split: train

text:
The 2009 PARIS–ROUBAIX was the 107th running of the Paris–Roubaix single-day cycling race, often known as the _Hell of the North_. It was held on 12 April 2009 over a distance of . The race was won by Tom Boonen, who won his third Paris–Roubaix (2005, 2008, 2009).[1] Boonen finished the race alone, seconds ahead of Filippo Pozzato. Thor Hushovd arrived third, to round out the podium. The race was the eighth event in the inaugural UCI World Ranking series.

Key Moments

Nearly all of the riders featured in the top ten endured at least a minor crash.

A group of eleven riders formed the early breakaway, but was caught again with still about 60 kilometres to go. Six riders then eventually broke away from the rest of the peloton: Tom Boonen, Juan Antonio Flecha, Leif Hoste, Thor Hushovd, Filippo Pozzato and Johan Van Summeren.

At Carrefour de l'arbre, about 15 kilometres from the finish, Flecha crashed and took Hoste with him in his fall. Van Summeren and Pozzato were held back which allowed Boonen and Hushovd to break away. However, just a few hundred metres further, Hushovd also crashed and Boonen continued on his own. Pozzato came to within 10 seconds but never managed to close the gap, allowing Boonen to win.[2]

During the race an official motorcycle crashed into the supporting crowd injuring sixteen people, four seriously. Three of the injured were flown by helicopter to hospitals in northern France.[3]

Results

           Cyclist   Team   Time
  -------- --------- ------ -----------
  1                         6h 15'54"
  2                         + 47"
  3                         + 1'17"
  DSQ[5]                    + 1'17"
  4                         + 1'22"
  5                         + 2'14"
  6                         + 3'13"
  7                         + 3'15"
  8                         + 5'00"
  9                         + 5'29"
  10                        + 5'29"

  : Results (1–10)[4]

The cobblestones

  Section   Kilometers   Place                                 Length (km)
  --------- ------------ ------------------------------------- -------------
  28        98           Troisvilles > Inchy                   2.2
  27        104.5        Viesly > Quiévy                       1.8
  26        107          Quiévy > Saint-Python                 3.7
  25        112          Saint-Python                          1.5
  24        119.5        Vertain > Saint-Martin-sur-Écaillon   1.9
  23        126.5        Capelle-sur-Écaillon> Le-Bruat        1.7
  22        138.5        Verchain-Maugré > Quérénaing          1.6
  21        141.5        Quérénaing > Maing                    2.5
  20        144.5        Maing > Monchaux-sur-Écaillon         1.6
  19        156          Haveluy > Wallers                     2.5
  18        164          _TROUÉE D'ARENBERG_                   2.5
  17        170.5        Wallers > Hélesmes                    1.6
  16        177          Hornaing > Wandignies-Hamage          3.7
  15        184.5        Warlaing > Brillon                    2.4
  14        188          Tilloy > Sars-et-Rosières             2.4
  13        194.5        Beuvry-la-forêt > Orchies             1.4
  12        199.5        Orchies                               1.7
  11        205.5        Auchy-lez-Orchies > Bersée            1.2
  10        211          Mons-en-Pévèle                        3
  9         217          Mérignes > Pont-à-Marcq               0.7
  8         220          Pont-Thibaut > Ennevelin              1.4
  7         225.5        Templeuve > L'Épinette                0.2
  7         226          Templeuve > Moulin-de-Vertain         0.5
  6         232.5        Cysoing > Bourghelles                 1.3
  6         235          Bourghelles > Wannehain               1.1
  5         239.5        Camphin-en-Pévèle                     1.8
  4         242.5        _CARREFOUR DE L'ARBRE_                2.1
  3         244.5        Gruson                                1.1
  2         251.5        Hem                                   1.4
  1         258          Roubaix                               0.3

Pre-Race favorites

Favorites included 2008 winner Tom Boonen, teammate and Tour of Flanders winner Stijn Devolder, Garmin-Slipstream's Martijn Maaskant, and 2006 winner, Fabian Cancellara.[6]

[1] Other three time winners include Octave Lapize (1909, 1910, 1911), Gaston Rebry (1931, 1934, 1935), Rik Van Looy (1961, 1962, 1965), Eddy Merckx (1968, 1970, 1973), Francesco Moser (1978, 1979, 1980), Johan Museeuw (1996, 2000, 2002). The all-time winningest is four time winner Roger De Vlaeminck (1972, 1974, 1975, 1977)

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

title: 2009 Paris–Roubaix

question: What was the 2009 Paris–Roubaix?

answer: The 107th running of the Paris-Roubaix single-day cycling race.

question: What was the Paris-Roubaix often known as?

answer: the Hell of the North

question: Who won the race?

answer: Tom Boonen won the race for the third time.

question: Who had at least a minor crash?

answer: Nearly all of the riders featured in the top ten.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The 2009 Paris–Roubaix was the 107th running of the cycling race and nearly all of the riders featured in the top ten endured a minor crash. Tom Boonen won the race for the third time.


text:
NANJANAPURAM is a Village Panchayat located in Erode district, in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu. This Village Panchayat is located in the periphery of Erode Municipal Corporation. Nanjanapuram village falls under Erode taluk, located off State Highway 96 (Tamil Nadu).

Demographics

census, Nanjanapuram village had a total population of 1,897 with 960 males and 937 females. Out of the total population 171 are under 6 years of age. Nanjanapuram has a literacy rate of 88.85% which is lower than TamilNadu average.[1]

[1]

title: Nanjanapuram

question: What is Nanjanapuram?

answer: A village Panchayat in Tamil Nadu, India.

question: Where is it located?

answer: In the periphery of Erode Municipal Corporation.

question: What is its population?

answer: 1,897 individuals.

question: What is its literacy rate?

answer: 88.85%, lower than the Tamil Nadu average.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Nanjanapuram is a village Panchayat in Tamil Nadu, India. It is located in the periphery of Erode Municipal Corporation, off State Highway 96. It has a population of 1,897 with a literacy rate of 88.85%.


text:
The fragrance of wild onions, sage, and fresh peeled carrots lingered in the air.  Mixed with a rabbit from one of the traps, dinner and dessert was bound to be delicious.  It was not often she could afford to offer dessert with a meal.  Her son would be home shortly, as the sun had set and the stars had taken their place in the sky.  Technically, her son was Graham the Fifth, named after his predecessors.  His father had joined his father before Graham was born, but still she named him according to tradition, in honor and memory of the Grahams that came before them.  This particular Graham was smarter than the last, if not a little more scrawny.  Nothing a full meal with a large serving of dessert couldn't remedy, she mused.

Amidst a flurry of cold and darkness, Graham stepped through the doorway, wet from the snow and chilled from the wind.  Naturally, Margery was older than Graham, but if looks were any indication it was by only a few years.  Even Graham would have had to remark how attractive his mother was.  It would be good to find a wife with such skill at housekeeping and just as pretty as well.

Graham slipped onto the stool with a sigh, heaving the satchel of goods onto the floor beside him.  With his blond hair and rosy cheeks, his youth was particularly evident as he waited for dinner, anticipating the dessert his mother had promised.  Margery began to serve him, as she had since his birth, and they spoke of his recent journey into the small town from hence he had just arrived.

Stirring the stew with one hand, she emptied the contents of her other into Graham's bowl.  The powder was but one of the steps she must take to regain her love and her youth.  Having but sipped his stew, Graham would begin to forget his life.  His daily toils, his meager education but most necessary she found, his family; his mother.

As they talked, Graham sensed something different in the air, a smell may be.  There was definitely hunger in the air as he graciously accepted the stew; it was not often his mother parted with one of her beloved albino rabbits.  In his living memory he could not recall the last time she had parted with one of her pets.  Although she often spoke of how it was his father's favorite dish, as well as his last.

With a belly full of rabbit stew, Graham began to relax, and slowly peel off his travelling clothes.  It had been the first time his mother had let him make the annual trip to Stockport by himself.  The shopkeeper had filled the order readily as always, but would not speak a word to Graham.  To Graham this was not much more peculiar than the years before, but the look on his face was queer when he realized that Graham had made the journey by himself.  Even queerer still was the small meat pie, the shopkeeper's daughter slipped him as he stepped out.  The pie was less than filling but tasty never the less.   Graham headed home, thinking of the daughter and wondering what her name could be.  The only woman Graham had ever known was his mother Margery, but he doubted they would have the same name.

Anticipation began to settle up on him, as he waited for the dessert to finish warming up.  Dessert in their meager household was a luxury never before experienced.  It was his 16th name day that provided the occasion.  Custom held that in the morning, Graham would be a full grown man.  It was for snow berries, a crucial and expensive ingredient for the dessert, which Graham had journeyed to town.

After a while the pie was ready, and Margery and Graham began to feast.  Just as his mother had promised, the dessert did indeed compliment the albino rabbit stew.  Drunk with food, Graham shuffled to his straw mat, to lie down.  He was not used to such rich food, and it began to make him feel strange.  His face became flush with heat, and in response Graham unbuttoned his shirt.  Beginning to perspire, he next unlaced his britches, removing them with a toss towards the corner.

Margery, noticing Graham's agitation began to worry over him, first bringing him a cool cloth for his forehead.  Having bade him lay down; she began to rub his body with a wet towel.  As she soothed him, his vision began to blur.  When this happened, he began to panic until Margery whispered that it would be alright, it was only the dessert and that soon all would be well.   He was reassured by his mother's smile, as he closed his eyes.

As soon as his eyelids descended, Margery took leave of him, and began to undress herself.  Slipping into a small night gown, she dabbed herself with the juice of the snow berries.  Next, she laid out several items on the table.  They would be needed when the sun rose.  But now it was time for dessert.

When she slowly lowered herself into her place on the straw mat beside Graham, he stirred awake.  With a grin on his face he caressed her face.  Who was this woman beside him he wondered.  His grin grew into a smirk, as he realized it didn't matter.  A busty blonde with good hips laying in his bed on his 16th name day, surely his mother had arranged this.  With a dim realization he thought it might be the storekeeper's daughter.

With the lust of youth he ripped his small clothes off and next her gown.  With a before unknown skill, he ravaged the woman, provoking moans from both himself and his lover.  When the life force left him, the heat began to fade, and Graham laid on his back and contentedly slipped into sleep with his arms and legs tangled amongst the woman's.
Margery woke early, and began to prepare for the day.  It was Graham's first day of manhood and things had to be prepared in just a certain way.  She sharpened a knife, as she hummed her favorite tune, and laid the ingredients beside their respective bowls.  It wouldn't hurt to have everything measured and ready for sunrise.

He awoke slowly, opening his eyes to wonder at the fading peculiar dream the dessert had brought.  The woman of his dreams was not to be seen, but his mother was whispering to herself as she fretted over some things on the table.  With the clarity of morning, Graham began to understand what his mother was whispering.  It was a list.  No, not really a list, but steps.  A list of actions he realized as she spoke of cooking the rabbit and the snow berries.

Graham was dismayed when he learned of the powder in his stew, and that it was meant to leave him unable to move; paralyzed.  His thoughts turned to shame and horror when he realized that it was his mother's moans he had induced the evening before.  It was not until she began to detail the next steps, that the terror seized him.  She meant to use the life force she had collected during the night and his blood to sustain her youth.  She needed his blood, all of it, and only the blood of a living relative infused with the pain and fear of death could make the potion powerful enough to work.

Graham realized with a chill that his mother thought him immobilized.  He stared at her as she came back to her place beside him on the mat and began to caress his cheek.  He remained expressionless as she spoke of her first husband Graham, and his untimely death.  It was through this ritual that she kept her lover alive, she explained.  For sixteen years at a time she would wait for one night of dessert.

As she held his cheek she brought the blade to his throat.  With a rage, Graham grasped her wrist.  Startled, Margery was dumbfounded.  This was not meant to be, this was not on the list would be her last murderous thought.  If gasping is fulfilling an action, then it could said it was her last. Graham leaned forward, kissed his lover once more, and connected the knife with Margery's heart.

With a fresh day, and a lifetime of manhood ahead of him, Graham set off for Stockport.  The idea of seeing the storekeeper's daughter again stirred his loins.  He wondered how she had known it was his name day. When Graham finally returned to Stockport, the shopkeeper, obviously pleased with himself, asked if he had enjoyed Helen's gift.

I could live forever, thought Graham as he presented the flowers.

title: The Fifth

question: What is Graham's mother trying to do to him?

answer: Steal his life energy so she can stay young.

question: How many Grahams came before him?

answer: 5, and they were all eaten.

question: What does the last line of the story imply?

answer: That Graham might do the same thing to his new girlfriend his mother tried to do to him.

question: How does Graham escape his mother?

answer: By putting a dagger through her heart.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This story is about a young man named Graham, whose mother tries to steal his life force so she can stay forever young. He kills her and escapes.


text:
My mom tells me I have an affinity for cold weather. I was born on the Winter Solstice, which is the shortest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. Being four days before Christmas, I was raised to only expect one gift for the combination of the holiday and the day of my birth. I think this indirectly led me to be a less wanting individual while also making me more humble.

At the ripe old age of seven I was delivered the information that I had flawed DNA. I was diagnosed with a form of Muscular Dystrophy as well as a heart condition called Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy. Me being fresh out of toddler-hood didn't fully appreciate the magnitude of this discovery. I couldn't figure out why this was the emotional equivalent of a brick to the face for my parents. I remember my thinking that holding my breath during the doctor's examination had somehow ruined the results but as my mother assured me, this was not the case.

Somewhere around my eleventh birthday, my brother and I were called to attention by our parents who informed us that they had fallen out of love and were thusly getting a divorce. This was not unexpected by either of us and after inquiring about living arrangements, the matter as settled. Though I am admittedly guilty of using this for sympathy in my teenage years, it's never really caused me genuine sadness. It is as obvious now as it was then that my parents are two very different individuals. This taught me that however much two people want and try to stay together, it is not guaranteed to work.

About thirteen years into my life I committed credit card fraud. I took my mother's Visa and used it to buy ten dollars worth of trading cards, all of this unbeknownst to her. Of course when the package arrived and I was not the one to claim it, my scheme was rather quickly uncovered. I am not proud of this but I am proud of learning the repercussions of stealing early on. I was restricted from using the internet for a year following this incident. Within this year I discovered a love for reading and writing, prose or otherwise.

September, 2006; I was fifteen and three-quarters. The first day of my sophomore year of high school was also the first day I used a wheelchair full-time. I had no difficulty with it whatsoever. All of my peers were helpful and I enjoyed my classes, IT and Drama most of all. I was prepared to be a social outcast but was never treated that way. I was voted most likely to be a stand-up comedian. Unintended but cruel irony nonetheless. I laugh about it to this day.

I moved to Corona with my best friend in July of 2009 after we had graduated high school. Circumstances disallowed him to stay and I needed a room-mate. My father volunteered and here I am three years later. Through struggling with physical therapy and reading all I can, here I am: a man of value but not one of success.

title: I typed this up for OkCupid and liked how it turned out; six paragraphs

question: When was the narrator born?

answer: During the Winter Solstice.

question: Why is the narrator in a wheelchair?

answer: Information can't be found.

question: Who is the narrator speaking to?

answer: Readers of his OkCupid profile.

question: What are some of the narrator's hobbies?

answer: Information can't be found.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator was born on the Winter Solstice. At a very young age, he was diagnosed with a form of Muscular Dystrophy as well as a heart condition called Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy. On his 11th birthday, his parents got divorced but he was never really remorseful about this.


text:
	There she sat, across the table, with those shadowy pools of mud looking me over. She was a stranger, yet in that dark room, I felt we were one in the same.

	“Let’s play a game shall we?” she said with a sandpapered voice, broken down by countless cigarettes and what sounded like battery acid.  Her familiarity with me was unsettling, like a cold hand on my shoulder.

	“What’s this game called?” I said, inflating my voice beyond capacity.

	“It doesn’t have one.”

	“Well how do you win?”

	“You don’t.”

	“Then why play?”

	“To figure some things out.”

I was more confused than when I entered the room, yet was more comfortable with her.  Her tattered clothes and boots suited her as a dress and heels on a night out in the city.  Her voice even became more pleasing, more like a hum of a record player than channel surfing a sea of static.  She roles two dice over to me.  They cut the heavy silence like a pair of rabid dogs, landing in my lap.

	“What are these symbols?”

	“You tell me, they’re your dice.”

I drop the stones on the table, they come up with a stopwatch and a knife.

	“So who do you want to kill?”

	“I don’t want to kill anyone!” Oh, now this girl knows what they mean? I move to get up, there’s nothing for me here.

	“What are you waiting for?”

	“What do you mean?  I’m waiting for some answers you are not providing.” I move towards the door, maybe I’ll find my answers out there.

	“You are waiting for something that’s going to hurt, aren’t you?”  I felt the weight of my feet plunge into the ground. Shackles around my ankles chained me to the floor, numbing growing up my legs.  “Or are you waiting for something to heal?”  I sit down.

               “Who are you?”

She nods at the dice, willing me to continue this cycle.  A flag and a star.

“You don’t strike me as a patriotic man”

“I’m not.”

“Then what are you so proud of you need to claim so ferverously?”

I took a minute to respond, looking at her, looking at myself.  Not finding anything in my studies.  I’m not really proud of anything, but don’t want to show her that she’s getting anywhere.

“Why aren’t you playing this game?” I said with a snap.

“I am.”

“Why aren’t you answering then?”

“I am. You just aren’t listening.”

“Fine. I’ll listen, now you roll them.” I slam the dice down in front of her, not really understanding my anger fully.  I guess I haven’t felt this vulnerable in a while.  She looks at them, and then up at me with such a piercing glare, the cold numbing has turned to radiant heat.  She picked up the dice and rolled.  The dice seemed to clatter around for an eternity before coming to a peaceful rest.  A telescope and a mirror.

“Oh, so are you supposed to tell me who I am?  Are you supposed to be my tired old subconscious, willing me to find myself?”  The heat of my sarcasm is palpable, as I find myself growing more comfortably into her role, the enforcer.  Her sharp glare softens, as the pools of mud saturate.  She seemed for the first time, at a loss for words, paralyzed.

“I am nothing like you. I am not your cliché subconscious.  I am so distant and disillusioned I can’t care for anything, can’t claim anything to be proud of.  I sit and wait for everyday to end so I don’t feel this numbing anymore.  You haven’t learned anything because you haven’t been listening.  I’m trying to help you.  This game isn’t for winning, but you don’t have to lose either.”

She got up and headed towards the door.  I wanted to say something. I wanted to alleviate her sorrows, tell her things weren’t all that bad.  I didn’t though, wrought with a paralyzing guilt, and stricken with immense sadness.

As she walked out of the threshold, I heard the door close on my cell, cutting me off from the outside world.  As I sit in silence, I hear the faint click of the lock behind me. I smile a slight crack and look down at the dice.  They stare back at me intently, with a glowing presence.  I reach down and grab them for a minute, before laying them down again. I have some questions first, some listening to do.

title: I was bored and decided to write this. Still needs editing, but I'd like your opinion first.

question: What game do the characters play?

answer: They play a dice game. The die have symbols on them: stopwatch, knife, telescope, mirror, star, flag. They play the game to "figure some things out".

question: Who are the characters?

answer: A man and a woman. The man thinks the woman seems to know him. He is feeling vulnerable and angry.

question: What is the relationship between the two playing the game?

answer: It's unsaid; the man seems to be a prisoner.

question: What is the setting of the story?

answer: The story takes place in a jail cell.

question: Write a ~8 sentence summary.

answer: A man and a woman are in a jail cell. She suggests they play a game of dice to "figure some things out." The die have symbols on them: stopwatch, knife, telescope, mirror, star, flag. She rolls the die, and a stopwatch and knife come up. She asks him who he wants to kill. He denies wanting to kill anyone. They roll a few more times; it's unclear the purpose of this game, but he becomes irritated and angry at her. She leaves him in the cell telling him that he hasn't learned anything because he hasn't been listening.


text:
'No.'

I couldn't have thought of a better word to say. 1,200 words a middle class child is exposed to. I probably knew about as many curse words at that point, none quite equal to the weight of anger I willingly held onto. It was so impossibly simple. Just claim the consonant and the vowel. Be done with it. Pack up and go home.

'No.'

The more frustrated I became the more powerful the world felt in my mouth. Why couldn't I just say it? Was I too proud? The entire reason I was in this position was because I didn't say anything. I look down at the cloth in my hand. Damp and dishevelled, I should go into the back and get a fresh one to mess. Or maybe i'll wait until no one is at the counter. There it is again, that fucking word. Why is it when you've been backed into a corner the worst decision is always made?

Maybe this time it'll be different. I hook a stray hair behind my ear.

Deep breaths.

'So you can close up tonight?'

This is it. Just do it. A pulse. An echo. A single beat. This could be the turning point of your very life.

'Yeah, no worries.'

Fuck.

title: Shift

question: Who is the narrator speaking to?

answer: While not explicitly stated, it seems as though the narrator is speaking to a manager or boss of theirs.

question: What situation is the narrator in?

answer: The narrator is being asked to close up whatever store they work in tonight.

question: Why does the narrator want to say no?

answer: Not explicitly stated, but it seems as though the narrator simply does not want to close the store tonight.

question: Why does the narrator end up saying yes?

answer: Not answered

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator's manager asks the narrator to close up the store tonight. While they want to refuse, they end up saying yes.


text:
My father (Walter) married Darcy in 1992 after six months of acquaintance, at the terrifying prospect of dying alone. In 2007 Walter O’Driscoll bought a dog and formed a stronger companionship with it than that of the one with his wife. The dog had anxiety problems and would incessantly vomit regardless of location or time. It was this trait coupled with the purchase of a new entryway rug that drove Mrs. O’Driscoll to get rid of the dog, and it was this that drove Walter to burn down the house with her inside. This story is true.

Walter was 61 years old come September. He worked at a company that sold cleaning products which, yes, is as boring as it sounds. But Walter didn’t mind boring. You see, a belief he’d held onto since he was a teen was that doing boring things is like meditating. And so he did so for nine hours a day. And then he would continue being bored well after he got home until he went to bed (in a separate room from his wife’s), and he would read a boring book, and then dream boring dreams (sometimes of reading boring books), and then wake up and eat (boring) breakfast.

Life was predictable for Walter. One day while reading the paper, he realized he had been living his life in the future; when he was driving to work, he imagined himself already at work, packaging cleaning product, and when he got to work it was exactly what he expected. While he was packaging cleaning product, he was thinking about watching television with his dog. In fact, for an old man with so little future ahead of him, he spent an unusually large amount of time thinking about it.

The only time that Walter wasn’t hyper-aware of his boredom and thinking about the future was when he was sitting in his chair watching TV, his dog in his lap. After a couple episodes of whatever was on television, it ran off to some other part of the house. Walter wasn’t alone in his chair for long when Darcy’s shrill, French voice preceded her entry into the living room.

“That damn dog puked on the cahpet!” she said, each angry word bleeding into the next. She said more things but he turned on the subtitles for the TV and feigned deafness until she stomped off ranting about the poor little dog.

A week later he arrived home from work to Darcy walking briskly out of the house yelling. Her attempts to make herself heard were futile as Walter had the windows up so that all that penetrated the glass were muffled bass notes. He stepped out of the car.

“- Rug again. Get rid of that dog! Get rid of it-” he tuned her out again.

That night he sat in his chair with his dog in his lap, watching whatever on TV. Dinner was boring, just as he expected. In bed, he dreamed of working in the factory.

The next day, he went to work, just as previously described, and worked all day, just as he’d imagined the night before. When he got home, things began to veer off from their normal path. Darcy didn’t come out to meet him in the driveway to complain today. In fact, the house was eerily quiet, although he couldn’t quite place what it was that was so different. When he got to the door, he realized what it was- the dog wasn’t barking. He stepped inside. Darcy was standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips.

“You were taking too long to get rid of the dog so I did.”

He didn’t listen anymore, rather walked to his chair and watched TV.

She complained about other things, but the complaints fell on falsely deaf ears.

That night, instead of going to bed, he stayed up awhile. The orange glow from the lamps throughout the house reflected off the windows making it impossible to see outside. The TV had been off for some time. When Darcy’s cruel snoring came through the walls, he made his way downstairs and dug through little odds and ends until he found a can of mogas. He took it upstairs with him and poured it all through the house, making extra sure to douse the entryway rug, and the area outside her Darcy’s bedroom door, then lit a match and dropped it on the trail.

As he made his way back to his room he reflected on all of his life spent in boredom. He did not regret it, but he was tired now. He could hear the crackling of the flames growing louder and louder, and eventually, the shrill calls of the woman to whom he was married. He entered his bedroom, which was, again, not shared with his wife. Walter pulled his slippers off his feet and lay down in his small bed. The house was getting hotter, and with every second he lay there he became more tired, then he fell asleep.

title: Untitled

question: Who are the main characters in the story?

answer: Walter, and his wife, Darcy, and his dog.

question: What are the major events of the story?

answer: Walter leads a boring life: He wakes up, eats breakfast, goes to work, come back to hearing his wife complain, and watch television with his dog on his lap. He dreams about the next step. One day he comes home and does not hear his dog barking. His wife says that she took care of the dog. That night he burns the house down with himself and her inside.

question: Explain why Walter burnt down the house with his wife inside.

answer: His wife took care of the dog because the dog puked on her new carpet. The dog was Walter's companion while watching television, he was attached to the dog.

question: What led to Walter getting a dog?

answer: No information is given in the text, although it might be the same reason as for marrying - he did not want to be alone.

question: Was Walter married before?

answer: No indication is given in the text, but it does not seem like it.

question: Write a ~5 sentence summary.

answer: Walter leads a boring life: He wakes up, eats boring breakfast, goes to his boring job at the cleaning supplies company, comes back to hear his wife complain about everything but mostly about his dog, and watch television with his dog on his lap. He dreams about the next step, always living life in the future. One day he comes home and does not hear his dog barking. His wife says that she took care of the dog. That night, after watching television, he waits until he hears his wife's snores and he burns the house down with himself and her inside.


text:
I am full of emptiness in their presence and lack thereof.
It didn’t take me long to realize how often existence is taken for granted, and that it is derived from something that is complete. Or completed. Plenty of people are incomplete. They search their whole lives for something, someone to fill some sort of perceptible hole in their world.
	But they have a world, those people. They have a journey, a story.
	God is one clever asshole.
	He had no fear of audacity; he created rampantly, with reckless nuance and disregard for plot. I still don’t know whether the phrase everyone has a story is effete bullshit or something else.
	Does God still create? Or are we all stock characters in the grandly miniscule commedia that is life? If so, there’s only one story that, like an atoning lover, squeals repeatedly in its allusion to deeper meaning that somehow never manages to manifest itself in the moment.
	I’m sorry about that, it’s a problem I have. Any time I try to tell a story it inextricably gets wound up in metaphysical God shit that goes nowhere after the first sentence. It’s either clever or irresponsible, but generally it’s just boring after a while.
	Maybe I just try to escape them—the specters whose existence (and lack thereof) is troubling in that they are dead as an aborted fetus is dead—the spark of life never inhabited or inhibited them. The words that endow them with life, slashed-and-burned like infertile fields with a blade-and-flame-like blinking vertical line.
Indeed, that’s all there will ever be.
No crumpled up pieces of paper surrounding my desk or ink stains or blood.
Which is fitting, I guess, in that that’s all anyone will ever be, really.
The fact that I’m satisfied with that might say a lot about me.

title: Process

question: Is the author a good writer?

answer: It is not clear. They complain about being unsuccessful in writing a story

question: Is writing metaphysics a god thing?

answer: It is not stated. The author thinks that it is either clever or irresponsible, but generally boring.

question: Why does the author think that people are uncompleted?

answer: Because they search their whole lives for something, someone to fill a hole in their world.

question: Has the author ever written the short story?

answer: He has, at least one - this one.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: The author complains about his writing. Every time the author tries to write a story, they write about metaphysical topics that go nowhere after the first sentence.


text:
Took Dad to the doctor’s office this morning. Routine screening. He hasn’t looked good in a while. But he’s just getting older. Granted, he never took care of himself. 6 pack a day, 20 True Green. Bacon. He coughed at night. It kept me up as a child on the stairs. I always cried. Thought he was dying.

I made him pick me up to touch the ceiling. I wanted to be tall. Like him. Turns out, he really loved doing that. I wrote him birthday cards reflecting his encouragement. ‘You can do it, buddy’ made him cry. As I got older, I became embarrassed of him. He was unemployed a bit. Sometime came to soccer games drunk. But he showed up.

His father died at 53. Was his idol. Defining moment of his life. Still cries when speaking of him. That was 1965. He no longer planned. Lived for now. Not the best idea with a wife and 3 kids. I became angry at him. Wouldn’t stop drinking even though we all hated it. Like his father, he would never meet his grandchildren. So selfish. Told him how I felt. So angry. I cried. Nothing changed but I felt relief. Can’t change others. Only accept. I was 20 years old. Defining moment of my life.

Shortly thereafter, I met my wife. Started my career. Moved out. Saw dad less.

My drinking problem surfaced. Then fully submerged. I feared death. Feared life. Noticed I looked more like him. He made more sense. I am just like him. I love him. I forgive him. Truly forgive him. AA helped me do that. Now I see how much love he has to give. He is so beautifully unique. I admire that. He’s taught me so much, good and bad. I love seeing him on Sundays. I love him so much.

I move away. Far, far away. He comes to visit. He has lost weight. A lot of weight. He’s just getting older...

I come home to visit. Dad looks grey. Rest of family notices too. Mom finds blood stained underwear. Confronts Dad. He hates doctors. Killed his parents and want him dead too. Was pissing blood for months. Then not at all. Kidney’s failing. Succumbs to fear, sets up physical. Blood taken. Hour later - emergency room. Your father is very sick. Don’t go too far. I am the little boy on the stairs again.

I feel nothing. I know it’s coming, but I can’t see it. I won’t see it. I’m so scared. I’m not ready for this. The seas are receding, I know it. I feel the pull but can’t look to the horizon. It’s just too much.

The first swell arrives but I have to go back home. To where I live now. To my life. And to my wife. I can ignore it so easily - to my peril. Try as I may, it’s coming.

title: Wrote this story tonight to help me deal with my father's alcoholism and death - and to help me stay sober as well

question: Relief from what?

answer: The author felt relief after telling his dad how he felt and crying.

question: Who can't the author change?

answer: The author can't change his dad's alcoholism and selfishness.

question: Was the drinking problem because of the dad?

answer: Yes. They're alike in more ways than one.

question: What did the dad do that merits forgiveness?

answer: The dad was a selfish alcoholic who didn't have a plan for his family.

question: Write a ~6 sentence summary.

answer:
The author's dad is an alcoholic who doesn't take care of himself, and the author fears his dad was going to die.
Despite all this, he enjoyed and appreciated their time together because his dad was always there for him during soccer games.
When the author was 20 years old, he confronts his dad about his selfishness and alcoholism, but nothing changed.
The author moves out, gets married, and starts a career, but follows in his dad's alcoholic footsteps and needs to seek help from AA.
The author resolves to spend more time with his dad now that the latter is old, sick and really dying.
The author fears the inevitable (death of dad) is coming and he's not ready for it.


text:
GRAND RIVER HOSPITAL is a stop on the Region of Waterloo's Ion rapid transit system.[1] It is located in the median of King Street in Kitchener, between Pine and Mount Hope Streets, just north of its namesake, the KW Site of Grand River Hospital. It opened in 2019.

[_Spinal Column_] The station's feature wall consists of ceramic tiles in a solid hospital-blue. The station also features the artwork _Spinal Column_ by Sandra Dunn about the LRT being the backbone of the local economy.[2]

The primary access to the platform is from the crosswalk at Pine Street; secondary accesses at the west end of the platform, crossing either side of King Street, are marked as emergency exits only.

The station is also near Kitchener-Waterloo Collegiate, a major high school, and the CTV Kitchener studios.

[1]

[2]

title: Grand River Hospital station

question: When did Grand River Hospital Station open?

answer: It opened in 2019.

question: How would you describe the station's interior design?

answer: Grand River Hospital station has a feature wall which consists of ceramic tiles in a solid hospital blue. It also as the artwork, Spinal Column, created by Sandra Dunn.

question: Where is the Grand River Hospital station?

answer: The Grand River Hospital station is a stop on the Region of Waterloo's Ion rapid transit system.

question: What other locations are near the Grand River Hospital Station?

answer: Other locations near this station are Kitchener-Waterloo Collegiate, a major high school, and the CTV Kitchener studios.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: This article describes the design and attractions of the Grand River Hospital station.


text:
What is intelligence? Not exactly the spook kind, but rather what is
the definition of intelligence in humans? This is pretty good:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intelligence#Definitions

By most accounts, the self-appointed and arguably too influential
creators and thinkers of the day around the 'One Linux' idea fit the
definition of intelligent people - at least in the technical realm.

And their messages are pretty compelling:
* Simplify cross-distro development.
* Enable faster boot times.
* Enable an on-demand, event driven architecture, similar to 'Modern'
Operating Systems.
* Bring order and control to subsystems that have had as many different
tools as there were distros.

All seemingly noble goals. All apparently come from a deep desire to
contribute and make things better.

Almost anyone could argue that these intelligent people thought hard
about these issues, and put an enormous amount of effort into a
solution to these problems. Unfortunately, the solution they came up
with, as you may have guessed by now, is 'systemd'.

While not new, it's grotesque impact has finally reached me and I must
speak to it publicly.

So, what is systemd? Well, meet your new God. You may have been praying
at the alter of simplicity, but your religion is being deprecated. It
likely already happened without your knowledge during an upgrade of
your Linux box. systemd is the all knowing, all controlling meta-deity
that sees all and supervises all. It's the new One Master Process that
aspires to control everything it can - and it's already doing a lot.
It's what init would look like if it were a transformer on steroids.
It's complicated, multi-faceted, opaque, and supremely powerful.

I had heard about systemd a few years back, when upstart and some other
init replacements I can't remember were showing up on the scene. And
while it seemed mildly interesting, I was not in favor of using it, nor
any of them for that matter. init was working just fine for me. init
was simple and robust. While configuration had it's distro-specific
differences, it was often these differences that made one pick the
distro to use in the first place, and to stay with that distro. The
tools essentially *were* the distro. I just dist-upgraded to Jessie,
and voila - PID 1 was suddenly systemd. What a clusterfuck.

In a 'One Linux' world, what would distros actually be? Deprecated. No
longer relevant. Archaic shells of their once proud individualism.
Basically, they're now just a logo and a default desktop background
image. Because let's face it, there only needs to be One Modern
'competitor' to the Windows/Mac ownership of personal computing. A
unified front to combat the evil empires of Redmond and Cupertino is
what's needed. The various differences that made up different 'flavors'
of Linux needed to be corralled and brought into compliance for the war
to proceed efficiently. Um, what war?

For me, Linux had already won that war way back in 1994 when I started
using it. It did it without firing a shot or attempting to be just like
the other OSes. It won it it by not giving a flying fuck about market
share. It won it by being exactly NOT them. It won it by being simple
and understandable and configurable to be exactly how *I* wanted it to
be. It won it by being a collection of simple modular components that
could be plugged together at will to do real work. It won it by
adhering to a deeply considered philosophy of the user being in the
drivers seat, and being free to run the things she wanted to, without
layers and layers of frameworks wrapping their tendrils into all manor
of stuff they should not be touching. It won it without the various
'CrapKit' shit that's begun to insinuate itself into the heart of my
system of late. It won it without being overly complex and unknowable.
That kind of opacity was was the core of Windows and Mac, and that's
exactly what I despise about them, and exactly why I chose to use Linux
in the first goddamn place. systemd is embracing *all* that I hate about
Windows and Mac, and doing so in the name of 'modernity' and
'simplifying' a developer's job.

So why would very smart people who love and use Linux want to create or
embrace such a creepy 'Master of All' daemon? Ostensibly, it's for the
reasons they say, as I mentioned at the top. But partially I think it's
from a lack of experience. Not a lack as in programming hours, but a
lack as in time on the Planet. Intelligence alone is not a substitute
for life experience and, yes I'll say it, wisdom. There's no manual for
wisdom. Implementing systemd by distros is not a wise move for them over
the long term. It will, in fact, be their ultimate undoing.

Partially it's the larger-than-life egos of the people involved. Has
anyone actually read what Poettering says about things? Wow. This guy
is obviously convinced he has all the answers for everyone. Traditional
ideas about simplicity and freedom are quaint, but have no real place
in a 'modern' OS. Look, he's just smarter than you, so get over it and
move aside. He knows what's best, and he has it under control. How old
is this guy anyway? 12 or so? He's a fucking tool (IMHO).

Partially it's roiling subsurface commercial interests. Look, We can
make more money selling stuff to Linux users if there were a simpler
distro agnostic way to do that. Fuck choice, they'll like what they get.

Partially it may well be nefarious and shadowy in nature. With One Ring
to rule them all, having access to it sure would be sweet for those
hell-bent on total information awareness. Trust is not real high on my
list of things to give out these days.

Partially it's a belief that the Linux Community must fight against the
hegemony of Windows and Mac - as if the existence of Linux depends upon
the vanquishing of alternatives. Those who think Linux should cater to
idiots and droolers should go back to their Macs and Windoze boxen, and
stop trying to 'fix' Linux. It wasn't fucking broken!

Partially - and this is what I cannot abide - it is a blatant disregard
and disrespect - whether knowingly or not - of the major tenets of
*NIX. It's a thoughtless discarding of, and a trampling on the values
that I personally hold to be true and just, and I am not alone here.
systemd is the exact opposite of what defines *NIX. And I'm not
blathering on about POSIX compliance either. It's the Philosophy stupid.

systemd is a coup. It is a subversive interloper designed to destroy
Linux as we know it, foisted upon us by the snarky
we-know-better-than-you CamelCase crowd. They just don't get it down
deep where it matters. systemd is not pointing in a direction that we
should be going. It does not encourage freedom. It does not encourage
choice. It does not display transparency. It does not embrace
simplicity. It seizes control and forces you to cede it. It makes
applications and major system components depend on it, and they cannot
function without it. It's gaining speed by luring naive or lazy or just
plain clueless developers into the fold with the promise of making
their lives easier. Buying into this way of thinking ignores the
greater dangers that systemd represents.

Debian has always held the line against this kind of thing in the past,
and has always earned my utmost respect and loyalty for their
integrity. Debian's decision here was as a hand forced. Debian has made
a grave and cowardly mistake here, and they need a course correction
immediately. Incorporating systemd was not an intelligent choice, and
certainly not one very well considered. Debian must reject systemd and
its ilk, and restore itself to the values that got Linux to this
point in history, in no small part *led* by Debian. They must loudly and
publicly divorce themselves from GNOME, however painful and upsetting
that may seem in the sort term, and focus on the core values of
simplicity and freedom. Put systemd and it's cabal in non-free where it
belongs if you must. Let the user decide if that's what
they want. Enlightenment is an excellent choice for a default desktop
that does not have the bloated baggage of GNOME. And to the Debian
Leaders - after 20 years of my loyalty and evangelism, you really let
me and all of us down. You need to grow a fucking pair and do the right
thing here and now.

Kick these fucking carpetbaggers to the curb!

Gnome. The Linux Foundation. freedesktop.org, and others. These are all
groups with agendas. These are not those who believe in freedom. They
believe in control and standardization. They believe in sameness. Who
are these people anyway? Who are these self-appointed keepers of the
Linux flame? (subliminal malware reference intended). What are their
true agendas? Who funds these people? Why do they so aggressively want
to change the core of Linux away from it's true philosophy? Let them go
off and create their own 'competitor' to Windows and Mac. If they did,
it would be the same opaque, backdoored, user-tracking bullshit that
Windows and Mac have become. They DO NOT speak for me, and you should
not passively allow them to speak for you either.

systemd is a trojan. systemd is a medusa. systemd is Substance D.
systemd is scary - not just because it's tools suck, or because it's
a massive fucking hairball - but because architecturally it has way
too much concentrated power. We all need to collectively expel it from
our midst because it will own Linux, and by extension us and our
freedoms. systemd will *be* Linux. Sit idly by and ignore this fact at
all of our collective peril.

OneLinux == zero-choice

--
Regards,
Christopher Barry

Random geeky fortune:
BOFH excuse #202:

kernel panic: write-only-memory (/dev/wom0) capacity exceeded.

question: Who wrote this and what kind of person is he/she?

answer: Christopher Barry, who is quite passionate about the fact that Linux should stay as different distros instead of being made uniform by systemd.

question: What is the deal with systemd?

answer: Roughly, systemd is meant for uniformity across the different distros for ease of development and accessibility for users. For Barry, this was Linux becoming more like its competitors (MS Windows and Apple's Mac OS)

question: Is systemd a bad thing?

answer: Depends on the perspective. According to Christopher, it changes the fundamentals of what Linux is supposed to be and ultimately does not make it any different from the other two platforms. For those who support and developed systemd, it is a way for the Linux platform to compete with the two more mainstream platforms while also providing some improvements through some form of standardization or uniformity.

question: What does the writer propose instead?

answer: Barry wants to maintain the previous state where various Linux distros are uniquely distinct from one another -thus preserving the 'difference' between Linux and Windows/Mac.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: Linux user is unhappy with OneLinux (via systemd) and proposes that it should not be used as it will change what Linux is.


text:
SYED AFSAR MADAD NAQVI (; 10 August 193311 January 1997), was a prominent 20th-century's sculptor. He is best known for his pure realistic monumental sculptures which can be seen in many places around the country (such as Roshan Khan/Jahangir Khan Squash Complex, Fleet Club, Arts Council of Pakistan, Markaz-e-Sadaat-e-Amroha Centre, Hasan Square Karachi, Star Gate Karachi, Quaid-e-Azam International Airport, Village Restaurant, Metropol Hotel etc.). Afsar Madad Naqvi was a master Pakistani sculptor and painter. He was a founder member of the Central Institute of Arts and Crafts Karachi.

[] [] [] []

Early life and education

Afsar Madad Naqvi was born in 1933 at Amroha, India. Diploma and Post-diploma from the Government College of Arts and Crafts, Lucknow, India. Trained under renowned sculptor Mohammad Hanif at Lucknow College of Arts and Crafts in the early 60s.

Career

He was one of the few qualified sculptors who could teach the technique of making life-size armature, simple casting and multiple casting with permanent moulds. He worked with great ease and facility in metals, wood, cement, Plaster of Paris, marble, stone and clay.[1]

He came to Pakistan in 1962 and shortly after that and had a solo show at the Karachi Arts Council Hall, which was also the country's first solo sculpture exhibition. When Mr. Nawabzada Wajid Mehmood founded the Central Institute of Arts and Crafts, he requested him to set up the sculpture studio and he have lived up to this responsibility since then.

Afsar Naqvi was sculptor, traditionalist, loyal friend and affectionate teacher. He had a huge following of artists in Pakistan, most of whom were his students.

His acute observation of detail, timeless dedication to craftsmanship and the innate soul of a master allows him to breathe life into any work of art from delicate pencil sketch to monumental sculptures and that is truly make him one of the world's top artists.[2]

Friend and contemporary to leading artists and literary figures, Afsar Naqvi is a quiet, retiring man and has spent the better part of the last twenty five years teaching sculpture to a generation of artists at the institute. In his work, Sir Naqvi is an exponent of the Eastern idiom. His deep rooted aesthetics of the sub-continental culture bond us to the past. Many art scholar would have us believe that Mughal miniature and folk art are our only heritage when Classical Indian art forms the very core of this region's art history.

He was highly skilled in his craft, his long finger nimbly created small figurines in clay while he carried on with his discussions, as if they had a life of their own. While fame eluded him as a Master Sculptor his skills earned high great respect and his advise was always sought in technical matters, for which he was seldom financially compensated.

Afsar Naqvi's vision and aesthetics was indelibly etched into his own creative expression and his drive to achieve the same level of perfection in his master work.

Biography (by year)

1933 – Born- Amroha, India

1960 – Diploma and Post-diploma- Government College of Arts and Crafts Lucknow, India

1962 – Migration- Pakistan, Karachi

1962 – Joined Central Institute of Art & Crafts, Karachi as Head of Sculpture Department

1963 – Solo Exhibition- Arts Council of Pakistan, Karachi

1969 – Solo Exhibition- Pakistan American Cultural Centre (P.A.C.C.)

1971 – Solo Exhibition- Indus Gallery, Karachi

1975 – Solo Exhibition- Arts Council of Pakistan, Karachi

1985 – Group Exhibition- The Fifth National Arts Exhibition, Idara Saqafat -e- Pakistan

1992 – Joined North City School of Art & Architecture, Karachi as Principle and Head of Fine Art (Sculpture) Department

1995 – Founded Bhittai Institute of Art & Crafts

1997 – Death

1997 – Solo Exhibition – A tribute to Afsar Madad Naqvi, Arts Council of Pakistan, Karachi

Specialization

Specialized in portraiture, mural work, and terra-cotta. He has done lot of masterpiece sculptures in wood, metal, plaster, cement and terra-cotta. Indian Classical sculpture, Naqvi's ability to be able to capture in wood, stone or metal the essence of a narrative moment with a dramatic naturalistic realism.

Notes

[1] Amroha Society Pakistan,

[2] Syed Hasan Naqvi, http://afsarnaqvi.wordpress.com/

title: Afsar Madad Naqvi

question: What is Syed Afsar Madad Naqvi's educational background?

answer: In 1960 Naqvi gained his diploma from the Government College of Arts and Crafts Lucknow, India where he trained under Mohammad Hanif. He then joined the North City School of Art & Architecture, Karachi as Principle and Head of Fine Art.

question: What made Naqvi's art so unique?

answer: Naqvi was a prominent 20th Century sculptor who worked with many different materials. His acute attention to detail allowed him to breathe life into his art. He would carry on discussions while nimbly forming small figurines and his vision and aesthetics were etched into his creative expression, lending itself to capturing the essence of a narrative with dramatic and naturalistic realism.

question: Why did Naqvi never achieve fame?

question: Why was Naqvi respected by his community?

answer: Naqvi impacted on many lives as both an artist and an educator. He was considered in his community to be a master sculptor and his monumental sculptures can be seen around much of Pakistan. He was also a founding member of the Central Institute of Arts and Crafts in Karachi. He was known as a loyal friend and affectionate teacher who had a large following of artists and students in Pakistan.


text:
By Diane Regas

China has announced the launch of a national emissions trading system that will become the world's largest and most consequential environmental program, fulfilling a commitment of President Xi Jinping and setting up China to meet or even exceed its commitment to the Paris climate agreement.

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

The nation is moving deliberately, gradually phasing in and ramping up this carbon market, a proven way to limit and reduce climate pollution. It's expected to eventually be 10 times larger than the successful emissions trading system in California, which took more than six years to develop and launch.

China is stepping into a leadership void after the Trump administration decided to withdraw the U.S. from the Paris climate accord. There is still much to be done in the coming months to ensure China's program succeeds, including synchronizing it with other needed policies. But if it does, it could position the country of 1.4 billion to exceed its goals—and bring the rest of the world along.

When the first phase of the system is fully implemented, it's expected to cover 3.5 billion metric tons of carbon pollution from more than 1,700 companies in the power sector. That is roughly 39 percent of China's total emissions, making it the largest carbon market in the world.

Here are five things you should know about China's market, and why it's such a huge deal for our climate.

1. CHINA IS MOTIVATED

China's current Five-Year Plan, which guides the country's economic and social development between 2016 and 2020, specifically calls for this carbon market. It also sets new targets for carbon and energy intensity for the economy—as well as the first-ever targets for total energy consumption.

By planning for moderate economic growth and by shifting the economy away from heavy industry—while at the same time capping greenhouse gases—China may, in fact, be able to peak emissions well ahead of its 2030 goal if it continues to ramp up these efforts.

The country is also motivated by a crippling air pollution problem. In addition to cutting climate pollution, the carbon trading system will reduce particulate matter and other pollutants that contribute to 1.6 million deaths annually.

2. CHINA IS LEARNING FROM EARLIER MARKETS ABROAD

With several large carbon markets already up and running in other countries, China is taking good notes. The nation's leaders understand that safeguards designed to protect market integrity must be in place for the market to perform, something Europe's now-successful market had to learn the hard way.

It must be functional, transparent, efficient and subject to strict oversight. But China also still needs to nail down a host of specific program design elements.

A partial list of the most pressing questions include the geographic scope of the market, which sectors will be covered, how the allocations will be made, the nature of the monitoring and verification system, the role of offsets and the nature of the enforcement mechanisms.

In our effort to support the Chinese government, Environmental Defense Fund (EDF) will continue to offer practical recommendations on how China can harvest the lessons, seize opportunities and overcome challenges associated with the new market—all while slowing energy demand and accelerating the transition to cleaner energy sources.

We bring insights from our decades of work helping to design, implement and evaluate emissions trading systems in the U.S. and the European Union—as well as from our 25-plus years on the ground in China.

By taking advantage of best practices, China will have a leg up as it designs its own, unique market.

3. CHINA'S PILOT MARKETS GAVE NATION A JUMPSTART

China's seven carbon trading pilots, which EDF continues to assist, are in full operation. These markets are already capping more than a billion tons of carbon dioxide in areas covering 250 million people.

Pilot participants have been learning from each other's experiences in anticipation of the national roll-out. The pilots' experiences will help inform the development of an innovative and efficient national system, for example when it comes to guiding government intervention to manage price volatility.

4. CHINA UNDERSTANDS THAT ENFORCEMENT IS KEY

Strengthening enforcement and transparency is critical for building confidence in the market and in the country's ambitious climate goals. That's why EDF has helped train more than 39,000 Chinese environmental enforcement officers in recent years.

We have mounted an accelerated effort on the ground in China. Our mission: to provide technical assistance, analysis, training and support to those who will build, administer and manage the new carbon market.

We are also working with the Chinese government to improve the regulatory enforceability of market regulations

5. CHINA WILL HOLD POLLUTERS ACCOUNTABLE

An effective trading system offers enterprises flexibility on how to comply. It also makes it abundantly clear that violations will result in penalties that make non-compliance cost-prohibitive.

When these signals are clear, financial and environmental objectives come into alignment—prompting industry to minimize fines, invest in reduction measures and monetize green investments.

Our China team is working with Chinese partners to evaluate the effectiveness of penalties under the nation's new environmental law and translate those lessons to the new carbon market.

Notwithstanding the work that remains to be done, we are confident this new mechanism can reduce emissions from the world's most populous nation, delivering on and surpassing its commitments under the Paris climate accord.

China is showing positive action—and the rest of the world is watching.

question: What does China's national emissions trading system do?

answer: The trading system will cover 3.5 billion metric tons of carbon pollution from more than 1700 companies in the power sector.

question: What is China's current Five-Year Plan?

answer: The current Five-Year-Plan calls for this carbon market, and it also sets new targets for carbon and energy intensity for the economy.

question: How many environmental enforcement officers does China have currently?

answer: China currently has 39000 environmental enforcement officers.

question: What will the trading system do about enterprises that do no comply with it?

answer: The trading system ensures that violations will result in penalties that are cost-prohibitive.

question: Write a ~2 sentence summary.

answer: This article details China's launch of a national emissions trading system that will become the world's largest and most consequential environmental program. It's expected to be 10 times larger than the emissions trading system in California.


text:
In a wide-ranging interview with Italian national business newspaper, Il Sole 24 Ore, Pope Francis engages with a variety of issues, including: economics, the environment, migrants, Europe, and peace.

BY CHRISTOPHER WELLS

The interview with _Il Sole 24 Ore_ revolves largely around socio-economic issues, with a strong focus on the common good. Without denying the importance of individual effort, Pope Francis emphasizes that a community can only grow as a whole people; “social life,” he says, “is not constituted by the sum of individualities, but by the growth of a people.”

Real growth in the community

He says that real growth can occur in a community when we “make room to welcome everyone’s collaboration.” Real growth, he continues, is result “of relationships sustained by tenderness and mercy,” rather than an exclusive focus on success that can lead to “exclusions and waste.”

Pope Francis takes the opportunity to clarify what he means by waste: “It is not simply a phenomenon recognized as the action of exploitation and oppression, but a truly new phenomenon.” The action of exclusion doesn’t simply deprive people of power or wealth, but actually rejects them, throws them out, casts them out of society.”

A person-friendly ethics

This, he says, is why we need a “person-friendly ethics,” which he says can become a “strong stimulus for conversion.” This kind of “person-friendly ethics” can help bridge the gap between profit driven, and non-profit enterprises.

The Holy Father explains that behind every economic activity lies a human person, and insists that the human person must be at the centre of how we think of the economy. “It is work that gives dignity to man, not money.” He identifies a focus on money and profit as a consequence of an economic system “that is no longer capable of creating jobs.”

The human person at the centre

This economic system, the Pope says, has made an idol of money; but it can be opposed by a system that puts people and family at the centre. He explains that an innovative focus on the greater good, the good of the community as a whole, is ultimately better for companies than an exclusive focus on profit.

In fact, a healthy overall economy, Pope Francis says, “is never disconnected from the meaning of what is produced; and economic activity is always also an ethical fact. He points to the teaching of Pope Leo XIII that free trade is not sufficient of itself to ensure justice; and says that what Leo said of individual contracts is also true of international trade. Quoting Bd Paul VI, Pope Francis says, “Free trade can be called just only when it conforms to the demands of social justice.”

Work and the dignity of the person

Asked about the feeling, experienced by many people, that work is a burden, “an unbearable routine,” Pope Francis says that everyone realizes that it is better to have a job than to not work. Working, he says, “is good because it is linked to the dignity of the person, to his ability to take responsibility for himself and others.” He also describes “the high spiritual meaning” of work, by which, he says, “we give continuity to creation by respecting it and taking care of it.”

Environment

Pope Francis also speaks on a number of other issues in his interview. He calls on Companies to pay more attention to “Working to build the common good”. Noting that most Companies provide professional and technical training, he suggests they do the same with regard to values. “We have reached the limits of what we call our common home”, he says, to the point that we are planning to colonize new planets. “Humanity is no longer the custodian of the earth but a tyrant exploiter.” That is why, whenever we talk about the environment, we are really talking about humanity: “Environmental degradation and human degradation go hand in hand,” says the Pope. “Ecological consciousness needs new ways of living that build a harmonious future, promote integral development, and reduce inequality.” Pope Francis cites his Encyclical _Laudato sì_, when he confirms that, in order to guarantee resources for future generations, we need to “limit the use of non-renewable resources, moderate consumption, reuse and to recycle.”

Migrants

Pope Francis acknowledges the challenge posed by migrants, especially to those who living in affluent countries: “Yet there is no peaceful future for humanity except in the acceptance of diversity, solidarity, in thinking of humanity as one family.” he states. Hope is what unites those who leave their homes with those who welcome them. Hope is what drives us to “share the journey of life,” he says, encouraging us not to be afraid “to share hope.” We need to stop talking about numbers, and start talking about people.

Europe

“Europe needs hope and a future,” says Pope Francis. “We never stop being witnesses of hope, we widen our horizons without consuming ourselves in the preoccupation of the present.” Returning to the issue of migration, the Pope recalls the importance of migrants being “respectful of the culture and laws of their host country” so as to favor integration and overcome fear and worry. “I also entrust these responsibilities to the prudence of governments,” he says, “so that they may find common ways to give dignified welcome to our many brothers and sisters who call for help.”

Peace

The interview concludes with Pope Francis referencing his Message for the World Day of Peace this year in which he outlines what he calls “four milestones for action: welcome, protect, promote and integrate.” It is always important that our projects and proposals be inspired by “compassion, vision and courage,” he says, “so as to seize every opportunity to advance the construction of peace.” This is the only way to ensure that “the necessary realism of international politics does not surrender itself to disinterest and the globalization of indifference.”

question: Summarize everything related to the environment in this document.

answer: Pope Francis suggests that companies need to focus on working to build the common good as he believes humanity is no longer the custodian of the earth but a tyrant exploiter. He thinks human and environmental degradation go hand in hand. He also suggests that to guarantee resources for future generations, limiting the use of non-renewable resources and other methods are necessary.

question: Who has person-friendly ethics?

answer: Pope Francis suggests that behind every economic activity lies a human person, and that that human person should be the center of how they think of the economy.

question: How does the Pope explain that the economic system has mad an idol of money?

answer: He means that money is the center of focus and that the system is profit driven.

question: What is Pope Francis' view on Europe?

answer: Pope Francis believes that Europe needs hope and a future.

question: How does Pope Francis describe "the high spiritual meaning" of work?

answer: He sees working as a way to be dignified of one's ability to take responsibility for himself and others. He says people give continuity to creation by respecting it and taking care of it.

question: When was this interview conducted?

answer: That information can't be found in the document.

question: Write a ~1 sentence summary.

answer: At the time of this document, Pope Francis was interviewed by Italian national business newspaper, Il Sole 24 Ore. Pope Francis expressed a need for person-friendly ethics in economics, and touched on topics such as the environment, migrants, Europe, and peace.


text:
The sky is poetic when you consider it emotionally: sunsets draw tears and rolling tongues of clouds pull mouths open and vicious, wandering storms inspire dizzying cries for God or help or *someone*.

I am not poetic.

This is what makes me stare at the cottage-cheese ceiling in my room at night and wonder why I will never admire myself. I conjure you and watch you effortlessly twist nails into your hands, watch the wounds bleed ink and meaning, because you always told me you admired me but I never believed you, and the way your eyes would look not into me but behind me made me nervous and I think that’s why you could never really love me.

But I tried.

*Fuck you* I tried.

I tried and then I told myself that your angled good looks were beyond me and that your ancient, slippery tongue would never find mine and then I ached until I could convince myself of some flaw you weren’t aware of. I tangled myself into tight enough knots that I couldn’t walk straight and I couldn’t unwind myself for long enough to make hollow conversation or take deep enough breaths.

I wanted your easy wit and your offensive charm but I wanted you to give it to me like a lesson so I could hang it on the wall like a picture and remember the time I fell in love with the idea of a boy. And I didn’t care that I knew you would never feel awful, rooted things for me. I never cared about that.

And I made like I was finding myself or something because your body sitting next to mine made me feel shallow and hopeless and all I wanted to do was be *your* type of person and then you would let me crawl inside of you and decipher your secrets for myself.

You were different than anyone I knew with your swarming lies and your spangled lines of art and people and pale, tortured love stories. You drew me in with those choked eyes of yours like the depths of you were hungry for something you knew you would never have.

Storms strike first from a distance: all swirling, coked-up air and this graceful, rhythmic dance between high and low pressure that spins so far out of control it makes hearts grow restless even when all you can see of it makes it look like a gray, stretched-out cotton ball. I watch cagey men on National Geographic. I watch them crawl in head-first, greedy-eyed. I cringe at their middle fingers raised to the clouded sun.

You gutted me.

You gutted me and you didn’t realize that you’d done it because I didn’t turn myself inside-out for you like you thought I did. I absorbed you and leaked you back out and you smiled at me as if to say *you’re the girl I’ve been waiting for* and I was so drunk with your approval that I couldn’t look at my toenails without seeing them through your eyes.

But my heart pounded with each inch you let me head in your direction and you welcomed me with your spinning, wild arms and I smiled at you as if to say *you get all of me but you don’t get to know why* because that was my idea of mystery.

You didn’t ask questions.

I watch storm chasers and I watch twisters pick up houses and cows and spit them back out crumbled and worthless. I watch how the air, coiling, grins and doesn’t stop. I watch adrenaline-junkies point their cameras and get the shot and I watch their smiles: that kid on Christmas morning clutching a toy helicopter like it’s all he’s ever going to need.

I haven’t moved from this place since you left.

If I move I’ll get caught up in your backlash and your intelligent, twitching fingers with those sweet, tidy good-byes of yours. I’ll gag on the memory of you and your drugged march because you had to be going somewhere always, forced to inhale the comforting slant of your whole body, the one I knew like the curve of my own reflection.

I remember you gave me a notebook once, and you wrote my name in your earnest chicken scratch on the inside of the sturdy red cover and you told me *go crazy* but I didn’t. I sat and watched you scribble yourself into oblivion on your own blank pages. I could never dream up enough words to write a good sentence. You thought we were kindred, back then. You told me not to look for it, just to find it, and I would know. You told me a lot of things and I remember them all, but your words sit beside me like a pale sketch of you, eyes wide and shoulders slack. For a long time your words filled me up but now they’re just scraps of your character that I can’t seem to hide anywhere.

Sometimes I wish you were still here but mostly the riprap of ripped-up ground and shattered houses you have left me with feel like home enough to crawl into and sleep. The imprint of your body here is big enough so the sheets puff thick around my head and I’ll never have to breathe again.

You were poetic enough for the both of us.

title: Riprap

question: What does the story say about how the narrator feels about her ex-boyfriend?

answer: The protagonist recalls how her ex-boyfriend always told her he admired me but she never believed him. She remembers the way his eyes would look not into her but behind her made her nervous and she thinks that’s why he could never really love her, although she tried. All she wanted to do is be his type of person. She feels he was special, different than anyone she knew. Somethimes she wishes he were still there.

question: What does the story say about why they broke up?


text:
  This job would get boring if you didn’t mix things up a little. After 20 years this lecture hall holds a lot of memories for me; some good (Jenna), some bad (Danielle), some ugly (Katie). A few years back, an awful rumor about me was started, students claimed my motto was: “easy lays score easy A’s.” What bullshit that was- I prefer a challenge. If a student cares to put in some extra time towards the class, the least I could do is award extra credit. After all I am still teaching them a real world business lesson: moving up the corporate ladder, quickly.

  It wasn’t always this way. At the beginning, I really did set out to mold these half-stoned minds into the next generation of Trumps. Every year, 200 students flooded my classroom wanting to become the next great entrepreneur. Their yawning faces scribbled down notes as I lectured through the absurdly priced book- did I mention the school has a deal with the publisher. The few great students would engage in debatable business topics and the material would actually sink into their hung-over brains; however, most just aimed for C’s. C’s earn degrees right?

  After about 5 years, I had it with these “high”-er education students. No more giving C’s for minimal work. The course became more difficult, the dropout rate increased significantly, and my score on that ratemyproffessor site dropped. It worked though; finally, I had students who actually cared and worked for a decent grade.

  That’s when the bureaucrats rolled in.  You know the type, pompous folk in designer suits. After a class they rolled in and sat me down at my meticulously organized desk. There I sat- with my half yawning face- in my reclining chair as they scribbled away on the whiteboard. . For about 2 hours they lectured me, a teacher with an MBA, on how businesses make money.  My dropout rate was costing them money. Either fix it or leave they ranted. That’s when extra credit became a viable option.

title: Extra Credit (300 words)

question: What was the narrator teaching?

answer: Something to do with business and entrepreneurship.

question: What grade were most of the students aiming for?

answer: C

question: When did his dropout rate increase?

answer: After he made the course more difficult.

question: How long was the narrator a teacher there?

answer: For 20 years.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: The narrator has been teaching for 20 years. After the first years, when his course was easy to get a C in, he started making it more difficult. This increased the dropout rate and the bureaucrats of the university sit him in a meeting. After this, he made extra credits a viable option.


text:
--Prologue--

	I never wanted this... I thought by leaving Earth I could escape the shitty lot in life I had, but boy was I wrong. I’ve been hopping from colony to colony to for about a year now. First I tried to find some work on several lunar colonies, to no avail. Then I hitched a ride out to Mars on the little credit I had left. I was able to scrape enough money to get to Ceres, where I found work for one of the science research teams there. I really enjoyed Ceres, I could have stayed there for quite a while, but just like everything else that’s ever gone right for me, it was crushed. An experiment involving a miniscule amount of anti-matter while I was off-duty completely destroyed our lab, putting me out of work, thankfully I had made enough off of my research to finally get me to Jupiter. That’s where I’m headed now, to a Jovian Platform, one devoted to science and discovery, one where I will strive.

--The Seventh Column--

	“The Seventh Column will be departing in 10 standard minutes.” announced the robotic voice of the loudspeaker, though I could hardly hear it. It’s loud here on Mars, far different than Ceres, where it was quiet and peaceful. I had to return to Mars to find a ship that could take me to Jupiter, big ships like that never stop at Ceres. The Seventh Column was the cheapest ride I could find, well within my tight budget of 6 billion credits. I already had a job waiting for me on the Jovian Platform Scipio, a well paying job researching anti-matter physics, just like on Ceres. The only difference is that Scipio has real funding, with much better equipment than I could’ve dreamed of on Ceres.

	“The Seventh Column will be departing in 5 standard minutes.”came from the loudspeaker as I checked and made sure I had everything, when I heard footsteps. I was on a fairly empty flight, with plenty of room for everyone to stay away from each other. There was no reason for anyone to be near me, and judging by the number of footsteps, this was a group of people. I looked up, and three men were standing in front of me. Rugged, worn by space travel, they had probably never seen the light of Earth.

	“Are you Isav Re’e?” asked the man on my right, who stood slightly behind the man in the center, who was clearly the leader.

	“Yes, that I am.” I said. “Why?” This wasn’t looking good, they were using one of my old aliases.

	“We’ve been looking for you... You were stupid to come back here.” said the man on my left, who I began to recognize. The tattoo on the right side of his neck gave him away, it was the symbol of the male, with a dot in the center. He was from the Maln Clan, who I worked for briefly before I left Mars the first time. I left on not so pleasant terms, too.

	“Shuttup, Ronin.” said the center man. “Look, Young, we don’t want a mess here. Come with us peacefully and we’ll make sure you aren’t hurt. If you don’t comply then... I can’t guarantee your safety.” I was in a bind, I had less than five minutes so if I left I’d miss the flight, and lose my job on Jupiter, but if I tried to stay, these guys would drag me out by force. I needed to act quickly.

	“Alright, just let me get my things, I’ve got a bag in the back.” I lied. I got up and started walking to the cargo bay, where no-one was stationed.

	“Alright, just hurry up, we don’t got all day.” said Ronin, as they began to follow me back. They had taken the bait, now I just had to reel them in. I did some quick mental predictions and chose the one with the best chances. I reached up and grabbed a large bag, and as I pulled it down I slammed it into Ronin’s face, knocking him out instantly. I dove behind a shelf and grabbed another bag, this one a little smaller, perfect to use with one hand. I waited for the other two to round the corner until I threw the bag at the other cronnie while I tripped the leader. As soon as his head hit the ground I slammed my fist upwards into his nose, killing him. I did the same to Ronin and the other one, and stuffed their bodies in a small nook of an access corridor.

	I got back to my seat as two crew members were coming towards me. They were asking all the passengers about something, tickets I guess. I was still trying to process what had just happened, when they approached me.

	“Excuse me sir, have you seen these three men on the ship?” the crewman, whose I.D. badge read Aman, showed me a Holopane with the image of the three men who attacked me. My face went hot, my head started spinning, but I was able to compose myself.

	“No, why?” I replied.

	“They requested to come see someone on the ship, but we didn’t see them come out.” said the second man, whose I.D. badge read Czevk.

	“Can’t you check the surveillance to see if they did come out?”

	“Afraid not, cameras broken. That’s why we’re asking the passengers. Everyone else said they saw them, but you didn’t, correct?” said Czevk.

	“That’s right, sir.” I replied, I was starting to sweat.

	“Alright, well, I guess they didn’t come this far back. They’re probably hiding somewhere up front.” said Aman.

	“Maybe they slipped by you and you didn’t notice. You guys were preparing to set off right?”

	“Yeah, that’s true...” said Aman looking over at Czevk. “Ah, fuck it, let’s go. I’m ready to get out of here.” He looked back at me, “Thanks for co-operating, Mr.?”

	“Young. Dr. Isais Carson Young.” I replied.

	“Thank you, Dr. Young.” said Aman, who then walked off with Czevk.

	“We apologize for the wait, The Seventh Column will now be departing from Docking Bay 823.B heading for Jupiter’s Orbital Station.” announced the loudspeaker as the ship began to hum. I had grown accustomed to the feeling over the past two years, but it never ceased to please me. It calmed me down so much it was amusing. Nothing like soaring through the vacuum of space at the speed of light to soothe the nerves.

title: The Seventh Column

question: Summarize the different work stations the narrator went through.

answer: The narrator had to go through many different jobs in the beginning of the story. The narrator started off by working in several lunar colonies but to no avail. Then the narrator scraped enough money to get to Ceres. Then the narrator went to Jupiter, where they were able to work in an area devoted to science and discovery.

question: Describe the narrator's actions as they were approached by the three rugged men.

answer: The narrator was desperate to get onto the flight. The narrator was alarmed when the three men used one of his old alias's and he recognized what clan they were from, by looking at their tattoos. The narrator tricked them by saying he would go get his bag in the back, but booked it away from the men until he had an upper hand to hit them. The narrator knocked out all three men and go back to his seat on the flight.

question: Will Jupiter's Orbital Station be the last station for the narrator to stay on or will the narrator go somewhere else in the future?


text:
VEERTIEN MIE (ヴィアティン三重) is a Japanese football club based between Kuwana and Yokkaichi, Mie Prefecture. They play in the Japan Football League.

History

“Veertien” means “fourteen” in Dutch, after Johan Cruijff's playing number. As with V-Varen Nagasaki, their colors are orange with traces of blue.[1] Founded as _Veertien FC_ in 2012 to bring a team from Mie Prefecture to professional football in Japan, Doru Isac was invited to overview the activities at the club. After using the name _Veertien Kuwana_ for two seasons from 2013, they converted the denomination from 2015 season to _Veertien Mie_.[2]

Results came rapidly, since the club was able to clinch five promotions in a row, from the 3rd division of the Mie Prefectural League to the Japan Football League for the 2017 season. They also featured in one edition of the Emperor's Cup, reaching the 2nd round in 2014 and losing to Cerezo Osaka only after extra time.

Current squad

_As of May 3rd, 2020_.[3]

League record

+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| League                | Emperor's Cup         | Shakaijin Cup         |
+=======================+=======================+=======================+
| Season                | League                | Tier                  |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| 2014                  |                       |                       |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| 2015                  | Tōkai Adult Soccer    |                       |
|                       | League (Div. 2)       |                       |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| 2016                  | Tōkai Adult Soccer    | 5                     |
|                       | League (Div. 1)       |                       |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| 2017                  | JFL                   | 4                     |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| 2018                  | 11TH                  | 30                    |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| 2019                  | 10TH                  | 30                    |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+
| 2020                  | 6TH                   | 15                    |
+-----------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+

[1] 1

[2] http://www.veertien.jp/fc/wtn/?p=3295

[3]

title: Veertien Mie

question: What league does Veertien Mie play in?

answer: Veertien Mie plays in the Japan Football League.

question: What language is the word Veertien?

answer: Veertien means fourteen in Dutch.

question: When was Veertien FC founded?

answer: Veertien FC was founded in 2012.

question: How many editions has Veertien Mie featured in the Emperor's Cup?

answer: Veertien Mie has featured in one edition of the Emperor's Cup.

question: How many promotions in a row did Veertien Mie earn?

answer: Veertien Mie earned five promotions in a row.

question: Write a ~3 sentence summary.

answer: Veertien Mie is a Japanese football club. They were founded in 2012 and quickly earned five promotions in a row. They also participated in the Emperor's Cup in 2014.


text:
_BLOTSTULKA_, or _Blot-Tulca_, (11th century ) is a name known in legend for an alleged Swedish medieval queen consort, spouse of a King “Blot-Sweyn” of Sweden who may have reigned in the 1080s. The name can be seen as the equivalent to that of her spouse, with the meaning: “The woman Sacrificer” or “The Maiden Sacrificer”; as her spouse's name was “Sweyn the Sacrificer”, which can also be translated as “The man who performs the sacrifices”.

Biography

Not much is known about the queen and the dates of her birth and death are unknown. She is the possible mother of an alleged son of Blot-Sweyn, Erik Årsäll. She was married to Sweyn before he became king and was alive to be queen during his reign. She is the last known Pagan queen in Sweden and in Scandinavia. She became queen of Sweden when her spouse ascended to the throne. About 1087 her husband was deposed and killed; according to tradition, by being surrounded in his home, which was set on fire. No murder of a female is recorded, and it was also the custom to allow the women of the household to depart from the building in such a situation. The queen is therefore expected to have survived the death of her spouse. The above is related from legend. Nothing factual about her life is known.

title: Blotstulka

question: Who was Blotstulka's spouse?

answer: Blotstulka's spouse was Blot-sweyn.

question: When did Blotstulka allegedly reign?

answer: Blotstulka allegedly reigned in the 1080s.

question: Around when was Blotstulka's husband deposed and killed?

answer: Blotstulka's husband was deposed and killed around 1087.

question: What religion did Blotstulka follow?

answer: Blotstulka was Pagan.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Blotstulka is a legendary Swedish queen who may have ruled in the 1080s. She allegedly married Blot-sweyn and had a son. Blot-sweyn may have been killed in 1087, and Blotstulka is thought to have survived. All this information is from legend with no factual sources.


text:
White House aides appear to be tempering expectations over Trump’s ability to extract concessions from Abbas at a time when the Palestinian leader faces a political crisis at home.

Donald Trump (L) and Mahmoud Abbas (R)

(photo credit: REUTERS)

WASHINGTON – When Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu visited Washington in February, US President Donald Trump turned to him before a room full of journalists and asked for a partial freeze in West Bank settlement construction.

Now Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas will take his turn in the hot seat when he meets with Trump for the first time on Wednesday.

Abbas is likely to forgo the sort press availability that allowed Trump to pressure Netanyahu in public. But he is expected to participate in over two hours of private and group meetings with Trump, and will receive significant private pressure within those quarters. Trump will also be hosting an event for guests in Washington later that evening.

Trump invites Palestinian leader Abbas to White House (credit: REUTERS)

White House officials say the visit is introductory – an opportunity for Trump to get to know a leader whom he hopes to ultimately cajole into peacemaking. Yet the president and his team are already working privately on ways to pressure Abbas into direct negotiations.

In their effort to get Israelis and Palestinians around the same negotiating table after years of distance, Trump administration officials hope that Abbas will offer a tangible demonstration of his willingness to negotiate. That requires some form of concession on an issue that has previously blocked the resumption of talks. Republicans in Washington hope the White House can convince Abbas to end or substantially revise its stipend program for the families of murderers and terrorists convicted by Israel.

Several GOP senators, including Tom Cotton of Arkansas and Lindsey Graham of South Carolina, called on Trump to pressure Abbas over the policy on Tuesday.

Yet, entering Wednesday’s meeting, White House aides are expressing caution, and appear to be tempering expectations over Trump’s ability to extract concessions from Abbas at a time when the Palestinian leader faces a political crisis at home. A hunger strike among Palestinian prisoners has entered its third week, making it difficult for Abbas to compromise on the “martyrs program” during this particular visit.

“The president’s ultimate goal is to establish peace in the region,” White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer said on Monday. “That’s obviously the goal and the discussion that he’s going to have with the head of the Palestinian Authority. But that’s going to be a relationship that he continues to work on and build with the ultimate goal that there’s peace in that region between Israel and the Palestinian Authority.”

Spicer was also asked whether or not Trump felt spurned by an announcement of new settlements in east Jerusalem.

“I’m sure that we’ll continue to have conversations with the prime minister,” Spicer responded. “That’ll be something that the president will continue to discuss.”

Spicer noted that White House staff are continuing to look into moving the US Embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, ahead of an expected presidential visit to the holy city on or around Jerusalem Day.

question: What is the Palestinian "martyrs program?"

answer: A stipend program for the families of murderers and terrorists convicted by Israel.

question: What is the White Houses's ultimate goal in talks with the Palestinian Authority?

answer: Peace in the region between Israel and the Palestinian Authority.

question: Who is the leader of the Palestinian Authority?

answer: Mahmoud Abbas.

question: What bolstered Trump's ability to gain concessions from Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu?

answer: The Prime Minister's willingness to extensively appear before press.

question: Write a ~4 sentence summary.

answer: Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas meets with President Trump. Trump will attempt to gain concessions from Abbas regarding relations with Israel. Trump's primary goal is to get Abbas to revise it's support of the "martyrs program." The White House is expressing caution as Abbas will likely forego press appearances, leverage previously used against Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu.