text:
I am your emotions; your hate and anger, I am "the one that got away", and the answers to your questions. I am everything you strive to be and everything you hate. Trapped within your own consciousness. I am you,  the edge of your mind and inside your mind, the guiding hand and your gut feeling. I am the voice within your head, your taughts and feelings, I am everything you are, body and mind.  You are a passenger and spectating your own life, your feelings are not yours, they are mine. You'll never know I exists but I will always be with you, the hand to help you up and the voice of reason.

You will meet me one day. I am bound by your imagination, together we are trapped, locked deep within your subconscious. You only need set us free. One day you will meet me and when that day comes you will finally meet yourself and learn who you are.

title: First time posting. But anyway taught of this the other night wanted to see what you guys think.

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: The metaphorical voice that is in a person's head.

question: Why does the narrator need freeing?

answer: They are trapped in the person's subconscious.

question: What does the voice want from the person?

answer: The voice wants the person to free whatever is trapped in their own consciousness so they'll meet.

question: Name three things that the narrator used to describe what they are.

answer: The voice of reason, the guiding hand, the person's gut feeling.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The voice in the person's head is saying that the person will get to know themselves when whatever is locked deep in their subconscious is freed.


split: train

text:
CHAPTER ONE:
TWO FEET OF SNOW

	Things have changed. I guess you know that. But not just in the obvious way.
Some people  accept the way things are now and I guess that's the easiest way to survive. I wish I was like them, but I'm not. Things are different in us, the survivors.
A shitty day used to mean a lot of things, none of which mattered in the least. And awful day- that's what you said if someone died before their time, or even after. Grandma died, that was 'an awful day' that was the what used to be normal. But today death is commonplace, and if your best friend is bit by a walker and you have to put a bullet in him, that's just another shitty day.
Before it happened, before awful became shitty and shitty was standard, I was on my way to being a writer. I guess that's why I'm doing this now. So if you're reading this it's because I'm dead and I thought someone should know what happened to us. Maybe it will make a difference. Maybe you'll appreciate your companions more than I did mine.
I've been snowed in for the past month, supplies are low. Everything's low. There's no use trying to trek outside, not unless you want to freeze to death. Though that may be a good way to go. The truth is I won't survive the week. Every ounce of energy I have is going into writing this. Some of us will do what we have to to survive. That's not me. It was once, but now I want us all to survive. And the only way to do that is to tell a story and hope people learn from it. This place won't be secret for long- a big house in the middle of nowhere, in the spring this will probably be a territory worth killing for, my words will be found eventually, but for now it's a tomb. And this is my last will and testament.

 * * * *

I guess I can skip the first few months, the only people who don't know what happened that day are those who are still too young to remember it, and this is not a story for children. By the third month I had lost everyone I had known before it started. That's not to say they all died exactly, some I really did just lose. My sister, for example, she was a financial adviser for a fortune five hundred company in London, but she traveled almost daily. I think she was in the  Netherlands when it started here. I don't know where it began really, it seemed to be everywhere all at once. But phones went down pretty soon and I'm ashamed to say I called an ex before I called my sister, and one call is all you got.
I used to call her Bambi so I'll use that name here, Bambi and I were what was left of our family after the divorce, our mom left us when she left our dad. We never forgave her, but then again she never gave us reason to. We were left with a drunk who among other things liked to take his failures out on his children. My sister learned quick that to live outside his rule she'd have to be successful in something. We never had money, so she chose that. Community college and a few math scholarships later she was on her way to a well paying job as an assistant a year after graduation. She moved up the ladder pretty quick, all she had to do was show her bosses that what they were doing was wrong how they could make more money if they followed her advice and it was off to the races for Bambi.
She felt bad about leaving me, like she had inherited some abandoning gene from our mom but I told her to go and live her life, I would graduate soon and by the time I did she would have a place big enough for both of us to share. She'd be traveling most of the time but that just meant I'd pay half the rent on a place I basically had for myself. But when graduation came she was too hot to stop, she had a place in Paris she couldn't give up- living in France was her dream since she was young, and even then she was never there long enough to enjoy it. I told her it was okay, that we would meet up when she came stateside but that turned out to be once or twice a year at the most. She sent me money whenever I was too broke to decline, and she called at least once a month. I can't blame her for succeeding, and I wouldn't want to even if I could. The honest to goodness truth is I was so proud of her for doing what she did, for keeping her head down and just doing the work- for enduring our father until she didn't have to anymore, that I was just happy that she was living the life she'd set for herself. And in a way I was too. I had a studio apartment in downtown Manhattan. I felt like Holden Caufield on his mini vacation after being thrown out of school, or one of Bukowski's barflies. I was living on my own above a bar that never closed, I was smoking cigarettes in my room and staying up all night writing pages and tossing them as soon as I wrote 'The End.'
These are the things that make a writer happy. Not that I was a real writer. More like a professional imitator of styles. If I was in the mood for poetry I'd look at some E.E Cummings and do my best to steal everything he’d written, someone thought I had some potential and paid me an advance to write some generic pieces about being young in the city. I gave him three thousand words on the importance of writing a grocery list before going shopping. I was five hundred dollars in the hole but I didn't care. Debt was just a part of what being a young writer in the city's all about. And that's how it was for a while, just me and my thoughts.
Then, one day, I got a call from a friend I'd known in school. She lived upstate and had asked me to come to her wedding. I didn't even know she was engaged but I told her I'd love to come. I wrote three ten pages essays in an many days for some friends who were going to N.Y.U for the tuxedo money and a graduation speech for the car rental. It had been a long time since I had driven a car- I relished it.
I couldn't get a convertible but I'd been making do with what I had my whole life. What's a convertible compared to a thoughtfully over compensated sound system? I swear just one hour on the road and my throat was fire-red and scratchy from singing full volume by myself.  I spent a quiet night at a roadside motel, I guess that could have been when it all started. I was so tired from the road that I didn't even turn the TV on. The next day I knew I'd probably just barely make the ceremony if I left as soon as soon as I got up so I got fully dressed before leaving. I was dreading the conversation with the hotel manager- “Why're you in a tuxedo? Are you queer 'er some'in?”
But when I went to check out there was no one there. I looked around but I couldn't wait much longer so I wrote down my name and credit card number on a notepad and left. I accidentally took the pen with me- when I got to the car I stopped and almost went back to return it. I decided they probably had plenty of pens, plus I was pretty pissed about not getting any service and feeling justified for having paid at all when I could have just left, the idiot never asked me for an ID or card or anything when I came in, he was almost too drunk to hand me my key. As it turned out, the decision about not returning the pen was what saved my life. And if you think too much on things like that- well if I just did that, or, if I didn't remember to do this- you'll drive yourself mad. Alive is alive is alive. And that's all there is to it. I said I wouldn't go into those first few months but, I guess if I'm to tell you the whole story I should start at the beginning. It was still summer, the hottest I remember. In certain situations, the same questions comes up time and time again, in prison it's what are you in for? Now, when you meet someone new and it looks like you're going to be in the same group for a while you ask “Who was your first kill?” but I always lied. I told anyone who asked that my first kill was the motel manager- the one I never saw after I checked in. I only told the truth once, to a girl named Emily. My first kill was a woman, a mother. And she had her children with her.

title: The Walking Dead: Winter Chronicles

question: What happened to the narrator's sister?

answer: The narrator doesn't know.

question: Who was Emily?

answer: A person the narrator told the truth about his first kill to.

question: What's changed, according to the narrator?

answer: After the apocalypse, peoples' views on hardship have changed.

question: What was Bambi's relation to the narrator?

answer: Their sister.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This story excerpt describes the narrator's thoughts on survival after a zombie apocalypse. They share their memories of their sister, their previous debts, and the day the apocalypse happened.


text:
P1: “I don’t like the way I feel right now. I doubt everything, but I think I’m being thoughtful but its like my thoughtfulness leads to doubts.”

P2: “What doubts do you have?”

P1: “I’m worried that I’m my ego is getting too big and I’m not really who I think I am.”

P2: “That’s interesting.”

P1:  “Five minutes ago I felt great… I felt like I was winning in life. I was thinking about ways to tell other people that they can do it too. Someone told me today that they can’t be smart like me and I tried to tell them that they could be just like me.  But who am I to have an ego? Why would anyone want to be like me?  I have flaws-big flaws.”

P2: “I would guess that’s where your doubt came in.”

P1: “Yes, I guess. What do you think?”

P2: “I think it’s normal to have doubts.”

P1: “That’s obvious…”

P2: “I have a friend who asked me to read a story she wrote. I’m not sure what to tell her. It needs a lot of improvement still.”

P1: “What’s wrong with it?”

P2: “It’s hard to describe exactly what is wrong with it. The story has promise, but I think she will be sad if I tell her I think it could be better written. The descriptions are too descriptive or something, introduces the reader to too much at once, and the dialog isn't believable, kind of flat. I wonder if I write that way… I think she should read it out loud, record it, and play it back. I don’t want to hurt her feelings so I probably won’t say anything.”

P1: “Sounds like you know exactly what is wrong with it.”

P2: “Not sure. What if it’s really good and I’m a bad friend with some unconscious desire to undermine something good?”

P1: (snort)

P2:  “What? What if that’s true?”

P1: “I know you and I know that the only thing you want to do is help her do it better. We’re alike you know.”

P2: “How so?”

P1: “We both have doubts.”

title: No title: Short fictional conversation.

question: How does P1's thoughtfulness lead to doubts?

answer: They start to think about their own flaws.

question: Is this some type of interview?

answer: It is unclear in the text.

question: Why does P2 not want to tell their friend they don't love her story?

answer: They don't want to hurt her feelings.

question: How, according to P1, are they and P2 similar?

answer: They both have doubts.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Two people-P1 and P2 in this story-are discussing ego and doubt, with the example of P2's not wanting to disclose to their friend that the story she wrote isn't great. P1 says P1 and P2 are similar in that they both have doubts.


text:
I sat down in my office chair and opened up my laptop. All I need is something to distract me from my life. All day I've been hearing about this new MMORPG called Identity. The premise of the game is simple, you can be whoever you want to be. I would love to be a knight in medieval times slaying dragons, or I could be a master engineer and create an army of robots to do my bidding. Sounds pretty great, I think to myself and I begin downloading it.

*beep*

My eyes open up and I check my watch, I must have fallen asleep while the game was downloading. It's only been a couple hours.
I see my reflection on my laptop screen and the left side of my face is imprinted with the texture of my mousepad. I chuckle and open the game.

*CREATE NEW ACCOUNT*

A huge button absorbs all the space on my screen, and after I click it a cutscene begins showing off all the things you can do in the game. That guy's a samurai, that's cool. Oh neat, you can be a soldier. This continues for a couple minutes until the cutscene flashes to a man sitting at his desk, it's so dark but the glare of his computer screen illuminates him and he appears to be face down on his keyboard.

*CREATE USERNAME*

Another window opens up, this is finally it, I can finally be whoever I want. I decide to be basic and just enter my own name.

R-O-S-S *ENTER*

Suddenly, my webcam turns on and my face appears on the screen along with a chat window. Then, a message appears.

"Do you know who you are?" I panic at this point, is this a practical joke of some sort? I'm not impressed. I try to click the X icon and close the window. It's not working. Again, a message appears in the chat window.

"Do you know who you are?" I stare at the screen and click a pen I found in my shirt pocket about 30 times as I decide whether I should play along. I finally type back,

"My name is Ross." My heart is pounding at this point, I have no access to the other functions of my computer. Another message,

"What is your identity?" I'm holding the power button on my laptop, I don't like this. I try to unplug it, it's not working. I pace around the house and finally work up the courage to type back,

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Don't give up your identity Ross." My webcam flashes but suddenly I'm no longer there on screen. I smack it with my hand, and I see myself face down on my keyboard with a bottle of pills spilled beside my head. My head turns, I'm foaming at the mouth. I see my front door open behind me as my sister rushes in to try to save me. I'm gripping my laptop screen with both hands now, and I'm crying.

I wake up in a hospital bed, with an IV attached to my arm. My sister jumps for joy and gives me a hug.

"I know you've been going through hard times, Ross." She says,
"But suicide isn't the answer to your problems. Who do you think you are?"

What's my identity? I could've been anything I wanted. I could've been a soldier, I could've had a family, I could've been anything I wanted. What I couldn't do, however, is stop myself from doing it again as soon as she left the room.

title: [NF] Identity

question: What does the story say about the narrator's state of mind?

answer: The story isn't clear about what's going on in the narrator's head. While he seems bored at first and bewildered after that, he's suicidal at the end. It could be that he's delirious or amnesiac because he seems to have committed suicide but can't remember doing so.

question: What does the story say about why the narrator is suicidal?


text:
KEVIN SIMM (born 3 December 1968) is an English professional darts player who competes in Professional Darts Corporation events.

Career

Simm reached the last 40 of the 2008 Winmau World Masters, losing to Robbie Green.

Simm qualified for the 2017 PDC World Darts Championship after reaching the Final of the PDPA Qualifier in Wigan.[1] He went on to beat Gilbert Ulang 2-0 in the preliminary round before losing 0-3 to Ian White in the first round.[2]

World Championship results

PDC

-   2017: First round (lost to Ian White 0–3)

[1]

[2]

title: Kevin Simm (darts player)

question: How old was Kevin Simm when he participated in the World Darts Championship?

answer: He was 49 years old.

question: What is the highest placement Simm ever achieved?

answer: He reached the Final of the PDPA Qualifier in Wigan.

question: Which tournament did Simm win to earn his placement for the 2017 World Championship?

answer: He didn't necessarily win; the article only mentions him reaching the Finals of the PDPA Qualifier in Wigan.

question: How well did Simm do in the World Championship?

answer: He won 2-0 against Gilbert Ulang in the preliminary round before losing 0-3 to Ian White in the first round.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Kevin Simm (3 December 1968) is an English professional darts player. He reached the last 40 of the Winmau World Masters and qualified for the 2017 PDC World Darts Championship after reaching the Final of the PDPA Qualifier in Wigan. He won his preliminary match but lost to Ian White in the first round of the Championship.


text:
She sat at the edge of her hospital bed looking out to the misty morning rolling over the city. She watched the birds roll and play with the wind that came off of the sea; she did this every morning. It had been hard for her these past few weeks, ever intensive treatments or  experimental drugs, she was fighting but losing her stamina.
	She got up slowly cringing at the feel of the chilled floor on her bare feet. She supported herself with the iv, she found it sad that  she was so young but she needed help just to walk down the hall.
	She was on her usual morning stroll around the hospital to see if there was any new excitement this morning. She noticed her favorite nurse and gave her a wave but she looked right past her with very sad look on her face. This wasn’t uncommon some mornings, they were always busy.
She walked to one of her favorite hallways, it was her favorite because of the pattern on the carpet in this section of the hospital. Also it was one of the most used hallways in the hospital and from here she could sit in one of the big couches and watch people as they came or left. She loved watching people leave, walking out into the morning daylight, she was envious.
	It was then that she noticed the kind looking elderly man sitting contently alone on one of the couches, it looked as though he was pondering something with a happy gaze on his face. She didn’t know what it was but there was something about this kindly looking old man that seemed so familiar to her, and so she decided to make a friend this morning.
	She loved talking to new people and hearing their stories of why they were there, Sometimes she comforted, sometimes she waited with people expecting new family members. Those were her favorite, seeing the joy on the family's faces when they got to see a new baby; she hadn’t felt that kind of joy ever.
	As she approached the old man he broke his stare into the distance and greeted her with a kind warm smile.
	“What’s your name my dear?” he asked with  a slightly trembling deep voice as she sat down next to him.
	“Katherine, but my friends just call me Kathy. You can call me Kathy.” she said so sure of herself, though she appeared so weak.
	“Ahhh Katherine, what a beautiful name. You know I had a daughter named Katherine, she was so beautiful.” he replied giving the young girl a slight wink.
	She giggled at this, “So what brings you here today mister?”
	“Ahh, just visiting someone. I was waiting for them to come get me, you see I can’t walk that well anymore.” He said with a slight grin showing in his eyes.
	“Well...” Katherine coughed slightly “Well, I can’t walk that well either so that makes both of us!” She smiled at the old man.
	“What is your favorite animal Kathy?” The old man asked softly.
	“Well any type of bird really.” She responded with happiness in her weak voice.
	“Have I got a story for you.” Said the old man.
	He told her all about birds and it was the most amazing story she had ever heard. He told about his time as a pilot, flying so fast and gracefully with the birds, rolling and playing on the currents of winds. She was entranced. He told her about his time paragliding, “Sometimes it was as if I had wings, just like the birds.” he told her.
	They talked for hours it seemed but no one came to meet the old man.
	“Well I’ve taken up enough of you time mister I really should get back to my bed.” Kathy started to get up.
	“Do you have time for just one more story Kathy?” The old man asked.
	“Well I guess just one more.” She sat back again getting comfortable.
	“Well this one is about a strong young girl. She was so beautiful, but she had such a horrible illness.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice. “She fought for so long, but her body became so tired.”
	Kathy saw a tear rolling down the old man’s face. She looked away and noticed her parents rushing into the hospital through the big glass doors, tears in their eyes. She got up as fast as she could calling to them, but they just kept on walking to the elevators and got in.
	She turned around to the old man confused “What’s going on mister?” she asked.
	“They can’t hear you sweetie, that’s why I’m here” he replied.
Goosebumps raced across her body because, it was then that she knew exactly who he was, she knew he’d seemed familiar.
	“But why did you make me fight, why did you make me feel all that pain? Why would you do that to me?” She was becoming upset.
	Another tear rolled down his face. “My sweet Kathy, all the pain you felt I felt doubly, I tried to let you fight it, I really did. You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever watched over, I wanted you to win, but some fights we just can’t. Please, understand I was always with you, I was always holding you through the worst of it.” There was pain in his voice.
	She walked back to him and wiped the tears from his face, she was walking more stable now. “It’s okay, I know it’s time.”
	With this the old man slowly stood up. “I have and will always love you so very much Kathy, you are always so strong.” The wrinkles had faded from his face now as he stood up.
	“Would you like to go for a nice walk Kathy?” The man inquired.
	“Only if you’ll tell me those wonderful stories again.” She said with a smile.
	“Come, I’ll show you.” He took her hand and they walked through the big glass doors together, into the beautiful morning light.

title: The Visitor (also it's my first post, please be nice!)

question: Who is the main character of the story?

answer: Katherine

question: What was the main character fighting for?

answer: Katherine is fighting an illness.

question: What is the setting of the story?

answer: The story takes place at the hospital

question: What does Kathy lose?

answer: Kathy loses her battle against her illness.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer:
Katherine is at a hospital for several weeks undergoing intensive treatments and experimental drugs. She meets another patient at the hospital whom shares stories with her until Katherine sees her family rush in crying, not noticing her.
Katherine realizes she has lost her battle with her illness.


text:
Anna flipped the laundry basket over, dumping the newly-cleaned clothes onto her bed, before hurrying back outside to retrieve the rest off the clothesline. She had noticed that certain pieces of clothing had gone missing over the past few weeks, and wanted to make sure it didn’t happen again today. Hurridly, she grabbed the remaining garments and stuffed them into the basket, until the line hung empty.

Her friends, when told about the missing clothes, had all critisized her on her use of a clothesline in lieu of a modern drying machine. Anna had replied that she didn’t have the money to buy a dryer, and honestly didn’t want one, as the clothesline did the job just fine for free. However, the missing clothes were beginning to make her think about changing her mind.

Tossing the laundry on the bed, she busied herself with sorting and folding the various shirts, pants, and undergarments. Sure enough, something new was missing. A pair of jeans that she had just recently bought, and was quite fond of. Exasperation set in as she shoved the clothes into their drawers. Of all the things I have around here to steal, why my clothes?

Back outside, Anna carefully approached where the clothesline was. Perhaps, she figured, there might be a few footprings, or other incriminating clues, as to the culprit responsible. Unfortunately, grass grew under and all around the wash area. Her entire property, for that matter, was green.

Anna turned to walk back inside, nearly tripping over a sleeping dog. She glared.

“Tony, you really could bark every once in a while, you know, if you see anything. Those were my favorite jeans.”

The dog lifted his head, blinking slowly, then smiled with his tongue hanging out. Anna rolled her eyes, then made her way back inside the house.

Tony could hear her opening and closing drawers and cubboards, on the off-chance she had misplaced her missing garments. He put his head back in his paws, and licked his chops.

"Yeah, they were my favorite so far, too."

title: Man's Best Friend, Not Woman's.

question: Is Tony really a dog?

answer:
Tony is initially characterized by the story as a "sleeping dog". However, he exhibits two traits that are not intrinsic of dogs.

The first is that the story implies that Tony might have eaten the missing clothes. It is certain that he took them, but licking his chops might allude to him actually eating fabric.

The second, and more important, discrepancy in Tony's character is that he might be capable of speech. One can assume that the line "Yeah, they were my favorite so far, too" as following Tony's thoughts, but the writing style has only put quotations on actual words being said aloud.

On the surface, it would be easy to accept that Tony is a lazy dog that likes to hide their owner's newly washed clothes. However, other story elements can be interpreted in a way that there is something deeper to the narrative twist in the end.


text:
Muhammad Ali was initially raised as a Baptist[1] before entering Islam.[2]

Ali and Nation of Islam

Ali said that he first heard of the Nation of Islam when he was fighting in the Golden Gloves tournament in Chicago in 1959, and attended his first Nation of Islam meeting in 1961. He continued to attend meetings, although keeping his involvement hidden from the public. In 1962, Ali met Malcolm X, who soon became his spiritual and political mentor.[3]

Ali first met Malcolm X, Elijah Muhammad's chief disciple at the time in Detroit in 1962. Malcolm X is credited with playing a critical role in the evolution of Ali's religious views by steering him towards the Nation of Islam. Ali would subsequently go on to attend the rallies and lectures of Malcolm X and Elijah Muhammad.[4] By the time of the first Ali-Liston bout, Nation of Islam members, including Malcolm X, were visible in his entourage. This led to a story in _The Miami Herald_ just before the fight disclosing that Clay had joined the Nation of Islam, which nearly caused the bout to be canceled. The article quoted Cassius Clay Sr. as saying that his son had joined the Black Muslims when he was 18.[5]

After his win in the first Ali-Liston bout, Ali was publicly welcomed into the organization by Elijah Muhammad, and named “Cassius X”, which was his “waiting name”, and eventually “Muhammad Ali.”[6][7][8]

In an interview with George Plimpton, given shortly before his rematch with Liston,[9] Ali expounded on the ontological teachings of Elijah Muhammad and Elijah's instructor Wallace Fard Muhammad. According to these teachings, which Ali said he believed in, there exists a space platform operated by “men who never smile” which orbits the earth at the speed of 18,000 miles per hour. The platform contains bombs which would be dropped at Armageddon which would begin after a threshold in the earth's collective guilt had been breached. Ali claimed he had seen the platform on several occasions. A member of Ali's entourage, Cody Jones, who was also present during this interview, corroborated what Ali said and claimed he had seen the platform together with Ali at five A.M. one morning when the two were out jogging. Jones described the platform as “a bright light darting in the sky.” According to Plimpton the “bright light darting in the sky”, seen by Ali and Jones, was probably either Venus or Jupiter.[10]

On being probed further by Plimpton, Ali explained that according to this belief system the first inhabitants of the earth were blacks. Among them was an “evil genius”, Yakub, the “devil” of this religion. After six hundred years of working in a laboratory, Yakub created the white race. Yakub was eventually ejected from paradise, together with 59,999 of his inventions, who went on to eventually subjugate the blacks.[11]

In interviews for his 1991 biography Muhammad Ali: His Life and Times, and his 1998 biography King of the World, Ali clarified that he no longer believed in the existence of the space platform or in Yakub anymore.[12][13] According to Ali, “hearts and souls have no color”, and it was wrong of Elijah Muhammad to have talked of “white devils”.[14] Ali's biographer David Remnick noted that everything “threatening or obscure” about the Nation of Islam's teachings, including the space platform, Yakub, and racial separatism, had long been forgotten by Ali.[15]

Ali and Sunni Islam

After Elijah Muhammad's death, in 1975, his son Wallace D. Muhammad (later Warith Deen Mohammed) assumed leadership of the organization, following which the fundamental doctrines of the Nation of Islam underwent a change to bring them closer to Sunni Islam. The divinity of Elijah, and that of the Nation of Islam's founder Wallace Fard Muhammad, was denied by Wallace D., and a nonracial view of religion was promulgated in which white people were no longer considered “devils”.[16][17] Eventually, a schism emerged amongst the followers of Elijah, between a faction loyal to Wallace, and another loyal to Louis Farrakhan. Farrakhan continued advocating the “racial separatism” of Elijah Muhammad, and reportedly considered Wallace “a soft minded heretic.”[18][19]

Ali decided to follow the teachings of Wallace Muhammad.[20] In an interview for his 1991 biography _Muhammad Ali: His Life and Times_, Ali commented:

Ali and Sufism

In his 2004 autobiography, _The Soul of a Butterfly_, Ali revealed that he had developed an interest in Sufism.[21] Around 2005, Ali adopted Sufi Islam, and announced that out of all Islamic spiritual schools of thought, he felt most strongly inclined towards Sufism.[22][23][24][25][26][27]

According to Ali's daughter, Hana Yasmeen Ali, who co-authored _The Soul of a Butterfly_ with him, Ali was attracted to Sufism after reading the books of Inayat Khan which contain Sufi teachings.[28][29] According to Ali's biographer and friend Davis Miller:

Ali later moved away from Inayat Khan's teachings of Universal Sufism, towards traditional Sunni-Sufi Islam. Muhammad Ali received guidance from Sunni-Sufi Islamic scholars such as Grand Mufti of Syria Almarhum Asy-Syaikh Ahmed Kuftaro, Shaykh Hisham Kabbani, Imam Zaid Shakir, Shaykh Hamza Yusuf, and Dr. Timothy J. Gianotti, who was at Ali's bedside during his last days and ensured that his funeral was in accordance with Islamic rites and rituals.[30][31]

Ali's religious views and boxing

From a boxing perspective, it is speculated that Malcolm X may have contributed to enhancing the probability of Ali winning his first bout with Liston, by instilling into Ali the belief that he was invincible, and that it was destined that he would win.[32] At the weigh-in before the first Ali-Liston fight, Ali had shouted: “It is prophesied that I should win! I cannot be beaten!”[33] According to Dennis and Atyeo:

Notes

[1]

[2] https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2016/jun/04/muhammad-ali-key-chapters

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

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title: Religious views of Muhammad Ali

question: What religion was Muhammad Ali initially raised as?

answer: Baptist.

question: What was the name of Muhammad Ali's teacher?

answer: Elijah Muhammad.

question: What sect in Islam did Muhammad Ali ultimately gravitate toward?

answer: Sunni Sufi Islam.

question: How is it speculated Malcolm X helped Ali win a match in Lisbon?

answer: By convincing him he was invincible.`

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: This article is about the religious views of Muhammad Ali. It describes how he was exposed to Islam, and the idiosyncrasies of his Islam. It then discusses his subsequent spiritual development into Sufism.


text:
COON may refer to:

Fauna

Butterflies

-   Coon, common name of the butterfly _Astictopterus jama_
-   Coon, species group of the butterfly genus _Atrophaneura_, now genus _Losaria_
-   Coon, common name of the butterfly _Psolos fuligo_

Mammals

-   Coon, an alternative name for Maine Coon, a breed of domestic cat
-   Coon, a diminutive of raccoon

People

-   Coon (surname)
-   Coön (, ), a Trojan warrior who during the Trojan War wounded Agamemnon

Arts, entertainment, and media

Television

-   “Coon 2: Hindsight”, a 2010 episode of American animated series _South Park_
-   “The Coon”, a 2009 episode of American animated series _South Park_

Other uses in arts, entertainment, and media

-   Coon Can or Conquian, a card game

Racially charged usage

-   Coon, a racial slur, used pejoratively to refer to a dark-skinned person of African, Australian Aboriginal, or Pacific island heritage, in usage mainly from the late 19th century until the 1970s
-   Coon Carnival, the original name for the Kaapse Klopse, a yearly minstrel festival in Cape Town, South Africa
-   Coon Chicken Inn, a former American restaurant chain whose trademarks and entrances were designed to look like a smiling blackface caricature of an African-American porter
-   Coon hunting, a racist expression referring to seeking to recapture escaped slaves or searching for African-Americans to victimise or assault
-   Coon song, a genre of music that presented a stereotyped image of black people
-   Coonass or Coon-ass, an epithet used in reference to a person of Cajun ethnicity

Other uses

-   Coon cheese, a cheddar cheese produced by the National Foods company in Australia, trademarked COON
-   Coon hunting, a shortened form of the sport of raccoon hunting

title: Coon

question: The use of the word 'Coon' as a slur seems to exists primarily where?

answer: It existed mainly in the United States and Australia.


text:
Each stone in the wall had more age and life than I could comprehend, my fingers play upon the cracks careful not to break the aged lines. My hands find themselves searching every message these rocks have to give, nails run ragged clicking in rhythm to the music preserved to each crack like notes to a score. My wrists hurt from the shackles bound to them, their embrace neither tight nor loose. The mere presence enough to remove any will to break the binds, or even to perpetuate an imagination capable of the thought to escape.

The air so thick from a rippled blanket of decay, my nose burnt by the remains of those I once considered brothers. No family behind these walls, no blood between those too depraved to shed it. To say that a life without these walls isn’t but a distant memory is a mockery of what I’ve suffered here. Every second of my life prior to its cage blazes past my eyes in patterns so intense that I’ve lost the sight for anything else. My memories of the world as I now know it are by no means a life to live, regardless of how long my stay is to be, I was dead long before my last breath.

My mind still in its endless waltz at instances takes certain pauses, eyes of miasmic storms just large enough to allow awareness. During these oppressive voids, I torment myself with the beckoning of questions. As my body turns to dust, I always have the same inquiry, forever wondering why had this not happened sooner? Had my life been ended early, the temptation of a return would be weaker, the husk left behind stronger enough to face its abysmal existence. While I would never call to the death of an innocent child, regardless of what bleak, treacherous future lay ahead, the punishment would fall too great on those still attached to the child. Any preemptive actions would be regarded heinous by even the most apathetic.

The question while never passed by my own lips, was still on the mind of many, was why the set task of imprisonment, when the sin committed called for a permanent solution. Why hands drenched through with more crimson water than all the great seas could wash away, was left to stain the land they still fell upon. As if regret was enough of a solution, to merely whisk me away into solitude, the naive dream that death by time is any more innocent than ending by their hands. They speak of a death as merely a transition, those seen favorable go above, and are left to judge those in waiting. While those of unsavory natures go below to rot in endless turmoil for their transgressions, is that why they leave me above to rot, or is it they themselves know nothing is left beyond death. A makeshift netherrealm to stand in place of what lies they tell themselves, or maybe they feel the same sinister urges under their flesh. They want to inflict pain, but would never wish to bear the burden of guilt. Letting me turn into the catalyst of sin, a whipping boy to all that lay sight upon me.

title: A stone cell (W.I.P.)

question: How can you describe the main character's frame of mind?

answer: The main character's frame of mind is quite fragile, they feel very much prisoned by their life and feel as though they should have decimated a long time ago.

question: What does the main character view as the permanent solution to their imprisonment?

answer: The main character views death as the permanent solution to their imprisonment.

question: How does the main character view death?

answer: While the main character doesn't explicitly state their thoughts on death, the main character voices that death is merely a transition.


text:
PRINCE VASILI ALEXANDROVICH OF RUSSIA (7 July [O.S. 24 June] 1907 – 24 June 1989) was the sixth son and youngest child of Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich of Russia and Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna of Russia. He was a nephew of Tsar Nicholas II of Russia.

Born in Imperial Russia during the reign of his paternal second cousin and maternal uncle Nicholas II, he was on vacation in Crimea at the fall of the Russian monarchy. He was joined there by his immediate family. They escaped the fate of many of his relatives killed by the Bolsheviks. He left Russia in April 1919, at age 11. In the late 1920s, he emigrated to the United States where he met Princess Natalia Golitsyna. They married in 1931. The couple had one daughter and lived for decades in Woodside, California.

Early life

Prince Vasili Alexandrovich Romanov was born at Gatchina Palace on 7 July 1907, the sixth son and last of the seven children of Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich and Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna of Russia.[1] Although a grandson of Emperor Alexander III through his mother, he was not entitled to the title Grand Duke of Russia because he was only a great-grandson of Emperor Nicholas I in the male line through his father.[2] He was a sickly child and after his birth there was some doubts that he would survive so he was baptized in the nursery.[3] Shortly after his birth his parents started to live separate lives.[4] Prince Vasili spent his early years in Imperial Russia during the reign of his maternal uncle Tsar Nicholas II. At the fall of Russian monarchy in February 1917 Vasili, aged ten, was on vacation in Ai-Todor, his father's estate in Crimea.[5] By the end of March both of his parents, all his siblings and their grandmother Empress Maria Feodorovna were also in Crimea.[6]

After the Russian Revolution, when the Bolsheviks seized power in October 1917, Prince Vasili along with his parents, siblings and grandmother the Dowager Empress were placed under house arrest at Ai-Todor.[7] On 11 March 1918 they were transferred with other Romanovs relatives to Dulber, the estate of Grand Duke Peter Nikolaevich in Crimea.[8] He escaped the fate of a number of his Romanov relatives imprisoned who were murdered by the Bolsheviks when he was freed with the Romanovs in his group by German troops in May 1918.[9] He escaped from Russia on 11 April 1919 with the help of his great aunt Queen Alexandra of the United Kingdom (née Princess Alexandra of Denmark), Dowager Empress Maria's sister. King George V of the United Kingdom sent the British warship HMS Marlborough which brought Vasili's family and other Romanovs from the Crimea over the Black Sea to Malta and then to England.[10] Prince Vasili, who was eleven years old at the time, spent the rest of his life in exile.

Exile

During his first years in exile, Prince Vasili lived in England with his mother. In the late 1920s, he emigrated to the United States where he spent the rest of his life. Vasili earned a living by finding work as a cabin boy, shipyard worker, stockbroker, winemaker and a chicken farmer in northern California.[11]

Prince Vasili married in New York City on 31 July 1931, Princess Natalia Golitsyna (Moscow 26 October 1907 – Woodside 28 March 1989), a fellow Russian exile – they met in the United States. Natalia was a distant cousin of Prince Rostislav's wife.[12] Her sister, Princess Olga Golitsyna, married Geoffrey Tooth, who would become the second husband of Vasili's niece, Princess Xenia Andreevna.[13] Princess Natalia came from one of Russia's most aristocratic families, the noble Golitsyns. Her father, Prince Alexander Golitsyn, the son of the governor of Moscow, was a country doctor. Her mother belonged to the Lyubov family. Princess Natalia escaped revolutionary Russia with her family in 1920 through Siberia to China. In 1927, they moved to the United States. For a time, she pursued a career as an actress playing small parts in the theater and in silent films. Prince Vasili met Princess Natalia Golitsyna in 1931, marrying her a few months later. The couple moved to Northern California in 1934. They lived for the rest of their lives in a house, 30 km. south of San Francisco. Prince Vasili and his wife had one daughter:

-   Princess Marina Romanov (born in San Francisco 22 May 1940); married in Woodside, California on 8 January 1967 (divorced) William Beadleston (born in Long Branch, New Jersey 31 July 1938) an art dealer. They had four children: Tatiana (b. 1968) Alexandra (b. 1970) Nicholas (b. 1971) Natalie (b. 1976). Princess Marina Romanov is now married to Daniel Stanberry and lives in Aspen, Colorado. They have one daughter.[14]

In 1980, Prince Vasili was appointed president of the Romanov Family Association in succession to his brother Prince Dmitry Alexandrovich. He remained president until his death in Woodside, California aged 81.[15] He was buried at the Serbian Cemetery in San Francisco.

Titles, styles, honours, and arms

Titles and styles

-   7 July 1907 – 23 June 1989: _His Highness_ Prince Vasili Alexandrovich of Russia

_N.B. After the Russian revolution members of the Imperial family tended to drop the territorial designation “of Russia” and use the princely title with the surname Romanov.[16]_

Arms

It is often alleged that Vasili's marriage with Princess Golitsyna would have been morganatic. However, Romanov biographer Pieter Broek holds that it was as acceptable dynastically as the Bagrationi marriage of Vasili's cousin, Grand Duke Vladimir Kirillovich of Russia. Since the extinction of the Korecki family in the 17th century, the Golitsyns have claimed dynastic seniority in the House of Gediminas. The Gediminids were a dynasty of monarchs of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania that reigned from the 14th to the 16th century and Emperor Peter I had permitted the Golitsyns to incorporate the emblem of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania into their coat of arms.[17]

Ancestry

[1] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 67

[2] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 48

[3]

[4] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 68

[5] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 98

[6] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 105

[7] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 123

[8] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 126

[9] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 129

[10] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 146

[11] Willis, _The Romanovs in the 21st Century_, p. 109

[12] Van der Kiste & Hall, _Once a Grand Duchess_, p. 190

[13]

[14] Willis, _The Romanovs in the 21st Century_, p. 110

[15]

[16]

[17]

title: Prince Vasili Alexandrovich of Russia

question: Under what circumstances did Prince Vasili and his family escape Russia?

answer: Prince Vasili was ten years old when he and his family were vacationing in his father's estate in Ai-Tudor, Crimea. However, after the Russian revolution, the Bolsheviks seized power and began to run an authoritarian government in Russia. Under the Bolsheviks administration, they placed Prince Vasili and his family members under house arrest in Ai-Tudor. Some of Vasili's Romanov relatives were captured, imprisoned, and murdered, but he escaped this fate after being freed by German troops. When he was eleven years old, he fled Russia with his family through the help of his great aunt Queen Alexandra who sent a British warship to rescue his family from Russia and bring them over to England.


text:
I am getting married next year and I had this nightmare I wrote down.  It made me cry in a way I rarely experience.  I apologize for its inevitable typos and poor quality.  I just had to share.

Jaclyn,
We were together for 8 magical years.  Three blessed years of marriage.  Every moment was amazing.  It had its ups and downs but no one in the world could doubt our love.    Nothing in the world matter besides you, then came that day.  August 12th  the day the world turned upside down.   A rainy day, warm and gentle on my face as I wheeled you in the hospital, the doctor took you from me and told me to wait in the lobby.  Four hours of pacing, four hours of never knowing what was coming next, no notice of progress or status.  Then the nurse came out and said, “Mr. MacRory, please come with me.”  I was brought to a hallway and shown a little girl in a pink cap and socks.  My daughter, Melody, smiling back at me, I had never felt such joy.  Then it all came crashing back.  I was told there were complications with the birth and that my wife, my wife who was my rock, had not survived the violent birth.  I was given a few minutes to say my good byes.  How could I express my loss or say what I wanted to.  How could I possibly say good bye to the woman who made very day brighter.  I cried and said how much I loved you, or how I could never go on living without you.  Two or three minutes I was given with her before I had to be removed from the room.   Two minutes and that was the last time I ever saw that soft delicate face.  I asked the nurse if you had seen your daughter before you left us.  She said you had and that your face beamed with pleasure at seeing your little girl cry, before your heart gave out.  I had to place you in the ground the same week that I had to care for our new and lovely daughter.   It was the ultimate perversion.  The joy in seeing my daughter, every moment with her is special, yet every time I saw her smile or see her eyes light up, I saw you, my wife who was not here to enjoy these moments.  I went to your grave every night for 3 months and stared at that piece of rock that was all I had left of you.  I struggled to keep a grip on my life for a bit, but I pulled through knowing you would have had I left you.  After all, I had a wonderful new daughter, who would need to grow up knowing what a magnificent woman her mother was.  Being a single dad was no picnic but I pulled through knowing there were others that counted on me.    I also knew what I saw your face again that you, always joking, would have something witty to say had I failed.   I wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of being able to say you would have done better.  I was going to raise Melody to be as amazing and special as you were.  I had a picture of you by my bed and I would look at it every night and softly cry in bed missing you lying next to me.  I know you would always have something comforting to say to me.  I would grade my student’s papers and come across something amusing and I would stand up to go show you and forget that the house was quiet and that I had no one to show this to.  I started to get better day by day, time heals all wounds as they say.  It never takes away the scars.  I took Melody to figure skating classes knowing that you would have loved to see her doing her jumps and winning those trophies.  Not only did she have your smile and eyes, she had your brain thank god.  She succeeded in almost everything she tried.  I raised her with not only my ideals but I would always considered what you would say when an issue aroused.  I would always tell her stories about you and what an amazing person you were.  It is something I can never forget.  I miss you still after all these years, always stopping to look at a cat or a hummingbird knowing how much you would have smiled at those sights.  Melody got into high school with incredible grades, not only finding success at figure skating but also taking up my skills at bowling.  She won 3 gold medals in figure skating and made the varsity bowling team.  I even, against my better judgment, gave her my blessing when she started dating her dancing partner Kurt, knowing you would have.   She went to college and earned her doctorate in Pharmacology, something I know would have filled you with endless joy.  She got a job testing new medication for cancers.  Soon after she married her high school sweetheart like I did.  Our granddaughter was born July 16th, your birthday.  Melody named her after you.  I held baby Jaclyn in my arms and my eyes filled with tears instantly, joy at having a beautiful healthy granddaughter, and immense sadness knowing you weren’t there to share this moment with me.

I lost you 33 years ago.  I never once took off my wedding band.  I lay here in my hospital bed knowing I will finally get to see you soon.  Melody is working around the clock trying to find something to slow the cancer eating at my body, but I know nothing can help.  I feel dread knowing how she will feel losing her father, or knowing I will never get to attend my granddaughter’s graduation.  I told her not to worry, but she has your stubbornness built deep inside her.  I looked at that picture of you every night before I went to bed and talked to you, told you about my day and what was troubling me, knowing you would have known the right thing to say every time.  I wish I had that picture with me now.  Looking at your beautiful face would always ease my fears.   Childish as it seems, I fear the end.  I always feared the unknown.  Tomorrow though I will be back in your arms a place that seems so far off and yet so familiar it seems like I last kissed you a few minutes ago.  I have, since our first moment together, loved you.  After losing you all those years ago, that love never ceased, and I will continue loving you into whatever awaits me.  "After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure"  I will see you soon my love, we have so much to catch up on..

Your loving and dedicated husband,

Eddie

title: A wrote this after a dream, it truly made me cry.

question: Did this story really happen?

answer: No, the story is just a work of fiction. It's from a nightmare the author had which he wrote down.

question: How did Jaclyn die?

answer: She died of complications from childbirth.

question: What are the moods and emotions prevalent in the story?

answer: Joy, happiness, fear, anger, confusion, loss, acceptance, longing, sadness, calm, peace

question: How long were Eddie and Jaclyn together before she died?

answer: 11 years

question: Give three reasons how Eddie has shown his loyalty and dedication to Jaclyn.

answer: 1) Eddie tried his best to raise Melody alone and never remarried. 2) Eddie always kept Jaclyn's photo by the bed and would talk to her, telling her about his day. 3) Eddie never took off his wedding band, not even once.


text:
My head was collapsed into my hands. The detective rapped his fingers slowly on the desk, his eyes bored into my hair asking the same question he, and others had been repeating for days. "Why did you kill her?".

I was unable to meet his gaze as I explained what had happened with us. He didn't believe me. How could he? Can you explain God to a faithless man? Can you describe rainbows to the blind or song to the deaf? My case was hopeless.
He was not a detective in the sense of Sherlock Holmes, he had already made up his mind and was now just gathering confidence in my conviction. There was no curious case of the lack of barking dog, just DNA, fingerprints and logic.
I couldn't blame him for his doubt, I was nervous and the last week had taken its toll on my body. Unable to sleep or eat, my previously taut skin now hung lazily on my features. My dull eyes looked back at me in the mirror without a flash of recognition, I was a stranger to myself. I looked and felt a wreck, he could see it as well.

I have always had trouble under pressure. Everyone seemed different and more at ease in the the day to day runnings of the world. Children lacked concern, adults lacked doubt and I sat somewhere between, removed from both. My parents realized something was amiss from an early age and attempted to correct my social fallacies by intentionally placing me in situations where I would need to find my own way. My mother in particular thrived on correcting me whenever possible and I began to abhor contact with her. Comfort came in the exciting but textually safe world of books. From a young age I learnt to live vicariously through the life of others, whether stealing chickens with Mr. Fox or logical conundrums with Alice in wonderland, books represented a fantasic reprieve from the unpredictable social experiment. My mother eventually gave up and focused on the other children, leaving me mostly to my own.

While I enjoyed this social removal, as a consequence it allowed my phycosis to grow and at seven years old was placed in a special school and loosely defined as autistic. The work was easy and the children strange so I mostly had time to myself while the teachers frantaticly took care of the others. I withdrew from the class and in some aspects the whole of society. My mother was growing increasingly despondant at my condition but busy with three other children, there was very little she could do.

It was in one these periods of social removal that I first heard Nameless speak. It happened one day at school when the teacher was berating me over a lack of interest in her group lesson. I was positioned by her in the back of the room, until I was ready to learn. This was usually of no concern to me, however I felt incensed today as she had singled me out. I absentmindedly picked up a lego block and was pleasantly examining the design when a voice in my head suggested I throw it. The voice was very loud and had a curious high pitched, yet older tone. The voice continued daring me to throw it at the teacher, mocking my complacency. At this stage in life I often followed any orders with little contest so I threw the block at the teacher, striking her just below the eye. A slight trickle of blood appeared and she stormed towards me with furious intention. The mocking voice went silent.

My mind has gone blank on the incident but I returned home with a sore cheek and a painful scratch on my arm. I was told that particular teacher had to be removed because she didn't understand why I was special. Later in the evening both parents came into my room and regarded me with alien stares. When questioned on why I had thrown the toy I stayed silent until my parents left me alone. My mother returned an hour later with a hug and a toy. The toy was handmade, a male, with crude stitching down the sides where tuffs of cotton poked out of the gaps and sporting lopsided grin. Its two eyes were small black buttons, which left me feeling uneasy when I looked at them. She explained to me this toy was to be used when I was feeling frustrated and that I could throw or bend it, but never take my frustration out on someone innocent.

I was still concerned by the toy but didn't want to upset mother so it quickly became inseperable from me by nessesity. This abated some of her worry as she felt we now shared a connection from this. It was later revealed that she had made him especially for me. Given to me in response to a brief rebellion I felt this toy represented my bad qualities. He was quiet like me but his eyes were mean and distant. His grin reminded me of a boy in my class with palsy. It began normal on one side then twisted down, giving him the impression of perpetual sardonic laughter. He had been given to me as a result of being bad and I was reluctant to name him after any of the characters I enjoyed in books. He remained nameless for so long he eventually adopted the name Nameless. I rationalised Nameless had made me throw the lego, and that the mocking voice was his. As much as I blamed him and felt strange having him close to me, the companionship was needed and I began to talk more to him than anyone.
It was several months before he talked again. It started off with strange movements, I would leave him somewhere and would almost always find him in a slightly different position.
It was around then Nameless began to respond to me in short jarring words. He would only speak to me and often say something topical and then fall silent for long periods of time. His words were jarring and offensive but often say what I felt but couldn't express. I was barely talking around the age of ten but nameless allowed me to express myself at small injustices that came my way.

title: 'Nameless'

question: What condition does the narrator suffer from?

answer: It seems they might suffer from schizophrenia.

question: What does the narrator mean by "a detective in the sense of Sherlock Holmes"?

answer: He means a detective who uses logic and deduction to solve a case.

question: Why did the narrator kill the girl?

answer: Although it is not explicitly stated, it can be inferred that Nameless might have told the narrator to kill the girl.

question: Would the narrator have turned out any differently if he hadn't been given the Nameless doll?

answer: No--it is stated that Nameless spoke to him even before he was given the doll.


text:
'Why??''
This was the thought that engulfed his mind as he sat alone in the red room. Red with blood. His blood. Scared, defeated, broken. He looked down at his wrists, glowing crimson with the very thing that kept him alive. Watching his life, slowly draining from him.

 Where had It all gone wrong? He had no answer, and he knew that he never would. He hated to think a lot about it. Nevertheless, the thought persisted, tormenting him day after day. What happened? Why did it happen? Why couldn't things be different? Why? Why? Why?? There were ways he could cope in the past, but it had finally become too much for him. There was but one option left to him now. The world hated him, and he had succumbed to its never ending tortures. As the life - quite literally - drained from him, he began to think. One last time, he began to think...

 For years, Matthew had felt nothing, convinced that he was terrible, that there was something wrong with him. He'd given up, content to embrace eternal darkness. But just before he could go away forever, The Light came. The Light saved his life, gave him hope. The Light understood him, perhaps even loved him once. For the first time in his life, Matthew was truly happy. The Light made him happy, and he made it happy. They were truly the best times of Matthew's (soon to be short) life. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, The Light vanished into the darkness, the very same darkness he was already so familiar with. The cold hands of emptiness had grasped him again, pulling him back into depression. Once again, Matthew was nothing. Nothing but an uncaring, insensitive monster. Left with nothing but his thoughts, his questions of ''Why?''.

 Slowly, Matthew's gaze drifted across his room to the twin barrels of high-velocity death that lay before him, propped up against the wall. They beckoned to him, begging to end his suffering forever. With a look of sad acceptance, he grabbed the deathstick and half - walked, half - stumbled outside. As the walls of his life caved in around him, as the fires of emotion raged around him and engulfed him, he stopped still. Looking to the sky one last time, he shoved the barrels, both grinning with anticipation at their long awaited task, to his mouth. In his last moments of being, he closed his eyes, cried, and thought of The Light...

title: Matthew's Plight (The Light)

question: What is Matthew's plight?

answer: Matthew suffers from depression.

question: Where did the blood come from?

answer: Matthew's own wrists, which he slit.

question: What are the twin barrels of high-velocity death?

answer: The barrels of a shotgun.

question: What is the Light?

answer: The Light is something that came into Matthew's life and gave him the will to live. It seems to be a former romantic partner of his, although this is not explicitly stated.

question: What does Matthew do at the end of the story?

answer: Matthew thinks of The Light as he prepares to shoot himself with the shotgun.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Matthew sits in a room drenched in his own blood, having slit his wrists. He can no longer handle the depression and plans to commit suicide by shooting himself. He thinks of The Light, who briefly entered his life and gave him reason to live, maybe even loved him, but then eventually left. He thinks of The Light as he prepares to pull the trigger.


text:
"Clear left!" I ran to the next corner to the sounds of the rest of my squad following. I flipped the barrel of my omni-rifle around the corner gauging what was to be seen from the small camera mounted on the barrel.

"I don't like that house entrance there." My commanders voice rang through my head as if he were standing next to me. "Davis, grab a spare cell and scout it out."

I looked back to him and nodded my affirmative and grabbed one of our last power cells from the field medic and cloaked. Sprinting forward to the entrance in question the only thing to be seen of my progress was the footprints that I left in the war-scarred earth. What was left of a city road lie in troughs the shape of squads of tank tracks around my sprinting form. By the time I had approached the old English style home my core supplement system had started to pump extra oxygen into my blood stream keeping my breathing steady and nearly silent despite a half mile sprint.

Approaching the corner of the whitewashed two story I fell into the natural cover its hedges offered me and turned off my cloaking system. Engineer by study I was drafted into the military at the age of 22 and had been fighting this damned war for another 2 years. Before the atrocity that had begun this I was studying cybernetics. I was working with a top firm when they came and tore our world asunder. Recognizing the human ability to adapt they targeted the brightest minds with subterfuge before the main invasion force arrived and were able to wipe out all the leading weapon and enhancement engineers with a derisive attack.

"Movement!" The shout broke through my train of thought and pushed me into instant action and straight into what had become routine. Cloak - vision - sight. I mentally enabled my cloaking and vision enhancement and pulled my rifle to shoulder to find a target. I noticed that my cell indicator was showing 75% depletion already and made a mental note to keep my fire to a minimum. There! The warmth of a biological body shone from the background noise of the rubble across the street - and another and another. There was a whole group of bios just around the corner commander Erwin had his funny feeling about.

It was more funny how often his feelings were correct and how much our little troop had come to trust them. Most of us were pretty sure he was a latent physic but he was unwilling to get tested saying something along the lines of, "Cocked up bullshit. Ain't nothin but a feeling."

I transmitted what I saw back to the troop with an encrypted radio link and Erwin rather eloquently told me to 'get my skinny white mech ass back here.' Such a way with words. It's a wonder that he's single, but I followed his orders. His orders have saved my skinny mech ass more than once so I got the hell away from twenty plus, by the looks of it, heavily armed enemy bios. Even though they were well armed they didn't have any psychs with them. Those were the ones to watch out for. Even with a fully powered cloak you can't hide your thoughts and the synapse activity it takes to create them.

Looking back over my shoulder at the corner the enemy was around I wondered to myself, not for the first time, why. Why would creatures who look so similar to us and behaviorism so similar to our own be out for us? How could we have made a race, not of our solar system, angry when we had only began mining other planets and barely begun research on faster than light systems? What had we done for them to create a virus that targets half the human population?

To be continued? Written with no proof-reading but I think I would like to see this one out if there is some interest. I have an interesting story in mind with my own take on humanities beginnings - and its fall.

Edited for format

title: [Sci-Fi] Rebirth of a Race

question: Who is the narrator?

answer: The narrator is 24 year old Davis.

question: Who is the enemy?

answer: The enemy is a humanlike race from a different solar system that is trying to take humans out.

question: What is the atrocity that is referenced?

answer: It is not specified, but it is has something to do with the alien race killing many people.

question: Where does this take place?

answer: This takes place in what is left of a city road.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Davis and his team are scouting an old city road for signs of any of the aliens. Someone spots movement and the team cloaks themselves and enhances their vision. The commander, Erwin, sensed this and tells them to pull back. Davis begins to wonder for the first time why this alien race was angry enough to create a virus to wipe out humans.


text:
WET ROT is a generic term used to define a variety of fungal species, such as _Coniophora puteana_ (otherwise known as cellar fungus) and _Choanephora cucurbitarum_. Some species obtain their food by breaking down the cell walls of wood, resulting in a loss of its strength. This can cause problems in the structural integrity of structures. The species _C. cucurbitarum_ affects the flowers and fruit of crops, such as amaranthus and okra.[1]

The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) states that “In addition, mold exposure can irritate the eyes, skin, nose, throat, and lungs of both mold-allergic and non-allergic people.”[2]

[1]

[2]

title: Wet rot

question: What is wet rot?

answer: a generic term used to define a variety of fungal species

question: What is the EPA?

answer: Environmental Protection Agency

question: What is a fungus?

answer: the article does not answer this quetion

question: What is the scientific name for the cellar fungus?

answer: Coniophora puteana

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Wet rot is a generic term used to define a variety of fungal species.


text:
ELMWOOD is an unincorporated community in Saline County, in the U.S. state of Missouri.[1]

History

Elmwood was platted in 1867.[2] A variant spelling was “Elm Wood”.[3] A post office called Elm Wood was established in 1851, and remained in operation until 1907.[4]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

title: Elmwood, Missouri

question: What is Elmwood?

answer: an unincorporated community in Saline County, Missouri, U.S.

question: When was Elmwood platted?

answer: 1867

question: When was the post office in Elmwood, Elm Wood, established?

answer: 1851

question: When did the post office in Elmwood, Elm Wood, close?

answer: 1907

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Elmwood is an unincorporated community in Saline County, Missouri, U.S.


text:
MARTIN (17[1]/19[2] December 1406 – August 1407[3]) was heir apparent to the throne of Sicily. He was a member of the House of Barcelona.

Life

He was the son and heir apparent of Martin I, King of Sicily. His mother was Blanche, who became Queen of Navarre in 1425. His parents got married on 26 November 1402.[4] Queen Blanche's first pregnancy had ended in miscarriage.[5] Nevertheless, the young queen's second pregnancy was successful, and he was born on 17[6] or 19[7] December 1406 in Sicily. He was baptized Martin after his father and grandfather, King Martin of Aragon, who informed the maternal grandfather, King Charles III of Navarre, of the birth.[8]

Martin's grandaunt Violant of Bar, queen dowager of Aragon, proposed an engagement to her brother-in-law, King Martin the Elder, between their grandchildren, the new-born Martin and her granddaughter, Marie of Anjou.[9] in order to see her offspring on the Aragonese throne.[10]

The little prince, however, died few months later on August 1407 in Sicily.[11] Not only the dowager queen's hopes failed but the continuity of the House of Barcelona was at risk. Few years later the royal branch of the House of Barcelona became extinct in legitimate male line.

Notes

Bibliography

-   Lo Forte Scirpo, Maria Rita: _C'era una volta una regina... : due donne per un regno: Maria d'Aragona e Bianca di Navarra_, Napoli, Liguori, 2003.
-   Fodale, Salvatore: Blanca de Navarra y el gobierno de Sicilia, _Príncipe de Viana_ _60_, 311–322, 1999. URL: See External links
-   Silleras-Fernández, Núria: Spirit and Force: Politics, Public and Private in the Reign of Maria de Luna (1396–1406), In: Theresa Earenfight (ed.): _Queenship and Political Power in Medieval and Early Modern Spain_, Ashgate, 78–90, 2005. , 9780754650744 URL: See External links
-   Miron, E. L.: _The Queens of Aragon: Their Lives and Times_, London, Stanley Paul & Co, 1913. URL: See External links
-   Tramontana, Salvatore: Il matrimonio con Martino: il progetto, i capitoli, la festa, _Príncipe de Viana_ _60_, 13–24, 1999. URL: See External links
-   Silleras-Fernández, Núria: Widowhood and Deception: Ambiguities of Queenship in Late Medieval Crown of Aragon, In: Mark Crane et al. (eds.): _Shell Games: Studies in Scams, Frauds and Deceits (1300–1650)_, CRRS Publications, Toronto, 2004, 185–207. URL: See External links

[1] See Fodale (1999: 316–317).

[2] See Tramontana (1999: 16).

[3] See Tramontana (1999: 16) and Fodale (1999: 316–317).

[4] See Fodale (1999: 315).

[5] See Tramontana (1999: 16)

[6] See Fodale (1999: 316–317).

[7] See Tramontana (1999: 16)

[8] See Fodale (1999: 316–317).

[9] In 1422 she married King Charles VII of France.

[10] See Silleras-Fernández (2004: 195).

[11] See Tramontana (1999: 16) and Fodale (1999: 316–317).

title: Martin of Aragon (heir of Sicily)

question: What is the term for the kind of marriage that Martin and Marie were intended to have?

answer: It is an arranged marriage.

question: What did Martin's death effectively end?

answer: Male heirs to the throne in the House of Barcelona.

question: How long did Martin spend on this earth?

answer: He was alive for eight months.

question: Which text might suggest Martin's birth was faked for the sake of an heir within the Barcelona lineage?

answer: Widowhood and Deception: Ambiguities of Queenship in Late Medieval Crown of Aragon, In: Mark Crane et al (eds.): Shell Games: Studies in Scams, Frauds and Deceits (1300-1650)


text:
SHERIFF'S AID was a medieval supplementary payment by landowners to the sheriffs and their staffs.

In July 1163, Henry II of England proposed in Woodstock, Oxfordshire that sheriff's aid should be paid not to the sheriffs, but into the royal treasury, in order to levy a sort of danegeld (which wasn't being levied as such at that time because of its unpopularity) and at the same time reduce the sheriffs' profits. Thomas Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury, opposed the expedient, arguing that sheriff's aid was a free-will offering and declaring that not a penny should be paid from his estates or church lands. The king received little support from the courtiers, and the incident enlarged the rift between king and archbishop.[1]

Citations

[1] Barlow _Thomas Becket_ pp. 88–89.

title: Sheriff's aid

question: What is Sheriff's Aid?

answer: Sheriff's Aid was a medieval supplementary payment by landowners to the sheriffs and their staffs.

question: Which king proposed Sheriff's Aid?

answer: King Henry II.

question: What was King Henry's suggestion with regard to the aid?

answer: He suggested that the aid should be paid into the royal treasury, which would reduce the sheriff's profits.

question: What was the outcome of his suggestion?

answer: The king received little support from the courtiers; the incident enlarged the rift between king and archbishop.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Sheriff's Aid was a medieval supplementary payment by landowners to the sheriffs and their staffs. King Henry II proposed that the aid money go to the royal treasury rather than to the sheriffs.


text:
The ROYAL NORWEGIAN MINISTRY OF LABOUR AND SOCIAL AFFAIRS () is a Norwegian ministry established in 1916. It is responsible for the labour market, the working environment, pensions, welfare, social security, integration, immigration, asylum, minorities and the Sami.[1] Since 24 January 2020 the department has been led by Torbjørn Røe Isaksen (Conservative Party).

Name history

-   1 September 1885–22 February 1946: Norwegian Ministry of Labour
-   20 December 1948–31 December 1989: _Norwegian Ministry of Local Government and Labour_ (see Ministry of Local Government and Regional Development)
-   1 January 1998–1 October 2004: _Norwegian Ministry of Labour and Government Administration_ (see Ministry of Government Administration, Reform and Church Affairs)
-   1 January 2006–31 December 2009: _Norwegian Ministry of Labour and Social Inclusion_
-   1 January 2010–: NORWEGIAN MINISTRY OF LABOUR

Subsidiaries

Agencies

-   International Centre for Reindeer Husbandry, or _Internasjonalt fag- og formidlingssenter for reindrift_ (official site) Research.
-   Labour Court of Norway, or _Arbeidsretten_ (official site) Court that takes under consideration disputes about validity, interpretation and existence of collective agreements, questions regarding breach of collective agreements, questions regarding breach of the peace obligation, and claims for damages resulting from such breaches.
-   Directorate of Integration and Diversity, or _Integrerings- og mangfoldhetsdirektoratet_ (official site) Authority concerning integration of foreigners.
-   National Centre for Documentation on Disability, or _Nasjonal dokumentasjonssenter for personer med nedsatt funksjonsevne_ (official site) Research.
-   National Institute of Occupational Health, or _Statens arbeidsmiljøinstitutt_ (official site) Research.
-   Norwegian Directorate for Health and Social Affairs, or _Sosial- og helsedirektoratet_ (official site) Competence centre for the management of healthcare and social affairs.
-   Norwegian Directorate of Immigration, or _Utlendingsdirektoratet_ (official site) Immigration permits and authority.
-   Norwegian Directorate of Labour and Welfare, or _Arbeids- og velferdsdirektoratet_ (official site) Manages the Norwegian Labour and Welfare Service.
-   Norwegian Immigration Appeals Board, or _Utlendingsnemda_ (official site) Appeal board for the Directorate of Immigration.
-   Norwegian Labour and Welfare Service, or _Arbeids- og velferdsetaten_ (official site) Administrating age- and diability pensions and other welfare, and manages unemployment.
-   Norwegian Labour Inspection Authority, or _Arbeidstilsynet_ (official site) Authority aimed at occupational health and safety.
-   Norwegian Pension Insurance for Seamen, or _Pensjonstrygden for sjømenn_ (official site) Administrates the seamen's pension.
-   Petroleum Safety Authority Norway, or _Petroleumstilsynet_ (official site) Insures occupational safety and health in the petroleum industry.
-   Resource Centre for the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, or _Kompetansesenter for urfolks rettigheter_ (official site) Research.
-   Resource Centre for Nature and Reindeer Husbandry Services, or _Ressurssenter for natur og reindriftstjenester_ Research.
-   Riksmeklingsmannen (official site) Negotiates wage and traffic disputues between employer and labour unions.
-   Sámediggi, or _Sametinget_ (official site) Sami parliament.

Standing Committees and Boards

-   Tariffnemnda, the Collective Bargaining Board

Limited companies

-   Rehabil (official site) Rehabilitation workplace.

[1]

title: Ministry of Labour (Norway)

question: What does the text say about the Royal Norwegian Ministry of Labour's responsibilities?

answer: The Norwegian ministry of Labor and Social Affairs was established in 1916. Its responsibilities include the labor market, working environments, pensions and welfare. It also includes responsibilities of social security, integration, immigration, asylum, minorities and the Sami. The department is led by Torbjørn Røe Isaksen of the conservative party.


text:
Let me tell you about a friend of mine...

Let's just call him “Joel.” At a very young age, Joel realized that he preferred playing with barbie dolls over playing with action figures. When puberty hit, he realized that he wasn't interested in girls the way his male peers were. Shortly thereafter, things added up and Joel realized he was gay.

Joel grew up in small town in rural Georgia, in a conservative family that attended a baptist church every Sunday. Joel knew that to be himself would mean to be ostracized, so he hid his sexuality.

Joel moved to Atlanta to attend college. He discovered that he wasn't alone in being gay. He began having one night flings with men he met at clubs and on the internet, remaining in the closet the whole time. He continued going to church throughout his college years.

One day, Joel confessed to his pastor that he was gay. His pastor told him that it was okay. He said that he could help him. He would teach him to “pray the gay away.”

Joel spent years asking God to remove his homosexuality. He prayed that God would make him straight so he could have a family and be just like his fellow church-goers. It seems that God had other plans for him.

Eventually, Joel gave up trying to change who he was. He had always believed that God loved him no matter what, and that God had made him in his own image. Why would God want him to conceal his true feelings--feeling that were given to him by God in the first place? Why would a loving God want him to be someone he wasn't? Was God just a Supreme Prankster?

Joel didn't think so, so he came out of the closet. He eventually fell in love with a man much like himself who shared his faith. The two have been together ever since and have worked together on building a fellowship of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender Christians in the greater Atlanta area.

I'm not religious, and I don't like to way in on the topic of God, but, Joel's story makes me wish I could have the faith that he has, to believe in a loving God who wants us to be just the way He created us. What does it say about some people's view of themselves and the world when they worship a Supreme Creator who doesn't want some people to be happy with the way God created them? I don't know about you, but I prefer Joel's God over those other people's God.

title: Pray the Gay Away

question: Who is happier, the Joel who tried to pray his homosexuality away, or the Joel who came out of the closet?

answer: The Joel who came out of the closet is the happier version.

question: Can praying remove homosexuality as the pastor from Joel's church said?

answer: No, praying had no effect on Joel's homosexuality no matter how hard he prayed.


text:
A wave of development may be transforming Imperial Beach.

The 27,000-person coastal city closest to the border has often been overlooked because of concerns over crime and pollution. It was often considered not only the most affordable coastal town in San Diego, but one of the more affordable places in the county overall.

But a big hotel project opened in 2013 has brought new investment.

There are several major developments either slated to start construction soon or are awaiting final approval. The development surge is being touted for increasing the local housing supply and adding new commercial amenities for Imperial Beach residents, and for boosting local tourism, too.

“People have always overlooked Imperial Beach as being dirty,” said Jed Bratt, a real estate agent living in Imperial Beach. “In late 2013, Pier South opened and from that point on, Imperial Beach took an incredible turn. Small businesses got facelifts and began to expand. It’s just really starting to take off.”

Many of the projects were started years ago, but with the end of the state’s tax-funded redevelopment program, which helped cities rebuild rundown areas, they were put on hold indefinitely.

One such project is the Breakwater Town Center, a large commercial and retail center expected to start construction at the end of February. It will include IB’s first national grocery chain.

The developer, Sudberry Properties, first began working on the project in 2009.

“We stuck tight and it ended up being great that we waited,” said Estean Lenyoun, who is leading the project at Sudberry. “We’re excited to participate in the pivotal transformation of the city.”

The Breakwater Town Center will be the final project in a trifecta that will begin the transformation of Imperial Beach, said Lenyoun. The other two projects were Pier South, a resort hotel on the coast, and its restaurant, the Sea 180, from the Cohn Group, a prolific local restaurateur.

“Those two have very much been a catalyst and a catapult for the city to embrace another level of recognition and transition,” Lenyoun said. “And the only thing to add to those two would be a real town center.”

Other major projects in the works include Bernardo Shores, which will construct more than 180 new townhomes in the site of a former RV park, the Bikeway Village, which will redevelop two warehouses adjacent to the Bayshore Bikeway to include a bicycle repair shop, a café and maybe even a hostel to boost tourism, and a second resort hotel on the beach on the site of a rundown hotel.

There are also a few smaller housing developments in the works, including one at the site of an old mortuary. The lease of the Tin Fish, the restaurant at the end of IB’s pier, will be up in 2016 and the city is looking at what to do next with the commercial space. The city’s public library, a building that’s been around for about 50 years, is also undergoing a major renovation.

One of the most surprising things, though, is that there has been nearly no has been very little opposition at public meetings to any of the projects so far, said Tyler Foltz, a senior planner at the city’s planning department.

People living in Imperial Beach are concerned about things like parking and community character, Foltz said. They don’t want to intensify things too much and lose the laid-back character of the city. But so far community members have been participating in the process without resisting the new projects.

“The people who have lived here for a long time just view it as a treasure,” Foltz said. “But there have been changes over many years that allow the people who live here to really enjoy it more.”

Another concern, said Foltz, is keeping housing costs from rising too much with the new developments.

“We wouldn’t want to have things where people get priced out of anything, but at the same time allowing owners of properties to be able to propose projects,” he said.

Bratt conducted a survey of about 120 Imperial Beach residents to gauge their feelings on the wave of new development in the city. Seventy percent of respondents said they felt the Pier South had a positive impact on Imperial Beach. About 65 percent said they supported the other new developments in the city.

Anonymous comments in the survey expressed more varied opinions.

Some embraced the city’s changes: “My husband and I grew up in IB, graduated from Mar Vista…… and moved back about 5 years ago and we are thrilled with the change. There are no more gangs and it’s safe to walk the streets in the evening not to mention how much cleaner the city is.”

Others were more resistant: “I don’t know why people are always trying to ‘fix’ IB. We like it the way it is, or we wouldn’t continue to live here. Let us continue to be the funky little town down by the border. We’re not fancy. If you want fancy, move to Coronado!”

Ron Chapman helped set up the Imperial Beach location for the Coronado Brewing Company, which opened in fall 2014. Chapman said he’s had his sights on the city since 2008, but didn’t find the right building until five years later.

“It’s been phenomenal, well beyond our expectations,” Chapman said. “There were so few options in IB for dining, so we thought there was nothing like it down there at the time. We thought it would be worth the risk.”

And it has been, he said. Chapman said he enjoys the “bedroom community” feel of Imperial Beach, where he often sees the same customers three or four times a week. It’s different than Coronado, which has a strong military presence and a lot of tourism.

Imperial Beach is changing, though, he said. A Naval Special Warfare campus being built in the existing Silver Strand Training Complex is expected to bring many more military families to Imperial Beach, said Chapman. He also expects tourism to grow, with the recent opening of Pier South and the new resort hotel that will be built in the next few years.

“I just hope it doesn’t change too much,” said Chapman. “It’s one of the slowest beach communities in San Diego. It reminds me of Coronado in the ‘60s. I’d like for businesses here to be able to grow a little, but I don’t want IB to change too much.”

question: Where is Imperial Beach located?

answer: San Diego, California.

question: What year did the development project open?

answer: 2013

question: What will be the final project in its transformation?

answer: The Breakwater Town Center.

question: What sorts of concerns do local inhabitants have regarding the new development?

answer: Things like parking availability and community character.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: A new housing and business development on Imperial Beach in San Diego, California has been met with both enthusiasm and concern. Due for completion in 2013, some residents are concerned that parking availability will decrease, and community culture will suffer from what's sure to be an onslaught of new businesses and consumers.


text:
[A laser-guided GBU-24 (BLU-109 warhead variant) strikes its target.] GBU-24 PAVEWAY III or simply GBU-24 is a family of laser-guided bombs, a sub-group of the larger Raytheon Paveway III family of weapons. The Paveway guidance package consists of a seeker package attached to the nose of the weapon, and a wing kit attached to the rear to provide stability and greater range.

Warhead options consist of:

-   Mk. 84 – General Purpose
-   BLU-109 – Penetrator
-   BLU-116 – Advanced Unitary Penetrator
-   CPE-800 – Used in the BPG-2000, a similar, indigenous Spanish weapon

Compared to the GBU-10 family, or the Paveway II family, the GBU-24 glides farther as a result of more efficient guidance technology. The Paveway III guidance kit is more expensive, however, making the GBU-24 suitable against well-defended, high-value targets. It was introduced into service c. 1983. This weapon is in service with the USAF, US Navy, US Marine Corps, and various NATO air forces.

The bomb requires a spot of pulse-coded laser energy to home on; this can be supplied by the delivery aircraft, another aircraft (Buddy Lasing), or by a Ground Laser Designator. After release from the delivery aircraft, the thermal battery for the Guidance Computer Group fires to supply power; the arming wire for the fuze is withdrawn; the wings are released; and depending on the configuration, either the turbine generator or the safety switch (to power the fuze) is activated.

Once this has happened, the seeker guides the bomb toward the designated impact point. If the laser illumination is lost, the bomb stops guiding and follows a roughly ballistic path, although interference from the guidance kit can lead to the weapon wandering off course. While the GBU-24 is guided, it is not a powered weapon—i.e., it has no propulsion. Its range, therefore, depends on aircraft speed, altitude, wind speed, etc. The GBU-24 is precise enough to be able to fly down ventilation shafts into hardened targets, although accuracy is usually dependent on the ability to point the laser correctly rather than the bomb's ability to hit the impact point. The GBU-24 is cleared on aircraft such as the F-15E, F-16A MLU, F-16C Block 40/42, F-16C Block 50/52 CCIP, F-16C+ Block 30 SCU8, F/A-18, Panavia Tornado, Eurofighter Typhoon, Mirage 2000, Rafale, F-14 Tomcat (prior to the Tomcat's retirement from US Navy service), F-4E AUP, F-111C AUP and the Predator C UAVs.[1]

Twenty-three GBU-24s were dropped by the US Navy during the 2003 invasion of Iraq.[2]

[1] Raytheon Paveway

[2]

title: GBU-24 Paveway III

question: What is the purpose of a GBU-24 Paveway III Missile?

answer: To home in on important targeted locations in order to destroy them.

question: What was the US Navy's involvement in the invasion of Iraq in 2003?

answer: To aid in the invasion from the sea and the air.

question: Why did the US invade Iraq?

answer: It is unclear from this article, though an invasion is usually to seize power in a region.

question: WHat would happen if the missile was on a direct course for its target but lost its laser guidance?

answer: The fact that the missile follows a ballistic path means it would still fly in the correct direction and likely still hit the intended target.


text:
Home Violations & Safety Safety & Driving How To Install a Child Safety Seat
Car accidents are stressful at best, and tragic at worst. Although they are the leading cause of death for young children, using the proper car seats correctly means this doesn’t have to be the case.

According to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, child and infant car seats significantly reduce the risks of fatal injury in infants and toddlers in the event of a crash.

Keep reading to see how you can both CHOOSE AND INSTALL THE BEST CAR SEAT FOR YOUR CHILD, and take a look at our TRAFFIC SAFETY LAWS page for more information on state-specific laws.

Choosing the Right Infant Car Seat

Maybe you’re a new parent and have never had to worry about purchasing a car seat before. How do you know whether your child needs a front-facing infant car seat or a booster seat?

Don’t stress—the NHTSA lightens the load of this task by offering an INTERACTIVE TOOL to help you choose the best car seat for your child's age, weight, and height.

Read on to learn the organization’s guidelines.

-   REAR-FACING INFANT CAR SEATS:
    -   Are _usually_ for children UNDER 1 YEAR OLD, BUT IF YOUR CHILD CAN STILL FIT IN A REAR-FACING CAR SEAT UNTIL THEY ARE 1 TO 3 YEARS OLD THE NHTSA RECOMMENDS THAT YOU DO SO.
    -   Feature a harness strap system and a cradle design to protect a child's neck and spine in a crash.
-   FRONT-FACING CAR SEATS:
    -   Are typically for children 4 TO 7 YEARS OLD, OR children under 4 years old who have OUTGROWN THEIR SEAT'S HEIGHT AND WEIGHT MAXIMUM.
    -   Feature a tether strap system that is much safer than a standard seatbelt for young children.
-   BOOSTER SEATS:
    -   Are designed for children 8 TO 12 YEARS OLD, OR children under 8 years old who have OUTGROWN THEIR SEAT'S HEIGHT AND WEIGHT MAXIMUM.
    -   Are built to add extra height so the car's seat belt fits your child properly.

Car Seat Installation Tips

Don't be intimidated by the seat once you take it out of the box. While car seat installation may vary slightly from vehicle to vehicle, there are some basics that always apply.

When installing a car seat, make sure to:

-   READ THE INSTRUCTIONS. Don't try guessing—read the directions thoroughly and make sure you clearly understand how to securely install the car seat.
-   POSITION CAR SEATS IN THE BACK SEAT. This is the safest location in the car for a child to ride.
-   REFERENCE YOUR VEHICLE'S MANUAL. Some cars have lower anchors built into the seats that can be used to attach a car seat. Older cars may not have these and require the seat belt to secure the car seat. The owner's manual will help you find what you need.
-   LOCK THE SEAT BELT. If your vehicle doesn't have lower anchors, refer to your owner's manual to find out how to lock a seat belt once the seat is in place.
-   SECURE TIGHTLY. Once the car seat is in place and attached with either the seat belt or lower anchors, wiggle it side to side, back and forth. It should not move more than 1 inch in any direction.
-   ADJUST THE RECLINE ANGLE. For rear-facing seats, it is important that the base of your car seat is level to prevent your child's head from flopping forward. Most seats will have indicators on the side to help.
-   CONNECT THE TETHER STRAP. Forward-facing infant car seats have an extra strap at the top as an added safety measure. Double check your vehicle and attach and tighten the tether strap if possible to prevent head movement in the event of a crash.

Position Your Child Safely

Once you are finished installing the car seat, you still need to place your child into it properly to ensure their safety. Below are specifics for the harness system in both rear- and front-facing seats.

To properly position your child in the car seat, you will need to:

-   REMOVE BULKY CLOTHING or unnecessary layers.
-   Place your child so their backside is FLUSH AGAINST THE SEAT without arching or slouching.
-   Make sure all STRAPS SHOULD LIE FLAT against your child without twists or knots.
-   Check that straps are SNUG but not too tight.
-   Verify the CHEST CLIP sits LEVEL WITH THEIR ARMPITS.
-   See that the SHOULDER STRAPS connect to the seat AT OR DIRECTLY BELOW THEIR SHOULDERS.

Safety Seat Inspection

Even if you follow all the directions perfectly, and you've checked off all of our safety tips, it's wise to have your work inspected. There are CHILD SAFETY SEAT INSPECTION LOCATIONS across the country where an expert will make sure your child will be safe when buckled in.

If you don’t know where to go, the NHTSA offers a seat INSPECTION LOCATION FINDER for you to quickly and easily find an inspection facility near you.

More Child Seat Safety Tips

Here are a few additional tips all drivers should keep in mind when it comes to child seat safety.

-   Use a car seat EVERY TIME your child rides in a motor vehicle.
-   If you're transferring your seat to a different car, REFER TO THAT CAR'S MANUAL for specific installation directions.
-   Keep your child in a REAR-FACING SEAT AS LONG AS POSSIBLE—it's the safest traveling position.
-   SIZE, NOT AGE, SHOULD BE THE KEY FACTOR in moving your child to the next seat type.
-   The BACK SEAT is the safest place in your vehicle for a child to ride for age 12 years old and under.

question: How can you decide which child safety car seat to buy?

answer: Through the NHTSA interactive tool.

question: For what age group is the rear-facing infant car seat designer for?

answer: For children 1-3 years old.

question: For what age group is the front-facing car seat designer for?

answer: For children, 4 to 7 years or that have outgrown the infant seats.

question: For what age group is the booster car seat designer for?

answer: For children 8 to 12 or under 8 who have outgrown the front-facing car seat.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The text is about child safety seats, how to choose and install them.


text:
The KUCHING OLD COURTHOUSE is a historical courthouse in Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia.

History

After Charles Brooke was proclaimed as the Rajah of Sarawak in 1868, he was looking for a better venue for the administrative center of the government of Sarawak. The construction of the courthouse building started in 1868 and completed in 1874, which was then officiated by William Henry Rodway. In 1883, the clock tower was added to the building at the entrance area. In 1924, the memorial for Charles Brooke was constructed at the building entrance square.[1] It was used as the administrative center for the government of Sarawak until 1973.[2] In 2003, the building was converted into the Sarawak Tourism Complex.[3]

Architecture

The building consists of 4 blocks.[4] It is covered with iron wood roof.[5]

Facilities

The building is equipped with various facilities, such as restaurant etc.[6]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: Kuching Old Courthouse

question: What is the Kuching Old Courthouse?

answer: The Kuching Old Courthouse is a historical courthouse located in Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia.

question: Charles Brook, Rajah of Sarawak, in 1868 began the construction of the courthouse for an administrative center of the government.

question: What was added to the building in 1883?

answer: A clocktower

question: Until what year was the building used as the center for government for Sarawak?

answer: It was used until 1973.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The Kuching Old Courthouse is a historical courthouse located in Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia. Charles Brook, Rajah of Sarawak, in 1868 began the construction of the courthouse for an administrative center of the government.