text:
The night crept on the carousel as if light itself was on ‘paid stress leave.’ The fog lights exhausted their last sigh and sputtered to an abrupt stop. All the maintenance workers had gone home, and the gates locked up tighter than a mental institution on Mardi Gras. The winds gusted up swirls of dust and litter into mini-twisters and pummeled the walls of the Sea-House, eroding the seashells that were glued there last summer’s eve by the Sedgwick twins. Even though the stars and the moon upheld their false lie and pretended to illuminate the landscape, darkness and confusion rose from the horizon and swallowed all hope from the neighborhoods surrounding the park. The gulls, even, had been dismayed from their usual posts and sought refuge from the impending gloom. The waves and pulses of the ocean invaded the shore in a sort of perpetual attack on the land, and brought with them tidings from the sea. Although the clocks chimed six, the sun knew where its place was; hidden behind a veil of earth, cloud, trees, and the endless horizon of the land. The artificial horses and ponies of the carousel, with their glassy eyes and rounded, glazed knees, dimmed in their gloss, and fell to the night before them. The light wained away and succumbed to the starry sky. The queer dark draped over the park, and seeped into every imaginable nook and cranny. It climbed the lighthouse as if driven from its home by some unseen force, perhaps the light and dark trading spaces. Not even in the parks long history had it been so resentful, or so repressed by the dark judgment. The greasy, blackened wheels and hocks of the turn-wheel on the merry-go-round were all rusted and grimed out, yet still managed to produce an odd, familiar quality that would ring out in day or night. The paint on the twisting candy poles of the handles flaked and peeled, but still yielded a faint yet bright representation of the past. The Fun-House had some mirrors cracked and smashed, but still the music played on as if ignoring the fact that its prime had come and go a long time past.

The night had come before, no doubt about it, but this was different. This dark was penetrating, and intrusive. It dove deep into your thoughts and kept you from waking. It trickled through the cracks of everyones happiness and glee, yet caught the tangled web of the common fear of the unknown. This, truly, was not only the absence of light, but the knowledge that the light would never surface in the consciousness of this world again. The locks on the gate may keep people out, but more so, may keep change from also entering and destroying the pristine, never-changing persona of the Park on the Pier. They would click and lock, ringing a certain and yet distinct chime into the halls of time. Rusted and still strong, after years of abuse and torture brought on by years of wear and tear. Only one key, only one, could open these gates, and this key has seemed to slip away from those wanting in. Perhaps by mistake or perhaps by intent, the key just isn't there to satisfy those who want it the most. Beyond the gates, the ticket booth rots away, with its characteristic stained white and baby-blue paneling. It once stood firm and tall, loved for its colors and charm. Now it lays there, a shell of what it once was. A hollow record of the care-free times, with a physical reminder to the past, offering little in the way of mental rememberings.

The apartment complex that overlooked the acreage crumbled from the beating of time against its tough exterior, and although it stood tall and firm, it also took a familiar trait that of an empty reminder of the times that once were. The grimy, metallic walls dulled under the artificial lights, and the carpet accumulated a certain black muddy buildup, with a well-beaten flatness all around the edges and center. The stench of sweat and old cooking filled the halls, finding every wisp of fabric and corrupting it beyond repair. The elevators, every now and again, would grumble to life and serve its ever-knowing masters, only to return to the dark underworld of the basement. Their purpose: to willfully accept and blindly serve those whoever wished of their services, only to be cast off to a dark and unseen chamber, where others of its kind were held, waiting eagerly to serve the cruel masters. The hallways especially were a transform from a wonderful earlier go. The plaster on the ceilings and walls lifted at the simplest of touches, and the doors at the end of the hall, although never touched, still gathered the mold and filth abundant in this post-Victory Mansion era dwelling. The doorknobs, with their own locks, were the only shining pieces in this terrace, but even then, dust and sweat deteriorated the state of the knobs to near replacement. The lights flickered an orange halo reminiscent to that of a deranged traffic light. The peepholes on the doors themselves were grimy and had built up the blackened carbon around the splotty edges. Through the peephole, down at the end of the third hallway, room 324 sleeps. It sleeps because there is no one to wake it. Room 324 has no furniture and no tenants. It is simply waiting for its tenants to return, their arms full of tidings and gifts. Room 324, with its open windows and bedroom doors widely ajar, opens its eyes to the morning sun. Room 324, and the whole apartment complex for that matter, is on an expansive hill, overlooks the coastal town of Mayfair, CA. But in its immediate backyard lies a quiet and subtle inkling of a meadow. The meadow faces the sun when it rises, as to catch the sun before anyone else in Mayfair.

In this meadow, a single car, windows broken and smashed long ago, lay undeterred and untouched for what might seem an eternity. The hood, crumpled from a collision, had been the subject of abuse and battery from the local teenagers for as long as the car had remained there. Blackened by fire, the car may seem like all hope is lost, but the glass from the windows and windshield lay undisturbed on the grassy meadow surrounding the car. The glass reflects and magnifies the incoming morning sunlight, pushing forth a notion of one last stand against the forces of darkness and despair. The sun rises from above its alcove of retainment, and pushes with it one last beacon of hope in the darkness.

**But with that statement, I have come to realize one thing, and that is the hope is always there; just because your eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness, doesn't mean the light is never coming back.**

title: [Mayfair]

question: What time of day is it?

answer: Dusk

question: What is the setting?

answer: A carnival, "Park on the Pier"

question: In the apartment complex, which is the empty room?

answer: Room 324

question: What town is the apartment complex in?

answer: Mayfair, California

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator guides us along a detailed description of a carnival, the Park on the Pier, and an adjacent apartment building as night falls. The tone of the document is ghoulish, there is no mention of people, and the focus is on the lifeless and motionless inanimate features of the carnival, as well as a single empty room in the complex, and an abandoned car in a nearby meadow. The document explores the loneliness and hollowness of decay, and humbles the places and spaces that can capture and comfort the wildest of imaginations when inhabited, but feel dark and haunted when there is no one around to occupy them.


split: train

text:
_PECANAPIS_ is a genus of South American araneomorph spiders in the family Anapidae, containing the single species, _PECANAPIS FRANCKEI_. It was first described by Norman I. Platnick & Raymond Robert Forster in 1989,[1] and has only been found in Chile.[2]

[1]

[2]

title: Pecanapis

question: What are Pecanapis?

answer: It is a genus of South American araneomorph spiders.

question: Which family do Pecanapis belong to?

answer: They belong to the Anapidae family.

question: How many species does the genus have?

answer: One.

question: Where are they found?

answer: In Chile.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer:
Pecanapis is a genus of South American araneomorph spiders. They belong to the Anapidae family and were first described by Norman I. Platnick and Raymond Robert Forster.

The genus has only one species, Pecanapis Franckei, and is found in Chile.


text:
The HONG KONG FILM DIRECTORS' GUILD (HKFDG; ) is an entertainment guild founded in 1989 to represent the interests of directors in the Hong Kong film industry.[1] At the Hong Kong Film Awards committee member votes contribute a weight of 25% towards the overall score of in the categories Best Director, Best New Director and Best Visual Effects.[2]

Executive Committee Members

  Header text             Header text
  ----------------------- -------------
  Honorary Presidents
  Honorary Advisors
  President
  Vice-Presidents
  Committee Members
  Members by invitation

[1]

[2]

title: Hong Kong Film Directors' Guild

question: What does HKFDG stand for?

answer: Hong kong FIlm Directors Guild

question: What does the HKFDG do?

answer: It represents the interests of film directors in the Hong King film industry.

question: Do the members affect award ceremonies?

answer: Yes, their votes count 25% to the overall score in multiple categories at the Hong Kong film awards.

question: When was the guild set up?

answer: 1989.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: A brief explanation of what The Hong Kong Film Directors' Guild (HKFDG) is.


text:
AVONGROVE TEA ESTATE is a tea garden in the Mirik CD block in the Mirik subdivision of the Darjeeling district in West Bengal, India.

Geography

Avongrove Tea Estate, located in the Rangbhang Valley,[1] sits on the banks of the Balason River at feet above sea level. This high-elevation estate goes up to . Approximately of land is growning tea, and there are 500 workers who live on the estate to maintain optimal plucking rounds. Avongrove means “Nest of Birds”.[2]

Avongrove is certified as an organic tea estate under USA (USA), JAS (Japan), NOP and NPOP (India and the EU).[3]

Note: The map alongside presents some of the notable locations in the subdivision. All places marked in the map are linked in the larger full screen map.

Production

The factory was built in 1998 and produces of tea a year. The estate has a perennial source of water and almost the entire area under tea can be irrigated.

Economy

Approximately 60% of the area under tea has chinary and chinary clonal bushes. Of the 40% that remains, about 20% are hybrid bushes and a very small percentage are pure Assam tea.

Avongrove offers a range of specialty Darjeeling tea, such as the peony rosette and florette, the latter of which expands when allowed to gently brew in a tall container, revealing a flower when the hot water makes the outer leaves unfurl. One woman, working an entire day, can make only six of them.[4] [Avongrove Tea estate]

[1]

[2] http://www.edenstea.com

[3] http://www.avongrovetea.com

[4] http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/Features/Time_to_sit_up__smell_the_tea/articleshow/3477927.cms

title: Avongrove Tea Estate

question: Where is Avongrove Tea Estate?

answer: The Mirik CD block in the Mirik subdivision of the Darjeeling district in West Bengal, India.

question: What valley is Avongrove Tea Estate located in?

answer: Rangbhang Valley.

question: When was the factory built?

answer: 1998.

question: How much of the area under tea has chinary and chinary clonal bushes?

answer: 60%.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: This article is about Avongrove Tea Estate, a tea garden in West Bengal, India.


text:
The prompt was "Being sincere is important"
	“So you thought you could run?” A crumpled man on his knees bowed, broken and shaking in front of another. It was dark. A single flickering light in the back of the bar provided glimpses of the second man’s thick figure, relaxed in an armchair. He was fingering a 10mm automatic pistol, perennially releasing and reclosing the metallic magazine catch. He was completely relaxed and held the weapon loosely in his hand so that it could have been snatched by the first man had he been inclined. In a very business-like manner, the second man arose from his seat, kicked the shuddering mass in front of him and walked out of the room.
	Virgil shuddered as left the room. He leaned against the door, head in his arms and closed his eyes. He had performed this act countless times. He had been told that he would come to enjoy the immense power that he possessed so - like any good actor - he adopted a guise and put on a performance. He controlled New Jersey: the crime, drugs, and sex trade.  He had done his time on the streets as a dealer and now he had moved on to bigger and better things. He was a killer. “Only because they deserve it”, he often rationalized to himself. He looked down at the gun in his hand and flipped the trigger back and forth. In a few short years, what had started off as a way to earn some extra cash had quickly escalated into a career of perfunctory crime.
	As he stood there with his head in his arms, he thought of what he had to do. The solid oak door in front of him was all that stood between the bleeding man on the other side and his grave. There was no way out of this business. He knew that better than anyone.  He looked at his watch. He did not want to kill the man.
	Virgil opened the door and turned to the man who had managed to pull himself onto his side. He loaded the gun, took a deep breath then - like a gunshot - turned and ran.
	“This isn’t for me”, he thought, pounding the sidewalk in front of him. “Why did I ever start this?” he said aloud, turning down the adjacent, busier street. “Why did you make me do this?” he now yelled at no one in particular as he hurried into his driveway. He wanted to scream wildly, to release some anger.  He wanted to blame someone.
The dashboard of his car reflected his own angry face back at him.
	Virgil sped down the highway pondering the origins of the façade he had erected for so many years.  He had never wanted to kill anyone but it took him until now to convince himself of that internalized truth.

title: Advice on how to improve my short story?

question: How many men in sum are in the room?

answer: Three.

question: What indicates that the man on his knees has resigned himself to dying?

answer: He could reach for the pistol and possibly obtain it but he doesn't.

question: What does Virgil do?

answer: He's a mob boss.

question: Does Virgil actually kill the man?

answer: It says he turned and ran but it's not completely clear.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer: Three men are in a dark room: the shuddering captive, a man with a gun, and a man holding the captive before him. The man with the gun is Virgil. He knows it's part of the business, but he never got into the business to kill people. He knows he has to kill the man, so he loads the gun. The Virgil turns and runs. As he speeds down the highway he reflects on how he never wanted to kill.


text:
                                                Prologue
The world of Nexus was once a beautiful place; It was once full of Life. Where when it was day the moon shined brightly, Then night fell and the sun would brightly introduce itself. The grass was a nice and lush green, the sky was a bright blue color with pink fluffy clouds almost like cotton candy. In the sky where the birds who changed color to their surroundings to hide from prey. Trees were purple with different shades of yellow leaves. The flowers where bright colors and big, the honey bees who collected where even bigger. People and Animals alike where all nice and friendly to each other.

Then the Dark King and his seven warriors came from the shadows. Not only destroying the land but breaking into the castle over whelming the guards, killing the king and the queen but throwing the princess in the ocean to drown and die. Now the world of Nexus was vast waste land, the sun and the moon now in the same sky always together never apart, so there is no night and day. The grass is dead, the once beautiful Sky is now full of smog and dust with no cotton candy clouds. The color changing bird have become scavengers killing anything and anyone for food. The trees are dull and dead, the once lovely yellow leaves are falling off and disintegrating. What was once vibrant flowers are now small and not noticeable. The honeybee's are now zombies wanting to kill you. The people and Animals now fight and murder over the petty things that were once never important or to just fight and murder. Nexus, once known as the world that fixed problems was now the world which was a desolate desert where all hope is gone.

The hope was gone until now. The sun and the moon where home to the goddess of the sun and god of the moon. They were not allowed to interferer with the world they created but now it was far to worse. So they decided to help, without helping, The two combined their powers to create a warrior that will kill the king and save the land and bring it back to the lively place it once was. They sent the light down to Nexus hoping the warrior would be everything there land would need.

But, the goddess of the sun and the god of the moon, there powers where to different and the light split into two, going away from each other and landing in two different parts of the land of Nexus. Not only having one but now two warriors.

                                                   Chapter One
                                                  Raelynn's p.o.v.
I woke up a throbbing feel to my head, “god damnit...” I muttered. I sat up slightly my whole body in pain like I had fell from a tree. I finally got a chance to look at my surroundings. I was sitting in dirt with patches of dead grass. The trees looked dead and like they would fall any minute. Bones covered the ground now if they were animals or humans I can't say for sure.

Finally I got the strength to stand up. Once the dizzy spell was over I looked at the sky, it was grey and you really couldn't see anything, “This place is gross...” I whispered. I heard a roar and looked behind me as a lion ran towards me, no wait it was and octopus, no maybe a lion. No I am thinking it is both. Either way it was four times my size and it was coming to kill me.

“Branch!” I looked around frantically, “Raelynn needs a branch!” Finally my eyes caught a staff, I picked it up and stabbed the thing in the head with the sharp end. It screeched but went down. That’s when I finally got to take a good look at the staff I held. There was a glass bubble around the top, inside was a crystal that looked like a club from a suit of cards, and there was ribbon tied around the staff cascading down with mini crystals attached to the ends. I looked at the sharp end it also looked to be made of crystal and was the spade from the cards. But the staff itself was a dark black color. I started to walk my way through the dead trees I needed to find water my throat burned.

I kept walking for what seems like hours till I came across what looked like an over grown bush. I pushed it aside and finally found water, not that I would really trust anything around her but my throat was just going to die I was going to have to take what I could get and not complain. I took off my one fingerless glove and dipped my hands in and took a big gulp feeling the water tickle down my throat appreciating how cold it was.

Finally I got the chance to look at myself in the water, I was pretty pale, and I had short silver hair with black in it. I had blue eyes. My left cheek had a spade on it, my right a club. I looked down and took in my clothes. I was wearing a black and white Lolita type dress, with a Red ribbon around my waist and matching red combat boots. My left sock was white with black clubs and my right sock was black with white spades. With the pattern of my clothing it only comes to the conclusion that The staff I had found was mine to.

Just where did I come from?
Just who am I exactly?
What is the purpose I serve in this world?

“your new around here” A voice purred

I turned and looked at the voice it was a woman, she had long yellow hair

                               The end for now also thanks for reading :D

title: [FN] A short story my girlfriend is writing,What do you guy's think? feedback would be great

question: What is the primary conflict in the story?

answer: The Dark King has usurped the land and drowned the world in death and misery. The God and Goddess of the world are barred from intervening directly. They decide to send a warrior together. However, their powers fail to combine so two warriors descend on the world.

question: What does the story say about the solar and lunar cycles?


text:
“You should put on some long pants,” I advised my brother.

We headed down through a yellow field of tall grasses.  Its slope converged at the center like a valley, here, high among the San Francisco foothills.  The Western sun shone gently upon our earnest escapades.  I wanted our adventures to embody the spirit of this city, a mystical bastion of all freedoms.

The field's ending was demarcated by a sort of incomplete fence, probably put there decades ago by the Spanish or the young American imperialists.  We stumbled to the gate, which hung open perfectly and allowed the cool ocean breeze to pass through like a gust of its own breath.  Matt was waiting on the other side.  He was a year older and wiser, well acquainted with the ways of the city's center.  He'd told us stories about all of the nooks and strange neighborhoods, the nudists and the secret passageways and the unique chill you could feel when you ate ice cream on the beach near the Golden Gate Bridge.

Matt was just the person I wanted to see.  Though I knew it would disappoint my brother, my goal would be aided by this traveler's expertise with the city's heartbeat.  I bid my time as we made our way through the less fertile crags of the hills, full of rocks, mosses, and bird droppings.

We overcame the precipice, and I could see a large numbers of graves in the direction we were heading in.  As we approached, I heard a slight buzz.  Matt groaned and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

“I have to get home for dinner, guys.  Sorry.  Maybe tomorrow.”

*Damn*, I thought.  I consoled myself with the knowledge that I couldn't have asked him now, anyway.  I could still enjoy this exploration- what appeared to be an antique cemetery, alone with my similarly-minded brother.  We stepped up, upon the artificially elevated ground of the yard, and looked around.  The rows went on for what seemed like forever.  I noticed a huge chamber near the center, which had to be a tomb for someone important.  As I went along, I observed the dates on the graves.  I was surprised at the age: they were almost exclusively from the mid-to-late 1700s, and the few exceptions were only slightly newer.  One must have been a young boy: his date of death was just before his eighth birthday.  Some had flowery patterns carved into the sides, and there were the customary cherubic angels tending to the invisible gardens growing atop the headstones.

I reached the massive tomb.  The faded brown doors exuded an antiquated feeling, and I could see that the stony sides were cracking.  Looking around and discovering no unwanted observers, I drew closer.  I saw notes and small trinkets scattered upon the small floor in front of the entrance.  Upon further inspection, the door was missing one of its bolts.  This rendered it almost imperceptibly ajar, but the opening was there.  I cautiously took another step forward and heard a crunch under my foot.  Curious, I leaned down and picked up the note.

The handwriting was scrawled hurriedly, and I could barely make it out on the piece of paper that was shredded at all corners.  After a little scrutiny, I picked out the strange message:

“NOT ME AGAIN”

I dropped it and ran blindly from the tomb.  My eyes scanned the graveyard and I realized that I didn't know where my brother was.  I tripped and fell, and collected myself against General Juan Pablo de la Trinidad's epitaph.  Slowly, I was able to calm myself, and rationalized it by acknowledging the likelihood of bored vandals.

My brother came trudging up from the left.  “A lot of old graves,” he quipped.

I brushed off my jeans, embarrassed at my former fright.   The sun now hung just a nickel's width above the Pacific, and I reminded my brother that we should head back.  I hadn't talked to Matt or seen the cool parts of the city, but I had tomorrow.  I still had to visit Fortunata, and who knew what she might show me?

title: The Old Cemetery

question: Where is the narrator going?

answer: The narrator is going to a graveyard.

question: Why is the narrator in a graveyard?

answer: Unclear, they seem to be exploring it for fun.

question: Why is there a note in the graveyard?

answer: Unclear, the passage notes that there are notes and items scattered around the tomb's entrance.

question: Who is Matt?

answer: Unclear, Matt seems to be a friend of the narrator's.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator, their brother, and Matt are about to explore a graveyard. Matt unexpectedly needs to leave, so the narrator and their brother enter alone. They reach a massive tomb, where they see a handwritten note that says "NOT ME AGAIN". This scares the narrator, who scrambles away.


text:
[Talk of causation when it comes to randomized controlled trials should be more precise, says Tania Lombrozo.]

[Talk of causation when it comes to randomized controlled trials should be more precise, says Tania Lombrozo.]

The gold standard for establishing a causal relationship — between, say, a drug and some health outcome — is a randomized controlled trial, or RCT.

RCTs are powerful for a few reasons.

First, RCTs involve an experimental manipulation of the causal factor of interest. Rather than merely observing a correlation between, say, chocolate consumption and levels of happiness in a large and diverse population, an RCT involves an _intervention_ on people's consumption of chocolate: People in one group are assigned to eat chocolate; people in another group are assigned to abstain. This ensures that if a correlation between chocolate consumption and happiness is observed, it's due to a causal relationship such that chocolate affects happiness, and not some other causal structure (for instance, that being happy leads to greater chocolate consumption, or that both chocolate consumption and happiness are caused by frequent socializing).

Second, RCTs involve _randomization_. That's important because all sorts of factors could influence the effect of interest. Chocolate might (or might not) affect happiness, but so might one's social environment, immediate stressors, health, genetic predispositions, and more. Assigning people to one condition or the other at random ensures that these additional sources of variation in happiness aren't systematically related to chocolate consumption, and therefore a potential confounding factor.

So RCTs are a gold standard for good reason: They help us avoid some of the pitfalls in going from observations to conclusions about how factors are causally related.

What isn't often appreciated, though, is how the notion of causation established by an RCT departs from the way we often use causal language in informal conversations. Consider three ways that our everyday use of causal language conflicts with what we might call the "RCT" notion of causation:

1. Sometimes when we make causal claims, we're in the business of assigning moral responsibility. The actions of two drivers may have caused the collision in the sense that had either acted differently, the collision could have been avoided. But if one was driving carefully while the other ran a red light under the influence of alcohol, we're inclined to say the latter caused the accident. If we scale up this single event to something like an RCT, the conclusions can be counterintuitive. Imagine 200 situations in which a drunk driver runs a red light. Now we experimentally vary whether there's another driver crossing the intersection. The 100 cases with the second driver yield an accident; the 100 without do not. Do we conclude that the presence of the law-abiding driver is the cause of the collision? In one sense this is surely right; but in another it gets something deeply wrong.

2. Sometimes when we make causal claims, we care about the _mechanism_ by which the cause brings about the effect, not merely that it increases its probability. To illustrate, imagine the following hypothetical scenario: Two thousand people with a terminal illness are randomly assigned to one of two groups. In the treatment group, participants take a new drug for their illness that's feared to increase the risk of skin cancer as a side effect. In a control group, participants take a placebo. After the trial period, the study finds that the treatment group indeed has higher rates of skin cancer than the control group. It sounds like a causal relationship has been established: The new drug causes skin cancer. But now suppose we learn the following: The new drug in fact causes forgetfulness. Forgetfulness meant that those in the treatment group were more likely to forget to put on sunscreen. Failing to wear sunscreen is what led to the elevated levels of skin cancer. Again, there's some sense in which the drug _did_ cause an increase in skin cancer, but it also seems misleading to simply say that it causes skin cancer: What it does is prevent people from preventing skin cancer.

3. Sometimes when we make causal claims, we care about capturing a feature of the whole population we're making a claim about, not just a subset. Suppose 1,000 men and women in our treatment group take a drug designed to decrease depression; those in the control group take a placebo. We find that the former group experiences significantly fewer symptoms of depression. It appears that taking the drug causes depressive symptoms to decrease! But a finer-grained look reveals that the effect is driven entirely by women: For the men, taking the drug had no effect. Although the original RCT supports the claim that taking the drug has a causal effect on depressive symptoms, the statement doesn't apply equally to the whole population. The unqualified statement ("taking the drug causes depressive symptoms to decrease") seems to get something wrong.

These examples are just three among many. They illustrate some of the subtleties in the way we talk about causation — subtleties that have been recognize by psychologists and philosophers, but that aren't necessarily captured by the notion of causation established by an RCT. This isn't necessarily a surprise — lots of terms have multiple senses, some informal, some technical, and some a mix of both. But it does come with an important caution: We need to be careful in how we interpret the results of RCTs, and in what we infer from informal causal claims. And maybe, to help us get things right, we need a more precise way to talk about causation.

_Tania Lombrozo is a psychology professor at the University of California, Berkeley. She writes about psychology, cognitive science and philosophy, with occasional forays into parenting and veganism. You can keep up with more of what she is thinking on Twitter:_ @TaniaLombrozo

question: What is an RCT?

answer: An RCT is a randomized controlled trial.

question: What does Tania Lombrozo suggest regarding RCTs?

answer: Talking of causation in RCTs, needs to be more precise.

question: What does the article suggest are the reasons RCTs are powerful?

answer: RCTs involve an experimental manipulation of the causal factor of interest. Rather than merely observing a correlation, RCTs involve an intervention, which ensures if a correlation exists it's due to a specific relationship, not a some other causal structure. RCTs involve randomization.

question: Why are RCTs considered the "gold standard"?

answer: RCTs help avoid some of the pitfalls in going from observations to conclusions about how factors are causally related.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: An RCT is a randomized controlled trial. RCTs help avoid some of the pitfalls in going from observations to conclusions about how factors are causally related. This post describes the reasons RCTs are so powerful.


text:
ALFRED OBREY (3 June 1912 – 26 November 1986) was an English former footballer.

Playing career

Obrey played for Longton before joining Port Vale as an amateur in May 1936, signing as a professional in October of that year.[1] He made his debut in October 1936 and his first game was the first of a thirteen-game unbeaten run for the club, the first nine of which Obrey helped prevent the opposing centre-forwards from scoring any goals.[2] He scored his first senior goal against York City on 13 February 1937, in a 2–1 victory at Bootham Crescent.[3] He finished the 1936–37 season with 33 appearances to his name.[4] He lost his first team place in December 1937, and was limited to 16 Third Division North appearances in 1937–38.[5] He was transferred to Tranmere Rovers in June 1938, who were relegated out of the Second Division in 1938–39.[6] Obrey returned to Port Vale as a guest in September 1939, but left on the conclusion of the 1939–40 season as the club went into abeyance due to the war.[7]

Statistics

Source:[8]

  Club              Season                 Division               League   Cups   Total
  ----------------- ---------------------- ---------------------- -------- ------ ------- ---- ---- ---
  Apps              Goals                  Apps                   Goals    Apps   Goals
  Port Vale         1936–37                Third Division North   29       1      4
  1937–38           Third Division North   16                     0        2      0
  Total             45                     1                      6        0      51
  Tranmere Rovers   1938–39                Second Division        17       0      0
  Career total      62                     1                      6        0      68

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

title: Fred Obrey

question: Who was Fred Obrey?

answer: An English footballer

question: What teams did Fred Obrey play for?

answer: Longton, Port Vale, and Tranmere Rovers

question: Why did Fred Obrey leave Port Vale?

answer: The club went into abeyance due to the war.

question: When did Fred Obrey join Port Vale?

answer: May 1936

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Fred Obrey was an English footballer who played for Longton, Port Vale, and Tranmere Rovers.


text:
Once upon a time, there were four angles that were best friends, there was Right Angle, and he always thought he was perfect since he added up to 90 degrees. Acute and her twin sister, they always complimented each other since they were both 45 degrees, perfect complementary angles. And Obtuse Angle, the big clown of the group, the other angles always pocked fun at him, saying he was a one angle supplementary, but they were wrong, he was only 179 degrees, so jokes on them. One day they decided they wanted to go to the great Plane. The Plane was a popular attraction for Angles all over the world; it was filled with beautiful sites, and extended on and on forever. All you had to do was take a right, then a left and you were at the door to the magical Plane.

The four friends set out on their journey and quickly reached the door to the grand and mystical Plane. This was the first time any of them had been to the great Plane, and they ran into a small problem. Obtuse was too big to get through the door! Acute teased him by dashing back and forth laughing. “See, you are so big you hit every Vertex of the door!” Acute joked.

“Well, I’m afraid we are going to have to cut you into two congruent pieces Obtuse if you want through” stated Right Angle. “What? No? I don’t want to be cut in half” exclaimed Obtuse, “there has to be another way.” Obtuse angle and Right angle argued about this for a good 10 minutes, Acute took this opportunity to make another joke and measured Obtuse with a Protractor and made more fun of his size. This sent Obtuse over the edge and he cried and cried. “I’m sorry” said Acute “it was mean of me to make fun of you.” But it didn’t help and Obtuse cried and cried some more, but the whole time, he got smaller and smaller, until he was just the perfect size to fit though the door. Right Angle saw the opportunity and pushed him through the door.

Just like that they were in the great Plane, it was beautiful, better than anything they could have imagined, it was completely white, extending on for as long as the eye could see, brightly colored points in space, every color and every shade you could ever think of, they light up the sky like fireworks. “What are those spots up there?” asked Obtuse. “Why those are Points, they litter the great Plane and are everywhere you look.” Explained Right Angle. Obtuse looked to the right and saw two colored lines shoot across the sky, “Oh my, what are those lines, they look like they are racing” said Obtuse. “Those lines are something called parallel lines, they travel across the great Plane, they travel in two opposite directions for as long as you can see, but will never ever meet” said Right Angle. “For some reason that makes me sad they will never meet” said Obtuse with a frown.

The four friends spent another hour or two taking in the sights, but suddenly, everything got a little dark, and some of the dots started disappearing. Looking up they saw the destroyer of the Plane. “What is that?” cried Acute. “Well that is the great eraser, and we better start running” stated Right Angle rather calmly, and so they ran, as quick as they possibly could, with dots and lines disappearing all around them, and the shadow of the great eraser slowly coming closer and closer. They could see the door in the distance but it was a long shot.

Obtuse was trailing slightly behind the rest; he had a drink since his big cry, and was back to his old 179 degrees. Almost all of the color dots were gone at this point, and the great and powerful eraser set its sights on the weak angles, chasing them with all its speed. Acute and her sister made it to the door first, and dove through it, followed by Right Angle, and bringing up the rear was Obtuse, with the great eraser right on his tail, he slammed in to the door but was just too big.

Obtuse turned around just in time to see the eraser not even a foot from him. He pushed with all his force and came flying through the door; the eraser had erased some of him, just enough to fit through the door. Obtuse didn’t mind however because the eraser had erased just enough of him to bring him to a perfect 90 degrees, no more jokes at his expense, looks like Right Angle isn't the only perfect angle in town anymore.

The four friends never returned to the great Plane, now that they knew how dangerous it was, but they were glad they got to see it, and the memory of the dancing bright lights will stay with them for the rest of their days, all they have to do is close their eyes and they see the sky light up with beautiful lights of every color. Something so wonderful will never be forgotten.
The end!

If you see any Grammatical errors please let me know!

title: Short kids story about Angles

question: Summarize the eraser's role in the story.

answer: The eraser serves as the antagonist in the story. It appears on the Plane, where the angles are having a nice day, and erases the sights they are enjoying. It chases them off the Plane, and they manage to escape, but Obtuse has some of his shape erased in the escape.

question: Summarize what the story says about body size.

answer: Obtuse is the biggest angle in the group, with Right Angle being described as perfect and the two Acute twins are fine because together they make up the same size as Right Angle. Acute teases Obtuse about his size. Right Angle suggests cutting Obtuse in half to fit him through a door, which he then only fits through after shedding enough of his size in tears. Later, when running from the eraser, Obtuse is once again too big for the door (having drunk water to replenish his size) but the eraser on his tail erases just enough of him to make him a 'perfect' 90 degrees, just like Right Angle.

question: What does the story say about algebra?

question: Summarize how the story describes the Plane.

answer: The great, magical Plane is a popular attraction for Angles all over the world, filled with beautiful sites. It seems to extend infinitely. The way to get there is to take a right and then a left, and then go through the door. The four friends experience it for the first time as even better than they imagined - completely white with bright points in space and every color lighting up the sky. Parallel lines run across the sky.

question: What does the story say about quadrangles?


text:
ADDISON C. SPRUILL (born May 14, 1993) is a professional basketball player for the Raiffeisen Flyers Wels of the Österreichische Basketball Bundesliga. He played collegiately for the University of North Carolina at Wilmington Seahawks of the Colonial Athletic Association. He was part of their 2015 Colonial Athletic Association championship team coached by Kevin Keatts.

High school years

Spruill was born in the Bronx, New York, and attended Pender High School in Burgaw, North Carolina. He was a standout athlete that was a letterman in both football and basketball. Spruill averaged 18.2 points, 8.1 rebounds and 3.2 assists for Pender High School. He led the Patriots to 27-2 record and appearance in Eastern Regional final.

College years

Addison attended Brevard Community College and later transferred to the University of North Carolina at Wilmington (UNCW).

2014-15 (Senior)

-   Named First-Team All-CAA after second and final season with Seahawks
-   Started 30-of-32 appearances and led team in scoring with 14.2 points per game
-   Also led team in rebounding with 6.5 rebounds each contest
-   Led team's regulars in free throw accuracy with 73.0%
-   Paced club in scoring 10 times and in rebounding 12 games
-   Reached double figures in scoring in 26-of-32 games
-   Scored 11 points and led team with eight rebounds in the CIT game at Sam Houston
-   Had 12 points with four assists in the CAA semifinals vs. Northeastern
-   Shared team lead with 19 points vs. Charleston in the CAA quarterfinals
-   Went 7-of-10 from floor and 4-of-4 at foul line en route to 18 points vs. James Madison University
-   Led team with 26 points, including 10-of-11 at free throw line, at Towson University
-   Paced Seahawks with 16 points on 6-of-12 shooting vs. Northeastern
-   Made all eight free throw attempts en route to 16 points vs. Charleston
-   Went 6-of-16 from floor en route to 18 points at James Madison University
-   Scored 19 points on 8-of-14 shooting at Drexel
-   Came off the bench for first time this year and had 18 points in win over Towson
-   Posted third career double-double with 11 points and 13 rebounds at Charleston
-   Named CAA Player-of-the-Week for first time in career on Jan. 19
-   Paced Seahawks for second straight game with 23 points at Hofstra
-   Exploded for career-high 33 points on 12-of-16 shooting on 1/14/15 at William & Mary
-   Posted second career double-double with 12 points and 11 rebounds vs. Drexel
-   Scored 11 points with nine rebounds, four assists and four blocks vs. Delaware
-   Scored 20 points in 35 minutes at Northeastern University
-   Led team with 16 points at Ohio
-   Scored 12 points with six rebounds at Minnesota
-   Had 11 points and six rebounds vs. East Carolina
-   Started sixth straight game and finished with four points and six boards at University of Louisville
-   Scored 13 points with four boards and four assists vs. St. Andrews
-   Achieved first double-double with 17 points and 10 rebounds at Davidson
-   Poured in career-high 20 points at Virginia Military Institute
-   Led team with 15 points in season-opener at Old Dominion

2013-14 (Junior)

-   Ranked second on team in scoring with 9.3 points per game in his first season with team
-   Led the Seahawks in scoring five times and on the glass in four contests
-   Also led squad in assists in four games
-   Ranked third on the team in rebounding with 3.5 per game
-   Finished with four points and two rebounds in the CAA Tournament loss to Hofstra
-   Had six points and five rebounds in regular season finale vs. Delaware
-   Finished with 10 points, two rebounds and three assists at William & Mary
-   Had eight points, three rebounds and three assists at James Madison University
-   Led team with 22 points and added five rebounds at Drexel
-   Recorded 12th double figure game with 16 points off bench vs. University of Delaware
-   Collected 12 points and seven rebounds vs. Hofstra
-   Scored 11 points and had nine rebounds at Towson
-   Contributed 15 points off bench vs. Manhattan
-   Collected 15 points and five rebounds at East Carolina University
-   Played 34 minutes and led team with 23 points vs. Stephen F. Austin
-   Scored 19 points with five rebounds at Marshall
-   Exploded for 24 points at Liberty, including 13-of-16 free throws
-   Contributed 12 points in first career start against Iowa State on November 20, 2013
-   Scored 10 points off bench in first career appearance at Iowa on November 8, 2013

Brevard Community College career

-   Averaged 17.0 points, 6.7 rebounds and 3.2 assists in two seasons
-   Played for Jeremy Schulman and powered the team to back-to-back 20-win seasons

Professional career

Addison began his professional basketball career in Japan while playing guard for the Hamamatsu Phoenix. He later was a starting guard for the Al-Rayann_AC Lions. He tried out with the Memphis Hustle but missed the final cut. He currently plays with the Flyers Wels.

2018 Uber Arrest

On March 17, 2018 (St. Patrick's Day) Spruill was driving two passengers for the ride-sharing service Uber, when he was stopped for speeding. Upon searching the car, police found drugs and arrested Spruill on an outstanding warrant for intimidating a witness. Uber subsequently suspended his account. Spruill was cleared of charges brought against him.[1] [2]

[1]

[2]

title: Addison Spruill

question: Who is Addison C. Spruill?

answer: He is a professional basketball player for the Raiffeisen Flyers Wels of the Österreichische Basketball Bundesliga.

question: What were Spruill's stats in basketball when he was at Pender High School?

answer: Spruill would average 18.2 points, 8.1 rebounds and 3.2 assists at Pender High School.

question: Where did Spruill begin his professional career?

answer: Spruill began his professional career in Japan when he played guard for the Hamamatsu Phoenix.

question: Why was Spruill arrested in 2018?

answer: Spruill was driving an Uber with two passengers and was pulled over for speeding. In the car, drugs were found and Spruill had an outstanding warrant for intimidating a witness.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This article highlights Addison C. Spruill's professional basketball career, ranging from early life until 2018. His long career accomplishments are described in detail.


text:
A story I wrote while waiting for the train one day. I have never read it, or attempted to edit it after I was finished. It is how I felt during an argument with my girlfriend. Enjoy.

An Afternoon In The Park

     There is an old man that everyday can be found on the same bench, feeding the same birds, and he always shows up at 12-noon on the dot. Although few take notice of him, he goes about his day and keeps to himself.
	It has been almost a year since his wife passed, and everyday his age starts to become more and more transparent. Every Saturday his son keeps him company. Usually the two sit in silence and face outward toward those passing by or the birds as they wrestle over crumbs of bread. Occasionally one nods to the other, and gets acknowledgments through a grunt. Call it guilt; call it the universal fear of regret that every son holds onto when they realize that they can lose a father without really ever knowing him. Today the son decides to reach out and learn something about the people who brought him into the world.
“Tell me about mom.”
	The old man stops moving. He looks out to the horizon, up to the sky, and finally right into his son’s eyes and offers a simple response of, “She was my heart and soul.” He maintained eye contact until he could no longer hide the weight of the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes. Even as a proud man he could not hide how much he truly missed his wife. Her death left him a hollow shell that could only continue on by maintaining the same mundane schedule.
	The son sat silently in a state of shocked disbelief. Throughout his life he thought he had seen every emotion possible from his father. Yet he had never seen grief such as this. When his father looked him in the eyes he could see an old lonely man. While the two had a loving relationship they had never really connected with each other. His father’s face displayed the many hardships and loss that go along with the happiness and joy in life. The youthfulness that he always attributed to his father had been replaced with a visage that resembled a young boy whose dog has ran away never to return. He wanted to lighten the mood so he tried to recall a happy family memory.
“Remember my first day of college and moving into the dorms? Remember how much mom embarrassed me by handing me a box of condoms in front of that big group of girls in the lobby?”
	Sitting on his left, all the son could see was a smile and chuckle as the old man replied, “Your face was redder than the school’s mascot.” His son would never know, but a single tear feel down the right side of the old man’s cheek as he relieved such a happy memory.

“Didn’t you and mom meet at state?” asked the son.

“Yep.” The old man replied.

“She always told me you went there to be with her and how romantic it was.”

“Nope, I went there for myself.”

	This surprised the son. He had grown up with the idea that his parents met because his father went to State to be with his mother; if this wasn’t the case, than what about all the other stories?

“Didn’t you quit drinking for mom?”

“Nope, I did it for myself.”

“What about your job? Wasn’t there a time you got offered a corporate position and you turned it down to start family?”

“Nope, I did it for myself.”

	Frustrated, his son couldn’t believe what he was hearing from the man he called father his whole life.

“What about all the money you worked for? The Corvette? The house you bought? Why you quit smoking and drinking?”

	With each question asked the old man would give the same response: “I did it for myself.” Fed up with getting nowhere the son stopped his inquiry, and the two sat in silence for a while. Eventually it became overwhelming to the son and he blurted out uncontrollably, “What did you do for mom then?” Once again the old man looked out, took a deep breath and replied:

“Everything else.”

	For the rest of the afternoon the two sat together in silence. For the first time in his life the son felt that he finally saw a glimpse of his father that he swore did not exist. The old man never made a claim toward achieving perfection in his life, but those two words will forever leave an imprint on the son’s impression of the man he calls his father.

title: An Afternoon In The Park

question: What is the message of the writer to the reader?

answer: That love can come in a form that is not easily weighed and measured, it can be in actions that others would not easily perceive. That being a husband is more than just providing material needs. And lastly, it is possible to be a good loving husband while still doing things for one's own self-improvement.

question: What is the financial status of the family?

answer: The narrative states that the son was able to attend college, and that the old man bought a corvette and that their house is bought (implying that it is fully paid for). This is despite the fact that the man turned down a corporate position. It is likely that they could be considered as a well-to-do family without any financial concerns.

question: What was the writer feeling when they wrote this work?

answer: The writer was likely to have been having introspective feelings after an argument with his girlfriend and reflecting on what his views on a good relationship is. It is probable that he projected his persona on the character of the old man. In the story, the questions from the son allowed the writer to convey the ideals that he had towards romantic relationships. Since the main narrative focused on "what did the old man do for his wife", it is likely that the writer probably felt that the actions that he did out of love had mostly gone unnoticed.

question: Identify the time period in which the story took place.

answer: The story is set in the modern era. The old man once bought a Corvettes, which is a modern car. While the son had been what appears to be a co-ed dormitory in college, and their family was forward thinking enough for his parents to be giving him a box of condoms.


text:
[Prehistoric caribou hunting structure discovered beneath Lake Huron]
Diver and ROV collecting samples. Credit: University of Michigan

Underwater archaeologists have discovered evidence of prehistoric caribou hunts that provide unprecedented insight into the social and seasonal organization of early peoples in the Great Lakes region.

An article detailing the discovery of a 9,000-year-old caribou hunting drive lane under Lake Huron appears in today's issue of the _Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences_.

"This site and its associated artifacts, along with environmental and simulation studies, suggest that Late Paleoindian/Early Archaic caribou hunters employed distinctly different seasonal approaches," said John O'Shea, the Emerson F. Greenman Professor of Anthropological Archaeology at the University of Michigan and lead author of the article.

"In autumn, small groups carried out the caribou hunts, and in spring, larger groups of hunters cooperated."

According to O'Shea, who is also Curator of U-M's Great Lakes Division of the Museum of Anthropological Archaeology, the site was discovered on the Alpena-Amberley Ridge, under 121 feet of water, about 35 miles southeast of Alpena, Mich., on what was once a dry land corridor connecting northeast Michigan to southern Ontario.

[Prehistoric caribou hunting structure discovered beneath Lake Huron]
Drop45 Drive Lane. Credit: University of Michigan

The main feature, called Drop 45 Drive Lane, is the most complex hunting structure found to date beneath the Great Lakes. Constructed on level limestone bedrock, the stone lane is comprised of two parallel lines of stones leading toward a cul-de-sac formed by the natural cobble pavement. Three circular hunting blinds are built into the stone lines, with additional stone alignments that may have served as blinds and obstructions for corralling caribou.

Although autumn was the preferred hunting season for caribou, the orientation of Drop 45 shows that it would only have been effective if the animals were moving in a northwesterly direction, which they would have done during the spring migration from modern day Ontario.

[Prehistoric caribou hunting structure discovered beneath Lake Huron]
The Location of the Drop 45 Drive Lane. A. The American portion of the Alpena-Amberley Ridge during the later Lake Stanley low water phase (after ref. 14). Modern land is shown in brown, while areas of exposed dry land during Lake Stanley are green. Areas of water are presented in blue. The contour interval is 20 meters, with the modern lake shore represented as 176m amsl. Rectangular boxes locate the areas of active research. B. The topographic setting of the Drop 45 Drive Lane. Solid black lines represent 5 meter contours reported in meters amsl. The hatched area depicts areas that would have been under water at the time of use. This represents the Late Lake Stanley lake level, and reflects the last stable Lake Stanley elevation, roughly 40m amsl. The dotted lines represent low lines of stones channeling the movement of animals towards the middle of the landform. Inverted V symbols represent the location of V-shaped hunting blinds with their orientation reflected by the vertex of the ‘V’. The square symbol represents the location of a rectangular structure thought to represent a caching facility. Credit: University of Michigan

"It is noteworthy that V-shaped hunting blinds located upslope from Drop 45 are oriented to intercept animals moving to the southeast in the autumn," O'Shea said. "This concentration of differing types of hunting structures associated with alternative seasons of migration is consistent with caribou herd movement simulation data indicating that the area was a convergence point along different migration routes, where the landform tended to compress the animals in both the spring and autumn."

[Prehistoric caribou hunting structure discovered beneath Lake Huron]
The Drop 45 Drive Lane. (A) A plan showing the major topographic and cultural features associated with the drive lane. Black dots represent the location of placed stones. The hunting blinds incorporated within the main drive lane feature are labeled. The raised cobble surface to the north and west of the drive lane varies from 1-2 meters higher than the bedrock on which the drive lane stones are located. This plan was produced as an overlay of the acoustic image. (B) An acoustic image of the drive lane produced via a mosaic of scanning sonar images. The scanning unit is the black circular area near the center of the image and the red circles surrounding have radii that increase by 15m. A trace of the second scanning sonar location is visible in the southeast of the image. Light colored objects are stones that produce a strong acoustic signature while dark areas are acoustic shadows. Credit: University of Michigan

The structures in and around Drop 45, and the chipped stone debris for repairing stone tools, provide unambiguous evidence for intentional human construction and use of the feature, O'Shea said. And they also provide important insight into the social and economic organization of the ancient hunters using this area.

"The larger size and multiple parts of the complex drive lanes would have necessitated a larger cooperating group of individuals involved in the hunt," he said. "The smaller V-shaped hunting blinds could be operated by very small family groups relying on the natural shape of the landform to channel caribou towards them."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

------------------------------------------------------------------------

MORE INFORMATION: A 9,000-y-old caribou hunting structure beneath Lake Huron, _PNAS_, www.pnas.org/cgi/doi/10.1073/pnas.1404404111

CITATION: Prehistoric caribou hunting structure discovered beneath Lake Huron (2014, April 28) retrieved 1 December 2020 from https://phys.org/news/2014-04-prehistoric-caribou-beneath-lake-huron.html

This document is subject to copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study or research, no part may be reproduced without the written permission. The content is provided for information purposes only.

question: Where did archaeologists find evidence of prehistoric caribou?

answer: Lake Huron in the Great Lakes.

question: How old are the caribou remains?

answer: Nine-thousand-years old.

question: Which US state was this discovery in?

answer: Michigan.

question: What is the area known as?

answer: Drop 45.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: In Michigan, beneath Lake Huron, archaeologists have discovered 9,000 year-old remains of caribou. Further research has shown that early autumn was the preferred hunting season for the caribou, as Late Paleoindian/Early Archaic caribou hunters employed distinctly different seasonal approaches. Hunting patterns were in a "V" formation.


text:
The Internal Revenue Service revoked NPI’s 501(c)) nonprofit tax-exempt status because the organization failed to file tax returns for three consecutive years, the Los Angeles Times reported this week.

The revocation was retroactive to May 15 of last year when the nation’s leading alt-right group’s 2015 tax return would have been due. Tax records for nonprofits and charities are available for public inspection, showing total annual donations and how the money is expended, including salaries.

The revocation of NPI’s tax-exempt status brings into question, it appears, any tax-deductible donations given to NPI and claimed on individuals’ tax returns as charitable contributions. NPI’s national visibility grew during last year’s presidential bid of Donald Trump whose candidacy excited the white nationalist views of the alt-right.

The National Policy Institute raised $442,482 in tax-deductible contributions from 2007 through 2012, public records show. Its more recent donation totals aren’t available because required IRS filings weren’t done.

Meanwhile, authorities in Virginia say Spencer and his National Policy Institute, which has an office in Alexandria, aren’t properly registered to solicit funds as a non-profit in that state.

The _Times_ reported Spencer, who became president of NPI in 2011, raised more than $50,000 in donations from an online fundraising drive held during the end of 2016 and the beginning of this year. But as of February, public records maintained by the Virginia Office of Charitable and Regulatory Programs show the National Policy Institute is “not authorized to solicit in Virginia,” the newspaper reported.

Elaine Lidholm, a spokeswoman for the state agency, told the _Times_ that NPI mailed a “registration form to us years ago, but it was incomplete and we requested additional information [but] we never heard back from them.”

The _Times_ said when it requested information about Spencer’s group, Virginia “charity regulators removed the entry for the National Policy Institute from their public database of nonprofits and began a review, which remained active” this week.

Spencer is viewed as a key founder of the alt-right movement, whose followers variously voice support for anti-Semitism, white separatism and European-Aryan supremacy philosophies also promoted by such groups as the Ku Klux Klan, the Aryan Nations and assorted neo-Nazi and national socialist groups.

[Richard Spencer]

After Trump’s election, Spencer addressed the National Policy Institute’s annual conference in December, concluding by shouting, “Hail victory. Hail our people. Hail Trump!” Attendees responded with Hitler-style Nazi salutes.

In media interviews this week, Spencer didn’t accept responsibility for NPI losing its tax-exempt status, but rather told the _Times_ that “an IRS error led him to believe his group was not required to file federal tax returns.”

There is no mention of the development on Spencer’s alt-right web site that he launched on Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday in January.

The alt-right figurehead, who splits his time between Arlington, Virginia and Whitefish, Montana, has told reporters he will appeal and attempt to restore his group’s tax-exempt status.

However, as the _Times_ reported, the IRS could raise questions as to whether Spencer and his tax-exempt National Policy Institute violated IRS rules preventing officials of such non-profit organizations from making “partisan comments in official organization publications or at official functions of the organization.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Spencer told the LA newspaper. “I don’t want to make a comment because I don’t understand this stuff. It’s a bit embarrassing, but it’s not good. We’ll figure it out.”

question: Why did the Internal Revenue Service revoke the NPI's (National Policy Institute) non-profit tax-exempt status?

answer: They failed to file a tax return for three consecutive years.

question: How much did the NPI raise from 2007-2012?

answer: $442,582

question: Who is the president of the NPI?

answer: Richard Spencer

question: How did Spencer address the NPI's annual conference after Donald Trump as elected President of the United States of America?

answer: “Hail victory. Hail our people. Hail Trump!”

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: The National Policy Institute, a white supremacist organization led by its president Richard Spencer, has had their status as a non-profit revoked after having failed to file tax returns for three consecutive years. According to sources, the group received $442, 582 in tax-deductible contributions between the years 2007-2012 that they did not report. From their Virginia office headquarters, Spencer-in power since 2011 when former president Louis Andrews died-has shirked responsibility for this oversight. Elaine Lidholm, a state agency representative for the IRS, says the NPI sent partially-completed paperwork, but had not responded to requests for additional materials. The NPI has come under national fire for its ties to groups such as the Aryan Brotherhood and the Klu Klux Klan.


text:
there was the man who had touched me as a child. The monster.He was hooked up to some sort of anti movement thing. His arm was held out to me and held in a clasp, his index finger pointing out.

I sat before him in the chair.
He smiled as I put my hand onto his, examining the sharp spiked nails that had been driven into the most secret of my places.

"your hands are so soft, girl. Like an Angels"
I laughed coldly.

"enjoy it now. "

My eyes drank in the room. A small metal table was to my right. Surgical equipment lay upon it now.

"they're yours." a voice behind me said.

"I know. "
I stared at them for a moment. Should I do this? Who's going to stop me, after all?

 I grabbed a small but sharp scalpel. I played with it so the monster could see it. He began to sweat.

"it was all a misunderstanding angel. "  he stammered.

"save it. You never even apologised" I whispered.

"do you want me to now?" he queried.

Sliding the scalpel I made a small incision Between the soft part of his palm.

"remember when you made me play doctor?"

he was no longer smiling.

"remember when you used to touch me? of course you do. " disgusted, I noticed his erection.
He began shaking as his blood dripped onto my palms.

I smeared it onto his face and turned to the voice.
"I want this off me. Now. "
I was given alcohol.

Then gloves. Piercers gloves.

I continued.
[harsh dialogue. Monster loses his cool. ]
I cut away the skin next to his nail, exposing the right side of his finger bone. He cried out and I grabbed a towel to make it stop bleeding. I took the lighter and cauterised the remaining flesh.

I did the other side.

A small object used or pointing during surgery pushed back his cuticles. This was going to be the best part.

Taking the scalpel, I began to push the soft sensitive skin holding the nail to his finger. Once it was cleared and burned away I took pliers and tore the nail out effectively making him shriek. I laughed while I worked, and began humming the tune he used to.

title: [the memory] first post sorry, and I typed it on my phone, also unsure about formatting.

question: Why is the man strapped to a table?

answer: It's not made clear, although given he fact that there is a second voice in the room encouraging her to act, it seems to be an event with purpose. The 'monster' is also surprised when the girl begins cutting him up.

question: Explain the point of the story...

answer: This seems to be a story of revenge, though there is no true ending to it, we can see that the writer has taken particular joy in describing the kind of torture the girl wants to employ, mostly based around the hands. The story seems to be a sort of cathartic revenge piece.

question: Is the story complete?

answer: There are brackets indicating parts of the story have yet to be written.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: A girl recounts the time she was in a room with the monster who molested her in the past. She is given the implements to torture him and she does so.


text:
Public concern about mass government surveillance of the internet has grown ever since Edward Snowden exposed the incredible scale and scope of the NSA’s spying operations to the world. It has since become popular among internet services that handle sensitive data, or which are intended to protect users’ privacy (such as VPN services), to issue  warrant canaries. These are intended to reassure customers that the service has not been compromised by the government and served a gag order.

In the United States, any company can be issued with a secret government subpoena or national security letter (NSA). This forces them to hand over all data pertaining to either a named customer, or even to comply with a blanket order to hand over information on all customers. The company may also be required to start keeping logs of users’ new activity, even if it would not otherwise do so.

Such subpoenas or NSLs are typically accompanied by a gag order, which prevents the company (or any of its staff), under threat of serious legal consequences (as time in jail), from disclosing the existence of the subpoena or NSL to its customers. Most other countries have similar laws.

Perhaps the most infamous case involving such a gag order is that of Lavabit. In 2013 this secure webmail company was subpoenaed (with gag order) to hand over the SSL private keys of all 400,000+ customers to the NSA in order to spy on Edward Snowden (who was believed to have used the service).

Owner Levi Levinson chose not to comply, and immediately closed down his company in order to protect the privacy of its users. He was later convicted of contempt of court.

What are warrant canaries?

A warrant canary is a regularly updated statement by a company that it has not been compromised and served a gag order. If a warrant canary is not updated at regular intervals (usually to a set schedule) then users should assume that the service has been compromised.

VPN outfit iPredator , for example, publishes a warrant canary “at least quarterly,” which states that,

“_IPredator has not received any National Security Letters or FISA court orders, or has been silenced by similar (il)legal and anti-democratic law tools._”

This statement is signed with a PGP key intended to verify its authenticity.

Warrant Canaries work on the notion that a government can legally silence an individual, but that it cannot force them to tell a lie (i.e. to falsely update the warrant canary).  In the US it is argued that the First Amendment protects against compelled speech. As the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) notes,

“_While the government may be able to compel silence through a gag order, it may not be able to compel an ISP to lie by falsely stating that it has not received legal process when in fact it has._”

The idea of warrant canaries has been championed by the EFF, which operates Canary Watch, a website dedicated to monitoring whether companies allow their warrant canaries to lapse.

Can a warrant canary be trusted?

On the face of it, warrant canaries sound like a good idea. Many are not convinced, however, arguing that warrant canaries are little more that puff and smoke advertising with little to no real substance.

1. FIRST AMENDMENT PROTECTION FOR THE USE OF WARRANT CANARIES IS PURELY CONJECTURAL – it has never been tested in a court of law. It is _very_ possible that a US court would rule that failure to update a warrant canary constitutes contempt of the legal requirement placed on an individual.

This is even more true outside the US, where people do not enjoy the explicit Constitutional rights afforded to US citizens. Australia is the first country to explicitly outlaw the use of warrant canaries, and other countries (such as the UK) are likely to follow soon.

2. A WEBSITE CAN BE EASILY BE TAKEN OVER BY A GOVERNMENT AND FALSE UPDATES GIVEN. Securing a warrant canary with a PGP key is intended to protect against this, but a) how many people actually check these PGP keys?, and b) if a company owner can be compelled to compromise his or her service, they can also be compelled (or bribed) to hand over their PGP keys.

As Brett Max Kaufman, a lawyer at the American Civil Liberties Union, told the BBC,

“_If the government asked a company to leave its warrant canary up (and therefore communicate something false to the public), the company would have the right to challenge any gag (under the First Amendment... or under certain provisions of the USA Freedom Act) in court. But if a court upheld the government's request... the public would be none the wiser, at least for some time. Indeed, that would be the entire objective from the government's perspective._"

An individual who was quick enough _might_ be able to destroy all copies of their PGP key (which will be stored in a variety of places so it that can be verified) before being forced to hand it over. This would allow an eagle-eyed observer to notice the missing signature if the company is forced to keep updating its warrant canary. There is still no way, however, for customers to know whether or not a key has _not_ been destroyed.

Secure web storage firm SpiderOak makes a brave attempt to address this problem by having its warrant canary digitally signed by 3 different high ranking individuals within the company (who are _presumably_ located in different geographical locations). This would certainly make coercing (or bribing) all signers more difficult (or expensive), but provides no cast-iron guarantees that this is the case and that they can all be trusted.

3. EVEN WHEN WARRANT CANARIES ARE “TRIGGERED” (I.E. THEY ARE NOT UPDATED IN A TIMELY MANNER), THIS IS OFTEN IGNORED. A good example is Apple, which in 2014 removed its warrant canary from its latest transparency report. Despite this, it was widely argued that the removal probably did not mean that Apple had been forced to hand over data following secret government orders. This may or may not be true, but whatever the case, the incident was quickly forgotten and customers carried on trusting Apple as usual.

Another example is the missing warrant canary in Reddit’s 2015 transparency report. Despite some initial concern among a small subsection of Redditors, business on the Reddit forums has also since continued as usual.

_What, then, is the point of having a warrant canary, if its disappearance causes no alarm!?_

Conclusion

Warrant canaries are a flawed idea that serve mainly as promotional fluff for companies keen to display their privacy-friendly credentials.

The fact that even when warrant canaries _are_ triggered, this is routinely ignored (presumably because acting on the trigger is inconvenient for users) only serves to further undermine what little confidence we can have in such a measure.

question: What is the name of the man who exposed the scale and scope of NSA spying operations in the United States?

answer: Edward Snowden.

question: What kind of subpoena does the government serve to companies to compel them to hand over their data?

answer: A secret suppoena.

question: How useful are warrant canaries?

answer: They are quite useful, but cannot fully protect consumers, especially if it is not updated regularly.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer:
Ever since Edward Snowden revealed the scope of the surveillance the United States citizens are under, there has been a growing world awareness about how governments spy on their citizens.

The United States has long spied on its citizens, doing so by serving secret subpoenas and gag order to data companies.

Many internet companies can, however, get around this by issuing a warrant canary that tries to inform its customers of their services' security status.


text:
-   Published

    Aug 16, 2018, 5:00 am SGT

In a world where many people cannot afford housing in big cities, Singapore prides itself as a nation where 90 per cent of its population are home owners.

The Housing Board's 99-year contract is that between a lessor and a lessee.

The lessee owns the rights to the property for 99 years - that is ownership, and it is not a lie.

However, real estate agent Ku Swee Yong failed to mention that this same lease decay applies to 99-year lease private properties too (Outdated ideas on home ownership and land shortage are crippling us; Aug 14).

For that matter, you could also call a 999-year lease, a lease.

What is the purpose in trying to convince the people that the HDB and the Government have been lying to every citizen about their flat ownership, when it would cause only unhappiness, disillusion and more time wasted in a negative discourse without positive outcomes?

Again, everyone knew about the 99-year lease when they bought their flats.

  TRYING TO PERSUADE A NATION'S POPULATION THAT THEY DO NOT ACTUALLY OWN THEIR FLATS BUT ARE SIMPLY RENTERS CAN MAKE PEOPLE HAVE A MUCH LESSER SENSE OF BELONGING TO THEIR COUNTRY.

However, changing the word from "owner" to "tenant" will affect the entire psychology of Singaporeans who are proud home owners.

Trying to persuade a nation's population that they do not actually own their flats but are simply renters can make people have a much lesser sense of belonging to their country.

We all know that land rights start with an inalienable sovereign right, and the land ultimately belongs to the state.

Even freehold rights to land are subject to acquisition or land taxes.

Mr Ku's point was to remind people that as the lease gets shorter, its value diminishes to zero.

That is an important message.

But to change the word from "owner" to "tenant" is not good for Singapore's psychological defence.

JACK SIM

question: What percentage of people in Singapore are home owners?

answer: 90% of Singapore's population are home owners.

question: What does the author claim will happen if the government convinces its population that they do not own their flats?

answer: The author claims that if people do not think they own their flats that they will have a lesser sense of belonging to their country.

question: Are freehold rights subject to land taxes?

answer: Yes, freehold rights are subject to land taxes.

question: What lease does the Housing Board offer?

answer: The Housing Board offers a 99-year lease.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The author claims that Singapore is trying to convince its population that they do not own their homes, and claims that doing so lessens people's sense of belonging to their country.


text:
** Pretense **

I'm no good at writing full stories. I've come to realize that I'm only good with snippets of a story. Little scenes. I don't know why my mind works the way it does, but sometimes I find that I just need to write these snippets down because I feel like... if I collected enough, maybe they'd make up a story of some sort. Anyways, I haven't found a place to put them and I wanted to share them where people would actually read them. Here's my second one (first post though).

*****

*Fingers*

They sat across from each other in the dimly lit room. With his head down, he took her left hand in his and thoughtfully grazed his thumb over her fingers, brushing the ring on her middle finger.

“You don’t have room in your life for me.”

She looked at him quizzically. He had changed in the short period of time they had come to know each other. When she first met him, she thought him wild and free. He seemed to be a breath of fresh air, come to sweep her away from her steadfast life. But there he sat, hunched over on the leather armchair with his slender arms outstretched towards her and his long fingers wrapped around her hand.

A smile grew on her face.

“Let me show you something.”

She lifted her left hand out of his and slowly worked the ring off her middle finger. He looked at her gentle face with confusion as she slipped the ring onto the middle finger of her other hand.

“There. Enough room?”

title: Fingers.

question: What is the relationship between the two characters?

answer: It seems they are a new couple.

question: Are they breaking up?

answer: No.

question: Are they on a date?

answer: The information is not found.

question: Why is the story called "Fingers"?

answer: The author uses their fingers as part of a metaphor.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: A young couple is having a discussion about how they fit into each other's lives.


text:
This is a repost with (hopefully) fixed formatting. My previous upload ended up doing some strange things with regard to text wrapping. Here's hoping it works this time. Thanks again for reading!

Just south of a small mountain range, a cool spring breeze passed through a stone monastery. The overgrown ivy covering the northern face of the building danced as the wind tickled its bountiful growth. From the top of the smooth cut stone structure the ivy had crept to meet the rocky cliff face upon which the monastery was perched. Green ivy, grey rock, and beige stone lay against a backdrop of deep, clear blue, as the sky was brimming with colour at the onset of the new season. The monastery was a large, square compound, with four stone parapets at each corner of the building, the northernmost being flush against the cliff face. At the centre was a circular courtyard, filled with beds of flowers and shrubs around the perimeter of the courtyard. Forming this perimeter were a series of stone pillars, the bases of which were buried beneath the lush green of the plants. Atop one of the pillars was a nest of sparrows, and the birds fluttered around the courtyard, singing cheerfully.
	That friendly mountain breeze made its way into the courtyard, towards a simple wooden bench that faced the mild warmth of the afternoon sun. It brushed aside the hem of a white robe, cooling the ankles of the monk sitting alone on the bench. He was an old man, whose ample belly was poorly disguised by his simple clothes, yet his face had retained its youthful glow, enhanced by his bald pate gleaming in the sunlight. His eyes squinted against the sun as he smiled contentedly, listening to the sparrows’ concert and taking in the fresh growth of greenery. His smile widened as he heard the faint clapping of sandaled feet on stone tiles. The dim sound grew in resonance as the footsteps approached, and from his seat on the bench the monk called out cheerfully,
	“Good afternoon, Brother,”
	The newcomer emerged from within the monastery, coming into view, similarly clothed in a white habit, yet a bit younger than his colleague. Unlike the seated monk, he was quite thin, and though he was not smiling, he had an honest, open face.
	“May I join you?”
	“Of course! Please sit.”
	The slender monk then held up the jug and two cups he had been holding, and smiled faintly, to which the older monk laughed and patted him on the shoulder as he lowered himself onto the bench.
	“I suppose it is never too early to celebrate such a fine day” he said.
  	The second man carefully poured a cup of red wine, and passed it to his companion, after which he poured himself a cup. For several minutes they both sat in silence, sipping their wine and admiring the courtyard and its garden. Finally, the thinner monk placed his cup on the ground next to the jug of wine, and fixed his gaze on the heavyset monk.
	“The vote is tomorrow, the monastery is in a furor, it is quite a nuisance.”
	The older monk chuckled and returned the look, “I have been through many such votes, and this is by far the most tiresome of them all.”
	Not known for outbursts of laughter, the younger monk gave a hearty grin, flashing what teeth he had left before remarking, “We are priests, not politicians, my friend. I should say this is ill befitting our station. Such ambition is better left to the less morally inclined.”
	In response his companion simply smiled, looked down at his cup, and took a sip, his light grey eyes surveying the wine like a hawk watched a rabbit. The younger man likewise took a sip, his eyes watching his friend as he swallowed the warm red liquid.
	“Brother,” he said, smiling, “I’m afraid you’ve besmirched your habit.”
	The larger monk stared at him, watching his eyes and his smug expression as he slowly reached his arm towards his friend’s throat, only to gently place his slender finger upon a red stain at the collar of the robe. The culprit was not hidden, as a line of red was visible on the large monk’s cup from where the wine had spilled.
	Breaking eye contact and looking down at his lap, the bald man laughed, tut-tutting to himself, “That won’t do at all,” he said.
	“Yes,” his friend said slowly, looking at the patch of red, “that stain must be removed.”
	“Or perhaps, I could simply find a way to hide it,” he said as he watched the thin man, “with so many habits and so many monks, I’m sure there are more than a few concealed stains amongst our ranks.”
	The skinny monk’s face bore an expression of sincere contemplation as his eyes bored into the large monk’s robe, “Perhaps,” he said.
	He reached down to collect the jug and his own cup, rising from the bench. His robe had gone into disarray, and he quietly adjusted it before turning back towards the older monk. They shared a warm smile as each stared at the other, with the hefty monk raising his cup in front of his sharp grey eyes as he said through grinning teeth, “My thanks, for the drink, Brother.”
	The thin man nodded to him, and headed for the interior of the monastery, his sandals playing the same song against the stone that they had when he approached, only this time in reverse. As the song faded to nothing, the solitary monk once more perked his eyes and ears toward the chattering sparrows.
	The sun was still out, the sky was still blue, the garden was still radiant, and the birds still sang. As he finished his wine, the monk contemplated the one thing he knew with certainty on that beautiful day. For himself, or the man who just left, there would be no sun, no sky, no garden, no birds, no wine, waiting for them tomorrow. Only death. He decided then that he had not yet had his fill of such marvelous spring days.
	“Now then,” he said, laboriously rising from the bench, “I suppose I should see about removing this stain.”

title: [FN] The White Habit

question: What does the story say about drinking wine?

answer: The two monks portrayed in the story both enjoy drinking it. However, it seems that they need to hide their habit. They suspect more monks share their habit.

question: What does the story say about bravery?


text:
_BORNEANAPIS_ is a genus of Indonesian araneomorph spiders in the family Anapidae, containing the single species, _BORNEANAPIS BELALONG_. It was first described by R. Snazell in 2009,[1] and has only been found in Indonesia.[2]

[1]

[2]

title: Borneanapis

question: What are Borneanapis?

answer: Borneanapis is a genus of Indonesian araneomorph spiders.

question: Who described Borneanapis first?

answer: R. Snazell described Borneanapis first in 2009.

question: Where is Borneanapis found?

answer: Borneanapis is found only in Indonesia.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: Borneanapis is a species of araneomorph spiders that are native to Indonesia. The species was first described by R. Snazell in 2009.


text:
Lieutenant General EDMUND FIELDING (1676 – 20 June 1741) was a British Army officer.

Military career

Born the son of John Fielding, canon of Salisbury, Fielding served under John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough during the War of the Spanish Succession.[1] He raised the 41st (Welch) Regiment of Foot from independent companies of invalids in 1719.[2] He was promoted to brigadier in 1727,[3] major-general in 1735 and to lieutenant-general in 1739.[4] He married Sarah Gould and they had two sons, Henry Fielding, who became an English novelist and dramatist, and Edmund Fielding, who served as an officer in the Royal Navy, and four daughters including the writer Sarah Fielding.[5]

[1] Nichols, p. 356

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

title: Edmund Fielding

question: Who was Edmund Fielding?

answer: Lieutenant General in the British Army.

question: Who did Fielding serve under?

answer: Under John Churchill.

question: Who was John Churchill?

answer: 1st Duke of Marlborough during the War of the Spanish Succession.

question: When did Edmund Fielding die?

answer: June 20, 1741

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Edmund Fielding was Lieutenant General in the British Army and served in the early 18th century under John Churchill.


text:
_ORDERED TO DIE: A HISTORY OF THE OTTOMAN ARMY IN THE FIRST WORLD WAR_ is an account of the Ottoman Empire's military engagements in World War I (specifically the Middle Eastern theatre of World War I), fought between the Allies (led by Britain and Russia) and the Central Powers.[1] It was written by Edward J. Erickson. It was divided into seven sections beginning prewar military issues.

Synopsis

Erickson relies heavily on non-published official histories that were not open to non-Turkish historian in the Ottoman Archives until the late 1980s and Turkish general staff archives, which have very limited access as of 2008. He also uses a limited number of Ottoman Turkish documents. Erickson's book is mostly on the strategic and operational level of the Ottoman Army. The book describes the tactics, social issues and the humanitarian dimensions of the Ottoman Army's engagements.

_Ordered to die_ presents sets of data on subjects such as the Ottoman army organisation, the structure of the General Staff and headquarters, German military assistance and Ottoman casualty figures.

The overall conclusion is that the Ottoman army’s record in World War I was an astounding achievement. The book says it was a “saga of fortitude and resilience”.

Critical reviews

Erik-Jan Zürcher

Erik-Jan Zürcher argues that _Ordered to die_ is nicely presented, with useful tables and a number of photographs, but he concludes that _Ordered to die_ is a book with a clear but limited purpose.[2] He states that the book presents a purely military history of the Ottoman war effort in the English language, where histories of this type have so far only been available in French or Turkish.

[1] Google Books

[2] Review Article by Erik-Jan Zürcher (pdf)

title: Ordered to Die

question: What is the book's title?

answer: Ordered to Die: A History of the Ottoman Army in the First World War.

question: What is the book all about?

answer: It is an account of the Ottoman Empire's military engagements in World War I (specifically the Middle Eastern theatre), fought between the Allies (led by Britain and Russia) and the Central Powers.

question: Who wrote the book?

answer: Edward J. Erickson

question: Where did Erickson source his material for the book?

answer: He relies heavily on non-published official histories that were not open to non-Turkish historians in the Ottoman Archives until the late 1980s and Turkish general staff archives, which have very limited access as of 2008. He also uses a limited number of Ottoman Turkish documents. Erickson's book is mostly on the strategic and operational level of the Ottoman Army.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Ordered to Die: A History of the Ottoman Army in the First World War is an account of the Ottoman Empire's military engagements in World War I (specifically the Middle Eastern theatre), fought between the Allies (led by Britain and Russia) and the Central Powers. It was written by Edward J. Erickson and includes sets of data on subjects such as the Ottoman army organization, the structure of the General Staff and headquarters, German military assistance, and Ottoman casualty figures. The book draws heavily from non-published official histories in the Ottoman Archives and Turkish general staff archives, as well as Ottoman Turkish documents.


text:
We've written about the recent incident with Brandeis reversing its invitation for Ayaan Hirsi Ali to speak and receive an honorary degree.

We've also written about how Brandeis reluctantly broke off relations with Al Quds University after the latter sponsored fascist-style pro-terrorist rallies on their campus, and how they are now trying to re-establish those same relations.

By any yardstick, a Nazi-style rally and a rally that celebrates terror is far more offensive than saying negative things about Islam.

In other words, to Brandeis, politically incorrect speech about Muslims is absolutely forbidden, while far more offensive speech and actions by Muslims or Arabs is swept under the rug when it is even acknowledged at all. They are intolerant towards some kinds of speech and very, very tolerant towards others.

This is not only about Brandeis. This year's blood libel in Arab media is not unique; last year I revealed a very similar article on the website of a Palestinian NGO Miftah. Miftah, it will be recalled, gets funding from many European governments and NGOs.

How did these NGOs react to the revelation that they were funding pure hate, the most offensive and libelous accusation anyone can say against Jews?

They hemmed and hawed and got Miftah to issue an obviously insincere apology and then everything was just fine again. Funding continued unabated and everyone was relieved that they could put this episode behind them.

The worst part is that these tepid reactions by Brandeis and the EU towards explicit Arab hate are MORE SEVERE than the reactions of Western "human rights" activists to most Arab hate and antisemitism!

  -------------------------------
  []
  Don't take it so personally!
  -------------------------------

As I've noted in the past, while Human Rights Watch and Amnesty are on the record as saying that antisemitism is a human rights issue, that is only when the antisemitism is from the right. Leftist and Arab antisemitism is roundly ignored, even when a petition is presented to them withthousands of signaturesdemanding that they be consistent in their positions.

For most of the world, extremist Arab hate is tolerated. At best, it is downplayed, at worst it is ignored. Yet these same people have zero tolerance for a true human rights activist like Ayaan Hirsi Ali.

This is why I am so upset over an Egyptian woman's magazine that publishes pure bigotry and filth. I don't want it to be treated as just one of those things. It is the most offensive article I've seen in any media in a long time, and that's saying something.

And NOT ONE SO CALLED "LIBERAL" GROUP OR "HUMAN RIGHTS" ACTIVIST GIVES A DAMN.

 []

question: What does the author say is forbidden at Brandeis?

answer: Speech about Muslims.

question: What is the biggest issue the author is concerned with?

answer: Antisemitism on the Left.

question: What does the author compare the Muslim gathering to?

answer: A Nazi rally.

question: Who was invited to speak and receive an honorary degree from Brandeis, before it was reversed?

answer: Ayaan Hirsi Ali.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: The article is about a rally that the author found to be antisemitic to do with the rights of Arab peoples and Palestinians.