text:
A drama teacher at Homestead High School in Mequon is at the center of a controversial tradition among theater students. A silver serving platter known as the "Ass Platter" caused the school district to temporarily put the teacher on leave."The ass platter is willed down from senior to senior each year," said junior drama student Lily Norman. Norman said theater kids view the platter as a trophy. Each year, students featured in select scenes go head-to-head competing for the platter. "The scene that gets the best reaction from the audience gets to hit (students from) the opposing scene in the ass with the platter," Norman said. "It's not hard. It’s just playful."Students said the platter has been a tradition in the drama department for years, long before current teacher Amelia Figg-Franzoi took over the program. "It's traditions like these that I think are blown out of perspective," said Traci Cain, the mother of a drama student. She doesn’t consider the platter as a form of hazing."My understanding is that no one is under any pressure to participate in the ass platter process," Cain said. She wonders why some traditions can stand while others are seen as inappropriate. "We have boys on our swim team that run through the halls just in their Speedos, which I think would be uncomfortable for a lot of people," Cain said. "It's really hard to explain unless you are there, so I mean, I don’t think people should ever take it negatively," senior drama student Silma Berrada said. "No one is required to stand up there and get their ass slapped. It's all fun and games, and it's this kind of this silly little preshow thing we do."Berrada said theater students support their teacher. "It's a shame to see one of the best educators at Homestead High School go through this right now," Berrada said. Wednesday night, Homestead principal Brett Bowers confirmed that Figg-Franzoi will be back in class Thursday teaching her students. As for the future of the "Ass Platter" tradition, the Mequon School District released a statement Wednesday night saying in part, "We are confident that this newest concern was limited to a very specific group of students and that steps are being taken to ensure the practice has been eradicated."

MEQUON, WIS. —

A drama teacher at Homestead High School in Mequon is at the center of a controversial tradition among theater students.

A silver serving platter known as the "Ass Platter" caused the school district to temporarily put the teacher on leave.

"The ass platter is willed down from senior to senior each year," said junior drama student Lily Norman.

Norman said theater kids view the platter as a trophy. Each year, students featured in select scenes go head-to-head competing for the platter.

"The scene that gets the best reaction from the audience gets to hit (students from) the opposing scene in the ass with the platter," Norman said. "It's not hard. It’s just playful."

Students said the platter has been a tradition in the drama department for years, long before current teacher Amelia Figg-Franzoi took over the program.

"It's traditions like these that I think are blown out of perspective," said Traci Cain, the mother of a drama student.

She doesn’t consider the platter as a form of hazing.

"My understanding is that no one is under any pressure to participate in the ass platter process," Cain said.

She wonders why some traditions can stand while others are seen as inappropriate.

"We have boys on our swim team that run through the halls just in their Speedos, which I think would be uncomfortable for a lot of people," Cain said.

"It's really hard to explain unless you are there, so I mean, I don’t think people should ever take it negatively," senior drama student Silma Berrada said. "No one is required to stand up there and get their ass slapped. It's all fun and games, and it's this kind of this silly little preshow thing we do."

Berrada said theater students support their teacher.

"It's a shame to see one of the best educators at Homestead High School go through this right now," Berrada said.

Wednesday night, Homestead principal Brett Bowers confirmed that Figg-Franzoi will be back in class Thursday teaching her students.

As for the future of the "Ass Platter" tradition, the Mequon School District released a statement Wednesday night saying in part, "We are confident that this newest concern was limited to a very specific group of students and that steps are being taken to ensure the practice has been eradicated."

question: Where was this published?

answer: Unclear but this is likely for a publication in Wisconsin (if not the US) given this is fairly localised news

question: How did the tradition described in the article arise?

answer: The tradition, where senior theater students hit other students in the ass with a platter,

question: How did the school respond?

answer: The theater students and their parents defended the teacher that was put on leave; the school allowed the teacher back, but released a statement that the practice would be eliminated.

question: What is the stance (if any) taken by the author?

answer: Unclear, as the author does not take an explicit stance. However, the extent to which students / parents in support of the tradition are quoted suggests the author may at least be mildly in favour.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: A drama teacher at Homestead High School in Mequon, Wisconsin, was temporarily put on leave because of a tradition amongst theater students where a senior hits another student on the ass with the platter. Students and parents voiced support of the tradition. The school allowed the teacher to return but said that the tradition would be eradicated.


split: train

text:
CYPRIEN IOV (born 12 May 1989), also known as MONSIEUR DREAM or simply as CYPRIEN (), is a French comedian, actor, dubber, and blogger known for his short comic YouTube videos.[1][2]

He came to prominence on Dailymotion as Monsieur Dream, before producing videos on YouTube while he kept studying.

As of September 2020, his YouTube channel had 13.8 million subscribers and over 2.6 billion views.

Biography

Cyprien created his YouTube channel on 25 February 2007. After that his channel quickly started to grow. He often works with Yvick Letexier, Norman Thavaud, and Hugo Dessioux.

[1]  “Cyprien et Norman toujours en tête de You Tube France” , Stratégies, 12 December 2015.

[2]  “Cyprien, le multimillionnaire”, Libération, 19 December 2016

title: Cyprien Iov

question: Who is Cyprien Iov?

answer: A Fench comedian, actor, dubber, and blogger

question: What other names does Cyprien Iov go by?

answer: Cyprien and Monsieur Dream

question: What milestone did Cyprien Iov hit in September 2020?

answer: He didn't hit a milestone. The article simply states that as of September 2020, his Youtube channel had 13.8 million subscribers.

question: Who are three frequent collaborators of Cyprien Iov?

answer: Yvick Letexier, Norman Thavaud, and Hugo Dessioux.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Cyprien Iov is a French comedian, actor, dubber, and blogger. His Youtube channel, where he posts short comic videos, had 13.8 million subscribers as of September 2020. He came to prominence on Dailymotion under the name Monsieur Dream.


text:
[]

Kempegowda International Airport (File Photo)

BENGALURU: Beginning Sunday, passengers will have to pay lesser User Development Fee (UDF) for air tickets booked to and from Kempegowda International Airport (KIA).
UDF is collected directly from passengers while booking and handed over to the airport operator. The Airports Economic Regulatory Authority of India (AERA) slashed UDF for international and domestic passengers at KIA by 67% as per an August 31 order, which will come into effect from Sunday.
UDF for international passengers has been reduced from Rs 1,226 to Rs 400 and for domestic passengers from Rs 306 to to Rs 100. AERA has also reduced the landing, parking and housing charges imposed by Bangalore International Airport Limited (BIAL) on airlines by up to 60%.
However, airlines are unlikely to shift the benefits to the passengers. Many airlines in the country are struggling due to a huge financial crunch.
Hari Marar, managing director and CEO of BIAL, recently told journalists that air fares follow the dynamic pricing model based on demand and supply so reduction of UDF may not reflect in the charges.

FacebookTwitterLinkedinEMail

question: What is the UDF?

answer: User Development Fee

question: How is UDF collected?

answer: It is charged to passengers during booking.

question: What is Hari Marar's job?

answer: He is the managing director and CEO of BIAL.

question: Why are airlines struggling?

answer: There is an ongoing financial crunch.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The article discusses the implementation and collection of a new airline fee at the Kempegowda International Airport. The price for the fee has been reduced. It also speculates about the impact of the fee deduction on consumers.


text:
Double Dipping

[]

Update: Take a look at the comments for further clarification from the creators on a variety of issues.

It takes a lot for a Kickstarter to really irritate me these days. Projects that ask for too much, that or poorly executed, or that have unrealistic goals have become pretty common; they’re worth talking about as examples of what not to do, but not worth getting worked up about. I almost got there with Star Citizen, in that they were trawling for extra cash, but it wasn’t immoral, merely disappointing.

I pledged to a project pretty late Tuesday night that crossed the line. When I first saw it before bed time, I thought it looked great – so I tossed it $20 without really thinking about it. Big mistake. The next morning while waiting at the airport on my way to Thanksgiving festivities, I stopped by to take another look. What I found made me furious.

Why not tell me if I’m over reacting?

What I found was a great looking product, that wanted (and will probably get) $48,000 to make the first of a three part Peter Pan graphic novel series. Ambitious – sure, but it reeks of quality so I’m okay with it.

You can get the PDF of this book for $20 and a physical copy for $35. Okay so they are indie producers, and they deserve a little slack on their excessive price points. Except they aren’t, and they don’t. A Kickstarter, to my mind, is to cover the costs of the project – and in this case the creators are the artists so they are proposing to pay this money to themselves at a rate in the neighborhood of $350 A PAGE, saying:

  We are in need of these funds to complete production of Volume 1. It may seem like a large number to raise, but in truth, we are paying ourselves our fair comic production rates, and for the rest, well, Kickstarter Campaigns are expensive to fulfill! 🙂 There’s a large cost for printing, shipping of rewards, fees, taxes, and other costs that happen with Kickstarter Campaigns that many might not think of.

That doesn’t sound like someone who needs the money to make a project a reality, it sounds like someone who wants to get paid. This husband and wife team could draw the whole book for free if they wanted to. Sure they deserve compensation for their obviois talent, but the lack of funding wouldn’t stop them from making the project a reality.

I’m a bit jaded, but If that was the worst part though, I could let them slide – I really could. It’s tacky and maybe tone-deaf, but hardly immoral. But then the project goes on to offer this little nugget:

  IDW Publishing has already approved us for publishing, but we are still in need of funding to complete Volume 1. This is mostly because the preliminary groundwork for the Volume 1 (research, development, planning) require more time and money than the rest of the series. The funding also allows us (Ray and I, a married creative team with 2 children who work from home) to be able to take the time and care a story like Peter Pan deserves.

First note: this project is being published – why do they need Kickstarter?

Second note: They are a creative team that works from home (and has been previously published) What does this make them if not professionals?

I’m no industry veteran, but I thought that the way a project like this goes, is that if you are writing something for a publisher, and they give you a cut of what they sell. I was unaware that you could add the additional step of “get strangers on the Internet to give you money to make it” in front of “get large company to sell it for you.”

The creator goes on to offer the fig leaf, that “Even though IDW will be publishing later on, it is my goal to make the Kickstarter copies available sooner than regular distribution, also I intend to make Kickstarter a little special from other versions.”

I suspect the answer from the publisher will be that they can’t fulfill the project before it launches, that IDW will sell it for $20 in paperback and $6 on Comixology, and that they only specialization likely to occur is that they will remove the Kickstarter credits to bring it in line with their publishing standards.

So am I way off base on this? Am I making a mountain out of a molehill? Because to me this feels like a slick project is going to soak the Kickstarter user base when they don’t even really need the funding.

question: What is a Kickstarter

answer: It is a funding platform for creative projects.

question: What does the author think of Kickstarters

answer: In the author's opinion, they are unnecessary.

question: What did the author think of the creative project soliciting money for publishing

answer: It might be implied the author thought it was disappointing.

question: What was the project about?

answer: A Peter Pan graphic novel series.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The author expresses his/her frustration concerning Kickstarter projects, citing an example from a couple requesting funds to complete and publish volume 1 of their peter pan graphic novel series.


text:
   He wasn't quite sure if he could still call himself a magician. He didn't really feel all that magical. Yet here Jack was, sitting on his bed, trying to pull something out of his hat.
   He had gotten the hat when he was a kid. He used to do all sorts of magic. Not particularly GOOD magic, but it was magic. As he got older though he became more and more self conscious of his mystical little hobby. Not that any one made fun of him for it, in fact he got a lot of praise for his magic tricks. He just decided that there were more practical uses of his time. But for some reason, today he really wanted to pull a rabbit out of thin air.

       He stuck his hand in and felt nothing. He was rusty.

   Jack thought back to his first performance at the 5th grade talent show. The crowd was amazed- or so he had thought. It wasn't until watching his mothers video tape of the performance years later that he realized that 'Jack the Magnificent' was only 'Jack the Pretty Good for an 11-year-old'. His biggest trick, a levitation spell, could only get him three feet off the ground. More adorable then magnificent.

   Tired of being patronized by his family and friends he sold most of his magical treasures in high school. The faberge dragon's egg he got from his dead grandmother brought in enough for him to get a car. 'The Mysterious Mittens of Midas' (an 8th birthday present that stopped working years ago) helped him rent a tux for prom. He decided to just give 'The False Pharaoh's Sarcophagus of Sacrilege' to the children's museum. The thing was so big he was just happy to get rid of it. They were pretty irritated when they found out it was cursed but come on- just look at it's name. It shouldn't have taken 2 possessions for them to figure out what was up. The only items that he decided to keep were the hat and a jar that held the first pixie he ever summoned. He had kept them for mostly for sentimental reasons (they were also the easiest to fit in the closet). But the pixie had escaped at some point, but Jack's Mom swore it was still in the house somewhere.

   His parents had been pretty supportive of the whole "I want to be a mystical conduit" thing when he was a kid, but then again they were pretty supportive of everything he did. He was currently a manager at local department store, and Mom and Dad just seemed happy that he capable of taking care of himself. The job payed pretty well and he was proud of working his way up from a cashier position. His hobby had actually proved to be of some help in getting him there: When a couple boxes from a shipment had gone missing Jack used an enchanted tome he found on eBay (either 'Jupiter's Judgment' or 'Issitoq's Intuition'- he couldn't remember what it was called now) to find that the boxes had fallen behind one the shelves in the back. Corporate was so impressed they decided to give him the assistant manager's job after they quit to go work at iHop.

   Jack was pretty content, but he was also pretty bored. Maybe that's why he was spending his one day off this week trying to pull a rabbit out this old hat.

   He started trying to remember why he had wanted to become a magician: To understand the unknown? To create that which didn't yet exist and command powers capable of altering the very fabric of the universe? Probably the same reasons any kid wanted to be a magician. As a boy he had dreamed of being one of the greats, a mighty sorcerer capable of changing the world. However, as he got older he realized that there was a much higher chance that he would fail and just become another wizard living at home with his parents. So he decide to just alter his dreams. Instead of conquering the mysteries of the world, he decided he could still be happy with having a good retirement plan.

   And he was happy. He had security, which was more then a lot of people had in the current economy. And being magician was risky- dangerous even. A couple of friends back in his hometown were still trying to make it big- one had accidentally caught his dad's yard on fire trying to deal with a squirrel problem and another had recently grown a permanent third eye (good luck with any future job interviews with that thing on your forehead). So why was he sitting here, wasting his Saturday trying to make something out of nothing?

   Maybe it was because, after graduating and leaving home, he wasn't feeling so special anymore. He wasn't the center of his parents world, he wasn't the center or anyone's world. He had a lot responsibility at work but he was easily replaceable. He was started to get frustrated, he had been digging around this hat for about ten minutes now and he hadn't been able to find anything. What was he trying to accomplish here? It's not like a rabbit was going to make him feel any better any way.

   But then Jack started doing something he hadn't done in quite some time: he started to wonder. What if there wasn't a rabbit in this hat?
       What if it was something else entirely?
   What if there was an ancient vessel inside, a home for a forgotten god? What if it was a vial containing a serum that made people forget their middle name? What if instead of a rabbit he pulled out a flower that smelled like hellfire?  Or what if inside this old hat was an even older hat that when worn would transform him into someone that wasn't afraid of asking out Sarah at work?
   He pulled his hand out of the hat and hesitated. He hadn't properly considered the possibilities, something horrible could happen.

       Or something amazing.

   He paused. Then, trying not think, he stuck his hand into the hat reaching as far as he could. The brim of the hat met his shoulder and he finally got a hold of what was in the hat

       He grabbed it tightly, pulled it out, and turned the nothing into a something.

title: The Not-So-Magnificent

question: Explain Jack's boredom.

answer: He feels mundane and without direction.

question: Does magic exist for real in the setting of this story?

answer: Yes, the narrator describes many events that aren't just illusions or tricks.

question: List the magical items Jack had over the course of his life.

answer: The Faberge dragon's egg, the Mysterious Mittens of Midas, The False Pharaoh's Sarcophagus of Sacrilege, his magic hat, and the jar that used to contain the first pixie he ever summoned.

question: Why did Jack give up his childhood dreams?

answer: He realized the chance to fail was much higher than the chance to succeed in becoming a great wizard.

question: Write a ~7 sentence summary.

answer: Jack isn't sure he can call himself a magician. He used to perform during his childhood but realized that becoming a great wizard wasn't quite likely. He changed his goals to have a good retirement plan, instead. However, after living on his own and working in a mundane job (where he had a lot of responsibility, but still was replaceable), he feels mundane. He tries to pull a rabbit out of his hat, searching its inside for a while, feeling nothing. Then he realizes that there can be anything inside, not just a rabbit. He lets go of his thoughts and puts his arm wholly inside, grabs something, and pulls out - turning nothing into something.


text:
Apart from the soaring heat recorded in February and March, alarm bells are ringing continuously in the form of extreme weather events.

[Antarctic Ice Shelf]

Nasa Finds Antarctic Ice Shelf just a Few Years from DisintegrationReuters

Climate scientists are stunned at the latest findings that suggest the previous month May was the 13th month in a row to break previously held temperature records.

Apart from the soaring heat recorded in February and March, alarm bells are ringing continuously in the form of extreme weather events, ranging from vanishing Arctic sea ice, droughts in India, the vast bleaching of the Great Barrier Reef and flash floods in the UK and in Paris.

"It is in my view highly unlikely that we would be seeing record drought, like we're seeing in California, record flooding in Texas, unprecedented wildfires in western North America, and the strongest recorded hurricanes in both the northern and southern hemisphere were it not for the impact of human-caused global warming," Professor Michael Mann of Penn State University is quoted saying by the Guardian.

Killer heat waves are also increasing exponentially, said professor Stefan Rahmstorf of Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research in Germany.

More than 300 people in India have been killed in recent heat waves.

"Our analysis of monthly heat records around the globe shows they now occur five times as often. It is those monthly heat records that are representative of heatwaves that last for weeks on end and they are ones that take the highest death toll." He said.

Extreme weather activity also refers to the record high temperature of 51 degrees Celsius in India and a record warm autumn in Australia, as well as other broken records in the US.

"The numbers are completely unprecedented, they really stick out like a sore thumb." Said Adam Scaife, who works at the Met Office in the UK.

Every New Year is claiming the title of the hottest ever, which scientists believe probabilistically speaking, a one in a million chance. "Including this year so far, 16 of the 17 warmest years on record have been since 2000 â€“ it's a shocking statistic," Scaife said.

Another shattered record is the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, the rate at which humanity is emitting CO2 is the fastest for 66 million years.

"We know from Antarctic ice cores that go back almost a million years that CO2 was never even remotely as high as this," says Rahmstorf

The weather phenomenon known as El NiÃ±o has also contributed to the increase in temperatures apart from rising CO2 levels.

El NiÃ±os are caused due to cyclical changes in ocean temperatures over decades and ultimately release the stored heat, therefore impacting temperatures and weather around the globe.

El NiÃ±o is set to enter its opposite phase, called La NiÃ±a which indicates that 2017 may not be a record year but it is still likely to be hotter when compared to other La Nina years.

"These [records] are very worrying signs and I think it shows we are on a crash course with the Paris targets unless we change course very, very fast. I hope people realise that global warming is not something down the road, but it is here now and it affecting us now." appealed Rahmstorf.

-   Earthquake
-   Hurricane

Suggested Articles

question: What is expected to happen if nothing is done about CO2 emissions?

answer: If CO2 emissions continue at their current rate, temperatures are expected to continue to rise and climate disasters will be more and more common.

question: Which results in higher temperatures, El Nino or La Nina?

answer: El Nino results in higher temperatures.


text:
The nights Julian spent out long after the sun had risen and the hustle and bustle of the work day had begun always ended with him going home to a cold empty bed. sunlight glinting off the murky glass of tap water placed slightly to the left of a microwave meal for one was an all too apparent reminder of a life that never truly begun let alone got cut short. a life that every boy hopes for while  growing up. Not a life of fame or stardom, not a life of wealth and adoration, Not even a life of comfortable contented satisfaction. But a life of happiness that comes easy and a sense of self satisfaction unscathed by ego or pride.

 Julian often wondered why that life never came. the chances that had been thrown in his path had often left him feeling morose and empty, he always tried his best but whether it was his habitual way of rejecting those who adored him most or the way that always turned out to be a lie mattered not. he was alone and miserable and it wouldn’t be too long until the microwave meal for one washed down by tap water turned into a whiskey washed down by another.

 He sighed into cupped hands and started towards the door. cologne and toothbrush left in the cupboard and the iron left to gather yet more dust, wherever it was the iron resided.

The walk to the bar in which he spent most nights was a short sad one. past the dilapidated ruin of a town centre he once called home and straight through the park that once held fond memories of days spent with childhood friends, days filled with laughter. days passed. The bar itself wasn’t all bad. the rats kept mostly to themselves as did the bar-flys he bitterly called friends. An overwhelming smell of damp and cheap liquor was ever present and provided some cold comfort at least.

“This seat taken?” julian asked

“I suppose not” replied a strangely unfamiliar voice.

Julian almost fell out of the chair he had only just sat in when the sudden realisation of his current situation hit him like a concrete floor to back of the head. The voice in question was a female one. tired, gravely and almost as world weary as his own. But female none the less.

 “this might be all too forward but can i buy you a drink?”

“Don’t do this much do ya?” the beautifully lonely voice asked

“oh i’m sorry, i didn’t even ask your name”

“Regina. the pleasure is all yours”

The next few hours passed in a daze of whiskey and forced laughter as He used every trick television had ever taught him and before he knew it they were waiting out in the bitter november cold for a taxi that may or may not come, But it did come and they rode home together.

  Putting the key into the door was a challenge in itself considering his hands were a nervous wreck due to the drinking and the butterflies that came the moment she smiled and agreed to come back for a nightcap.  After what seemed like hours the door finally swung open to reveal a picture of mid twenties desperation and agnst. no lampshade on the light. cigarette burns on the couch and enough empty bottles of beer to warrant some suspicion. All to the soundtrack of TV static.

All of the above didnt matter however. She wasted no time in making her intentions clear. her coat fell to the floor almost as fast as she fell to her knees in front of a shocked, drunk Julian. Never before had he struggled so hard to remove his belt. his hands fumbling at the clasp as though this were his first time attempting said task.

“WAIT” she said.

“What is it?” a sudden feeling of dread crept over his entire excited body. what have i done wrong ? is the shitty apartment i call home ? did she sober up and realise what a deadbeat i am?.

  All of those assumptions were wrong.

“I need you to do something for me first” she said playing with her hair while grinning the most devious grin he had ever seen.

 Julian almost didn’t ask what she wanted he was so ready to do anything for her.

 “what is it ?” he stammered “what do you need ?”
Regina looked up with hope never before seen in her eyes and quietly stated.

“Ima need about tree fiddy”

  It was at this point that Julian realised the girl he had brought home from the bar was in fact a three hundred foot tall prehistoric monster from the Paleozoic era.

“Get outta here Loch ness monster!” he screamed as he slammed the door
 And then he was alone again.

Beautifully alone.

title: Beautifully Alone.

question: What is Julian and Regina's relation?

answer: Julian meets Regina at his local bar and offers to buy her a drink.

question: Explain what happened after Julian and Regina left the bar.

answer: They took a taxi together back to Julian's apartment and he was very a nervous wreck.

question: Why was Julian shocked when they were inside his apartment?

answer: At the speed that Regina dropped down to her knees, making her intentions very clear, and him fumbling with his belt.

question: Explain how Julian ended up alone.

answer: Before going any further, Regina asked Julian for money at which he realized what she was and slammed the door behind her.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Julian meets a girl at the local bar and offers to buy her a drink. Shortly after, they were on their way to Julian's apartment. Within minutes she was asking Julian for money, making him realize what she really was. Moments later, Julian was alone again.


text:
_BARTRAMIA_ is a genus of mosses in the family Bartramiaceae. The genus was first formally described by Johann Hedwig in 1801. There are about 72 species, usually growing on soil, sometimes on rocks, in many habitats in many parts of the world, although tropical species are only found at high altitudes. Nine species occur in Australia but only three of these are endemic to that continent.

Description

Mosses in the genus _Bartramia_ form “tufts” or “cushions” of plants high. The plants are bright green, yellowish-green or bluish-green. The stems are branched but not in whorls, with the outer layer formed of small cells and the central strand prominent. The leaves are linear, subulate or serrated and the costa is strong, percurrent or short-excurrent. The upper cells are linear or rectangular, more elongated near the leaf base and pimply near the ends of the lumen. The capsules are erect or nearly erect, spherical to oblong, long. The peristome is often absent or reduced, sometimes single and the spores are nearly spherical, kidney-shaped or warty.[1][2][3]

Taxonomy and naming

The genus _Bartramia_ was first formally described in 1801 by the German botanist Johann Hedwig and published in _Species muscorum frondosorum_.[4][5][6] Hedwig only described two species, (_B. halleriana_ and _B. pomiformis_ but about 72 species are now recognised.[7][8] The name _Bartramia_ honours the pioneer American botanist John Bartram.[9][10]

Species include:[11][12]

-   _Bartramia alaris_ Dixon & Sainsbury
-   _Bartramia breutelii_ Müll.Hal.
-   _Bartramia brevifolia_ Brid.
-   _Bartramia halleriana_ Hedwig
-   _Bartramia hampeana_ Müll.Hal.
-   _Bartramia ithyphylla_ Brid.
-   _Bartramia mossmaniana_ Müll.Hal.
-   _Bartramia nothostricta_ Catches.
-   _Bartramia pomiformis_ Hedwig
-   _Bartramia potosica_ Mont.
-   _Bartramia pseudostricta_ Catches.
-   _Bartramia robusta_ Hook.f. & Wilson
-   _Bartramia strictifolia_ Taylor
-   _Bartramia subsymmetrica_ Cardot
-   _Bartramia subulata_ Bruch and A.Schimp.

Distribution and habitat

Mosses in the genus _Bartramia_ are found throughout the world but most often in temperate and mountainous areas, especially those with a humid climate. It is rarely found in arctic, alpine or arid areas and in the tropics it is usually only found at high altitudes. It often grows on shady rocks, on the northern side in the northern hemisphere, commonly near streams and waterfalls where the humidity is high.[13][14]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10] Hedwig, Joannis. (1787-97). Descriptio et adumbratio microscopico-analytica muscorum frondosorum. Volume 2. pp 111-112.1

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

title: Bartramia (plant)

question: Who was the first to formally describe the genus?

answer: Johann Hedwig

question: How many species are in the genus?

answer: About 72

question: Who is the genus named for?

answer: John Bartram, an American botanist

question: Where is the moss typically found?

answer: Often in temperate and mountainous areas, especially those with a humid climate

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Bartramia is a genus of mosses in the family Bartramiaceae. It was first formally described by Johann Hedwig in 1801, and it is named for John Bartram, an American botanist. Mosses in the genus are often found in temperate and mountainous areas, especially those with a humid climate.


text:
	I stand on the stage, putting off the beginning of the performance as long as possible.  The band that I play guitar for was supposed to start four minutes ago. We're the opening act for two bands out from LA on there way through Small Town, Utah on their tour. Now, there just waiting on us to get the show started. Waiting on me. But I'm being selfish. I do that sometimes.
	Me – I'm waiting for something. *Someone* actually, but that's just semantics, and due to my motives it could be argued that what happens after she gets here is more important right now. And it probably is. Then, in she walks, standing next to my sister who made the eighty mile round trip to pick her up and bring her here for me. For a second I forget where I am; what I'm doing. It's like this every time I see her. The most gorgeous, perfect person in the world, with this never-fading energy coming off of her that makes my heart miss a few beats.
	She's my ex-girlfriend. We're *friends* now. My grandma calls her Hope, even though that's not her name. We'll call her Hope, too. Now, like every time I see her, I start acting off of instinct. Not the lower instinct of animals, but the higher instinct of the emotional beasts that humans are. I step off the stage, force my way to her, and pull her close.
	I say, pay attention.
	I say, I'm going to show you what my love for you means.

	Before she has a chance to even part her lips, I'm back on stage, and we're barreling through the intro to our set. Well, I'm pretty sure we are. Like I told her, I'm showing what I feel for her. Pouring every ounce of love, passion, happiness, anger, and sorrow into every note I play. It's probably not as impressive to everyone else as it is in my head.
	The set goes on, and with each verse, each chorus, each contrived guitar solo, and every cleverly placed stop, syncopation, and harmony we play, I'm emptying more and more of my soul into what I'm doing. She's gotta be fucking loving it.
	Twenty-eight minutes of this feels like a second and a lifetime simultaneously, because every moment with this girl is at once a blink of an eye, and the passing of an era. One beautiful second is a gorgeous eternity.
	After the finale of our opening set, I drop my guitar and run to her again.
	I say, meet me out back in five minutes.
	I say, I love you.

	Five minutes later, I've hauled my stuff off stage, and helped to get the next band's gear in it's place. Five minutes later, I'm outside standing face to face with the one I love.
	I say, you know this isn't the end for us, Hope. You know we can't go on like this anymore. I know that I hurt you, and you know that I'm sorry.
	I say, it's okay, though. Because there are two ways I see this going.
	I say, first is, you stop all this. You and I give us another chance, like I know you want to. And you know I want to. Everything's perfect. And no one has to hurt more than necessary. Not you, not me, and not John. You know you don't love him, and you know that you won't be happy with him, so you can stop it all now. Then, we end up together again.
	I say, second is, you keep it up. You keep fighting what you know in your heart just because you want to prove me wrong. You and John get together, and that's that. I go my own way, focus on school, and get my life in order. Then, somewhere down the road, we meet again. In my head, it's five years from now. I'm in London, teaching at a college, and I haven't moved on, because you know I won't. You happen to be in London, too, albeit just for the day. You're there for a photo shoot. The famous model you've become. We happen upon each other in the city, and we get talking. Turns out you haven't moved on, either. No one's surprised. You've had your heart broken a few more times, sure. And you've broken a few more hearts yourself. But you haven't moved on. Then, we end up together again.
	I say, your choice.
	I start backing away, and before I turn around to walk to my car I say, I love you, Hope. Goodbye.
	She gets that all-too-familiar bitter tone in her voice again when she says, so what? So now you're just leaving my life?
	I say, I'm going home to figure my life out. You could come with.
	She says, okay.

title: Final Performance.

question: Who is the woman the narrator was waiting for?

answer: The woman is the narrator's ex-girlfriend but they are still friends.

question: Where were they performing?

answer: The narrator is a guitarist for a band that's the opening band for two other bands coming from LA.

question: Do they get back together?

answer: It may be implied that the couple does get back together after the narrator walks away to his car and the girl agrees to go with him.

question: With what emotions in his head does the man play the notes?

answer: The narrator plays the notes with every emotion possible - anger, sorrow, passion, love, happiness.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer:
The narrator is on the stage as a member of an opening band but he does not start until his sister arrives with his ex-girlfriend.

He starts playing the notes, filled with every emotion possible. After the finale, he rushes to her and asks her to meet him outside.

They meet and he states how there are two ways he sees their future and in either, they end up together at some point. He then walks away to his car saying he loves her and is going to figure his life out. She walks with him.


text:
from Love & Chemicals: The Memoir

Rostov-on-Don, ‘Gateway to the Caucasus’,
population one million,
is located just on the safe side
of the southwest corner of Russia,
nearby Chechnya, Georgia and Armenia,
it acts like a land-locked port city
between the feudal tribal lands and Moscow (Putin)...
I had just accepted a one-year contract to work there,
with a hefty bonus if I completed my obligations,
so my spirits were soaring with optimism
as my wife and I began to explore this new region.

We ventured outside for the 1st time
from our new subsidized apartment
located beside the calm Don River,
happy to be in warmest climate possible in the Slavic world.
The 1st stranger we encountered in the autumn afternoon
was completely and absolutely F’d out of his skull,
and we shook our heads as we walked by,
even laughed a little at his misfortune.
The 2nd and the 3rd person we passed by were even worse,
a pattern which quickly wiped away our coy smiles
as we approached the central market.

Later that evening we attended an Expat Meet-Up,
thankful for the fruit of the growing internet.
We met the 2 residing managers of an IKEA
that had opened 6 months earlier as a corporate experiment.
An ethical international company that refused to pay bribes,
the store was still not connected to the Central Power Authority.
Eight portable diesel generators ran non-stop in the parking lot
to keep the feeding frenzy for cheap furniture open to the public,
as the corruption issue continued behind closed doors.

Sven told us about the time when he was sitting at a local bar
chatting up the waitress between shots with business partners,
as a cocktail glass came flying from the corner of the room
inadvertently aimed just centimeters shy of his left ear.
The Swede took his cue and left the premises,
but not before marking who the perpetrator was.
“From the Caucasus, an F’n Muslim, of course.”

My wife is Muslim, and we had just gotten married a month before.
I was the first non-Islamic person, never mind Jewish,
to be allowed to wed in her town’s central mosque.
A gracious donation from her faithful grandmother
was able to arrange a meeting with the Imam,
who then stated that no matter his personal beliefs
his G-d wouldn’t forgive him
if he denied the Love he witnessed
in our conversation together.

Stefan told us about the time when he was riding in a taxi,
dozing off in the backseat crossing the congested city,
where the next thing he knew he woke up in the forest,
in his underwear, bound, and left alone.
After escaping and finding a small village in the distance
no one answered the door as he asked for assistance
until one young man decided to save his life.
This savior refused any reimbursement upon Stefan’s safe return,
just the promise to never tell anyone that he had helped him,
there was no reason to raise the suspicion of the watchful neighbors.

My first week of teaching was with a private student,
a middle-aged man who had won Teacher of the Year
from the government of the Republic of North Ossetia,
currently occupied by the Russian Federation.
He was from the town of Beslan, and taught in the building
beside the school that housed the infamous hostage crisis
that left 186 children killed, and 783 injured.
His reward for the honor was 2 weeks of lessons with me, and an iMac,
and I hope I was worth more than the hardware.
He had been inspired as a teenager to be a Soviet MiG Pilot
after watching ‘Top Gun‘ on a friend’s smuggled VHS tape,
but his training was abruptly cancelled when the USSR collapsed
only a year away from graduation.

It was then a friend of a friend who introduced him to Depeche Mode,
which inspired him again, but this time to understand and teach the English language.
Every class he taught thereafter was introduced to Maverick and Goose,
to help his students deal with loss.

2 weeks later, my wife and I were jumped outside a café
for the unspeakable act of using English too loudly.
A group of young men attacked us from behind,
kicking us to the ground with their Nike sneakers,
the distinct smell of McDonald’s on their breath
as they instinctively screamed, 'Yankee, go home!’

We escaped when a passing taxi driver finally had some sympathy
and interrupted the impromptu show of force.
This savior refused any reimbursement upon our return home,
just the promise to never tell anyone that he had helped us,
there was no reason to raise the suspicion of his usual customers.

We met a New Zealander a few weeks later
who was the manager of the 1st golf course ever in the area,
and he invited us out for a day on the links.
We only made it to the driving range because of overcast skies,
where my wife got her 1st chance to swing a 1 wood.
She lucked out a few times and found the sweet spot,
the pain from her black eye forgotten
as she looked back and smiled coyly at me.

We spent the next year holed up in our apartment,
the price to pay for being in public had proved too alarming.
We quietly cursed the screaming children every Saturday morning
at the daycare center located on the ground floor of our building,
but the result was that our relationship grew stronger than before.
We knew we could live through anything,
what was most important
was to remain close to each other.

title: [NF] Hell in Rostov-on-Don, Russia

question: Summarize everything related to racism.

answer: Sven blames a Muslim for throwing a cocktail glass at him at a local bar. The Imam wed the narrator and his wife despite his personal beliefs about their interracial marriage. The narrator and his wife are jumped for using English too loudly, while their attackers scream "Yankee, go home!"

question: Summarize everything relating to business.

answer: The narrator travels to Rostov-on-Don after accepting a one-year contract to work there. At an Expat Meet-Up, the narrator and his wife meet the two residing managers of an IKEA that had opened there as a corporate experiment. Sven had a glass thrown at him while at a bar with business partners.

question: Summarize everything relating to the narrator's biological relatives.

question: Summarize everything negative that happens to the characters in the story.

answer: Sven has a cocktail glass thrown at him while he is at a local bar. Stefan dozes off in a taxi and wakes up in the forest in his underwear, bound, and alone. The narrator's first student taught in the building beside the school where a hostage crisis left 186 children killed and 783 injured. The narrator and his wife are jumped outside of a cafe for speaking English too loudly.


text:
-   Business

Drug company’s calculation of past executive pay has excluded costs tied to litigation

[]

Mylan CEO Heather Bresch testified on Sept. 21 before the House Oversight Committee regarding EpiPen price increases.

 Photo: Alex Brandon/Associated Press

Executives of EpiPen maker Mylan NV are unlikely to suffer a reduction in their pay from the company’s recent $465 million settlement of allegations that it improperly overcharged Medicaid for the lifesaving drug.

That is because Mylan historically has calculated executive pay using a nonstandard measure called “adjusted diluted” earnings, which excludes the costs of such litigation settlements, the company’s regulatory filings show.

The...

question: Why does the executive pay exclude litigation costs?

answer: Executive pay is calculated using a nonstandard measure called 'adjusted diluted' earnings.

question: Where was this article published?

answer: Unclear (likely broadsheet news; although the Associated Press is mentioned, this seems solely in relation to the photo)

question: What litigation is involved?

answer: Mylan NV settled $465 million for allegations that it improperly overcharged Medicaid for the Epipen

question: Why did this litigation arise?

answer: Mylan is alleged to have improperly overcharged Medicaid for the Epipen

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Although Mylan NV has incurred significant costs for litigation over it allegedly overcharging for the Epipen, executive pay has not be reduced to reflect these costs


text:
The day was full of twists and turns. Charlie was at cash today. It was an 8 hour shift and he was doing his best. The cool wind flowed through his poor hair, and the suns warmth caught his skin. It was a beautiful day today and it was unfortunate he had to be cashing away people he didn't know. It wasn't so crowded now, so Charlie got a sense of relaxation. It didn't last long, for his eyes gazed at a girl now coming towards him. She was young, and wore glasses much bigger than they needed to be. Her nose was a bit long and as she spoke she had the accent of a far away country. Romania perhaps.

“Hi." she said as she placed her flowers before him so he could scan. Charlie did as he was supposed to do, making sure he kept his smile. “Ello." Charlie answered, with much energy. Deep down he felt compelled and memory-stricken from the fact that this young girl looked much liked his ex. So much for moving on. The girl smiled at him and when things were done, she left.

And that was that.

When the long day was done, and after he left work without a sound, he walked to the bus stop. Blissful tunes he had made bopped in his ears, and meaningful melodies inspired him to keep moving. He was content, that above everything else, he was talented. The night sky was indeed beautiful, and him being alone was well enjoyed. He hummed and sang imaginary lyrics and notes and he laughed as it amused his musical soul. The stars above him made him smile and the wind was cool.

The bus ride however was not so much fun as he had liked it to be.

Teenagers  younger then him had boarded the bus and Charlie had no choice but to be around then and their activities. Holding hands and shit like that. You know the deal.

Charlie knew it all to well, and deep down he hated them. Today was a day of many reminders of how out dated he was, how anti-social he seemed to be, or how he still lived on lies and lost love. But he couldn't complain.

All he had to do...
was close his eyes.

And closed his eyes he did.

title: Reminders and Melodies

question: Where does Charlie work?

answer: He works as a cashier, possibly at a flower shop, although the type of shop is not confirmed.

question: How old is Charlie?

answer: He is older than the teenagers he sees on the bus. The phrasing might imply that he is a teenager as well.

question: Why does Charlie close his eyes?

answer: Charlie closes his eyes because he can't stand to look at all of the teenagers on the bus holding hands and being social. The sight of them makes him feel outdated and anti-social.

question: Describe the girl.

answer: She is young, wears big glasses, has a slightly long nose, and speaks with an accent (possibly Romanian). She looks a lot like Charlie's ex.

question: What is Charlie's talent?

answer: Charlie can compose music.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: While working a shift at his cashier job, Charlie encounters a girl who looks like his ex. On the way home, he hums to himself, content with his ability to compose music. On the bus, however, he sees teenagers being social and holding hands. This fills him with loathing and makes him feel outdated, so he closes his eyes.


text:
Elder Jon sat before the fire at the center of his village. He was the last elder in his tribe to

carry the ancestral power. The magic that allowed him to summon the elements, change the weather,

and destroy the enemies of his people. He had been the most powerful of his people, now he was

the last.

Assassins had come in the night, cowards who hid themselves from the spirits with paint on their

faces. He forgave them though, they didn't have a choice. Sent forth to commit great crimes against the spirits on fear of death at the hands of their own elders if they failed. He also knew that this was a precursor to war. Many other tribes had been destroyed recently, and it always started with

similar tactics.

He had only survived himself because of the blessings of the spirits. He had been summoned by nature to relieve himself, and while he was out in the bushes, He caught sight of one of the assassins approaching his tent a mere stones throw away from where he stood. with just a thought the assassin was immobilized by the power of the air around him. It was a simple trick taught early to those blessed by the ancestors. Turn the air around a person as thick as stone. It required little effort and allowed him to make sure it was an enemy and not some fool child playing a prank. It was an enemy and it was exactly the last peoples he wanted to find sneaking into his camp at night.

Tonight he had to commune with his acestors and ask them what could be done to save his people. He

had to save his people. If it cost his life, if he himself would be sacrficed, he had to save his

people.

"Hello Jon."

His father was there before him, a shadow in the flames of the fire.

"Father," Jon started "Please help us. I am the last Elder left to defend our people, and I am certain that our enemies mean war. Is there anything that can be done to stop this? I will pay any price. My life means nothing if I cannot defend our people."

His father held a sad look as he stared down at Jon.

"There is only one thing that could be done, and it will cost much more than your life."

"What must I do?"

"You must seperate the world of the living and the world of the spirits."

"But then how will you protects us?"

"Some of us think that the time where we were needed has passed. We are no longer needed to protect you from the great beast, most of them now fear you. We are no longer needed to protect you from the floods since you found these plains. Now our presence hurts our peoples. The spirit worlds connection to the world of the living is what allows magic to exist in this world. It is what allows these powers that so many have abused of late to exist."

"But father, That price is just too much. How can you ask this of me?"

"Listen son, it may be the only choice. The greed of those with the power is too great, they wish to be the only ones with power, the only ones who words carry the weight of the spirits. They will destroy everybody to do it. You may not know this but Many of the peoples of the plains have already died. And more will continue to die, to satisfy these peoples blood lust, unless you do what must be done, it is possible that none of the peoples of the plains will survive."

"Yes father, tell me how this can be done and I will do it."

title: [OC]Tribal Prologue; The Book of Jon

question: What does the article say about magic?

answer: That magic allows the protagonist to summon the elements, change the weather, and destroy the enemies of his people. He has been the most powerful of his people, and now he's the last. When an assassin comes to village to kill him, the protagonist immobilizes him with the power of the air around him. He turns the air around the assassin as thick as stone, a simple trick taught early to those blessed by the ancestors. The connection between the spirit world and the world of the living is what allows magic to exist. The protagonist's elders want him to destroy this connection because many have abused the power.


text:
_AOTEADRILLIA ALPHA_ is an extinct species of sea snail, a marine gastropod mollusk in the family Horaiclavidae.[1]

Description

The length of the shell attains 12 mm, its diameter 4.5 mm.

Distribution

This extinct marine species was endemic to New Zealand. The holotype was found at the sea cliffs east of Lake Ferry, Palliser Bay, and off South Wairarapa.

[1] Marshall, B. (2015). Aoteadrillia alpha (L. C. King, 1933) †. In: MolluscaBase (2015). Accessed through: World Register of Marine Species at http://www.marinespecies.org/aphia.php?p=taxdetails&id=831540 on 2016-12-26

title: Aoteadrillia alpha

question: What type of species is Aoteadrillia alpha?

answer: Sea snail

question: Where can Aoteadrillia alpha be found?

answer: It used to be endemic to New Zealand but is now extinct.

question: When was Aoteadrillia alpha first described?

answer: That information can't be found.

question: Describe the physical appearance of Aoteadrillia alpha.

answer: Its shell attains 12 mm, and its diameter is 4.5 mm.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Aoteadrillia alpha is an extinct species of sea snail that was endemic to New Zealand.


text:
The BEDMINSTER TOWNSHIP SCHOOL DISTRICT is a community public school district that serves students in pre-kindergarten through eighth grade from Bedminster, New Jersey, United States.[1]

As of the 2017-18 school year, the district and its one school had an enrollment of 526 students and 54.9 classroom teachers (on an FTE basis), for a student–teacher ratio of 9.6:1.[2]

The district is classified by the New Jersey Department of Education as being in District Factor Group “I”, the second-highest of eight groupings. District Factor Groups organize districts statewide to allow comparison by common socioeconomic characteristics of the local districts. From lowest socioeconomic status to highest, the categories are A, B, CD, DE, FG, GH, I and J.[3]

Public school students in ninth through twelfth grades attend Bernards High School,[4] as part of a sending/receiving relationship with the Somerset Hills Regional School District, a K - 12 district that also serves students from Bernardsville, Far Hills and Peapack-Gladstone.[5] As of the 2017-18 school year, the high school had an enrollment of 852 students and 67.8 classroom teachers (on an FTE basis), for a student–teacher ratio of 12.6:1.[6]

School

Bedminster Township Public School had an enrollment of 523 students in the 2017-18 school year.[7][8]

-   Corby Swan, Principal[9]

Bedminster Township Public School offers a variety of competitive sports. They have had most notable success in boys and girls basketball.

Administration

Core members of the district's administration are:[10][11]

-   Jennifer Giordano, Superintendent[12]
-   Alicia M. Schauer, Business Administrator / Board Secretary[13]

The district's board of education has nine members who set policy and oversee the fiscal and educational operation of the district through its administration. As a Type II school district, the board's trustees are elected directly by voters to serve three-year terms of office on a staggered basis, with three seats up for election each year held (since 2012) as part of the November general election.[14][15]

[1] Bedminster Township Board of Education District Policy - Identification, Bedminster Township School District. Accessed January 30, 2020. “Purpose: The Board of Education exists for the purpose of providing a thorough and efficient system of free public education in grades Kindergarten through eight in the Bedminster Township School District. Composition: The Bedminster Township School District is all the area within the municipal boundaries of Bedminster Township.”

[2] District information for Bedminster Township Public School District, National Center for Education Statistics. Accessed November 1, 2019.

[3] NJ Department of Education District Factor Groups (DFG) for School Districts, New Jersey Department of Education. Accessed December 6, 2014.

[4] Bedminster Township School 2016 Report Card Narrative, New Jersey Department of Education. Accessed May 19, 2017. “After graduation from the 8th grade, the majority of our students attend Bernards High School.”

[5] Somerset County School Districts-Sending/Receiving/Regional, Somerset County Superintendent of Schools. Accessed May 19, 2017.

[6] School data for Bernards High School, National Center for Education Statistics. Accessed November 1, 2019.

[7] School Data for the Bedminster Township Public School, National Center for Education Statistics. Accessed November 1, 2019.

[8] New Jersey School Directory for the Bedminster Township Public School, New Jersey Department of Education. Accessed December 29, 2016.

[9] Principal, Bedminster Township Public School. Accessed January 30, 2020.

[10] New Jersey School Directory for Somerset County, New Jersey Department of Education. Accessed December 29, 2016.

[11] _2018-2019 Somerset County Public School Directory_, Somerset County, New Jersey. Accessed January 30, 2020.

[12] Superintendent's Message, Bedminster Township Public School. Accessed January 30, 2020.

[13] Business Office, Bedminster Township Public School. Accessed January 30, 2020.

[14] New Jersey Boards of Education by District Election Types - 2018 School Election, New Jersey Department of Education, updated February 16, 2018. Accessed January 26, 2020.

[15] Board of Education, Bedminster Township Public School. Accessed January 30, 2020.

title: Bedminster Township School District

question: What does the text say about the Bedminster Township School District?

answer: Bedminster Township School District is a community public school district that serves students in the pre-kindergarten through eighth grade from Bedminster, New Jersey, United States.

question: What does the text say about the school?

answer: The school had an enrollment of 523 students in the 2017-18 schoolyear. Their principal is Corby Swan. The school also offers a variety of competitive sports and has the most notable success in basketball.

question: What does the text say about the administration of this school district?

answer: Core members of the district's administration are Jennifer Giordano, the superintendent, and Alicia Schauer, the business administrator/board secretary.

question: What does the story say about running a school district?


text:
_LAST DAY OF SUMMER_ is a collaborative studio album by British instrumental rock band Sons of Alpha Centauri and American instrumental rock band Treasure Cat. It was released on 7 October 2009 under the imprint of Underdogma Records.[1]

Production

In 2006, Nick Hannon spoke to William Mecum of Karma to Burn, asking if he would be interested in coming to the United Kingdom to record with Sons of Alpha Centauri. Mecum accepted and chose to bring Roy Brewer, the drummer from Treasure Cat, his band at the time.[2] Mecum and Brewer recorded three tracks with members of Sons of Alpha Centauri under the moniker Alpha Cat, with the final album also consisting of four Sons of Alpha Centauri tracks and four Treasure Cat tracks. The collaborative, co-produced split release was deemed to be one of the first of its kind.[3]

The Alpha Cat and Sons of Alpha Centauri tracks were recorded with Jim Riley at Ranscombe Studios in Rochester, Kent, while the Treasure Cat tracks were recorded at Zone 8 Studios in Granville, West Virginia.[4] The recording and release of the album marked the beginning of an ongoing working partnership between Sons of Alpha Centauri and Karma to Burn.[5]

Themes

Although the music contain no lyrics, the artwork, composed by Jimbo Valentine,[6] is visibly influenced by conspiracy theories such as the New World Order, the moon landing hoax, the writings of Zecharia Sitchin, Anglo-American relations (including the Special Relationship) and mass surveillance.[7]

Critical reception

Upon its release, _Last Day of Summer_ received generally favourable reviews from music critics, receiving an average score of 3.67 out of 5 on Rate Your Music.[8] _Lords of Metal_ described the album as “varied, strong, steaming, superb production and set into a great jacket.”[9] Of the album's instrumental nature, _The Sleeping Shaman_ said that the “vocals are not missed at all, due to the dynamic feel and structure of the music.”[10]

_Altsounds_ commented that the album strayed away from Sons of Alpha Centauri's usual sound, stating that “whereas they previously lulled us into a false sense of calm before ripping across the musical spectrum like cutting comment at a hostile band practice, here they unleash the beast and just give us the best of everything they've got.”[11] _Disagreement.net_ praised the collaborative Alpha Cat tracks, stating that they “link [the two bands'] genres which after all are not that dissimilar to make _Last Day of Summer_ an incoherent listening experience.”[12] Steve Howe of The Sludgelord, a rock blog, described the album as “a sprawling instrumental stoner rock odyssey packed with blazing riffs from two bands at the top of their game,” adding that he felt it was “one of 2009's best instrumental rock albums.”[13]

_Deaf Sparrow_ gave the album a mixed review, commenting that the Alpha Cat tracks “are scrambled in the sequence, perhaps as an effort to put both bands in the same plane.”[14] _RockFreaks.net_ were pleased with the album but did not find it unique, stating that “if you disregard the undeniable excitement that comes from realizing how this project approaches genius in the way that it has been put together, the songs aren't actually that amazing as standalone tracks.”[15]

Track listing

Personnel

Credits for _Last Day of Summer_ adapted from Discogs.[16]

-   Rory Alderson – engineer
-   Stevie B. – drums
-   Blake – sound manipulation
-   Roy Brewer – drums
-   Matthew Cross – bass guitar
-   Marlon King – electric guitar
-   Wesley King – photography
-   Nick Hannon – bass guitar
-   William Mecum – electric guitar
-   Mark Poole – producer, mixing
-   Jim Riley – producer, mastering
-   Bob Williams – photography

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

title: Last Day of Summer (Sons of Alpha Centauri and Treasure Cat album)

question: What is the Last Day of Summer?

answer: It is a collaborative studio album by British instrumental rock band Sons of Alpha Centauri and American instrumental rock band Treasure Cat released in 2007.

question: What is Alpha Cat?

answer: Alpha Cat is the moniker the two instrumental rock bands Treasure Cat and Sons of Alpha Centauri used for their collaborative album.

question: Where was The Last Day of Summer album recorded?

answer: The Alpha Cat and Sons of Alpha Centauri tracks were recorded with Jim Riley at Ranscombe Studios in Rochester, Kent, while the Treasure Cat tracks were recorded at Zone 8 Studios in Granville, West Virginia.

question: What did the critics say about the Last Day of Summer album when it was released?

answer: The album received generally favorable reviews from music critics.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The Last Day of Summer is a collaborative album from instrumental rock bands Sons of Alpha Centauri (UK) and Treasure Cat (USA) released on October 7, 2009, under the moniker "Alpha Cat." The collaborative, co-produced split release was deemed to be one of the first of its kind at the time. The Last Days of Summer received generally favorable reviews from music critics and an average score of 3.67 out of 5 on Rate Your Music.


text:
AT GOOGLE they call it the toothbrush test. Shortly after returning to being the firm’s chief executive in 2011, Larry Page said he wanted it to develop more services that everyone would use at least twice a day, like a toothbrush. Its search engine and its Android operating system for mobile devices pass that test. Now, with a string of recent acquisitions, Google seems to be planning to become as big in hardware as it is in software, developing “toothbrush” products in a variety of areas from robots to cars to domestic-heating controls.

Its latest purchase is Nest Labs, a maker of sophisticated thermostats and smoke detectors: on January 13th Google said it would pay $3.2 billion in cash for the firm. Google’s biggest move into hardware so far is its $12.5 billion bid for Motorola Mobility, a handset-maker, in 2011. In recent months it has been mopping up robotics firms (see table), most notably Boston Dynamics, which makes two- and four-legged machines with names like BigDog and Cheetah that can walk and run. Google’s in-house engineers have also been busy working on driverless cars and wearable gadgets such as Google Glass.

[]

Nest takes Google into the home-appliance business, which is how another, much older American conglomerate got started. General Electric (GE) produced its first electric fans in the 1890s and then went on to develop a full line of domestic heating and cooking devices in 1907, before expanding into the industrial and financial behemoth that is still going strong today.

The common factor shared by GE’s early products was electricity, something businesses were then just learning to exploit. With Google’s collection of hardware businesses, the common factor is data: gathering and crunching them, to make physical devices more intelligent.

Even so, the question is whether Google can knit the diverse businesses it is developing and acquiring into an even more profitable engineering colossus—or whether it is in danger of squandering billions. Concern that the firm could make overpriced acquisitions has grown along with the size of its cash pile, now around $57 billion. Eyebrows were raised this week when the price for Nest was revealed. Morgan Stanley, a bank, reckons it represents ten times Nest’s estimated annual revenue. (Google’s executive chairman, Eric Schmidt, is a non-executive director of The Economist Group.)

Why fork out so much for a startup that makes such banal things as thermostats? Paul Saffo of Discern Analytics, a research firm, argues that Google is already adept at profiting from the data people generate in the form of search queries, e-mails and other things they enter into computers. It has been sucking in data from smartphones and tablet computers thanks to the success of Android, and apps such as Google Maps. To keep growing, and thus to justify its shares’ lofty price-earnings ratio of 33, it must find ever more devices to feed its hunger for data.

Packed with sensors and software that can, say, detect that the house is empty and turn down the heating, Nest’s connected thermostats generate plenty of data, which the firm captures. Tony Fadell, Nest’s boss, has often talked about how Nest is well-positioned to profit from “the internet of things”—a world in which all kinds of devices use a combination of software, sensors and wireless connectivity to talk to their owners and one another.

Other big technology firms are also joining the battle to dominate the connected home. This month Samsung announced a new smart-home computing platform that will let people control washing machines, televisions and other devices it makes from a single app. Microsoft, Apple and Amazon were also tipped to take a lead there, but Google was until now seen as something of a laggard. “I don’t think Google realised how fast the internet of things would develop,” says Tim Bajarin of Creative Strategies, a consultancy.

Buying Nest will allow it to leapfrog much of the opposition. It also brings Google some stellar talent. Mr Fadell, who led the team that created the iPod while at Apple, has a knack for breathing new life into stale products. His skills and those of fellow Apple alumni at Nest could be helpful in other Google hardware businesses, such as Motorola Mobility.

Google has said little about its plans for its new robotics businesses. But it is likely to do what it did with driverless cars: take a technology financed by military contracts and adapt it for the consumer market. In future, personal Googlebots could buzz around the house, talking constantly to a Nest home-automation platform.

The challenge for Mr Page will be to ensure that these new businesses make the most of Google’s impressive infrastructure without being stifled by the bureaucracy of an organisation that now has 46,000 employees. Google has had to overcome sclerosis before. Soon after returning as boss, Mr Page axed various projects and streamlined the management.

Nest is being allowed to keep its separate identity and offices, with Mr Fadell reporting directly to Mr Page. Google has also protected its in-house hardware projects, such as Google Glass and self-driving cars, from succumbing to corporate inertia by nurturing them in its secretive Google X development lab. It has also given its most important projects high-profile bosses with the clout to champion them internally. The new head of Google’s robotics business is Andy Rubin, who led the successful development of Android.

Such tactics are good ways to avoid the pitfalls of conglomeration. But to ensure success, Google will need to avoid another misstep. Its chequered record on data-privacy issues means that Nest and other divisions will be subject to intense scrutiny by privacy activists and regulators. Provided it can retain the confidence of its users on this, Google should be able to find plenty of new opportunities in both software and hardware that pass the toothbrush test and keep a bright smile on its shareholders’ faces.

This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline "The new GE: Google, everywhere"

question: What is Google's Toothbrush test all about?

answer: CEO Larry Page coined the term when he said he wanted Google to develop more services that everyone would use at least twice a day, like a toothbrush.

question: What company did Google recently purchase?

answer: Nest Labs

question: Where would the acquisition of Nest Labs take Google?

answer: With Nest Labs, Google moves into the home-appliance business and the connected home, courtesy of IoT.

question: What does Morgan Stanley (the bank) say about the price Google paid for Nest Labs?

answer: They say the $3.2 billion Google paid represents ten times Nest's estimated annual revenue, which means Google overpaid.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: When Larry Page returned as CEO of Google in 2011, he wanted to focus on "toothbrush" products, or products people were going to use at least twice a day, like a toothbrush. Google goes on a spending spree, acquiring companies such as Motorola Mobility, a handset maker, and Boston Dynamics, a robotics firm. The most important acquisition Google made was for Nest Labs, maker of thermostats and smoke detectors because the move will take them into the home-appliance business connected via IoT. The move also positions Google to go head-to-head with other tech giants such as Amazon, Apple, and Microsoft, who are also developing IoT solutions for the home.


text:
ANNE WHITE (born September 28, 1961) is an American former professional tennis player from Charleston, West Virginia. She is most famous for wearing a white body suit at Wimbledon in 1985.[1][2]

Early life

White attended John Adams Junior High School.[3] She then graduated from George Washington High School in Charleston, West Virginia, and went on to become a two-time All-American tennis player at the University of Southern California.[4]

Family background

Anne's father, Pete White, played basketball for Clendenin High School.[5]

1985 Wimbledon Championships

White, who was playing fifth seed Pam Shriver in the first round at Wimbledon in 1985 on an outer court, warmed up in a tracksuit. When she took the tracksuit off to start play, she revealed that she was wearing a white, one-piece, lycra body suit, which attracted a lot of attention from the crowd and the photographers. With the match tied at one set all, play was stopped for the day because of bad light, and the tournament referee, Alan Mills, told her to wear more appropriate clothing the next day. She did so, and lost the third set, but the incident was widely reported.[6][7][8] She was later quoted as saying, “I had no idea it would be so controversial.”[9]

Results

White won her only singles title at Phoenix, Arizona, on March 9, 1987, beating the top seeded Dianne Balestrat in the final. She reached the semifinals of the women's doubles in the 1984 U.S. Open and in 1985 in the French Open.

Career earnings and prize money

White claims that her career earnings are more than a million dollars (possibly including endorsements and other monies).[10] According to official WTA records, her career prize money is $411,022 ranking her at 605th all time as of 8/1/2016.[11]

Career finals

Singles (1 title, 1 runner up)

  Outcome     No.   Date           Tournament                                 Surface   Opponent           Score
  ----------- ----- -------------- ------------------------------------------ --------- ------------------ ----------
  Runner-up   1.    17 June 1984   Edgbaston Cup, United Kingdom              Grass     Pam Shriver        6–7, 3–6
  Winner      2.    9 March 1987   Virginia Slims of Arizona, United States   Hard      Dianne Balestrat   6–2, 6–1

Grand Slam singles tournament timeline

  Tournament        1980    1981    1982    1983    1984    1985    1986    1987    Career SR
  ----------------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- -----------
  Australian Open   A       2R      1R      2R      1R      A       NH      A       0 / 4
  French Open       A       3R      3R      3R      4R      3R      1R      A       0 / 6
  Wimbledon         A       1R      3R      2R      1R      1R      1R      2R      0 / 7
  U.S. Open         2R      2R      2R      4R      3R      3R      1R      1R      0 / 8
  SR                0 / 1   0 / 4   0 / 4   0 / 4   0 / 4   0 / 3   0 / 3   0 / 2   0 / 25

NH = tournament not held.

A = did not participate in the tournament.

SR = the ratio of the number of Grand Slam singles tournaments won to the number of those tournaments played.

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11] http://www.wtatennis.com/SEWTATour-Archive/Rankings_Stats/All_Career_Prize_Money.pdf

title: Anne White

question: What sport did Anne White play?

answer: Anne White was a tennis player. She is most famous for wearing white at Wimbledon. She was a two-time All-American tennis player at the University of Southern California.

question: What happened at the Wimbledon championship in 1985?

answer: White warmed up in a tracksuit before playing fifth seed Pam Shriver. When she took off the tracksuit, she revealed that she was wearing a white, one-piece, lycra body suit, which attracted a lot of attention. When the match was tied at one set, play was stopped because of bad light. The referee asked her to wear more appropriate clothing the next day. White was quoted as saying she had no idea it would be so controversial.


text:
If Looks Could Kill.

Nothing could describe the fear I felt when I looked into her eyes.
It was cold. Leaves scattered the ground, and the gravel under my back felt like sharpened icicles on my skin.
The physical cold was only compounded by her eyes.
My God, those eyes.
Those piercing, icy blue eyes that seemed to tear a path to my heart like a frozen bullet. Those eyes that
stopped the hypothermia and started melting me from the inside out, igniting a burning passion to thaw out
my long dead love life. The contrasting feelings caused a slight sense of excitement.
But I knew that this couldn't happen.
She reaches down to help me up, I thought she meant to harm.
Where am I? That's all I can think. Who is she? What did she do?
I slap her arm away. She looks offended.
What happened?
I try to sit up, and suddenly feel a sharp pain in my back.
I'm not going anywhere.
My legs don't work.
Upon this realization, my back follows suit, and I quickly feel the pangs of frozen rock on my back.
For the first time in my life, I panic. I truly panic.
She leans in close.
Panic.
Who is she? Did she do this to me?
Suddenly I become aware of sounds. Noises. Like an infant in a game of peek-a-boo, I cannot seem to
comprehend where these sounds were coming from.
But it's starting to clear up.
I look back into her eyes. Crystal blue ice turns to lightning as I feel her gaze connect with mine.
Are you okay? She asks, as if I can understand her.
I should understand.
I can't.
More panic.
The sounds are becoming more clear. Her voice. It was muffled, but I could understand it.
Are you okay?
It's clearing up.
It's being slowly drowned out.
What's that noise?
It's like.. a.. siren. That's what it is.
A siren.
Getting louder.
Are you okay?
No, I'm not. If only I could tell her that. My voice isn't working.
I turn my head sideways. A bicycle. My bicycle? I don't recognize it. But I don't recognize my shirt either.
The siren. It's stopped. The woman. She's getting up.
Don't go.
Please, I'm not scared anymore.
We can happen.
I just remembered, my arms work.
I reach out. Grab her hand.
Static. No, more than a static shock. Something. The connection. It's there. Why is it there?
My back. Oh man, my back. The pain. The fear.
Panic.
I look away. A car. An ambulance creeping up. The car is really close. I can almost touch it. But I'm touching her.
Her, with the frozen bullet eyes.
Two men. Running. To me.
Running to me. I'm not letting go of her hand.
They touch me. She touches me. She has the electric fingers.
They push her away. I wish I could protest, but my voice still betrays me.
She lets go.
I try to keep looking at her, but the men are in my way.
The lights on the ambulance are bright.
But they are getting dimmer.
The men are trying to move me.
It hurts.
They pick me up.
Please, stop. I can't tell you, but please. See my face. I'm hurting. Don't move me.
I swing at the one on my left. He stumbles back and drops me back on the gound.
They tell me to calm down. They are trying to help after all.
Their voices. Getting quieter as they talk.
Panic.
I look around as much as I can.
Every time I make a move, the world gets a bit darker.
Where is she?
I have to see her again.
The men pick me up. I have no more strength to contest.
She's behind them.
Her eyes. Her stormy, lightning blue eyes. Clouded by tears, she just stands there, watching.
I'm watching too.
But not for long.
I want to tell her.
Her eyes are comfort. They are all I needed.
The men move me to the ambulance. I think. I don't really care.
The sounds have faded some.
I can still see her from the back of the ambulance. Wait. They shut the doors.
She's gone.
Panic.
Someone is in here with me. They move so fast that I only see them as a blur.
It's getting darker.
Darker.
Panic.
The blur is asking me questions.
What is my name?
It asks me, but I can't seem to recall.
I can only remember her. Those eyes.
The next question I'm asked fades to silence.
Panic.
What color was her hair?
I didn't even notice.
I've been moving too much.
Things are almost out of sight.
The pain is gone.
I feel like I'm slipping.
Darker.
I'm just going to rest my eyes. I'm sure the blur won't mind. It's too dark to see in here anyway.
This just makes it easier to see her eyes.
I can hear some sounds.
The siren is back.
I think my eyes are still closed.
Either way, it's dark.
I feel like she touched my chest just now. The electricity was there. Both hands, bare flesh. The jolt startled me, and I knew she was there.
I open my eyes. The blur is still there, but she isn't.
Panic.
I try to sit up, but the blur holds me down. The effort must have broke my back.
The pain is back.
My eyes are adjusting to the darkness. I can see the blur. It's one of the men. The one I swung at.
The other one. Where is he?
I look around the best I can.
He's driving.
Someone is in the passenger seat.
A girl.
Her hair. Red. Burning.
It's her. I remember. She has red hair.
I reach out towards her. Point.
The man looks at her.
We stop moving. The ambulance stops screaming.
The men come to the back, and she is there with them.
I take her hand. The men move me out and wheel me on a bed toward a building.
She comes with me.
They are moving me really fast. Everything is blurring, except for her.
But her electric touch is losing its spark. Her icy blue eyes no longer reach as deep. Her burnt auburn hair is getting dimmer.
I'm moving too much.
It's dark again. I heard voices a minute ago, but now it's silent again.
Her touch. The electric fingers on my chest. I feel it. Three times.
But my eyes won't open.
I feel it a fourth time, stronger than ever.
All of my senses come rushing back to me. I can see her.
I wonder if my voice works.
I have to try.
I love you.
I said it.
I heard it.
My voice was weak, but I said it.
And now it's fading again.
I don't think she can bring me back.
The sounds are fading again, but not as fast as my vision.
The darkness returns, and I hear a soft voice.
It's her voice.
It's all I needed. I don't have to wonder.
The voice. It told me what I needed to hear.
I love you too.
She loves me.
It's the last thing I hear before the silence returns.
I don't think I can come back.
Her touch sparks agains my chest.
But it isn't enough.
At least I know how she feels.
The burning hair matched with the freezing blue eyes.
If looks could kill..
If looks could kill then she'd be the last thing I ever see.
I'd be fine with that.

title: Decided to try a little bit of writing, what do you think?

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: They are an unnamed man.

question: What has happened to the narrator?

answer: They have gotten into some kind of accident and are injured.

question: What does the narrator immediately notice about the girl?

answer: Her blue eyes.

question: Does the narrator make it alive by the end of the story?

answer: It is unclear whether or not they are alive by the end of the story.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator gains consciousness after getting into some kind of accident. He is in pain and confused when a woman asks him if he's ok. He notices her blue eyes while in his frenzied state. The sound of sirens becomes clearer and do medics rush to pick him up. He is going in and out of consciousness. He tells the woman he loves her and she responds that she loves him.


text:
First things first- I've never seen The Birds. This story is influenced solely by the final scenes within Stephen King's *The Dark Half*. If you have read it, I hope you appreciate my take/twist on it. If you haven't, enjoy anyway.

...

The crows outside his window grew in number every night. He first noticed them with the arrival of what they called the “storm of the century.” Exaggeration or not, it certainly was a powerful storm by anyone’s standards. He, as he always was during these kinds of events, was sitting by his window watching the lightning dance and leap across the glowing sky. Storms had caught his love early in life. He had regularly stood by his front door with his father searching for signs of trouble in the sky while the rest of his family sought shelter in the closet. That’s what confused him most: The skies themselves took the opportunity to communicate with the ground below; why ignore them? They were destructive, yes, but they were beautiful.

This destructive beauty was all around him: The winds swept up a miniature twister of dead leaves, whipped the rain to nearly horizontal angles, shook the trees until they cried out in protest, and then shook them some more. He thought he even heard Ms. Lear’s old oak succumb to the stress, though he couldn’t be sure over the explosions of thunder.

The intensity of the storm almost made it seem calmer than it actually was. The glimpses of the outside world illuminated by the flashes of lightning were more frequent than not; it was almost as if it was midday and there were flashes of nighttime instead.

Caught in this light was a gnarled dead tree. Its bark was long gone; its leaves he’d never seen. He almost imagined that, with them, its branches had been like ragged hands, grasping at whatever ventured near them, waving to people in the breeze. Perhaps it used to walk the Earth, finally settling down here to wither away and die. That tree always bothered him; he didn’t exactly know why. It wasn’t like he’d ever had reason to distrust it, that is, if one could call what he felt toward it distrust. All that it’d ever really done was stand there, gently swaying, branches slowly tracing their fingers through the air. Nevertheless, he’d done his best to avoid going near it whenever possible.

The lightning seemed to have begun to die down. The lapses into darkness between the strikes became longer, but, as if to reaffirm its might, a bolt with the brightness of a star’s filament of flame suddenly lit up the sky. He slammed his eyelids shut yet the light burned through. He summoned the strength to open them no more than a hair’s breadth and, his face contorted in the light’s overwhelming intensity, collapsed to the floor with his face buried between his knees when the blast of thunder came. His house shook from the force: photos crashed off their spots on the wall and his collection of odds and ends he’d picked up over the years jumped off its resting place on his desk onto the floor as if in search of shelter. He feared his roof would collapse: luckily, it held. Whoever said that it was the lightning to fear, not the thunder, obviously never experienced such an explosion. Instinctive fear and deep respect reverberated through him.

After the last echoes passed, he slowly raised his head and focused his eyes back out the window onto the grey tree. What he saw there on one of the spindly branches stunned him more than the storm did. A lone crow sat there, its eyes met with his. Its gaze never wavered; it seemed completely oblivious to the tempest around it even as the branch it was perched on shook violently. He sat there staring for what felt like eons. He felt powerless to break his gaze until, without warning, the bird opened its beak (he didn’t know whether or not it cawed; he could hardly hear anything but the sound of the deluge bombarding the ground) and, with a sudden leap, took flight and disappeared in another flash of lightning. Equally without warning, a wave of lightheadedness overcame him and he toppled over.

---

The rain had yet to drain out of the yard by the next evening. Leaves and other debris floated lifelessly on the unnaturally still water, giving them the appearance of resting upon giant mirrors. The sky was a dead grey and still; the winds had ceased completely. A dense fog carpeted the ground: He could hardly see beyond what he guessed to be thirty feet. The dead tree was just within the reach of this fog; it was the only thing assuring him that the ground still existed below the mist.

He was leaned back in his recliner, *The Dark Half* in hand. Thad Beaumont and Alexis Machine were about to face off; the battle between good and evil was nigh. Shame I don’t have any sparrows on hand, he thought with a slight chuckle. He was about to flip pages when the sound of rustling feathers broke the silence. A feeling not unlike a trickle of cold water inched its way up his spine as he slowly closed his book. Setting it down, he rose, head slightly cocked, and approached his window. Outside, sitting in the tree’s open hands, were crows. Nineteen crows, all perched on the dead tree’s limbs, all facing directly at him. They shuffled their feet, their wings, but not an eye moved from him. He knew not the purpose of their gathering and was highly unnerved; he dared not move but, betraying his will, blinked once. As if the spell was broken, one of the birds on the tree’s left let out a cry. The rest of the group silently took flight and disappeared into the low clouds. He watched them quickly disappear into the fog. It was as if they vanished: One second they were churning up the air, the next it was as if they were never there.

He hoped never to see them again, that this was their last visit to him.

---

It wasn't.

---

title: The Murder - First shot at creative writing (Little longer, split it up)

question: Summarize the storm that took place.

answer: The storm was billed as 'the storm of the century' with lightning dancing across the glowing sky accentuated by explosions of thunder. The winds swept up miniature twisters of leaves, made it rain at horizontal angles and shook the trees until they cried in protest. The lapses into darkness became longer and a final massive bolt sprang across the sky all the while the rain streamed down. The rain was yet to drain by the next evening, the sky was grey and still and a dense fog covered the ground.

question: What role do the crows play in the story?

answer: The crows visit the narrator as an omen. At the end of the storm of the century and after a bolt of thunder that shook the house, a crow appears and holds the narrator's gaze before the narrator blacks out. The next day the narrator sat down to read a book and nineteen crows appeared. The narrator felt uneasy at this sight, when he blinked the crows started to rise into the air and vanished. He hoped to never see them again.

question: Summarize the surprises in the plot.

answer: The narrator stands at a window and watches a massive storm, the last bolt of lightning shakes his house and blinds him. A strange tree close to his house has a single crow on when he opens his eyes again. The narrator passes out at the sight of it. The next night nineteen crows gather in the strange tree. The narrator has an uneasy feeling, and when he breaks eye contact the crows take flight and disappear. The narrator hopes not to see the crows again.

question: Summarize the similarities between this story and Stephen King's The Dark Half.