drag them out?” or “Can’t we just burn this building down?” I continued to wait. It would be better this way.

After some time, the mayor emerged. He exited the building alone but, as he closed the doors behind him, we could see his staff waiting inside with terrified faces. I stood closest to the door, away from the ranks of townspeople standing before the building. The mayor dabbed the sweat from his light-brown forehead and approached me. He was dressed in his best clothes. I had forgotten that it was Sunday.

As the fat man came to a stop before me, I addressed him by his fist name, “Good afternoon, Guillermo.”

“And to you, Señor Alvaro,” he replied in a calm, subdued voice.
The only other man near us was the American reporter. He scribbled in his notepad, trying to translate despite his weak grasp on the Spanish language.

“It is a lovely day, isn’t it,” the mayor said, as if to himself.

“They are waiting,” I said, pointing to the crowd.

“They do not look very eager, Señor Alvaro. They seem more afraid than I am.”

“Then I will give them strength. That is what a true leader does.”

“A true leader,” Guillermo said thoughtfully. “Tell me, Señor Alvaro, are there any members of the military police still alive?”

I shook my head.

“Once the capital hears of this, they will burn this village to the ground. No amount of leadership can save you from their army. They will destroy each of those men and their farms. They will rape their wives and slaughter their children.”

“These are desperate times, Guillermo. You have pushed us to this level.”

Guillermo nodded sadly. “I am sorry you think that.” The mayor looked up at the gentle clouds and asked, “Is there any way I could convince you to spare the rest of the men in City Hall?”

I shook my head again.

“I didn’t think so.” Guillermo sighed before speaking again. “Very well. Give me a moment to prepare myself and I will go.”

“The people have waited long enough,” I said. “You go now.”

“You arrogant child,” Guillermo said, looking at me with scorn, “thinking you can command a dead man.”

The mayor looked at the crowd for a few seconds. Nobody spoke. Even the wind was silent.

“Are you ready?” I asked after almost a minute had gone by.

“No,” Guillermo said. “But I will go anyway. I encourage you to spare the rest of the men in City Hall. The army may be more lenient if you make this compromise.”

“There will be no compromise,” I declared with conviction. “Maybe greed has corrupted your judgment, Guillermo, but we will not show compassion for evil men. As long as we fight for a just cause, no army in the world can defeat us. That is something you can never understand.”

He did not look at me with disgust, anger, or disdain. Looking into his eyes, I saw sadness.

“Tanto orgullo,” he said to me. “Te destruirá, hijo.”

Without another word, he walked towards the crowd. The men raised their weapons, but none wanted to take the first swing. The mayor did not slow. It looked as if he would walk right through the crowd. At last, one man brought a shovel down on Guillermo’s head. He fell to one knee as blood shot from the wound. Another man struck him in the side and the mayor was on his back. The mob began to form a circle around him.

“What was the last thing he said?” the American reporter said behind me.

“Such pride,” I said as I watched the bloodlust spread through the crowd. “It will destroy you, child.”

title: Such Pride (<900 words)

question: Describe the reasons the narrator was the de facto leader.

answer: The narrator had always been a vocal dissident. They had lost their family and farm to the regime. They also spoke the best English. However, they privately suspect the real reason is they were the only one in the village who had killed before.

question: What happens when the Mayor emerges?

answer: The narrator commands him to go forward to his execution. The mayor warns the narrator that the Capitol will punish his rebellion harshly. The mayor advises the narrator to spare the men in City Hall. When the narrator orders the mayor to die without giving him a chance to collect himself, the mayor warns him that his pride will destroy him, and calls him a child. Then he enters the mob and the mob kills him.

question: What causes the narrator's neighbors to be anxious at the beginning?

answer: There had been a mass execution. A dozen of the military police members had just surrendered. They were massacred and the people were uncomfortable. Their Christian faith was at odds with the act they had just performed.

question: Describe the setting of the story.

answer: The story is set somewhere in Latin America. This is expressed by a reference to the characters' Catholic faith. They also speak Spanish. The one character that is Anglo-American, the reporter, is remarkable for being an outsider.


split: train

text: It’s 8:45, the sun is down and the evening breeze is rolling in threw the leaky windows. A girl with dark hair and a crooked smile is forced out of her Internet binge by a stout orange cat. The cat purrs with a selfish intent. The girl with the dark hair reluctantly stands up. A cool breeze rushes down her legs as she dashes to but on some p.js. She chooses the blue ones. The blue p.js appear to be her favorite. She picks them every time. The girl with the dark hair, and the stout orange cat strut across the linoleum floors towards the kitchen. She drags her finger gingerly along the white wall. Arriving the girl with the dark hair reaches for the cat food. Opening it from the left side she feels the stout orange cat walk between her legs. She pours the food into a silver rimed bowl, just one inch above the top. After placing the food back in the corner the orange stout cat eats her feast. After a quick goodbye pat to her kitty the girl with the dark hair returns to her lair where she rekindles her computer to her lap.

title: The Girl With The Dark Hair And The Stout Orange Cat - Me

question: Is the cat male or female?

answer: The text doesn't say, but most orange cats are male.

question: Why do the blue pajamas appear to be the girl's favorite?

answer: She chooses them every time.

question: What has the girl been occupied with?

answer: She's been on her computer, using the internet.

question: Why does the girl drag her fingers along the wall?

answer: It is not stated.


text:
The night is wrought with tension, the wind is whispering through the trees, telling stories of bloodshed from long ago. One can almost hear the words within the moaning of the wind,

	  Children laughing. Children laughing long ago.
	  Until They came to take and claim,
	  Until the night was painted red,
	  That’s when the laughing stopped.

The full moon shines upon the moor, illuminating a black castle standing tall upon a rock. The empty halls are quiet; all is still except for wind outside that warns of coming storms. The dungeons groan with haunted memories, walls stained an old red-brown.
A little girl wanders in, the castle’s weary doors creak open. She’s lost, the little one, looking for “Big Brother.” The shadows on the walls are whispering, whispering about a little girl whose come from far to visit these forsaken halls. Candles doust and shadows fall, forming claws and hands and the bodies of laughing children in the dark. Faces gleaming, teeth and tongue and eyes and all until a horrid shriek resounds and all is still once more.

The little girl is stood stock still, until she’s sure she sees no more and calls for “Brother Dear.” She walks through ghastly halls of crumbling walls and does not think or care to know of memories so far and dear to places such as here. Broken windows bring in mist that speaks of feasts from long ago and celebrations and cakes and laughter all around, with children in the midst of it. Two children, boy and girl, were once kept here with laughter ringing true to ears and futures were to be admired and hoped for, blissfully unaware about this tired world.

The wretched wind of mourning follows this wandering soul and cries in every corner,

	  Children laughing. Children laughing long ago.
	  Until They came to take and claim,
	  That’s when the laughing stopped,
	  And the traitors were to blame.

Shrieking, howling, wretched wind that whispers when it comes to ruined pictures on the walls and images from long ago… and slips away in silence when the dungeons come to play, where shadows whisper of a boy and girl that turn to scarlet butterflies of beauty, but scar and mark and burn as though hell’s blood is flowing through those wings of molten scarlet thread.
The silence rings and “Brother Dear” is called again, with anxious voice and eyes that speak of reckless choice when this little girl takes one step, two, and ends within the dungeons deep where shadows pounce and butterflies that should bring joy surround and never fail to deploy the plans to take and claim until the laughter sounds again.

The girl stares wide and open-mouthed at butterflies of fiery hue that seem to whisper with their bloodied wings silent words of RUN and FLEE, a repetition of a broken record playing among the dungeon’s dew and shadows full of glee.
Until a beat, another one or two, the cloud of bloodied scarlet wings holds back no more and attacks a little girl whose lost her way within the night, searching for “Big Brother Dear” and wondering at his plight.

When cries of anguish now resound, an older boy steps through and shouts and fights with hardened fists until the cloud of red dissipates and his sister is on the ground, scrambling for stronger hands and arms until she’s safe and sound.

title: Whispers of the Past (short story in creepy/mystery genre but not full-on horror)

question: What is the little girl doing wandering around the castle?

answer: She is looking for her brother.

question: Were children really killed in that castle?

answer: It is possible that the castle is haunted by the souls of the children who had died there in the past. But perhaps it is more likely that the little girl is frightened and is imagining the horror because of the dark and the howling wind.

question: Where do the butterflies come from?

answer: Is it possible that the girl has awakened bats in the dark dungeons? Perhaps she has never seen bats before and thinks that they are butterflies.

question: Was the girl under attack?

answer: Probably not bats are pretty harmless if frightening creatures. Perhaps that is why the brother could easily save her.

question: Write a ~12 sentence summary.

answer:
The night is wrought with tension. The wind is whispering through the trees, telling stories of bloodshed from long ago. And the wind cries of children whose laughter stopped as the night was painted red.

The moon shines on a black castle. The halls are quiet and the dungeons groan with haunted memories. A little girl wanders around lost, searching for big brother. The walls whisper about her. Shadows form the bodies of laughing children. A horrid shriek resounds and then silence returns.

The little girl should flee but she is determined to find her brother. Red butterflies attack her. When she cries in anguish her brother appears and fights for his sister until she rises stronger and safe and sound.


text:
The light rain drizzles down on your Kevlar vest, padded pants, and solid metal shoes. As you walk down the street, the 9 foot wall on both sides flash pictures of the recent violence, and forecasts an 85% chance of violence occurring in the nearby area within the day. As you pick up your pace, the aforementioned violence occurs. Another isolated incident of “gang violence.” The thought of the gun fire barely crosses your mind as you step up to the School House, a giant, looming, drab grey fortress, covered in barbed wire, with armed guards and vicious dogs barking on short leashes. When you step in, several guards surround you.
“Name?” grunts one
“19267” you reply
“ID?”
You pass him the card that contains all your vital information, from address to your blood type, and he barely looks it over.
“Remove the armor and you can enter.”
There is a split second of fear as you remove the bulletproof armor and leggings, but you remember your training, “Don’t think about it, and you will be fine.”
You step into the next room, and there is dead silence. You know no one, and no one knows you.
The intercom buzzes “Please report to first hour. Do not run, and remain calm.”
Your first class is defense.
Okay class, what are the three rules of safety that you always need to follow?” asks the overweight and ever stoic professor.
“Don’t think, and everything will be fine, the violence doesn’t affect us, and we are safe.”
Defense class is repeating this phrase over and over again for an hour and a half. The intercom buzzes again. “Please remain calm, there is an intruder in the build…”
The intercom cuts off mid sentence. Suddenly all of the lights go out. In the darkness, you can make out the shape of your classmates, and the guards that stand in every classroom.
“Remain calm, remember your training,” whispers the professor “everything will be okay.”
But you know better. You know why there is an intruder in the building, you know who she is, and you know how far she will go to accomplish her goals.
Later that day, the School House is ablaze, with only the students standing outside. All of the students are terrified, and are unable to move, paralyzed by fear, with the blatant lie of their training revealed to them. You are the only student who stands alone, staring into the wreckage of the past world. As an ash falls onto your arm, you overhear an intercom spraying the message “Don’t think, and everything will be fine, the violence doesn’t affect us, and we are safe.”
The only thing that you can think of is how wrong that message is.

title: The School House

question: Who is the main character?

answer: 19267, a school student

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: That information can't be found

question: Who is the intruder?

answer: A woman the main character knows

question: What must the main character do before entering the school?

answer: Remove their armor

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: A student, 19267, goes to school, removes their armor, and goes to defense class, which consists of sitting and repeating the same phrase over and over for an hour and a half. An intruder, who 19267 knows, breaks into the school, and later the school is on fire.


text:
Three guards held onto the chains that shackled me. With every step I took an orchestra of chain melodies followed. The chain cuffs on my feet were the start; the handcuffs were soon to follow. Eventually all five chains that prevented me from running came together and formed a harmonious sound.
“Is all this necessary,” I turned toward my good friend officer Barry Kindle “I promise I won’t bite,” I said while mimicking a dog biting towards him.
“You can never be too careful…” he said as he pulled the chain that wrapped around my waist, leaving me breathless “…especially with a psychopath like you.”
Psychopath, I never did like that term. It tends to insinuate that I have some sort of a problem, a disease even. When in fact I am perfectly aware of what I have done and I have no remorse over it. I’m just different than most people.
The bus that stood at the end of my pilmigrage was reminiscent of one I used to ride as a kid on my way to Sunday school. It was white with a hint of rust scattered all about. The seats were torn and to tall for the average person to see over. It was disappointing to know that my last sight of the outside world would come from a spot-ridden plexi-glass window.
“Ready to go Jason,” Kindle said as he leaned over me to push down the window “I thought you’d want some air,” he said as his fake smile turned into a mocking grin.
“I’ll make sure to tell your wife how caring you are..,” before I could finish Kindle’s fist caressed my face. Over and over repeated blows were landing on target, with each one inflicting more of his pain on me. The white floors of the bus were being sprinkled with my blood, as the guards rushed over to try to pull Kindle off. Tears descended uncontrollably down his face as he repeated the name of his lovely wife, Emma.
I can still remember the full moon that covered that night. Fluttering street lights trying ever so hard to illuminate one’s destination, a losing battle in my opinion. There I was driving back and forth trying to find 438 Wintercrest Drive.
“Turn right in fifty feet,” the robotic woman in my GPS demanded. “You’re destination is on the right,” a beep immediately followed, emphasizing that I was here. I had found it. My heart was beating out my chest as my pulse skyrocketed. My grand finale was here and I was determined to make it memorable.
Pavlov had a theory that if you rang a bell and fed a dog the dog would associate food with the sound of a bell. Eventually, all one would have to do to get the dog to salivate is ring the bell. I had done this enough times to know that the bell had rung, and my reward was forthcoming.
I had parked. From what I could determine the neighborhood was a quiet one. Car royalty crowded the streets. Mercedes to the left of me, Porsche to the right and Lexus scattered in between. There I stood next to my Volvo expecting a guy in a golf cart and supped up blue suit to pull up and drag me out of this place. No such luck. No one ever cared to look outside their windows in this new era of ours. Everyone seemed to be confined to their own four walls and the entertainment held within them. Even in the nicer neighborhoods, which I previously visited, no one noticed the guy in the ski mask walking around with a knife.
As expected, there was only one car in the driveway. My good friend Kindle was out chasing another loose end I had fed him. Zodiac had started a trend. It was within our profiles to send packages. According to the profiles the packages symbolized our need to be caught. A need that arose from us not liking what we did. If only I could teach a class to all the forensic psychologists. In actuality we loved every second of what we did, and if we were caught we would miss out on all the fun. We sent the packages as nothing more than a mere distraction, something to keep the cat busy while the mice went out and played. There are two things that I have passion for in life. The first thing is puzzles. I love solving them and working through all the possible solutions until I find one that fits. The harder the puzzle, the more in love I fell. At times days or even years would pass until I witnessed that AHA moment of a puzzle. It was then that I felt most alive. Adrenaline would rush through my veins and a feeling of pride would overcome my otherwise humble self. I had solved something; something had made sense in this otherwise mad world. Once, I had even solved a part of one of the top ten unsolvable puzzles- Kryptos. However, I never earned recognition for that one, Kindle did.
Creating puzzles is my second passion. As a kid I would always attempt to make brain teasers, riddles or even math jumbles. Eventually I gave up. I seemed to have lacked a creative gene and even though I was able to solve puzzles, creating them was not in my blood. Then one day on the television I heard the magic words “Four people were shot today…no witnesses…if you have any details please call….” AHA.
I had found my legacy, my own brand of puzzles. Puzzles that would gather people, garner emotion and would be everlasting; puzzles, which would outlive me and have lost souls constantly searching for answers. I had found the perfect puzzle.
The basement window was open. Just like it had been the past four nights I had scouted the place. I kneeled down and hobbled over towards the basement windows. I could here the annoying sounds of some popular television show rumbling on the inside. I waited for the noise to be loud enough and I slid into the basement making a loud thump as I landed. No one noticed. I tried not to make a sound as the dog went on a barking rampage. He knew someone other than his owner had infiltrated his domain. Emma went towards the dog to try and calm him down. Patting him on the head and re-assuring him that everything was fine. Indeed, everything was fine. My eyes took a while before they accustomed to the darkness of the basement. Soon enough I could see crystal clear with only the moon as my light. There was a lot of useless stuff in the basement, boxes full of pornography. old Wheaties cereal boxes with famous athletes on them, and a cradle that Kindle had made for the baby his wife had lost. All of it was useless now. One foot over the other I made my way towards the stairs, preventing anything from falling along the way. When I reached the stairs I noticed a newspaper clipping that had been pinned to the wall. It read: Barry Kindle solves Kryptos. That however, wasn’t the part that captured my interest. It was the side-story on the bottom right- in eight inch font-that captured my interest. Body of suspected murderer found in river. That was Adam.
Crimes of passion are the junk of our profession. They are always sloppy and never covered up well enough. There is no purpose in them, other than to get back at a spouse whom cheated on you. There is no thrill in them and worst of all, there is always remorse. Adam Keaton was a man suspected of killing his fiancé. He had killed her because he caught her sleeping with another man. As the evidenced was gathered, Adam was released on bail. It was then, that he became my puzzle. A puzzle no one has ever solved.
There are certain rules for creating puzzles. One of which is to make the puzzle solvable, but not easy. I left evidence, heck, I even planted some afterward. However, overworked and underpaid detectives don’t care much about someone who was going to rot in jail anyways. The trick to not getting caught is to not get cocky. Change your tactics. There is always someone looking for the serial who killer who kidnapped, raped and threw five blonde teenage girls in the river. However, no one ever uses all their resources to capture the guy who killed: a suspected murderer, a nun, a child, a homeless man, a bank manager. Each one killed in a different location, and all in different execution methods. The reason being, because they don’t suspect the same guy did it.

title: The Puzzler

question: Did the narrator kill Emma?

answer: It seems like it!

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator is a serial killer who has been taken in for killing his good friend, Kindle's wife Emma. The narrator recalls that he became a serial killer in order to create difficult puzzles for people. He's killed many people but in different ways so no one suspects he is a serial killer.


text:
image copyrightMet Police

image captionThieves used heavy cutting equipment to break into the Hatton Garden Safe Deposit Ltd vault

DETECTIVES HUNTING THE GANG BEHIND THE HATTON GARDEN SAFE DEPOSIT RAID HAVE ARRESTED NINE SUSPECTS.

The contents of 56 safe deposit boxes were taken during the raid in London's jewellery district over Easter weekend.

Twelve addresses in the London and Kent area were raided by about 200 police officers on Tuesday morning.

Nine men were arrested and a number of high-value items were recovered, police said. Searches of the houses are ongoing.

image copyrightMet Police

image captionThe Met is appealing for information about a Transit van with the registration DU53 VNG

Scotland Yard first arrested seven men, aged between 48 and 76. They later arrested a 58-year-old man and a 43-year-old, bringing the total number of men arrested to nine.

Police have also appealed for information on a white Transit van seen in the area at the time of the raid.

The van, with a registration of DU53 VNG, was caught twice on CCTV during the Easter heist.

During a press conference, the Met said it felt officers had been portrayed as the Keystone Kops, while a relative of a victim said finding some of the haul could actually make things worse for those affected, as it could delay insurance pay-outs.

'Stay patient'

Thieves used heavy cutting equipment to break into a vault at Hatton Garden Safe Deposit Ltd, where they ransacked about 70 boxes.

The men were arrested in Enfield, east London and Dartford.

Police said bags containing a significant amount of high-value property were recovered at one of the addresses and they were confident some were items stolen during the burglary.

Head of the Met's Flying Squad, Det Supt Craig Turner, urged victims of the crime to "stay patient", adding police officers would be in contact with them in order "to restore this property back to its rightful owners".

image copyrightMet Police

image captionThe vault was strewn with discarded safe boxes after the raid

He said the investigation had been "complex and exceptional".

In response to questions about why police did not respond to an alarm that went off at the premises during the time of the heist, Det Supt Turner, said: "We are now in a position to confirm that on this occasion our call handling system and procedures for working with the alarm monitoring companies were not followed.

"Our normal procedures would have resulted in police attending the scene and we apologise that this did not happen."

There has been no official detail of what was stolen but it is believed jewellery worth up to £200m was taken during the raid.

Cdr Peter Spindler said: "At times we have been portrayed as if we've acted like Keystone Kops.

"But I want to reassure you that in the finest traditions of Scotland Yard, these detectives have done their utmost to bring justice for the victims of this callous crime."

1.  Thieves break into lift shaft, disable the lift, and abseil or climb down to basement
2.  They use tools, including an angle grinder and crowbars, to force through shutter doors
3.  Using a powerful drill, they then cut through the 50cm (20in) reinforced concrete wall to vault
4.  After seizing jewellery and other valuables from 72 safe deposit boxes, they escape in a waiting van

A relative of one of the victims said those affected were "probably worse off after this morning's raids".

"With the stolen goods vanished, there was pressure on insurance companies to settle quickly to enable holders to trade again," the relative, who did not want to be identified, said.

"But now, with a whole mess of stuff to sort out, it may drag on for months.

"If batches of the stones were mixed up, it may be impossible to reunite them with their owners."

The biggest heist in the UK was carried out at a Securitas cash depot in Tonbridge, Kent, in 2006 when robbers stole almost £53m in cash.

In 2000, police stopped an attempted £350m diamond raid from a display at London's Millennium Dome in what would have been the world's biggest-ever robbery.

More on this story

-   -   -

question: Why did the police department fail to adhere to the call handling system and procedures for the alarm monitoring companies?

question: What are the pressing issues worrying the owners of the burgled jewelry stores after the robbery?

answer:
A gang of robbers used heavy cutting tools to break into the Hatton Garden Safe Deposit Ltd, where they stole about 56 boxes containing jewelry and other valuable materials. The police later apprehended the thieves, retrieving some high-value property and setting up a system to return them to their rightful owners.

The owners of the stolen items are worried about the time it would take to get back their property. There is also the issue of insurance companies who might have to pay so that affected businesses can start trading again as soon as possible. Mostly, the affected business owners are worried about how to get things back to normal without incurring excessive losses in money and customers.


text:
Thread Status:
     This last post in this thread was made more than 31 days old.

1.

      It is unbearable. Problem arose without warning maybe two months ago, and I haven't been able to fix it. I have performed clean installs of latest Space Engineers and AMD Catalyst / driver packages. What information about my machine can I provide to assist in figuring out how to fix this problem? Will link to screenshots of things shortly.

      I am eager to fix this upon the realization of how close a planets update is.

      Edit: Here is a screenshot of it running.

      Edit: Here is some Catalyst Control Center things if it helps.

      Edit: In-game display settings screen. The Window mode option has Window and Fullscreen Window displayed and clickable, but will not leave Window mode. As you can see, there is no option displayed for Video mode.

    Last edited: Oct 23, 2015

2.

      Bump. I'm still having this problem and am still out of ideas on how to fix it.

3.

      What monitor do you have?
      Is it older or have you ever had issues with it with Windows?
      Did you switch from DVI to HDMI cables or anything like that?

      Did you try setting it to full screen?

      Are you running any sort of screen capture software?

4.

      Hi, thank you for your reply! I was starting to think I was gonna have to handle this on my own.
      I have two Dell 2209WA's surrounding a Dell P2210, all set to 1680 x 1050.
      The cables had not been switched between the game working and not working.
      I have changed the video mode to fullscreen window, but it acts as if I had clicked cancel when I click ok or apply. There are only options for windowed and fullscreen window.
      The only software running is Steam, Space Engineers, and a few basic applications that launch on startup (that I have been using since long before this problem developed, and I've tried closing them all first to no avail).

Thread Status:
     This last post in this thread was made more than 31 days old.

 [Keen Software House Forums]


text:
ARCHIBALD JOSEPH CRONIN (19 July 1896 – 6 January 1981) was a Scottish physician and novelist.[1] His best-known novel _The Citadel_ (1937) tells of a Scottish doctor in a Welsh mining village, who later shoots up the career ladder in London. Cronin had seen the venues as a medical inspector of mines and later as a doctor in Harley Street. The book promoted still controversial ideas on medical ethics and helped to inspire the National Health Service. Another popular mining novel of his, set in the North East of England, is _The Stars Look Down_. Both have been filmed, as have _Hatter's Castle_, _The Keys of the Kingdom_ and _The Green Years_. His novella _Country Doctor_ instigated a long-running BBC radio and TV series, _Dr. Finlay's Casebook_, which was revived many years later.

Early life

[Rosebank Cottage, Cronin's birthplace] Cronin was born in Cardross, Dunbartonshire,[2] Scotland, the only child of a Presbyterian mother, Jessie Cronin (née Montgomerie), and a Catholic father, Patrick Cronin. Cronin often wrote of young men from similarly mixed backgrounds. His paternal grandparents had emigrated from County Armagh, Ireland, and become glass and china merchants in Alexandria. Owen Cronin, his grandfather, had had his surname changed from Cronague in 1870. His maternal grandfather, Archibald Montgomerie, was a hatter who owned a shop in Dumbarton. After their marriage Cronin's parents moved to Helensburgh, where he attended Grant Street School. When he was seven years old, his father, an insurance agent and commercial traveller, died from tuberculosis. He and his mother moved to her parents' home in Dumbarton, and she soon became a public health inspector in Glasgow.

Cronin was not only a precocious student at Dumbarton Academy,[3] who won prizes in writing competitions, but an excellent athlete and footballer. From an early age he was an avid golfer, and he enjoyed the sport throughout his life. He also loved salmon fishing.

The family later moved to Yorkhill, Glasgow, where Cronin attended St Aloysius' College[4] in the Garnethill area of the city. He played football for the First XI there, an experience he included in one of his last novels, _The Minstrel Boy_. A family decision that he should study either to join the church or to practise medicine was settled by Cronin himself when he chose “the lesser of two evils”.[5] He won a Carnegie scholarship to study medicine at the University of Glasgow in 1914. Having been absent in 1916–1917 for naval service, he graduated in 1919 with highest honours in the degree of MBChB. Later that year he visited India as ship's surgeon on a liner. Cronin went on to earn additional qualifications, including a Diploma in Public Health (1923) and Membership of the Royal College of Physicians (1924). In 1925 he was awarded an MD by the University of Glasgow for a dissertation entitled “The History of Aneurysm”.

Medical career

During the First World War, Cronin served as a surgeon sub-lieutenant in the Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve before graduating from medical school. After the war he trained at various hospitals, including Bellahouston Hospital and Lightburn Hospital in Glasgow, and the Rotunda Hospital in Dublin. He undertook general practice in a small village on the Clyde, Garelochhead, and in Tredegar, a mining town in South Wales. In 1924 he was appointed Medical Inspector of Mines for Great Britain. His survey of medical regulations in collieries and his reports on the correlation between coal-dust inhalation and pulmonary disease were published over the next few years. Cronin drew on his medical experience and research on the occupational hazards of the mining industry for his later novels – _The Citadel_, set in Wales, and _The Stars Look Down_, set in Northumberland. He subsequently moved to London, where he practised in Harley Street before opening a thriving medical practice of his own in Notting Hill. Cronin was also the medical officer for the Whiteleys department store at this time and becoming increasingly interested in ophthalmology.

Writing career

In 1930 Cronin was diagnosed with a chronic duodenal ulcer and told that must take six months' complete rest in the country on a milk diet. At Dalchenna Farm by Loch Fyne he was finally able to indulge his lifelong desire to write a novel, having previously “written nothing but prescriptions and scientific papers.”[6] From Dalchenna Farm he travelled to Dumbarton to research the background of his first novel, using the files of Dumbarton Library, which still has a letter from Cronin requesting advice. He composed _Hatter's Castle_ in the span of three months and the manuscript was quickly accepted by Gollancz, the only publishing house to which it had been submitted (apparently chosen by his wife sticking a pin into a list of publishers at random).[7] The novel was an immediate and sensational success, launching Cronin's career as a prolific author. He never returned to practising medicine.

Many of Cronin's books were bestsellers in their day and translated into many languages. Some of his stories draw on his medical career, dramatically mixing realism, romance and social criticism. Cronin's works examine moral conflicts between the individual and society, as his idealistic heroes pursue justice for the common man. One of his early novels, _The Stars Look Down_ (1935), chronicles transgressions in a mining community in north-east England and an ambitious miner's rise to be a Member of Parliament.

A prodigiously fast writer, Cronin liked to average 5,000 words a day, meticulously planning the details of his plots in advance.[8] He was known to be tough in business dealings, although in private life he was a person whose “pawky humour... peppered his conversations,” according to one of his editors, Peter Haining.[9]

Cronin also contributed stories and essays to various international publications. During the Second World War he worked for the British Ministry of Information, writing articles as well as participating in radio broadcasts to foreign countries.

Influence of _The Citadel_

_The Citadel_ (1937), a tale of a mining company doctor's struggle to balance scientific integrity with social obligations, helped to promote the establishment of the National Health Service (NHS) in the United Kingdom by exposing the inequity and incompetence of medical practice at the time. In the novel Cronin advocated a free public health service in order to defeat the wiles of doctors who “raised guinea-snatching and the bamboozling of patients to an art form.”[10] Dr Cronin and Aneurin Bevan had both worked at the Tredegar Cottage Hospital in Wales, which served as one of the bases for the NHS. The author quickly made enemies in the medical profession, and there was a concerted effort by one group of specialists to get _The Citadel_ banned. Cronin's novel, which was the highest-selling book ever published by Victor Gollancz, informed the public about corruption within the medical system, planting a seed that eventually led to reform. Not only were the author's pioneering ideas instrumental in the creation of the NHS, but the historian Raphael Samuel asserted in 1995 that the popularity of Cronin's novels played a major role in the Labour Party's landslide victory in 1945.[11]

By contrast, one of Cronin's biographers, Alan Davies, called the book's reception mixed. A few of the more vociferous medical practitioners of the day took exception to one of its many messages: that a few well-heeled doctors in fashionable practices were extracting large amounts of money from their equally well-off patients. Some pointed to a lack of balance between criticism and praise for hard-working doctors. The majority accepted it for what it was, a topical novel. The press attempted to incite passions within the profession in an attempt to sell copy, while Victor Gollancz followed suit in an attempt to promote the book, all overlooking the fact that it was a work of fiction, not a scientific piece of research, and not autobiographical.

In the United States _The Citadel_ won the National Book Award, Favorite Fiction of 1937, voted by members of the American Booksellers Association.[12] According to a Gallup poll conducted in 1939, _The Citadel_ was voted the most interesting book readers had ever read.[13]

Religion

Some of Cronin's novels also deal with religion, which he had grown away from during his medical training and career, but to which he became reacquainted in the 1930s. At medical school, as he recounts in his autobiography, he had become an agnostic: “When I thought of God it was with a superior smile, indicative of biological scorn for such an outworn myth.” During his practice in Wales, however, the deep religious faith of the people he worked among made him start to wonder whether “the compass of existence held more than my text-books had revealed, more than I had ever dreamed of. In short I lost my superiority, and this, though I was not then aware of it, is the first step towards finding God.”

Cronin also came to feel that “If we consider the physical universe... we cannot escape the notion of a primary Creator.... Accept evolution with its fossils and elementary species, its scientific doctrine of natural causes. And still you are confronted with the same mystery, primary and profound. _Ex nihilo nihil_, as the Latin tag of our schooldays has it: nothing can come of nothing.” This was brought home to him in London, where in his spare time he had organised a working boys' club. One day he invited a distinguished zoologist to deliver a lecture to the members. The speaker, adopting “a frankly atheistic approach,” described the sequence of events leading to the emergence, “though he did not say how,” of the first primitive life-form from lifeless matter. When he concluded, there was polite applause. Then, “a mild and very average youngster rose nervously to his feet,” and with a slight stammer asked how there came to be anything in the first place. The naïve question took everyone by surprise. The lecturer “looked annoyed, hesitated, slowly turned red. Then, before he could answer, the whole club burst into a howl of laughter. The elaborate structure of logic offered by the test-tube realist had been crumpled by one word of challenge from a simple-minded boy.”[14]

Family

[Cronin with family in 1938] It was at university that Cronin met his future wife, Agnes Mary Gibson (May) (1898–1981), who was also a medical student. She was the daughter of Robert Gibson, a master baker, and Agnes Thomson Gibson (née Gilchrist) of Hamilton, Lanarkshire. The couple married on 31 August 1921. As a physician, May worked with her husband briefly in the dispensary while he was employed by the Tredegar Medical Aid Society; she also assisted him with his practice in London. When he became an author, she would proofread his manuscripts. Their first son, Vincent, was born in Tredegar in 1924. Their second son, Patrick, was born in London in 1926. Andrew, their youngest son, was born in London in 1937.

With his stories being adapted for Hollywood films, Cronin and his family moved to the United States in 1939, living in Bel Air, California, Nantucket, Massachusetts, Greenwich, Connecticut, and Blue Hill, Maine. In 1945, the Cronins sailed back to England aboard the RMS _Queen Mary_, staying briefly in Hove and then in Raheny, Ireland, before returning to the US the following year. They then took up residence at the Carlyle Hotel in New York City and then in Deerfield, Massachusetts, before settling in New Canaan, Connecticut, in 1947. Ever the nomad, Cronin also travelled frequently to summer homes in Bermuda and Cap-d'Ail, France.

Later years

Ultimately Cronin returned to Europe, to reside in Lucerne and Montreux, Switzerland, for the last 25 years of his life. He continued to write into his eighties. He included among his friends Laurence Olivier, Charlie Chaplin and Audrey Hepburn, to whose first son he was a godfather.

Although the latter part of his life was spent entirely abroad, Cronin retained a great affection for the district of his childhood, writing in 1972 to a local teacher: “Although I have travelled the world over I must say in all sincerity that my heart belongs to Dumbarton.... In my study there is a beautiful 17th-century coloured print of the Rock.... I even follow with great fervour the fortunes of the Dumbarton football team.”[15] Further evidence of Cronin's lifelong support of Dumbarton F.C. comes from a framed typewritten letter hanging in the foyer of the club's stadium. The letter, written in 1972 and addressed to the club's then secretary, congratulates the team on its return to the top division after an absence of 50 years and recalls his childhood support for it, and on occasion being “lifted over” the turnstiles (a common practice in times past so that children did not have to pay).[16]

Cronin died on 6 January 1981 in Montreux and is interred at La Tour-de-Peilz. Many of Cronin's writings, including published and unpublished literary manuscripts, drafts, letters, school exercise books and essays, laboratory books and his M.D. thesis, are held at the National Library of Scotland and at the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas.

Honours

-   National Book Award (U.S.), Favorite Novel of 1937, for _The Citadel_[17]
-   D.Litt. from Bowdoin College and Lafayette College
-   On 27 March 2015 a blue plaque was unveiled by the RCGP at 152 Westbourne Grove in Notting Hill [18]

Bibliography

[Cronin blue plaque]

-   _Hatter's Castle_ (novel, 1931),
-   _Three Loves_ (novel, 1932),
-   _Kaleidoscope in "K"_ (novella, 1933)
-   _Grand Canary_ (serial novel, 1933),
-   _Woman of the Earth_ (novella, 1933)
-   _Country Doctor_ (novella, 1935)
-   _The Stars Look Down_ (novel, 1935),
-   _Lady with Carnations_ (serial novel, 1935),
-   _The Citadel_ (novel, 1937),
-   _Vigil in the Night_ (serial novella, 1939)
-   _Jupiter Laughs_ (play, 1940), ISBN B000OHEBC2
-   _Child of Compassion_ (novelette, 1940),
-   _Enchanted Snow_ (novel, 1940),
-   _The Valorous Years_ (serial novella, 1940)
-   _The Keys of the Kingdom_ (novel, 1941),
-   _Adventures of a Black Bag_ (short stories, 1943, rev. 1969),
-   _The Green Years_ (novel, 1944),
-   _The Man Who Couldn't Spend Money_ (novelette, 1946),
-   _Shannon's Way_ (novel, 1948; sequel to _The Green Years_),
-   _Gracie Lindsay_ (serial novel, 1949),
-   _The Spanish Gardener_ (novel, 1950),
-   _Beyond This Place_ (novel, 1950),
-   _Adventures in Two Worlds_ (autobiography, 1952),
-   _Escape from Fear_ (serial novella, 1954),
-   _A Thing of Beauty_ (novel, 1956), ; also published as _Crusader's Tomb_ (1956),
-   _The Northern Light_ (novel, 1958),
-   _The Innkeeper's Wife_ (short story republished as a book, 1958),
-   _The Cronin Omnibus_ (three earlier novels, collected in 1958),
-   _The Native Doctor_; also published as _An Apple in Eden_ (novel, 1959),
-   _The Judas Tree_ (novel, 1961),
-   _A Song of Sixpence_ (novel, 1964),
-   _Adventures of a Black Bag_ (short stories, 1969),
-   _A Pocketful of Rye_ (novel, 1969; sequel to _A Song of Sixpence_),
-   _Desmonde_ (novel, 1975), ; also published as _The Minstrel Boy_ (1975),
-   _Doctor Finlay of Tannochbrae_ (short stories, 1978),
-   _Dr Finlay's Casebook_ (omnibus edition – 2010),
-   _Further Adventures of a Country Doctor_ (twelve late-1930s short stories, collected in 2017),

Selected periodical publications

-   “Lily of the Valley,” _Hearst's International-Cosmopolitan_, (February 1936),
-   “The Citadel...” _The Australian Women's Weekly_, (9 October 1937) Vol.5 # 18, begin serialization.[19]
-   “Mascot for Uncle,” _Good Housekeeping_, (February 1938),
-   “The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met: The Doctor of Lennox,” _Reader's Digest_, 35 (September 1939): 26–30.
-   “The Portrait,” _Hearst's International-Cosmopolitan_, (December 1940),
-   “Turning Point of My Career,” _Reader's Digest_, 38 (May 1941): 53–57.
-   “Diogenes in Maine,” _Reader's Digest_, 39 (August 1941): 11–13.
-   “Reward of Mercy,” _Reader's Digest_, 39 (September 1941): 25–37.
-   “How I Came to Write a Novel of a Priest,” _Life_, 11 (20 October 1941): 64–66.
-   “Drama in Everyday Life,” _Reader's Digest_, 42 (March 1943): 83–86.
-   “Candles in Vienna,” _Reader's Digest_, 48 (June 1946): 1–3.
-   “Star of Hope Still Rises,” _Reader's Digest_, 53 (December 1948): 1–3.
-   “Johnny Brown Stays Here,” _Reader's Digest_, 54 (January 1949): 9–12.
-   Two Gentlemen of Verona," _Reader's Digest_, 54 (February 1949): 1–5.
-   “Greater Gift,” _Reader's Digest_, 54 (March 1949): 88–91.
-   “The One Chance,” _Redbook_, (March 1949),
-   “An Irish Rose,” _Reader's Digest_, 56 (January 1950): 21–24.
-   “Monsieur le Maire,” _Reader's Digest_, 58 (January 1951): 52–56.
-   “Best Investment I Ever Made,” _Reader's Digest_, 58 (March 1951): 25–28.
-   “Quo Vadis?”, _Reader's Digest_, 59 (December 1951): 41–44.
-   “Tombstone for Nora Malone,” _Reader's Digest_, 60 (January 1952): 99–101.
-   “When You Dread Failure,” _Reader's Digest_, 60 (February 1952): 21–24.
-   “What I Learned at La Grande Chartreuse,” _Reader's Digest_, 62 (February 1953): 73–77.[20]
-   “Grace of Gratitude,” _Reader's Digest_, 62 (March 1953): 67–70.
-   “Thousand and One Lives,” _Reader's Digest_, 64 (January 1954): 8–11.
-   “How to Stop Worrying,” _Reader's Digest_, 64 (May 1954): 47–50.
-   “Don't Be Sorry for Yourself!,” _Reader's Digest_, 66 (February 1955): 97–100.
-   “Unless You Deny Yourself,” _Reader's Digest_, 68 (January 1956): 54–56.
-   “Resurrection of Joao Jacinto,” _Reader's Digest_, 89 (November 1966): 153–157.[21]

Film adaptations

-   1934 – _Once to Every Woman_ (from short story, _Kaleidoscope in "K"_), directed by Lambert Hillyer, featuring Ralph Bellamy, Fay Wray, Walter Connolly, Mary Carlisle, and Walter Byron
-   1934 – _Grand Canary_, directed by Irving Cummings, featuring Warner Baxter, Madge Evans, Marjorie Rambeau, Zita Johann, and H. B. Warner
-   1938 – _The Citadel_, directed by King Vidor, featuring Robert Donat, Rosalind Russell, Ralph Richardson, and Rex Harrison
-   1940 – _Vigil in the Night_, directed by George Stevens, featuring Carole Lombard, Brian Aherne, Anne Shirley, and Robert Coote
-   1940 – _The Stars Look Down_, directed by Carol Reed, narrated by Lionel Barrymore (US version), featuring Michael Redgrave, Margaret Lockwood, Emlyn Williams, Nancy Price, and Cecil Parker
-   1941 – _Shining Victory_ (from play, _Jupiter Laughs_), directed by Irving Rapper, featuring James Stephenson, Geraldine Fitzgerald, Donald Crisp, Barbara O'Neil, and Bette Davis
-   1942 – _Hatter's Castle_, directed by Lance Comfort, featuring Robert Newton, Deborah Kerr, James Mason, Emlyn Williams, and Enid Stamp Taylor
-   1944 – _The Keys of the Kingdom_, directed by John M. Stahl, featuring Gregory Peck, Thomas Mitchell, Vincent Price, Rose Stradner, Edmund Gwenn, Benson Fong, Cedric Hardwicke, Jane Ball, and Roddy McDowall
-   1946 – _The Green Years_, directed by Victor Saville, featuring Charles Coburn, Tom Drake, Beverly Tyler, Hume Cronyn, Gladys Cooper, Dean Stockwell, Selena Royle, and Jessica Tandy
-   1953 – _Ich suche Dich_ (_“I Seek You”_ – from play, _Jupiter Laughs_), directed by O. W. Fischer, featuring O.W. Fischer, Anouk Aimée, Nadja Tiller, and Otto Brüggemann
-   1955 – _Sabar Uparey_ (from novel, _Beyond This Place_), directed by Agradoot, featuring Uttam Kumar, Suchitra Sen, Chhabi Biswas, Pahari Sanyal and Nitish Mukherjee
-   1957 – _The Spanish Gardener_, directed by Philip Leacock, featuring Dirk Bogarde, Jon Whiteley, Michael Hordern, Cyril Cusack, and Lyndon Brook
-   1958 – _Kala Pani_ (_“Black Water”_ – from novel, _Beyond This Place_)–directed by Raj Khosla, featuring Dev Anand, Madhubala, Nalini Jaywant, and Agha
-   1959 – _Web of Evidence_ (from novel, _Beyond This Place_), directed by Jack Cardiff, featuring Van Johnson, Vera Miles, Emlyn Williams, Bernard Lee, and Jean Kent
-   1967 – _Poola Rangadu_ (from novel, _Beyond This Place_), directed by Adurthi Subba Rao, featuring ANR, Jamuna, and Nageshwara Rao Akkineni
-   1971 – _Tere Mere Sapne_ (_“Our Dreams”_ – from the novel _The Citadel_), directed by Vijay Anand, featuring Dev Anand, Mumtaz, Hema Malini, Vijay Anand, and Prem Nath
-   1972 – _Jiban Saikate_ (from novel, _The Citadel_)–directed by Swadesh Sarkar, featuring Soumitra Chatterjee and Aparna Sen
-   1975 – _Mausam_ (_“Seasons”_, from the novel _The Judas Tree_), directed by Gulzar, featuring Sharmila Tagore, Sanjeev Kumar, Dina Pathak, and Om Shivpuri
-   1982 – _Madhura Swapnam_ (from the novel _The Citadel_), directed by K. Raghavendra Rao, featuring Jaya Prada, Jayasudha, and Krishnamraju

Selected television credits

-   1955 – _Escape From Fear_ (CBS), featuring William Lundigan, Tristram Coffin, Mari Blanchard, Howard Duff, and Jay Novello
-   1957 – _Beyond This Place_ (CBS), featuring Farley Granger, Peggy Ann Garner, Max Adrian, Brian Donlevy, and Shelley Winters
-   1958 – _Nicholas_ (TV Tupi), featuring Ricardinho, Roberto de Cleto, and Rafael Golombeck
-   1960 – _The Citadel_ (ABC), featuring James Donald, Ann Blyth, Lloyd Bochner, Hugh Griffith, and Torin Thatcher
-   1960 – _The Citadel_, featuring Eric Lander, Zena Walker, Jack May, Elizabeth Shepherd, and Richard Vernon
-   1962–1971 – _Dr Finlay's Casebook_ (BBC), featuring Bill Simpson, Andrew Cruickshank, and Barbara Mullen
-   1962 and 1963 – _The Ordeal of Dr Shannon_ (NBC & ITV), featuring Rod Taylor, Elizabeth MacLennan, and Ronald Fraser
-   1963–1965 – _Memorandum van een dokter_, featuring Bram van der Vlugt, Rob Geraerds, and Fien Berghegge
-   1964 – _La Cittadella_ (RAI), featuring Alberto Lupo, Anna Maria Guarnieri, Fosco Giachetti, and Eleonora Rossi Drago
-   1964 – _Novi asistent_, featuring Dejan Dubajić, Ljiljana Jovanović, Nikola Simić and Milan Srdoč
-   1967 – _O Jardineiro Espanhol_ (TV Tupi), featuring Ednei Giovenazzi and Osmano Cardoso
-   1971 – _E le stelle stanno a guardare_ (RAI), featuring Orso Maria Guerrini, Andrea Checchi, and Giancarlo Giannini
-   1975 – _The Stars Look Down_ (Granada), featuring Ian Hastings, Susan Tracy, Alun Armstrong, and Christian Rodska
-   1976 – _Slecna Meg a talír Ming_ (Československá Televise), featuring Marie Rosulková, Eva Svobodová, Petr Kostka, and Svatopluk Benes
-   1977 – _Les Années d'illusion_ (TF1), featuring Yves Brainville, Josephine Chaplin, Michel Cassagne, and Laurence Calame
-   1983 – _The Citadel_ (BBC and PBS), featuring Ben Cross, Clare Higgins, Tenniel Evans, and Gareth Thomas
-   1993–1996 – _Doctor Finlay_ (ITV and PBS), featuring David Rintoul, Annette Crosbie, Ian Bannen, Jessica Turner, and Jason Flemyng
-   2003 – _La Cittadella_ (Titanus), featuring Massimo Ghini, Barbora Bobuľová, Franco Castellano, and Anna Galiena

Selected radio credits

-   1940 – _The Citadel_ (_The Campbell Playhouse_ CBS), featuring Orson Welles, Geraldine Fitzgerald, Ernest Chappell, Everett Sloane, George Coulouris, and Ray Collins[22]
-   1970–1978 – _Dr Finlay's Casebook_ (BBC Radio 4), featuring Bill Simpson, Andrew Cruickshank, and Barbara Mullen (rebroadcast in 2003 on BBC 7)
-   2001–2002 – _Adventures of a Black Bag_ (BBC Radio 4), featuring John Gordon Sinclair, Brian Pettifer, Katy Murphy, and Celia Imrie
-   2007–2009 – _Doctor Finlay: The Further Adventures of a Black Bag_ (BBC Radio 7), featuring John Gordon Sinclair, Brian Pettifer, and Katy Murphy

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5] Haining, Peter (1994) _On Call with Doctor Finlay_. London: Boxtree Limited.

[6] Cronin, A. J. _Adventures in Two Worlds_. Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1952, pp. 261–262.

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12] “Booksellers Give Prize to 'Citadel': Cronin's Work About Doctors Their Favorite–'Mme. Curie' Gets Non-Fiction Award TWO OTHERS WIN HONORS Fadiman Is 'Not Interested' in What Pulitzer Committee Thinks of Selections”, _The New York Times_, 2 March 1938, page 14. ProQuest Historical Newspapers The New York Times (1851–2007).

[13] Gallup Jr., Alec M. (2009). _The Gallup Poll Cumulative Index: Public Opinion, 1935–1997_, p. 135, Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. .

[14] Cronin, A. J., _Adventures in Two Worlds_, Chapter 40 (“Why I Believe in God,” in _The Road to Damascus. Volume IV: Roads to Rome_, edited by John O'Brien. London: Pinnacle Books, 1955, pp. 11–18)

[15] Letter quoted in obituary of Cronin in _Lennox Herald_. There is a photocopy of this obituary (undated) at “Cardross and A. J. Cronin Part 3”

[16] A.J. Cronin. The Ben Lomond Free Press (28 November 2007)

[17]

[18]

[19] { url=http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article56325495 }accessed 11 August 2018 page=8 =National Library of Australia}

[20] This article is parodied near the end of William Gaddis's novel _The Recognitions_: see entry for 857.20 at https://www.williamgaddis.org/recognitions/35anno1.shtml. The character called “the distinguished novelist,” who first appears on p. 846, is based on Cronin: see _The Letters of William Gaddis_ (Dalkey Archive Press, 2013), p. 386.

[21] _Dictionary of Literary Biography_

[22]

title: A. J. Cronin

question: What is A.J. Cronin known for?

answer: He is best known for his novel, "The Citadel" which helped to inspire the formation of the National Health Service.

question: What did Cronin think of the medical practice at the time, as reflected in "The Citadel"?

answer: Although Cronin was a doctor himself, he thought the medical profession was full of corrupt and incompetent doctors who did nothing but bamboozle their patients out of their money.

question: How long did A.J. Cronin live?

answer: 85 years old


text:
Britain Football Soccer - England - Sam Allardyce Press Conference - St. George?s Park - 29/8/16 England manager Sam Allardyce during the press conference Action Images via Reuters / Carl Recine

(Reuters) - England manager Sam Allardyce is keen to the leave the door open for foreign-born players to enter the national team set-up and has told British media he would have no problem picking a player who qualified only through residency.

Allardyce had earlier revealed he had hoped to call up Steven N’Zonzi, who has lived in England for six years, but his attempts were thwarted by FIFA because the Sevilla midfielder is ineligible after featuring for the France under 21 side.

The Football Association has previously held discussions over possible call-ups for several players including goalkeeper Manuel Almunia, midfielder Mikel Arteta and winger Adnan Januzaj on residency grounds.

“Do you pick the best squad to win the World Cup, and if one or two of those are like N’Zonzi, do you do it? Or don’t you and then suffer the consequences of not getting to the quarter-final and failure?” Allardyce said.

“The percentage of English players in the Premier League is 31 percent. Surely if you’re going to win something and that player is of the calibre to force his way into that side then you give him an opportunity?

“If he goes out and scores the winner will it be quite that bad?... It’s not my department to find those. We have a department to look at the whole situation at all areas for every international team.”

Former Sunderland and Newcastle United manager Allardyce, who will lead England for the first time in their World Cup qualifier in Slovakia on Sunday, also said taking up the England job was likely to be “the final challenge of a long career”.

Reporting by Shravanth Vijayakumar in Bengaluru; Editing by Peter Rutherford

for-phone-onlyfor-tablet-portrait-upfor-tablet-landscape-upfor-desktop-upfor-wide-desktop-up

question: Who is Sam Allardyce?

answer: The England football manager.

question: What is Sam Allardyce keen on allowing?

answer: He is willing to allow foreign-born players to enter the national team.

question: How many players in the Premier League are English?

answer: Only 31 percent.

question: Which teams did Allardyce manage before?

answer: Sunderland and Newcastle United

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Reuters reports that during an English Football press conference, the England manager said he was willing to allow foreign-born players enter the national team.


text:
* I recently got a job writing short blips up to 350 words. They need to be lighthearted and humorous. Just looking for feedback, as this job does not provide any.

> Owning a dog is comparable to having a toddler for 15 years.  Very recently I dated a girl with a dog, I live downtown and she lives in suburbia to have a nice yard for her "Fuzzy Wuzzy". This wouldn’t be an issue except that every evening had to end at her place so her dog could have a "wee" (side note: it often had a "wee" well before we got there). I’m not saying I’m an alcoholic, but I thoroughly enjoy adult beverages. I like drinking them downtown and then walking home responsibly. However, her dog made this impossible, because every night had to end at her house and her house is not walking distance from the bars. In addition to this, unfettered travel is ruined by dogs. I wanted to go to Vail for a weekend, but again, her dog made this impossible. “What I am supposed to do with my Fuzzy Wuzzy?”  “Fuck.”  Sell the dog and get a cat. Cats shit in box and are perfectly content alone for a weekend with a pile of food and a bowl of water.  Also, you don’t need a yard, and slobber is not an issue, nor is "dog odor".  I feel like all the reasons I hate dogs translates to why I’ll never have kids. I mean, kids are worse. Children stick around a lot longer than 15 years, and people judge you if you leave them home alone while you’re at the bar.

title: On Dogs and Dating [236 words] [Feedback please]

question: What can we deduce about the marital status of the narrator?

answer: He or she is not married and has no children.

question: What else can we say about the habits of the narrator?

answer: He or she loves their routines and does not like anything to disrupt them.


text:
One of our favorite activities together was taking walks in the snow. Winter time always feels sad when you’re alone, but in a relationship, it can be a wonderful time for bonding. Any time it snowed, we made the most of our days off from work or school, gallivanting wherever we wanted to go. Some days it was a trip to the park with the dog, others it was a trek down to the local coffee shop to sip on a glass of warm, sugary hot cocoa. Some days we’d walk with no specific point B in mind, just a chance to enjoy the day and clear our heads.

We had been together for a few months, both fresh out of long-term relationships that had grown dull. We both missed the excitement of starting something new. We missed the conversations over a cup of coffee where we’d explore each other’s minds, learning what made the other tick. We missed the thrill of adventuring together for the first time and planning exciting dates, hoping to impress the other with our hobbies and interests. We missed the walk up to the other’s door and the seemingly infinite moment between saying goodbye and whether or not we would share a kiss for the first time. With each other, we had reclaimed these moments. I would take her to my favorite places, she would take me to hers. On days when we couldn’t drive because of the weather, we’d take our walks in the snow.

The snow sprinkled our bodies like powdered sugar topping a dessert. I grasped her hand through her maroon, knitted wool gloves. We made our way down the icy sidewalk, carefully plotting each step to avoid slipping. I had not prepared for the weather, and the wet snow barged its way through my canvas shoe and into my socks. She kept her body close to mine, giving off a warmth, but not just a physical warmth. The kind of warmth that feels like the bright, morning sun shining in through the windows of your soul. The kind of warmth that makes you want to stay in a moment forever. The kind of warmth that makes you forget all about the flurrying snow, the slippery ice, the wet socks.

My last relationship ended because I was complacent in life. I had abandoned responsibilities, be it in life or to her. I was in a living cruise control mode, just going through the motions, every day the same as the last. I did not concern myself with the future, and I barely paid attention to the present. She had grown tired of listening to me reminiscing about my high school days as if they were the only good times I would ever have. “I don’t think you know what you want - and I know I don’t want this”, she said to me before leaving. Those words ingrained themselves into my memory like a burn mark on a slab of wood.

I had made adjustments for the better, but it still seemed like a charade. Around others, I was a hard-working, motivated young man who learned from his mistakes - but in time spent by myself, I found it easy to slip into old habits. It was almost like a split personality, and it was confusing to tell which was the real me. On the surface, I told myself I’d changed, but deep down, it was questionable. She liked me for who I was, but wanted to be with me for who I’d become. However, the relationship was still fresh, and as long as I was still interesting - she was mine. But was it just a matter of time until my old habits overcame my new ones? Was it inevitable that she would get fed up and leave, just like the women of old?

We made our way to her house, trudging through the frozen, packed snow. We approached a small area of grass in between a pair of townhouses where the snow had gathered rather high, deprived of human contact. “Let’s jump into it!” I exclaimed. She was hesitant, like any other normal human being, she had no interest in getting her clothing wet or catching influenza. I grabbed her by her wool glove again and motioned her towards me. “I’m going in whether you like it or not, now are you coming with me?” She let out a shy laugh and came closer, and we both fell backwards into the snow. The warmth of the moment overshadowed the snow encompassing our bodies, and we giggled like children on a playground. This was new, and I had captured her interest yet again.

And like dropping a coin into a parking meter, I had bought myself a little more time. She would love me a little bit longer.

title: [RO] [Flash Fiction] Your Heart Is A Parking Meter

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

question: What does the story say about the narrator and his new girlfriend?

answer: It appears they enjoy each other's company. They are always together doing something, even if the weather turns sour. They've been together for a few months, both fresh out of long-term relationships that had grown dull. They both missed starting something new. They missed a lot of things, like the conversations over a cup of coffee while exploring each other's minds or the thrill of adventuring together for the first time and planning exciting dates, hoping to impress the other with hobbies and interests.

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

answer: The narrator made adjustments to his life for the better after his last girlfriend left him due to complacency. However, he still feels like it's all a charade. Around others, he was a hard-working, motivated young man who learned from his mistakes, but he finds it easy to slip into old habits especially when he's alone. The narrator thinks what he has is almost like a split personality and he's often confused about which was the real him - the hardworking young man or the complacent one. On the surface, he told himself he changed, but deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time until his old habits overcame his new ones.

question: What does the story say about the narrator's last relationship?

answer: The narrator's last relationship ended because he was complacent in life. He abandoned his responsibilities both in life and to her, living life in cruise control, and merely going through the motions every day the same as the last. The narrator didn't concern himself with the future and barely paid attention to the present. His girlfriend got tired of listening to the narrator reminiscing about his high school glory days as if they were the only good times he would ever have. Before leaving him for good, she told him that he doesn't think he knows what he wants, but she knows that she doesn't want whatever it is they have.


text:
{{ external media | align = center |audio1 = You may listen to “Torna a Surriento” (with Italian lyrics) as sung by the lyric tenor Nino Martini performing with the Alfredo Antonini Orchestra in 1941 HERE}}

“TORNA A SURRIENTO” () is a Neapolitan song composed in 1894 by Italian musician Ernesto De Curtis to words by his brother, the poet and painter Giambattista De Curtis. The song was copyrighted officially in 1905, and has become one of the most popular songs of this traditional genre, which include others such as “'O sole mio”, “Funiculì funiculà”, and “Santa Lucia”.

History

Tradition holds that the origin of the song dates to 1902, when Guglielmo Tramontano, mayor of Sorrento asked his friend Giambattista De Curtis to write the song for the Prime Minister Giuseppe Zanardelli, then vacationing at his seaside hotel, the Imperial Hotel Tramontano; it was claimed that the piece was meant to celebrate Zanardelli's stay.

Some claim the song is a plea to Zanardelli to keep his promise to help the impoverished city of Sorrento, which was especially in need of a sewage system. The song reflects the beauty of the city's great surroundings and the love and passion of its citizens.

More recent research indicates that the song may merely have been reworked for the occasion; family papers indicate that the brothers deposited a copy with the Italian Society of Authors and Editors in 1894, eight years before they claimed to have written it.

Neapolitan lyrics (“Torna a Surriento”)

English translation (“Come Back to Sorrento”)

Other recordings

“Torna a Surriento” has been sung by performers as diverse as:

-   Frank Sinatra
-   Beniamino Gigli
-   Dean Martin
-   Jerry Vale
-   Enrico Caruso
-   José Carreras
-   Plácido Domingo
-   Luciano Pavarotti
-   Ruggero Raimondi
-   Meat Loaf
-   Mario Lanza
-   Franco Corelli
-   Nino Martini[1]
-   Robertino Loreti
-   Giuseppe Di Stefano
-   Muslim Magomayev
-   Francesco Albanese
-   Jerry Adriani
-   Roberto Carlos
-   Alfie Boe
-   Anna Calvi
-   Karel Gott
-   IlVolo
-   Anatoliy Solovianenko, [2]
-   Robertino Loreti
-   Katherine Jenkins and Norton Buffalo with George Kahumoku, Jr.
-   Sergio Franchi covered the song in his 1962 RCA Victor Red Seal debut album, (_Romantic Italian Songs_), which peaked at #17 on the Billboard Top 200.[3]
-   A comedic version by Billy Connolly entitled, “Saltcoats at the Fair”.
-   Claude Aveling wrote the English language lyrics, which are titled “COME BACK TO SORRENTO”. Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman re-arranged it and wrote a new set of lyrics for Elvis Presley (“Surrender”).

Popular culture

-   In the television show _The Honeymooners_, Ralph Kramden identifies the song in preparing for his appearance on a quiz show called “The $99,000 Answer.” He mistakenly identifies it as “Take Me Back to Sorrento” and says it was written by “Ernesto Dequista,” which his friend Ed Norton says is “absolutely correct.”

[1] _Torna a Surriento_ as sung by Nino Martini with conductor Alfredo Antonini on archive.org

[2] 1

[3] http://www.discogs.com Sergio Franchi

title: Torna a Surriento

question: What does the story say about the history of the song Torna a Surriento?

answer: Torna a Surriento dates to 1902, when Guglielmo Tramontano, mayor of Sorrento asked his friend Giambattista De Curtis to write the song for the Prime Minister Giuseppe Zanardelli. It seems that the song was meant to plea Zanardelli to keep his promise to help the city of Sorrento. Recent research suggests that the song is not written but reworked for the occasion.

question: What does the story say about when the song Torna a Surriento was translated to English?


text:
*Written by myself.*

Lubulo, the ruler of the city, was to be found by his farm patch on the southern slope of the Tall Vent. Relu approached him from above, rolling lazily as he did so to take in the heat.

“Word has come from Kallcho,” he said. “They’ve begun evacuating. Even the deepest parts are no longer safe from the burning water.”

Lubulo, who had been tending the thin film of bacteria, looked up and flashed in mild alarm. He pulsated nervously backwards and forwards, before settling down once again.

“They couldn’t have waited a little while longer?” he queried. “We might have been able to at least save part of the city.”

“There was nothing they could do,” replied Relu. “The people on the outskirts were starting to die, and even those by the vents were acquiring burns. They reckon it will only be about a month before Kallcho is entirely uninhabitable. Our own city is now the last one left.”

“Our defences will hold,” said Lubulo. “They *must*.”

Above them, vast nets hung between the walls of the canyon, blotting out the dim light from above. The organisms that grew on them provided a refuge for the city of Yoshlulo from the burning water.

There had always been burning water, as far back as the historians could recall. But where once it had kept near the bright surface waters, it had gradually crept deeper and deeper as did the Green. The higher cities went silent first, many centuries ago. Now they stood deserted. No one had been near them for generations. The bright, warm waters where once one could live without ever going near a lava flow were flooded with the Green, living off the light of the sun, absorbing otherwise useless nutrients and pumping out their toxic gas, dissolving it into the surrounding ocean.

The refugees had come to the deeper waters first in their hundreds, then thousands, then millions as the burning water choked city after city. After the survivors of the journey from Kallcho arrived, there would be no more refugees.

It had been scientists in Kallcho that first bred the organisms that now protected Yoshlulo, the last bastion of civilisation in the world. These gas-eaters not only consumed the burning water, they actively *needed* it in order to survive. Thus far they had been successful, and Yoshlulo had survived.

“Kallcho’s have not,” Relu pointed out, his luminescent cysts sparking and shifting nervously.

“Kallcho is not in a location like Yoshlulo,” replied Lubulo. “They are, or rather *were*, on a volcanic slope. If they had waited for our engineers to arrive, they might have been able to erect better defences. With us, the canyon walls allow us to hang the nets around the entire city. A complete border of protection.”

“And how long will that protect us?” asked Relu.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that we’re sitting on a vent. The city rises by a limb-span every year. The canyon roof is only fifty thousand limb-spans above us. That gives us only a few generations. Eventually we will be too high. The burning water will seep through and the city will die.”

“We will have to leave that to those who follow us,” replied Lubulo mildly. “We have done what we can. The nets are not the only defence. The gas-eaters are also being spread around waters higher up. I have people going on expeditions to plant colonies of them, and to record the progress of existing colonies. They’re doing well. It may be that they are enough to stem the harm done by the Green.”

Time continued its ceaseless march. Yoshlulo was destroyed and the last light of intelligence on Earth went out. The tectonic plates shifted, and all trace of civilisation was swallowed by subduction. Eventually, no evidence remained that it had ever existed at all. The distant descendants of the gas-eaters eventually looked back into the geological past of their planet and found no trace that they were anything but the first.

title: "Oxygenation"

question: What are gas-eaters?

answer: genetically engineered organisms which consume burning water

question: What is the burning water?

answer: lava

question: Who is Lubulo?

answer: the ruler of the city of Yoshlulo

question: How long after this conversation between Relu and Lubulo is Yoshlulo destroyed?

answer: the story does not contain this information

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Relu updates Lubulo on the condition of the city, currently under threat by lava. The pair strategize to preserve the city, deploying genetically-modified organisms called gas-eaters to consume the lava. Generations later, the city is destroyed and all signs of their civilization eventually disappear. The descendents of the gas-eaters repopulate the planet.


text:
SAYLESVILLE is a village and historic district in Lincoln, Rhode Island.

History

The area was settled as a farming community in the 17th century. The historic Eleazer Arnold House (built 1693) is located near the village. The Saylesville Meeting House (built 1704) is one of the oldest surviving Quaker (Society of Friends) meeting houses in New England and one of the oldest church buildings in Rhode Island.

In the nineteenth century William F. Sayles started the Sayles Bleacheries across from Bleachery Pond at the base of the hill below the neighborhood today known as Saylesville. Saylesville was a mill town, largely built by William Sayles's son Frank Sayles as housing for workers and managers from the textile mill then known as Sayles Finishing Plants. Many of the original single and two family homes survive to this day, though more recent additions to them blur the similarity of the original housing stock. By the 1920s Frank Sayles had grown the business, largely based in Saylesville/Pawtucket, into one of the largest textile finishing enterprises in the world. When Frank Sayles died in 1920, the decline of the textile industry in the North East was in its infancy. Textile factories began migrating to the south where labor was cheaper and they were closer to their raw materials. Frank Sayles opened his fourth finishing plant in Asheville, North Carolina in 1927.[1]

[Mill housing, 2017]

The mill towns of Rhode Island were already in decline at the time of the union organizing general strike of textile workers of 1934. The violence did not leave Saylesville unscathed. Several thousand workers picketed the mill, though it is thought that few were from the mill itself. “Saylesville has been the center of much of the strike violence during the week, due, authorities say, in the determination of the strikers to close the finishing plant, whose operatives have refused to join the strike.”[2] The Moshassuck Cemetery on the hill behind the Sayles Complex was the scene of a bloody confrontation between strikers and the National Guard resulting in many injuries and one fatality when the strikers charged the guardsmen who then opened fire.

The mills finally closed in the 1960s.

William F. Sayles, the businessman and philanthropist who owned the original bleachery mills in Saylesville donated the funds to build Memorial Hospital of Rhode Island in Pawtucket.

In the 1920s the village was home to a professional soccer team known as the Sayles Finishing Plant F.C.

Community today

The village is home to the Saylesville Fire District, a combination fire department staffed by career, call and volunteer firefighters. It consists of Ladder 51, Engine 56, Utility 5, and Boat 5. The district covers the Saylesville, Fairlawn and Lonsdale villages and the western half of Lincoln Woods State Park.

Historic district

The Saylesville Historic District encompasses significant residential elements of the central mill village, primarily along Chapel and Walker Streets along Saylesville Pond, and extending west on Smithfield Avenue and northwest on Woodland Court. The public buildings of the village are located primarily on Walker Street, which runs east-west south of the pond. The mill worker housing on Chapel and Smithfield are about 1/2 single-family structures and 1/2 multi-unit buildings, either 1-1/2 or 2-1/2 stories in height, built out of either wood or brick. The company made an effort to relieve the uniformity of other mill villages, where identical buildings are in rows, by varying the locations of similar buildings so they were not adjacent.[3] The Saylesville Meetinghouse, an active Friends worship group built in 1703, is on Great Road beyond the end of Chapel Street, and is not part of the historic district. The district was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1984.[4]

[1]

[2] (Oakland Tribune 9/13/34)

[3]

[4]

title: Saylesville, Rhode Island

question: What is the relationship between society at the time of the article's writing and history?

answer: It appears that humans tend to place value in history. The Saylesville historic district is notable because it is an old village with old buildings -having been built since the 17th century. The volume of activities that the village has been witness to are considered to have historical value; such as a bloody confrontation in the 1930's. As a way of publicly recognizing this value, the National Register of Historic Place has listed the district in 1984.


text:
JAMES EDWARD MACARTNEY (15 July 1911 – 21 September 1977) was an Australian newspaper editor and executive from Perth, Western Australia. He served for periods as editor of the _Daily News_ and _The West Australian_, and was later managing director of West Australian Newspapers Ltd. (WAN) from 1962 to 1969.

Macartney was born in Coolgardie, Western Australia, to Constance May (née Griffith) and Edward Hussey Burgh Macartney. His father, a surveyor, was a grandson of Hussey Macartney, a long-serving Dean of Melbourne. Macartney attended The High School in Perth, and went on to the University of Western Australia, where he edited two student publications, _Sruss-Sruss_ and _Pelican_. He was sent down from the university after antagonising its authorities. Macartney joined _The West Australian_ in 1928, and the following year he was made a cadet reporter. In 1934, he was made editor of the _Broadcaster_, a new weekly magazine published by WAN (the parent company of _The West Australian_). Two years later, WAN bought the _Daily News_, and Macartney became its editor. He remained in the position until 1951, although he took a leave of absence from 1942 to 1945 to serve in the Royal Australian Air Force. He reached the rank of flight lieutenant, and spent periods with the No. 67 and No. 42 Squadrons, flying Avro Ansons and Catalinas in the South-West Pacific.

In 1951, Macartney was appointed managing editor of West Australian Newspapers and chief editor of _The West Australian_, replacing the long-serving Charles Patrick Smith. He left the latter post in 1956, but in 1962 was appointed WAN managing director, serving in that position until 1969. During his involvement with WAN, which had a virtual monopoly on the newspaper market in Western Australia, Macartney largely had his papers adopt right-wing positions, advocating free enterprise policies and supporting Australia's involvement in Vietnam. In 1952, he circumvented restrictions on media coverage of Operation Hurricane (a nuclear test in the Montebello Islands) by sending a team to a remote location near the Rough Range, which was able to capture the only press photographs of the event. After leaving WAN, Macartney began working as a consultant for STW Channel 9. He was employed in other consulting roles until his death from cancer in September 1977. Macartney had been married twice, firstly in 1932 to Edith Flanagan, with whom he had three children. He was divorced in 1941, and remarried to Margaret Bessell-Browne (née Bennett) in 1946, with whom he had another two children.

title: Jim Macartney

question: Describe Jim Macartney's personal life.

answer: He was married twice: first to Edith Flanagan, with whom he had three children, and then to Margaret Bessell-Browne, which whom he had two children.

question: Where was Jim Macartney born?

answer: Coolgardie, Western Australia

question: How did Jim Macartney die?

answer: He died of cancer.

question: What is Sruss-Sruss?

answer: A student publication at the University of Western Australia that Jim Macartney edited.

question: What publications did Jim Macartney serve as editor for?

answer: Sruss-Sruss, Pelican, the Broadcaster, the Daily News, the West Australian

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Jim Macartney was an Australian newspaper editor and executive. He served as editor for the Daily News and the West Australian and also was the managing director of West Australian Newspapers Ltd.


text:
[072116 Giaritelli rosie tweets pic]

"I was not choosing to over donate," Rosie O'Donnellsaid in an email. “I don’t look to see who I can donate most to … I just donate assuming they do not accept what is over the limit."
(Photo by Evan Agostini/Invision/AP, File)

Actress Rosie O'Donnell was found to have given Democrats campaign donations that exceed the legal limit.

The most that an individual can give to a candidate is $2,700 per election contest. An analysis of campaign filings by the New York Post found that the actress, who leans liberal, gave a combined $5,400 above the limit to five candidates.

In her defense, O'Donnell said she didn't intend to act nefariously.

"I was not choosing to over donate," she said in an email to the Post. “I don’t look to see who I can donate most to … I just donate assuming they do not accept what is over the limit."

O'Donnell, a prominent critic of President Trump, said she donated money through the liberal online fundraising platform ActBlue and assumed it would limit her donations once she reached the maximum amount.

Among the candidates she gave too much money were Reps. Adam Schiff, D-Calif., Conor Lamb, D-Pa., and Alabama Sen. Doug Jones, whose opponent faced accusations of sexual misconduct with minors.

The report said in total O'Donnell gave more than $90,000 during the 2017-2018 election cycle to 50 candidates and committees, citing filings. Though both O'Donnell and the candidates who received oversized funds are legally liable, the report said they are unlikely to get penalized for breaking Federal Election Commission rules as the money can be redirected, including through a refund or toward a different election.

question: Why did O'Donnell over donate?

answer: O'Donnell did not intend to exceed the donation limit, assuming the service used for donations would simply decline anything over the legal limit.

question: What are the consequences for over-donating?

answer: The donator and the recipient of the donation are both legally liable, but the details of that liability are not detailed in the article.

question: Who is more liable, O'Donnell or the donation recipients?

answer: They are equally liable.

question: Why did O'Donnell donate to these candidates?

answer: O'Donnell is described as as being politically outspoken, meaning she is politically active, and donating to the candidates she supports is a natural part of that.


text:
The domain  digitaldreamsfest.ca    is for sale.

The domain name (without content) is available for sale by its owner through Sedo's Domain Marketplace. All stated prices are final prices.

To purchase this .ca domain you must comply with the Canadian Presence Requirements for Registrants (http://www.cira.ca/assets/Documents/Legal/Registrants/CPR.pdf) and have a working Cira number. This number can only be obtained from a registrar. Due to transfer processes for the .ca extension, ownership transfer may exceed our standard transfer time frame.

The domain  digitaldreamsfest.ca    is for sale.

Buy this domain

You are not the highest bidder!

Your best offer

The current price of DIGITALDREAMSFEST.CA is .

You can place an offer below the seller's listing price, however the seller will only respond if they are interested in negotiating based on this offer.

Any offer you submit is binding for seven (7) days.

question: Which domain is for sale?

answer: digitaldreamsfest.ca

question: What must a person comply with to purchase this domain?

answer: With the Canadian Presence Requirements for Registrants

question: How can a person obtain a Cira number?

answer: From a registrar.

question: How many days is the offer a person submits binding for?

answer: Seven days

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The text is an ad informing that the domain digitaldreamsfest.ca is for sale.


text:
The fourth season of the reality television series _Basketball Wives LA_ aired on VH1 from July 12, 2015 until October 11, 2015.[1] It follows the lives of a group of women who have all been somehow romantically linked to professional basketball players.

It was executively produced by Pam Healey, Sean Rankine, Amanda Scott, Shaunie O'Neal, Mark Seliga, and Lisa Shannon.

Production

_Basketball Wives LA_ was revealed on June 20, 2011, with Kimsha Artest, Gloria Govan, Laura Govan, Jackie Christie and Imani Showalter as the cast.[2] Malaysia Pargo and Draya Michele were announced as part of the cast in the series' July 2011 press release.[3] Kimsha Artest stopped showing up for filming because she did not agree with the “shenanigans and drama”, which explains why she was not featured in more than one episode.[4] Tanya Williams was to be the eighth official “wife” but left the series after two episodes.[5] The series premiered on August 29, 2011, to 1.81 million viewers.[6]

Cast

Main

-   Malaysia Pargo: Wife of Jannero Pargo
-   Draya Michele: Girlfriend of Orlando Scandrick
-   Brandi Maxiell: Wife of Jason Maxiell
-   Mehgan James: Ex-Girlfriend of Kedrick Brown
-   Jackie Christie: Wife of Doug Christie
-   Shaunie O'Neal: Ex-Wife of Shaquille O’Neal

Recurring Cast

-   Tami Roman: Ex-Wife of Kenny Anderson
-   Angel Brinks: Ex-Girlfriend of Tyreke Evans
-   Patrice Curry: Wife of Eddy Curry

Episodes

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: Basketball Wives LA (season 4)

question: When did the fourth season of Basketball Wives air?

answer: July 12, 2015-October 11, 2015.

question: Which channel aired it?

answer: VH1.

question: How many episodes were there?

answer: 6.

question: When did the series air?

answer: June 20, 2011.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The fourth season of Basketball Wives aired on VH1 from July 12, 2015-October 11, 2015.


text:
The BACCHU-BER is a traditional folk dance performed with swords. This dance takes place in the district of Pont-de-Cervières, city of Briançon (Hautes-Alpes, France). Its origin dates back to many centuries ago (first written confirmation in 1730). This folk dance is unique in France and is one of the rare sword dances that have stood the test of time.[1][2] It is performed once a year on 16 August, day of Saint Roch (1340–1379), patron of the Pont-de-Cervières district. Similar shows are performed on the Italian side of the Cottian Alps, notably in San Giorio, Fenestrelle and Giaglione villages. 300px|thumb|upright=2|The Bacchu-ber, 16 August 2003

Origins

[Bacchu-bert rehearsal, 1877] The origin of the dance is almost impossible to determine: it might be a dance of Celtic, Roman, Greek, Flemish, etc. origin. One could argue that the name of this dance evokes the god Bacchus but this remains unproven.

As the dance is performed on the feast-day of Saint Roch, who is traditionally invoked in times of plague, some experts argue that survivors of the plague in Pont-de-Cervières would have chosen this Saint as patron of their district. However, there has never been any mention of a vow being made to perform a special dance on this particular saint's day.[3]

Description

The dance is performed by 9 male dancers who are dressed in white with a small bow tie, a large red cummerbund around the waist and black dancing pumps. The men form a circle, nod to each other and move and interlock their swords in geometrical patterns.

Each man holds the point of the sword of another dancer and the hilt of his own. All dance at a sliding rhythmic pace (a series of 3 small steps). Raising the swords, and passing under them, they form various shapes such as 3 triangles, a rectangle and a star, 2 rectangles, a star and a triangle, etc.

[The Bacchu-ber:la lève; 16 August 2003] The final form, called « la lève », is composed of a circle of dancers, one of them being at the centre, with the swords interlocked around his neck. All dancers kneel down simultaneously and all rise together several times. In the summer of 1936 Albert Lebrun, President of the French Republic, attended a performance of the dance.[4]

During both world wars the Bacchu-ber was not performed.

In 2003, for a commemoration, the Bacchu-ber was exceptionally performed by 2 circles of dancers (usually only one).

Song of the dance

The performance is accompanied by a repetitive song consisting of meaningless “scat” syllables commonly called the “Dratanla”. It is sung by about 10 women wearing the traditional clothing of Pont-de-Cervières. Women usually sing seated on a bench but have been known to sing standing up.

The traditional clothing is composed of a white cotton bonnet with a knot under the chin, a shawl worn over a blouse and a dark grey skirt (with small Provence patterns) with an elastic around the waist. An apron is tied over the skirt and holds the shawl in place.

thumb|upright=2|The Bacchu-ber song, 1895 Approximate current words of the song:

    La dratanla la dra, la dratanla, la
    La dratanla, la dra, la dratanla,
    Et dralala, la dratanla, la dra la,
    La dratanla, la dratata la dra,
    La dratanla, la dra,
    La dratanla, la dratanla, la dra, la la dra.

Dancing venue

The dance is usually performed twice on a lower wooden stage and lasts about 20 minutes. The first performance is given at the top of the Pont-de-Cervières village, on the Church Square (where stands the Church Saint Roch & Saint Marcellus). Then dancers, singers and audience walk down the Bacchu-ber Street to reach the Jean Jaurès Square where the dance is performed a second time.

In older times, the dance was performed three times.

Associations

Founded in 1935, the Society of the Bacchu-ber Admirers manages the organisation of the event. The current President is Frédéric Arnaud.

Publications

-   Abel Hugo, _La France pittoresque, ou Description pittoresque, topographique et statistique des départements et colonies de la France... avec des notes sur les langues, idiomes et patois... et des renseignements statistiques... accompagnée de la statistique générale de la France..._, Paris, Delloye, 1835 (chapter Hautes-Alpes, page 354).
-   Paul Guillemin, “Le Bacchu-ber, essai historique et archéologique”, Bulletin de la section lyonnaise, n° 1, 1878, imprimerie de Pitrat aîné, Club Alpin français.
-   Julien Tiersot, _Chansons populaires des Alpes françaises_, Grenoble, H. Falque et F. Perrin, Librairie dauphinoise ; Moutiers, François Ducloz, Librairie Savoyarde, 1903, 549 p.
-   Raphaël Blanchard, _Le ba'cubert : l'art populaire dans le Briançonnais_, Librairie ancienne Honoré Champion, 1914, 90 p.
-   Violet Alford, « The Baccubert », in _Journal of the English Folk Dance and Song Society_,Francis Bacon Society, p. 8-15, 1940,222 pages.
-   Fernand-Henri Carlhian, _Folklore briançonnais. Le Bacchu-ber conservé à Pont-de-Cervières : une danse des épées... une survivance du culte de Bacchus_, 1959.
-   Steve Corrsin, “Sword Dancing in Europe: A History”, Tradition Series, no. 3. Enfield Lock: Hisarlik Press for the Folklore Society, 1997, 256 pages,
-   Claude Muller, _Les Mystères du Dauphiné_, Edition De Borée, 2001, p. 138-142.,
-   Marc de Ribois et André Carénini (éd.), _Le Bacchu-ber et les danses des épées dans les Alpes occidentales_, Edisud, 2005 .
-   Jeremy Carter-Gordon Bacchu-ber Sword Dance

Adaptations

An instrumental adaptation under this very title “Bacchu-ber” is available on the 1977 (fourth) studio album _Malicorne 4_ by French folk group Malicorne.

Notes

Category:European folk dances Category:Hautes-Alpes Category:French folklore Category:Dance in France Category:Cultural heritage of France

[1] Violet Alford, 1940 (see publications above): “This sole survivor of the Sword dances of France (...)”

[2] Magazine _La France pittoresque_, n° 22, April–May–June 2007

[3] Collection of texts, le bacchu-ber et la danse des épées, André Carénini, Edisud, 2005

[4] Story from Fernand Carhlian-Ribois, _Recueil de textes, le bacchu-ber et la danse des épées_, André Carénini, Edisud, 2005

title: Bacchu-ber

question: When was the first written account of the Bacchu-Ber?

answer: The first written account of the Bacchu-Ber was written in 1730.

question: What type of dance is the Bacchu-Ber?

answer: The Bacchu-Ber is a folk dance performed with swords.

question: When is the Bacchu-Ber performed?

answer: The Bacchu-Ber is performed on August 16th.

question: How many dancers perform the Bacchu-Ber?

answer: The Bacchu-Ber is performed by nine dancers.

question: What was special about the 2003 Bacchu-Ber?

answer: The 2003 Bacchu-Ber was special because two circles of dancers performed the Bacchu-Ber.

question: How many singers sing during the Bacchu-Ber?

answer: Ten singers sing during the Bacchu-Ber.

question: When was the Society of the Bacchu-Ber Admirers founded?

answer: The Society of the Bacchu-Ber Admirers was founded in 1935.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The Bacchu-Ber is a traditional French folk dance performed with swords. The performers are nine dancers and ten singers. The earliest confirmed record of the Bacchu-Ber dates to 1730. Since 1935, the Society of the Bacchu-Ber Admirers has been in charge of organizing the annual Bacchu-Ber.